Chapters (90)
Ry Oyu smiled knowingly. “You’ve worked exceptionally hard to re-open the Way.” His tone was not accusatory, but in the Engineer’s present mental state, under the present Dickensian circumstances, the gate-opener did not need to directly accuse.
Korzenowski waved one hand again, as if to shoo the gate-opener away. “I perform my duty before the Hexamon.”
“You have no other motives?”
Korzenowski did not answer. He had no other motives; whatever stained his personality like a dye, he could not answer for.
“You contain a duplicate of the Mystery of a very singular woman. I myself arranged for the transfer. You’re working for her now, aren’t you?”
“If you put it that way…”
“I do.”
“I suppose I’m working on her behalf, yes. But what she wants doesn’t contradict my duty.”
“A mystery is not a complete personality. When something goes wrong during a transfer—if motivations or basic obsessions are copied as well—then the mentality resulting is not a responsible, integrated individual.”
Korzenowski felt a hollow, dismal despair.
“I am haunted,” he admitted. “I have been…pushed, compelled…” He couldn’t finish.
“Don’t be distressed. It can all work out for the best.”
Korzenowski wanted to shrink away, to consider whether he should in fact resign from his duties, appoint someone who was accountable, responsible.
“You can use her brilliance, what you have of it,” Ry Oyu suggested as they exited the maze. The gate-opener picted greetings to Olmy, who accepted his presence without comment.
“Nobody’s surprised to see me,” the gate-opener observed wryly.
“It’s the season of miracles,” Olmy said, his voice oddly inflected, strained. Outwardly calm, inwardly tormented—Korzenowski wondered what compelled him now.
“Have you two confided in each other yet?” Ry Oyu asked.
“I’ve confided nothing,” Olmy said. “But I suppose we have no secrets from the Final Mind.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s obvious the time is right for a long talk.”
Korzenowski thought Olmy looked at least as haunted as he did. “This is as safe a place as any,” he suggested. “No monitors, no remotes. We can pict in tight-beams.”
“Speech will be difficult,” Ry Oyu said. “It’s time to bring the nonsense to an end. Ser Mirsky’s approach was not firm enough, I gather…or devious enough. I have a proposition for both of you, something that could resolve all of our difficulties—though not the Hexamon’s. Earth and the Hexamon are going to have to learn to live with each other. Are both of you willing to listen?”
“I am obedient,” Olmy said, his tone even more strained. “You are from descendant command.”
“What does that mean?” the Engineer asked.
They sat down in a circle of stone benches surrounded by tree roses. “You’re not the only one who’s haunted,” Ry Oyu said. “Time for Ser Olmy’s explanation, and then my proposition…”