He
stepped through another doorway and instead of following the wall around
he kept on walking across the floor in a straight line towards the place
where, if this room was the same as all the others, another doorway should
be.
And maybe there was one. But there was a hole in the middle of the floor
that he fell through first.
Again he didn’t die. He didn’t suffer any bone-crunching injuries.
He picked himself up from the floor and looked around.
He was in the control room where the APC Net had its only physical existence.
The computer banks took up real, three dimensional space here. But all
they did was provide the infinite combinations of binary code that created
the Matrix. They weren’t the Matrix itself.
“Why have I come out of the Matrix?” he asked himself. “What
went wrong?”
“You haven’t come out of it,” replied a voice. He turned
to see a man sitting in a chair in front of a huge video screen. Kristoph
noted that the image on the screen showed the Panopticon, with the High
Council in session, waiting patiently while he was in the induced trance
that allowed him to access the APC Net. He could see himself sitting on
the Seat of Rassilon with the coronet on his head. He noted that, even
in a trance he was sitting upright, with his head erect and shoulders
squared. He wasn’t slumped in an ungainly way.
“Vanity ill becomes a Son of Rassilon,” said the man.
“Loss of dignity ill becomes a Lord High President of Gallifrey,”
Kristoph responded. Then he squared his shoulders before bowing respectfully
to the man who he recognised as his own ancestor, the first Chrístõ
de Lœngbærrow who had served as President in his own time. “My
Lord. I am honoured to be in your presence.”
“And I in yours, Chrístõ Mian. And to return to your
question, you haven’t come out of the Matrix. You are still within
it. This is a simulation of the APC Net control room.”
“Why?” Kristoph asked. “Or is there any point in asking
that question. Do you know what I’ve had to put up with so far?
A completely pointless walk across the desert, quicksand, wandering around
in the dark….”
“All tests of your resolve. I must say you slightly disappointed
me with the last test. If you had taken the leap of faith the first time
you crossed the room you would have wasted less time.”
“I’m a CIA man. We don’t go blindly into any situation.
That’s the way to get killed ignominiously.”
“You have not officially been a CIA man for over a thousand years,
Chrístõ Mian.”
“Nevertheless, those instincts remain with me. The instinct to survive,
to complete my task. If I am presented with tests that I can only pass
by going against those instincts, then I will fail every time.”
“You stand by that position? Knowing that your training in one narrow
field prevents you from thinking any other way, even though the flaws
in that perception have been pointed out to you?”
“I do. I am what I am. You cannot ask me to be anything else. I
know of your own deeds, my Lord. Nobody would sway you from a path once
chosen. Not even Lord Rassilon himself. Don’t expect me, your descendent,
with your blood in my veins, to be any different. Now… can I assume
that I have passed all the tests set to prove my worth. Can we now move
on to the vital issue at hand. IS there a traitor in the High Council
of Gallifrey?”
“There are ripples in the Matrix,” Chrístõ de
Lœngbærrow answered him.
“Ripples?” Kristoph was slightly irritated. “My Lord,
you and I are of the House of de Lœngbærrow. We speak plain. We deal
with realities. I do not expect riddles from your lips.”
“Ripples of possibility… from the uncertain and unwritten
future,” de Lœngbærrow added. “If the traitor is not
found and dealt with he will set events in motion that will be disastrous
to our world, and to countless other worlds. These ripples are coming
back in time from that future…”
“Then…”
“No, it is not certain. The future is not yet immutable and inevitable.
You may still act to prevent these things from happening.”
“I cannot without the information I came into the Matrix to find.
So, again, let’s dispense with riddles and deal in hard facts. Who
is the traitor among the most senior men and women in the High Council?”
“Do you expect the answer to be handed to you on a plate? Do you
expect it to be that easy?”
“It would make a refreshing change,” Kristoph responded. “Yes,
just for once, make things easy. Tell me who this &%$£@# is
who imperils the future of our world.
“I cannot,” his ancestor replied. “Because I don’t
know. I am of the past, as is every mind contained within the Matrix.
What we know of the future comes only in the form of these ripples and
fluxes reverberating back.”
“So what was the point of me going through all of this?” Kristoph
asked. This time he really was irritated. “I am sorry, my Lord.
I do not wish to sound… ungrateful… but this is a waste of
time unless I come out of this with something concrete with which to confront
the traitor.”
“You entered the Matrix in order to join your mind with those of
us already linked to it. Through that joining you, too, will see those
ripples. Then you will know. Come.”
Chrístõ de Lœngbærrow turned and walked towards the
door. Kristoph followed him, hoping they weren’t going to play any
more mind games.
Beyond the door was the base of a narrow, winding staircase. Kristoph
followed his ancestor up the stairs and through another door. He was only
slightly surprised to find himself stepping out into the Panopticon. But
it wasn’t the Panopticon as he knew it in his lifetime when it resembled
an elegant concert hall. This, if his history was correct, was how it
had looked in the first Chrístõ de Lœngbærrow’s
time. It had a floor of black marble with the seal of Rassilon etched
in gold. The high ceiling matched it, while all around the circular room
the tiers of seats where the High Councillors and Councillors sat were
matt black that made it impossible to guess how many tiers there were
or how high they went. Dimensions were sucked into the blackness.
