Into Everywhere Read Free

few muddy bays on the sunward edge of the lone continent.
    Those colonies were what had brought Tony Okoye and the crew of wizards here, in a three-way partnership with the broker on Dry Salvages who had purchased the old survey team’s report. Unprepossessing mounds like melted candle stumps, built from layers of sediments and bacterial filaments and slime, the stromatolites contained nodes of archival genetic material and communicated with each other via a wide-bandwidth transmission system constructed from arrays of microscopic magnetic crystals. The chief wizard, Fred Firat, believed that they were the remnants of a planetary intelligence, a noosphere woven from algorithms that were the common ancestors of the various species found in active artefacts left by the Elder Cultures. A root kit or Rosetta stone that would unlock all kinds of secrets, including the causes of sleepy sickness, Smythe’s Syndrome, counting disorder, and other meme plagues.
    Fred Firat had the grandstanding rhetoric and unblinking gaze of someone who carried the fire of true crazed genius, and like all the best salesmen, prophets and charlatans he was his first and best convert to his cause. He was convinced that the scant data buried in the records of that old expedition pointed towards something of fundamental importance, had sold the idea to Ayo and Aunty Jael during a virtuoso performance via q-phone. Which was how Tony had found himself embarked on what might be the biggest score of his freebooter career.
    But extracting data from the stromatolites’ archival genetic material had been more difficult than anticipated. Tony had to park his ship fifty kilometres inland because
Abalunam’s Pride
leaked a variety of electromagnetic emissions that interfered with the stromatolites’ transmission system, the wizards had to isolate experiments on individual specimens inside Faraday cages to prevent feedback, and they and Aunty Jael had spent more than two weeks developing new tools and probes before getting down to the real work. But although they had sequenced the archival genetics, they had yet to discover how to read the data those sequences contained, or how to hack into the transmission system. And now a fully loaded G-class frigate had driven through the mirror, come to hijack their work or worse. There was no doubt about it. It was time to pack up. Time to boot.
    The first glint of the sea had just appeared at the horizon when the ship’s q-phone lit up. It was Tony’s uncle, Opeyemi, saying with his usual brusqueness, ‘I hear you’re in trouble.’
    ‘I can handle it,’ Tony said, doing his best to hide his dismay. ‘And while I would love to talk, uncle, I
am
rather busy. What with having to get the wizards stowed away and so forth.’
    He had always known that Lancelot Askai was his uncle’s man, seconded to the mission to the slime planet from his usual work of suppressing anti-family sentiment, but had not realised until now that the rat was equipped with a q-phone. Opeyemi had been monitoring everything, Tony thought with a throb of anger. Waiting to pounce on any mistake.
    ‘Am I right in thinking,’ his uncle said, ‘that you believe this so-called intruder is a Red Brigade ship?’
    ‘It is heavily armed, it is displaying a false flag, and it has been aimed at this remote and insignificant planet when we are in the middle of our work. Its crew must have found out about the stromatolites, and want to steal what is rightfully ours. And of all the pirate gangs, the Red Brigade is the only one that has tangled with our family before, and everyone knows that it covets ancient knowledge above all else.’
    ‘But you have no actual proof that these are no more than ordinary criminals,’ Opeyemi said. ‘Your desire for revenge is understandable, nephew. But do not let it cloud your judgement.’
    ‘Tell me, uncle,’ Tony said, trying to keep his tone light, ‘does Ayo know about this call?’
    ‘It is four in the