The smell of sulphur
Within the caves of Io.
Atty lives in Hell.
The swing about Jupiter’s dark side into Callisto's orbit was an experience Karil would never forget; Johanna sat close beside him, and with a combination of scientific knowledge and childlike glee, she pointed out a series of images of awesome power and beauty that left him dazed and breathless:
Jupiter as a thin bow of light drawn back for the slender arrow of its single sunlit ring, as they slipped into the giant's shadow; and then a vast blackness, illuminated by flickering clusters of super-bolts arcing through the swirling thunderheads of the upper atmosphere, by the vapour-trails of meteors vanishing into the black cauldron below, and by the aurora playing about the cloud-tops where Io's torus of ionized sulphur sent particles spiralling in along Jupiter’s magnetic field-lines.
Then there was a crack of light racing along the rim of the world, and the heart-stopping beauty of sunrise over the swirling cloud-decks--a vast kaleidoscope of colour and texture filling the viewport: a red and white maelstrom of cyclonic vortices, drifting ostrich-plume water-ice cumulus, waving filamental ammonia-cirrus, roiling ammonia-hydrosulfide thunderheads, all surging and ebbing, layer upon layer, like a living thing.
And, finally, Callisto, as they looked down from parking orbit. After four billion years of meteor strikes with little surface melting to smooth out the landscape, craters stretched shoulder to shoulder, often over-lapping, as far as the eye could see, like some battleground of the gods in Norse mythology. Karil thought it appropriate that the great concentric-ring impact-basins that were the most apparent features on the surface were named Valhalla and Asgard. The outermost of the Galilean moons, outside the danger-zone of Jovian radiation, it was the bedroom-satellite of the system. Io and Europa held only a few heavily shielded research installations, and the residents of Ganymede dwelt in caves and warrens deep in the ice, but on Callisto one could build domes on the surface and have a view of Jupiter.
Anais fell out of orbit into a lonely crater far from the cities and Karil peered out at the landscape as he tested his gravity legs. The valley floor was a cracked and meteor-pitted icefield, and the craggy crater walls rose about them under the black sky. Karil shivered involuntarily; the Martian landscape was cold, but the rosy light from the sky there gave features a feeling of warmth.
In the middle distance lay a collection of illuminated domes, green with interior foliage, surrounded by walls that sparkled with a kind of translucent inner glow.
"What is that?"
"Jannat al Naim," said Loris as she unstrapped and stretched her legs. "Where Khadijha lives."
"The Garden of Pleasure," Karil translated. "One of the names of Paradise."
"I don't know if she realizes there's a whorehouse on Ganymede with the same name. I never had the courage to ask her."
Anyone that Loris might fear, Karil thought, must be formidable indeed. Then it struck him. "Did you say Khadijha?"
"She's my boss," Loris said. "One of the great Ice Barons of the Galilean. She practically built Asgard City. Now she owns most of Galilean Security."
"Why does her house glow like that?"
"It's made of ice."
"An ice-castle!"
"Can you think of a better construction material here? It’s literally cheap as dirt, easy to work, and at 190 below, it’s harder than steel."
"Ahoy the ship," came a synthesized voice. "Please identify yourself."
"Trader Anais Nin," said Loris.
There was a moment of silence and then they heard another voice, recognizably that of an elderly woman, but without quaver, and with just a touch of Galilean lisp over the clipped Terran accent. "Welcome back, Loris. I'm sending a sled for you."
In a moment a robot sled was flying toward them over the glacier. It slowed to a stop beneath Anais, and they heard the clank and hiss of coupling. Loris made the sled wait while she fed Isfahan. He complained loudly.
"What's the matter with him?"
"Oh, he's just giving us hell for turning on the gravity. Listen, Fur-face, you're lucky you don’t have to support twelve times the weight on half as many legs."
