‘In trying to understand and fully encompass all that Jain technology is, they have managed to lose themselves.’

‘How reassuring.’

‘I would not want you to feel, if having chosen augmentation, that you made an uninformed choice. Nothing worthwhile, Mika, comes easy. Consider what the word “augmentation” means. The idea is that you augment something already existing. Many who do it destroy that essential something in the process—become more their additions than themselves. It is part of the haiman ethos to retain that humanity until such a time as it becomes possible to truly extend self. They call themselves haimans but know that until that becomes possible they are not truly post-human.’

‘But what is that essential something?’ Mika asked.

‘Indeed,’ was Jerusalem’s only reply.

The gabbleduck was mountainous: a great pyramid of flesh squatting in the flute grasses, its multiple forearms folded across its chest, its bill wavering up and down as if it was either nodding an affirmative or nodding off to sleep. It regarded Blegg with its tiara of emerald eyes ranged below the dome of its head.

‘Why have you chosen such a bizarre shape for yourself?’ Blegg asked. ‘Obviously it is something you’ve ransacked from the mind of the AI here, but I fail to see the purpose.’

‘Jain, Csorians, and Atheter,’ said the gabbleduck. ‘You humans have much to say about all three but know so little.’

‘Then tell me,’ Blegg suggested.

‘The Jain became extinct, five million years ago. Currently you believe it was their own technology that drove them to extinction. We believed this, too, though in our time, two million years after the Jain, there was more evidence available than there is to you now.’

‘And?’

‘Jain technology is a weapon.’

‘So we believe.’

‘Who did they use it against?’

‘It was made to destroy civilizations,’ said Blegg, ‘but that was a rhetorical question which I presume you’ll answer yourself.’

‘Who is always the greatest enemy? You fought a war with the Prador, but that could almost be classed as anomalous. The greatest enemy is nearly always those you can understand enough to hate.’

‘I see,’ said Blegg. ‘An internecine war.’

‘It lasted for half a million years. But why a weapon designed to destroy civilizations?’

‘I don’t know. Why don’t you give me a clue?’

‘Despair,’ said the gabbleduck. ‘Hatred of the futility of intelligent life and technical civilizations, all of them, forever.’

‘Despair and arrogance,’ suggested Blegg.

The gabbleduck shrugged. ‘Just so.’

‘What happened to you, then?’

The gabbleduck turned its head and gazed out over the ersatz landscape. ‘The Csorians, like these Makers, thought they understood the technology, increasingly depended upon it, then were ultimately destroyed by it.’

‘You didn’t answer my question.’ This virtuality was very realistic, and Blegg found himself becoming fed up with standing, so he sat like some acolyte on the ground before the monstrous being.