When she switched off the image of General
Hague's mechanical head in Jeremy's view screen, Myla went to the back of
the hut and broke out the medical equipment for a second time. Biochemical biopsy and then a physiological analysis by nanoprobes took a
few seconds. When the screens filled with data, Jeremy moved in and
looked over her shoulder. Myla downloaded it all internally and had
browsed the data base before Jeremy's screens finished loading.
She flexed her hand in front of her face. "Did I
come from Mysaelia II?"
Jeremy took her hand and squeezed it, his fear of her
abated for the moment. "No, it's just a biochemistry that works different
from the kind that evolved on Earth. There's nothing on Mysaelia II
except for the usual stuff in the ocean and a few primitive land animals."
"What makes me so different, then?"
"The Mysaelia biochemistry is incredibly tough and
efficient, and it's almost completely self-contained. It's almost
immortal and it's so strong that an avatar needs an atomically engineered
carbon polymer for a skeleton to stand up to it. Nothing on Mysaelia
itself even uses a skeleton."
"But your avatars are made that way?”
Myla said. "Why are we so different?"
"Bodies aren’t the goal of the Dalikor technology,
Myla. It’s the nervous system, a human brain based upon the Mysaelia
biochemistry. There's nothing very intelligent on Mysaelia II, but the
neural cells of even the lower lifeforms are a thousand times more
efficient human brain cells. A human brain using Mysaelia biochemistry is
superior, and it will probably last for thousands of years.”
"They created Dalikor just because he was smart
enough to fight the Hive war?"
"Smart and creative. Jzon Dalikor was so powerful,
and so intelligent, that he frightened even the people who created him. They were afraid of what Dalikor would do with the technology and
political power he accumulated during the Hive War. If he chose to become
a dictator, there would have been too little of humanity left to defy
him. It was thought that he would have wanted to manufacture others like
himself. After all, he was human in most respects, but he was alone in
the universe. He would have wanted a woman, a mate, and maybe children. They would have been like gods among men. Where would it have ended?"
"So they killed him."
"And Nome stole the technology when they exiled him,"
Jeremy said, understanding at least that much of what was happening. "That’s why he wanted you tucked safely away in the Ark and interfaced
through a quantum transceiver with another avatar body just like the rest
of us so that nobody would find out.”
Myla's thoughts went in so many different directions
at one time that she floundered in confusion. "Then who were my adoptive
parents, the Rhodes? Who killed them, and why? And yours, too, Jeremy. Did their death have anything to do with me?"
"Myla, I don't know. It probably didn't have
anything to do with who or what you are. They were just Nats."
Myla put the diagnostic equipment away and left the
hut. Jeremy caught up with her halfway to the dome's airlock and spun her
around. "Where are you going? What are you going to do?"
Myla shook his hand free. "Why do you care? Why
would anybody care? They were afraid of Jzon Dalikor and they killed
him. They're afraid of me and they want me dead, too."
"Myla, I care!"
"Yes, but you don't matter!" she screamed at him. "Don't you understand? Neither of us matters!"
Myla cycled through the airlock and ran to the skiff
thinking that Jeremy hadn't as yet adjusted to the fact that the little
girl he loved had never really existed. She had been a lie, a facade for
a monster that had no use for a human form, and no place in the natural
universe. In a universe filled with unknown dangers, she had become her
own worst enemy, and humanity's greatest fear.
She could do something about that. The Hive could
have what they wanted, but first she would barter face to face for the
lives of Jeremy and Jeep and even the stupid mud dragon. Only then would
she agree to die. They would all be relieved to see her go. How could
anybody really care about the illicit creature born of an old man's
insanity?
Novels by
William G. Tedford