Apparently mollified by this logic, he began to eat. The human crew cycled through the lock and in a moment the sled was speeding over the ice. Halfway across the crater floor, it dropped down a ramp and entered a maze of tunnels. The sparkling blue-white walls rushed past them, and there was a glimpse of another sled moving in the opposite direction, carrying supervisory personnel in the pressurized forward section and a dozen near-humanoid robots riding in the rear, sitting in rows like bored soldiers in a troop-carrier.
They slowed and glided into a lock, were cycled through, and continued their journey through well-lit pressurized tunnels that soon opened into a series of caverns where hydroponic tanks lay beneath artificial lights, or tunnelling machines and other equipment sat in hangars. Finally, the sled drew up before an elevator and the passengers were lifted several stories.
They stepped out into a forest glade. Towering trees draped with hanging moss and flowering vines hid the ice crags outside the dome. Jupiter peered through the intertwining branches like the full moon of Earth but swollen to enormous size. Streams murmured over cascades and cataracts and flowed into still pools where herons waded among water lilies. A woman was coming toward them along a pathway through the trees. As she drew near, Karil could see the strength of will, the faded beauty in her wizened features, and he noticed that her traditional black veils were made of the finest silk.
"Khadijha!" Loris embraced the old woman, in the most affectionate gesture Karil had ever seen her perform. "You're looking fit as ever."
"And you, Loris. Johanna, a pleasure to see you again. You're even more beautiful than I remember."
Her eye fell on Karil and the twinkle there suggested that he might have had something to do with Johanna’s enhanced beauty. It made him feel vaguely uneasy. In fact, Khadijha herself made him feel uneasy. Many of his childhood memories were of such women, his father’s wives and sisters, black-veiled and stern, filling slaves and concubines and children alike with fear.
"And you," she said, "must be the famous Ali Karil. Sabalkhieri. Welcome to Callisto."
"Thank you, Mother." He used the Martian term of respect instinctively. "I admit I'm a little overwhelmed by it all. Especially Jupiter."
"Then we shall find you a room with a view." They followed her through the woods and stepped into a foyer of incredible beauty. Arches soared to heights impossible on Earth. A stairway that seemed to hang suspended in the air spiralled about a fountain that changed colours as they watched.
Khadijha laughed. "You seem bemused, Ali Karil."
"I've been on Mars for three years now. I'd almost forgotten what water looks like."
"Then perhaps you’d care for a bath before dinner."
Karil's eyes lit up. "This really is a Garden of Pleasures," he said.
"It sounds good to me too," said Johanna.
"You two go ahead," Loris told them. "Khadijha and I have to talk."
The old woman clapped her hands and a servant appeared. "Show Karil and Johanna to the blue room." She smiled at Johanna. "To match your eyes, my dear."
The servant bowed and led them away, up the dizzying staircase. Each step sounded a different tone as they trod upon it. A number of people passing up and down at once would play a complicated atonal composition. The room on the third floor that their guide ushered them into was rhomboidal, with a curved outer wall that arched to a high ceiling. Through the cathedral window, Karil could see the icy moonscape stretching away, and Jupiter leering over the horizon like a red-eyed, one-eyed pirate. Opposite the window was the bed--only one, Karil noticed: enormously wide and mounted on a stepped platform. The servant bowed and left, ignored.
"Karil, come here."
He followed Johanna's voice into the bathroom suite, where he found her standing beside the sunken tub. It was somewhat roomier than the captain's quarters aboard a freetrader, surrounded by marble and backlit stained glass. Johanna bent down and touched a panel on the wall and the tub began to fill. She knelt beside it and dabbled her fingers in the water.
"It's nice and warm, Karil. Have you ever been immersed in water in low gravity?"
"No, I can’t say I have, unless you count a sensory-deprivation tank." Karil unsealed his suit and stepped out of it, then slipped into the tub. The water washed over him, slow and viscous. It had been a long time since he had experienced the pleasure of water bathing his limbs; there were certain advantages to living on a world that was more ice than rock. He glanced up at Johanna.
