Ascending - James Alan Gardner [157]
All that time, I forced myself not to look in Festina’s direction. Nimbus would succeed; of course he would. There was no other way to save my friend, so the universe was compelled to let Nimbus triumph. I merely had to get Star-biter out of the blob; the moment I managed that, Nimbus would emerge from my friend’s mouth and say, “Oar, everything is all right now.”
Even before I reached into the blob, I had caught sight of Starbiter. She lay amongst the webbing so tranquilly, I wondered if perhaps she thought she had returned to her mother’s womb. But she did not protest as I wrapped my fingers gently around her and drew her out into the world. I had long since discarded my jacket, for fear of the patches where honey had turned the cloth to gel…so I cradled the little Zarett tight to my chest, right where she could hear my heart beating.
“Now, Nimbus,” I said. “Now you will come out.”
For many long seconds, nothing happened. Then a vicious spasm shook Festina’s body, and she gave a gagging cough. It was the sound of a human about to vomit; I sped across the room and rolled Festina onto her side just as she gagged again. A spew of yellow phlegm erupted from deep within her, spattering onto the ground. It poured out in streams, puddling on top of the soil. I put an arm around her to hold her steady…and I knelt there, supporting Festina with one hand and baby Starbiter with the other.
“Come out now, Nimbus,” I whispered as Festina took a ragged breath. “Your job is done. You have vanquished the enemy. Come out.”
But he did not come out. He did not appear and he did not appear and he did not appear…until I realized he had already come out and I just did not recognize him. The spew on the ground was comprised half of golden nanites and half of Nimbus.
Both halves were dead.
I stared at the puddle as it slowly seeped into the dirt. Then I lowered my face to my friend’s shoulder and wept.
True Freedom
“Well, well, well,” said a familiar nasal voice, “three cheers for the visiting team! At the closing whistle, the score is Oar 2, Shaddill nothing.”
I lifted my head. The Pollisand stood perched on the rim of the basin, looking down at the purple lumps that had once been Immu and Esticus. A creature his size could not possibly balance on the narrow basin wall, but he was there anyway; he pranced a few steps in a rhinoceroid victory dance, then jumped to the floor. “How are you lovely ladies doing?”
“We are splendid,” I answered, “no thanks to you. But Nimbus is doing most poorly; you must bring him back to life.”
Deep in the Pollisand’s throat, his eyes grew dim. “Can’t do that,” he said. “Sorry.”
“You can do that,” I replied. “You have told me repeatedly how clever you are. You could bring Nimbus back just as you did for me; you must do it now.”
“No, I must not,” the Pollisand said…and there was something steely in his voice, something much different from the grating tone he usually affected. “Your friend Nimbus made a choice, Oar: a conscious decision to be more than a slave to some absentee owner, even though he knew it might cost him his life. I do not tamper with the results of such decisions.”
“But you saved me…when I consciously made a decision to fall eighty stories!”
“You didn’t believe you would die. You didn’t believe you could die. When you grabbed your enemy and jumped out that window, you thought he would die but you’d be just fine; hardly a deliberate sacrifice like Nimbus.”
The Pollisand walked over to the slightly muddy patch beside Festina—all that was left of the cloud man. He put out his great clumsy foot and held it over the soil as if he intended to touch the wetness…but then he stepped back and planted his toes on solid ground.
“Nimbus knew he wasn’t designed for battle,” the Pollisand said. “As he told you,