Every tier was full. There were Time Lords in formal regalia on every
level. Their costumes were not identical. They represented millennia of
changing fashions. Some were less elaborate than others. Some had more
gold, more embroidery. Some shimmered with the silver threads woven into
the fabric.
These were the generations of Time Lords whose minds were kept in the
APC Net.
A group of them moved forward and stood in a ring around the Seal of Rassilon.
Kristoph’s noble ancestor urged him forward and the two of them
took their places within the ring as the Time Lords began to chant in
unison.
Kristoph felt as if he was intoxicated. The room span around him in one
direction and the space within the ring span in another. And within that
strange vortex he saw a series of images. They were the ripples from the
future that his ancestor had told him about. Some were in the very near
future, others were distant. The distant ripples were distorted by the
nearer ones. Kristoph knew what it meant. Those events still hundreds,
thousands of years away depended on him putting a stop to what was going
to happen very soon. And it was vital that he should do so.
Extremely vital.
He gasped as he looked around at the Panopticon. It was the current one,
again – the one that looked like a concert hall. And it was now.
He was standing in the Panopticon watching himself still sitting on the
Dais under the influence of the Coronet of Rassilon.
“I’m still in the APC Net,” he told himself. “This
is another image.”
Somebody moved. One of the High Councillors stood up and stepped towards
him. Kristoph looked at him with undisguised disgust.
“You… I considered you a friend and ally. You have been a
guest at my table. My wife and I have entertained you in our home. And
you… You… You tampered with the Coronet. That’s why
Lord Stillh?ven collapsed. It wasn’t natural, after all. It was
attempted murder. Why?”
“Because I should have been nominated. If he died without naming
an heir, I could have put myself forward as the longest-serving High Councillor…
do you have any idea how long I have been a member of this government?
How many years…”
“You would have murdered that good man. But he was stronger than
you expected. He survived and named me. You were getting ready to murder
me. Your plan was… It doesn’t matter. It won’t happen.
It’s over.”
Kristoph moved fast. He brought his hand up from his side holding the
small dagger that had hung there since he entered the Matrix in this costume.
He stabbed once under the left heart and then again under the right -
two small incisions that severed the inferior vena cava. Very little blood
came out of the wound. It pooled within the chest cavity as the surprised
man stepped back once and then collapsed.
When you die in the Matrix, you die in reality, too.
Kristoph opened his eyes and found himself sitting on the Seat of Rassilon.
He lifted the Coronet of Rassilon from his head. A Presidential Guard
took it from his hands. Usually that would be the role of Gold Usher.
But he was lying on the floor. The Chief Surgeon was bending over him.
The Chancellor and Premier Cardinal were hovering nervously.
“He was the traitor?” The Chancellor asked. “Gold Usher….”
“I’ll make a full deposition later,” Kristoph answered.
“Right now… I am weary. I need to rest in my chambers.”
“Prolonged exposure to the Matrix causes protein depletion. I will
have food brought to you, Lord President,” said the Premier Cardinal,
beckoning to two Guards to escort him.
“One more thing,” Kristoph said quietly. “The Keeper
of Keys must have been complicit in this. It is the only way a Time Lord
other than the inaugurated President can enter the Matrix. Have him taken
into custody.”
That was done while Kristoph went to his chamber. He was not exaggerating
his weariness. It had only been three hours since he entered the Matrix,
but he ached as if he had been trekking across the Red Desert for days.
He was glad to lie down in the cool, quiet chamber.
He didn’t sleep. He had far too much to think about. Not just the
betrayal that he had exposed, not just the quick justice he had dealt
to the guilty party.
He was also thinking about those ripples in the future timeline. What
he had seen was fading from his memory. It was probably meant to do so.
It was dangerous to know too much about the future. But he knew one thing
for certain.
Gold Usher had been preparing to assassinate him. And if that had happened
now, before his son was conceived, then it would have been disastrous
for Gallifrey, because in that far future, his son and heir was going
to be vital to the continued existence of the Time Lord race.
Kristoph sighed deeply. He let go of the thought. He actually let it fade
along with the memory of those ripples. Some things were best not dwelt
upon.
Marion was in her white drawing room when he got home. She smiled warmly
and began to tell him about her day spent laying the foundation stone
of the first of her free libraries. Then she saw the strain in his eyes
and stopped.
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Gold Usher died this afternoon,” he answered. “Very
suddenly, in the Panopticon, during the Session.”
“Oh!” Marion gasped in shock. “Oh, how terrible. I am
so sorry. The funeral…”
“The day after tomorrow at his family estate. There will be an official
period of mourning, of course. Some of the dinner parties on your calendar
will be rescheduled. But I don’t think your library projects will
be unduly affected and if things feel too subdued around here you can
always spend some time on Ventura with Rika.”
He had made his full deposition. It was sealed in the vaults of the Panopticon.
The contents were known to a very few men. Even many of those who witnessed
the sudden death of Gold Usher believed the official story that he suffered
a sudden and untreatable embolism and died instantly. It served nobody
for the truth to be public knowledge. The Keeper of Keys would be tried
quietly for unspecified ‘irregularities’ and an appropriate
sentence served upon him. The matter was closed.
“Now… tell me all about your day over dinner,” he told
Marion with a warm smile and a tender kiss that he had longed to give
her since the moment the official car turned down the drive this morning.
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