"You're not being shy again, are you?"
She laughed. "I am. It's funny, isn't it? That's the way you affect me, Karil. I assure you I'm not always like this."
"I think it's sweet."
She stood, hesitating, fingering the clasp of her suit.
"You know, the more you hesitate, the more you arouse me."
"So I see."
"Come on in, Jo. The water’s fine."
Johanna slowly peeled off her suit, let it slip to her ankles, and stepped daintily out of it. She wriggled out of her free-fall brief and stepped, a naked naiad, into the water.
"Oh my God, that's nice. I’ve been on shipboard for months, Karil, taking ion showers every day."
He slid toward her. "I don't suppose you know where the soap might be."
"In here, I think." She reached into a swinging panel on the wall and drew out a scented cake. Soon they were lost in the pleasure of soapy body slithering over soapy body. It was mercifully much later, when they lay side by side, arms folded beneath their heads on the sloping tub-side, that they heard Loris enter the rooms.
"Jo. Karil. Where the hell are you?"
"In here, Lor," Johanna called.
Loris came in and looked at them, hands on hips. "That looks comfortable."
"Room for one more," Johanna said.
"Room for a regiment, it looks like." Loris stripped quickly and unself-consciously and stepped into the tub. Karil was impressed by the athletic beauty of her body: the high, hard breasts and the muscled belly and long legs.
"Christ, that feels good."
"Let me scrub your back."
Karil watched Johanna’s deft hands soap and massage Loris’ lean brown body. If he had not been completely sated at the moment, it would certainly have aroused him, but now it was merely warm and friendly.
"Khadijha's very concerned about Atalanta," Loris said. "She's been in touch with Mitsu every day."
"Any news?" Karil asked.
"No, and Mitsu's getting nervous. He’s been trying to convince her to let him break into Atty's higher functions."
"That could erase her personality," Karil said. "And I don’t think it'll work."
"She knows that. That's why she approved of us bringing you into the investigation. She insisted we bring you here so she can... talk to you in person..." Her voice trailed off.
Johanna was busy decorating her captain’s nipples with little peaks of lather. Her fingers traced a soapy trail down the length of her lean belly and began to brush the tangle of pubic hair beyond. Loris reached up, took her head in her hands, and pulled her down to kiss her. It was not with some voyeuristic thrill that Karil watched—-at least not entirely--but with a warm glow of acceptance and intimacy. He felt honoured, as if he had been initiated into some ancient form of worship. Later, as Loris and Johanna drowsed in each other’s arms, he crawled to them, slowly lest he break the spell, and kissed each one on the forehead. Loris smiled up at him with a puzzled expression. Johanna touched his cheek with her hand. He rose and began to dry himself.
***
They sat around a table in a French dining room, with the sound of a string quartet in the background. Servants came and went silently, bearing exquisite dishes that Karil could not always identify, but each was a surprise and a delight.
"I insisted on meeting you in person," Khadijha told him, "despite the urgency of your mission. For one thing, you have a lot of work ahead of you and I know that a little comfort and relaxation after a long space journey will help you concentrate. For another, I wanted to get a good look at you, Ali Karil. My success in all my businesses, including Galilean Security, is entirely the result of my ability to judge people.
"You must understand that this is a libertarian society. It's not like Earth, where the police can do anything they want. Galilean may be the biggest security firm, but it's not the only one. If we fail to keep the space-lanes secure, our clients will go elsewhere--to Jovian Security or some other firm. It's extremely important that we find out what happened to your Atalanta. Was she attacked in interplanetary space and then drifted into the Jovian system, or was she already in Jovian orbit when she was attacked? And by whom?
