Quest for the Well of Souls - Jack L. Chalker [106]
"What?" they shouted at once. Both Renard and Mavra tumbled through sentences, and Obie let them run down.
Finally, when they had calmed, Obie explained.
"I spent most of my time trying to probe the Well," he told them. "I discovered early that if I asked a specific and very limited question, the Well computer would answer it. By that time Trelig, Yulin, and Dr. Zinder—who I was really after—had already passed through. I sensed them, trying to get data on Dr. Zinder, but I was too late. All I could do was suggest that he be placed in a high-tech hex. It was a simple enough idea; I could handle it. So, when Renard and Nikki came through several days later, I was ready. Renard I made an Agitar, mostly because I knew Trelig was a Makiem and the two were situated next to each other. I thought you would act as a check on him, Renard."
The Agitar nodded. That explained a lot, and eliminated the wild coincidence he'd had to accept.
"Nikki wasn't ready, though," Obie continued. "On her own she would be lost almost anywhere on the Well World, and I had no way of making her an Oolakash, like her father. The Well follows rather complex rules, and she just didn't fit the Oolakash requirements. So, I decided there was only one thing to do. I seized her, practically in transit, so to speak. She went from the Well Gate to a mathematical limbo; then I brought her to me through the big dish Underside and produced her in the control center through the little dish. I cured her of sponge and most of the excess weight. She's really rather cute. About the only thing that surprised me was that she was pregnant."
Again there was a chorus of "What?"
"Your child, Renard," Obie answered. "In Teliagin, when the two of you were sinking from sponge and thought you were going to die. Remember?"
Renard had totally forgotten it. Even with Obie's prompting he could barely remember it now.
"I needed hands, and I needed people," Obie told them. "So I allowed her to have the child. A girl, which she named Mavra, after you, Mavra Chang. You made quite an impression on her."
Mavra felt slightly pleased. "She's been living in there for twenty-two years with you?" she asked, unbelieving. "And the daughter is almost that?"
"Oh, no," Obie replied. "Not exactly. Several years, yes. The child is about fifteen, and very attractive—I did remake her slightly," the computer boasted. "Nikki is about twenty-five. There was no purpose to their living strictly linear existence in there. I could provide the growth-match and some of the upbringing in the same way I put plans in your head, Mavra. They've lived off and on inside me."
"I thought you were the god machine," Renard pointed out, a little upset at all this. "Why'd you need people?"
"I could make extensions of myself, yes," Obie admitted, "but not new life. The mathematics isn't right for that. Even the Markovians had to become their own new creatures. And, of course, there was the matter of loneliness. I needed companionship. They have provided it. And they've been even more helpful ever since Dr. Zinder managed to build his transmitter and contact me many years ago."
The surprised "What"s were getting monotonous.
"It's been almost like old times," the computer admitted. "Dr. Zinder was safe and well and happy—and could work with me. We coordinated with Ortega so that we'd know as much as possible what was going on with you all down there. It's worked out nicely, and we've been able to help Ortega and several others with problems. The major task was the study of the Well, which is an endless project, and quite beyond me—and, of course, how to free myself of the Well's hold. That proved to be relatively simple."
"You mean you're independent of it?" Mavra asked.
"Oh, no. I mean I know how to do it. The trouble is that only half of me is controlled by voluntary circuits—much like the human brain.