"Loris has explained your theory that she was boarded and seized, then damaged during the process of trying to pry information out of her. If so, the situation is even more critical, as it must have taken place here, in the Galilean. Was this some sort of industrial espionage on the part of Galilean interests, or are the Terran High Companies operating here? Either way, it’s a serious matter. Shagrug has been involved in a lot of shady deals over the years, and I'm sure a lot of people would love to get their hands on Atty's records. And now that he's involved in the Martian Rebellion, he's made a whole new collection of enemies.
"But these passengers were murdered in cold blood, in an apparent attempt to discredit Free Traders, to create distrust between the Galilean and the Martian people." She shook her head. "Sooner or later the Galilean public will get wind of this incident, and we'd better have some answers.
"Loris and Mitsu have been at odds over the course of the investigation since the beginning. He is anxious to get at Atalanta's logs in any way he can, even at the risk of destroying her personality. If you cannot get results before too long, I must, for the sake of public trust in Galilean Security, let him have his way. I have met Atalanta, and I would grieve for the loss of her personality, but if I must, I will sacrifice her in the interest of the company I founded and the society I helped to create. Do you understand?"
"I do, Mother. Of course I do. I promise you, if there is a way to communicate with Atalanta, I will find it."
Khadijha smiled. "I believe you will."
Later, Karil lay awake, gazing up at Jupiter’s glowering presence in the black sky. Johanna lay beside him, one arm thrown over his dark chest, her face buried in the hollow of his neck. On the other side of her, Loris was curled spoon-fashion about her, one leg over hers. Johanna snored softly, purring like Isfahan. He had never seen anything that more perfectly expressed the idea of warmth and safety. And he had never seen anything as cold and lonely as the glittering, airless landscape outside.
"I'm coming, Atty," he said.
***
Io lay beneath them like a diseased fruit, its vast plains of frozen sulphurous dust broken by the dark heads of volcanoes spewing poisonous white slime. The planet’s interior was a seething cauldron of tidal stresses generated by Jupiter’s great mass and the orbital passage of Europa and Ganymede. Jupiter itself loomed on the horizon, filling the sky, bombarding them with a lethal rain of radiation.
"Ahoy the ship. You have entered a radiation danger zone forbidden to unauthorized traffic. Please identify."
"Trader Anais Nin. We have Galilean Security clearance."
"One moment please." There was a static-filled pause. "You are cleared for descent. Please copy instructions."
Numbers flashed on the screen before Johanna. Other screens showed details of the plains as they descended--a landscape hideous in its desolation. For an instant he saw a party of huge robots lurching through the poisonous dust, and then the view was cut off by hills. The ship descended into the caldera of an ancient volcano and finally came to rest on the bottom.
A vast titanium hangar-door slid open in the cliff-face before them. A robot crawler appeared from the gloom and inched toward them, grappled the ship’s bow and drew them slowly into the side of the mountain. The door shut behind them and a moment later they were enveloped in clouds of steam. A river of water and detergents poured over the space-cold flanks of the ship, washing away the deadly ionized particles that clung to her surface.
As the mist cleared, Karil looked up to see tiny human figures working behind thick quartz plates in a gantry-house far above them. Another door opened and the crawler pulled them through a long low-ceilinged tunnel. Karil could feel the deck shake beneath his feet, but whether it was seismic tremor or the throb of machinery he could not say.
They crept deeper into the mountain's heart. Karil had never been prone to claustrophobia, but the sense of the mountain's weight above him was unnerving. It is one thing to stroll about in a lighted, air-conditioned tunnel filled with people; it is another to crawl through a seemingly endless cavern in the bowels of a volcano, the ceiling inching by just above your head, a soulless robot crawler your only companion, lights blinking in the gloom.
Eventually they came to a halt and the uncanny silence was broken by the clank and hiss of a lock. They cycled through and stepped out into a stark, gleaming steel tunnel. Pipes and conduits vanished in perspective along the walls and light-fixtures appeared at intervals in the ceiling, casting little pools of illumination on the floor. A single figure in coveralls was coming toward them, bobbing in and out of the light as he shuffled along on noiseless slippers.
"Loris, welcome back. Glad to see you again."
"Thank you, Ivan. This is Karil."
"At last. Glad to meet you, Karil." He shook his hand.
"Ivan. You discovered Atty. And you were the first to board her."
"Yes, I was. I've been with the investigation since. Terrible thing, terrible. I hope you can help us." He pinned a badge to Karil's breast. "You have to wear this at all times. Radiation is pretty well controlled this far below the surface, but it does build up in the tissues and we're required to wear these counters." He led them down the tunnel. "Sorry about the Spartan surroundings. We don’t have time for frills. I'll familiarize you with the safety procedures."
Loris snickered.
"She thinks it's a joke."
"It is, Ivan. There'd be no hope for us in a good quake. Even if we survived to make it to the surface..."
"Nevertheless, it's procedure. One of these lockers will be handy, wherever you are. I'll show you how to get into the suits. They're motorized so you can walk in them despite the shielding. These are lasers for carving your way through any rock-falls or warped hatches after a quake. On this side of the planet a suit will protect you for quite a while on the surface while you wait for rescue."
"Very reassuring," Karil said, but Ivan seemed not to notice the sarcasm in his voice.
"Normally, only robots use the tunnels to the surface," Ivan went on, "but we have occasional drills and they're used to seeing people about. Just collar one and inform it there's an emergency, and it will guide you to safety. Otherwise, they'll ignore you except to get out of your way. They're not too bright, actually. Now, listen carefully."
He made Karil step into one of the suits and seal himself in. It was not much more complicated than an ordinary p-suit, despite the shielding and power-assist. Once Karil had proved he was more intelligent than a mining robot, Ivan led them to Atalanta.
She was in a hangar, surrounded by workers and lit by the glare of welding-lasers. She had been restored to flight condition and looked better than ever, much to Karil's relief. The Martian camouflage-colours were gone, and she gleamed like new. He walked toward her, stepping over cables, and touched her gleaming skin, then climbed the ladder into her familiar interior. The others followed. In the bridge, crowded with extra computer banks and recording equipment, he turned to face the bank of lights that indicated her higher functions module so they could be face to face.
"We've left her drive, astrogation, and life-support systems connected after repairs," Ivan said, "But left her volition circuits disconnected. In other words, she’s spaceworthy again, but can’t take off or do anything else by herself. We thought it best under the circumstances."
In other words, Karil thought, she’s in a straitjacket. "Can she talk?"
"She certainly can. Her voder circuits are switched off right now. Otherwise, she drives the technicians crazy. Do you want to talk with her?"
"May I?"
"That's what you're here for."
Karil reached out and touched the sensor that switched on her voder. "Atty? It's me. Karil. Do you recognize my voice?"
"What art thou doing in this ditch?"
The crackle of welding outside ceased at the sound of her voice. One by one, Karil heard the torches being extinguished. Atalanta did not speak again, and the silence was tomb-like. Karil was vexed to discover tears springing to his eyes.
"Atty? Do you recognize me?"
"Ulysses noble son of Laertes why poor man have you come down to visit the dead in this sad place?"
The welders shrugged and went back to work.
"It does sound like she thinks she's in Hell," Karil said. "I can't say I blame her. It certainly smells like it."
"We've been using some of the mining robots for heavy repair work," Ivan said. "They bring the smell of the surface with them. We don't notice it anymore."
"Night comes on apace Aeneas," said Atty, "and we with weeping wear the hours this is the spot where splits the road in twain the right leads to the giant walls of Dis our way to Elysium but the left wreaks doom on sinners and to guilty Tartarus sends."
"Atty, what happened to Shagrug?"
"Such is the distance from Earth's surface to gloomy Tartarus for a brazen anvil dropping out of the sky would take nine nights and nine days and land on Earth the tenth day do you see him do you see the story do you see anything it seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream making a vain attempt because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation that commingling of absurdity surprise and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling that notion of being captured by the incredible..."
"Please, Atty. This is Karil. Karil. Where is Shagrug? Is he dead?"
"Death has not reached him yet nor does guilt lead him to torment but in order to give him full experience it behoves me who am dead to lead him down here through Hell from circle to circle..."
Karil shook his head in exasperation. "Is he a prisoner?"
"O what a noble mind is here o'erthrown."
"He's mad, then? Is that what you're saying?"
"We are all mad here."
"I'm beginning to believe it."
"You are not used to this business of adventures those are giants and if thou art afraid away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat."
"Tilting at windmills?"
"This thing I saw how can I describe it a monstrous tripod higher than many houses striding over the young pine-trees and smashing them aside in its career a walking engine of glittering metal striding now across the heather articulate ropes of steel dangling from it and the clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder."
Karil sighed. Johanna put her hand on his shoulder.
"Hark the sound of war in the land and great destruction see how the hammer of all the Earth is hacked and broken in pieces I saw a storm-wind coming from the north a vast cloud with flashes of fire and brilliant light about it and within was a radiance like brass glowing in the heart of the flames."
"This is creeping me out," Ivan said. "I've been listening to the recordings for weeks, but now that you're here, it's really getting scary. She's speaking to you, Karil. I swear it."
"When the stars are blotted out when the sky is rent asunder and the mountains crumble into dust when Allah's apostles are brought together on the appointed day when will all this be?"
"Atty, I still don't understand you."
"The faithful say if only a chapter were revealed but when a forthright chapter is revealed and war is mentioned in it you see the infirm of heart looking towards you as though they were fainting away for fear of death..."
Karil switched off the voder. He had had his fill of apocalyptic visions for the moment. His excitement at seeing Atalanta again, his sadness at her plight, all were gone. There was only a mixture of confusion, fear, and helplessness. And the nagging thought that she had just told him something terribly important.
"Though this be madness," he mumbled, "yet there is method in it."
"My God," said Loris. "You're doing it too."
Karil chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm afraid she'll have me raving before I have her talking sense. The hell of it is, it feels like there's perfect sense just beneath the surface."
"That was my impression too," said Ivan. "I've been listening to her longer than anyone. This image of war and destruction is a recurring theme. It's enough to scare the hell out of you sometimes. But this is different. It's like she was waiting for you. Ah, finally! Karil's here. He'll understand. Here's the story, Karil. And then she hits you with the Apocalypse. Quotes from The War of the Worlds, and the Koran, it sounds as if she's speaking directly to you."
"I could a tale unfold whose lightest word--sorry, Lor."
"Wait a minute," Johanna said. "Maybe you've got something there."
"What do you mean?"
"Has anyone tried speaking to Atty in her own language? If anyone has a hope of doing that, it's you, Karil."
"Out of the mouths of babes," Loris said. She put her arm around Johanna’s shoulders and squeezed.
Karil thought for a moment. "I think I know what to do. But I'll need access to a huge library."
"How about Galilean University at Ganymede?" Ivan suggested. "We could have a pretty good collection downloaded to Annie's memory."
"Yes," said Karil. "Annie's fast, too. She can keep up with Atty.”
"I'll get on it right away," Ivan said, rubbing his hands. "But I need to see about quarters for you."
"Have Annie brought into this hangar," Johanna said. "She is our home, after all."
"I'll see to it," Ivan said, and he left.
"You might just pull this off, Karil," Loris told him.
"I hope so, Lor." Karil switched on Atalanta's voder. "Rise up on foot," he told her. "The way is long, and the road is difficult, and already the sun returns to mid-tierce."
It was a passage from Inferno. Atalanta, her lightning-swift memory searching through her library, picked up her cue with faultless timing:
"Before I tear myself from the abyss my Master talk a little with me to draw me out of error."