A Woman's Intuition -- Part Two

Demi was surprised when she received a call from Zelan's lower level asking her to come to the docking bay immediately. The small android made her way quickly to the dock. Her expectation was that the summons had been issued by Wren, and that the situation on Dezo had suddenly worsened and required her assistance. But when Demi saw Dahl, Azur, and their friends standing in Wren's place, and when she saw the irate look on Dahl's face, Demi was positively certain that something was very wrong indeed.

"Hello everyone," she said, not bothering to cover her concern. "What's going on here?"

"Wren blew me off again, Demi," Dahl said.

Demi sighed. "Oh boy... I was afraid you were going to say that." She put one of her tiny hands on Dahl's shoulder. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I want to look through the ancient records myself," Dahl said. "I can't wait for Wren any longer."

Demi took a step back. "Dahl... I don't know if I should allow that. It's not a matter of whether or not I can trust you with the information stored in Zelan's banks. I know that it would be as safe in your hands as it would be in the hands of Alis herself."

"Then...what is the problem?" Azur asked, stepping up beside her sister, who had calmed -- as always -- once in Demi's presence.

Demi turned around and looked up at the massive terminals and screens that blanketed all the wall space of Zelan station. "There is a reason Wren and Daughter have never uploaded this ancient information into the public datanet. Remember what Son did, trying to take over the network and awaken the ruins of the Mother Brain."

"Of course," Mium said, shaking her head. "How could we forget?"

"Some of the data is even more volatile than what Son was able to learn about Mother Brain. Imagine what could happen if that stuff got into the hands of some unscrupulous individual."

Dahl took a step towards Demi. "But you said you trusted me with the information."

Demi turned and faced her. "And I do. But what if you were to fall into the hands of one of these hypothetical villains?"

"I would never talk!" Dahl thumbed over her shoulder at her friends. "And neither would any of them."

"That's right," Erol said. "All of us work to better the life of everyone in Algo. We--"

Demi held up her hands and shook her head. "I fear you are all missing my point. Dahl, Azur, and Mium: we cannot ignore the fact that all three of you are construct life forms. Although it would take someone with a knowledge base like Wren's to do it, it is possible to extract information from a construct brain. Like I said, it's very difficult, but it's possible. It has even been done. Seed--"

Erol stepped forward. "But that leaves me."

Demi nodded. "Right. All right. It may get me into trouble with Wren, but I have made my decision. Even though the chance of the data falling into 'enemy hands' is very small, I cannot risk giving the data to Dahl, Azur, or Mium. However...I can give it to Erol. Erol, I know you well enough to be confident that you would never share this information with another soul. I will allow you to access the deep databanks, and when you finally find it, you may download the information relating to the origins of the Numan species."

"And then Erol can tell us," Azur said.

Demi nodded again. "Correct. The ancient files are organized in an archaic manner that not even I am completely familiar with. It will be necessary for Erol to strain through totally unrelated data to reach what he is looking for."

"And it would be potentially dangerous for one of us to see that data," Dahl chimed in.

"Right. Why do you think even I have been barred from viewing the material?" Demi took a deep breath, and smiled for the first time since her friends had arrived. "We'll get started right away, then. Oh, by the way, did Wren say when he would be back?"

"He said it might be as long as a week," Dahl answered.

Demi did a double take. "What? A week? You've got to be kidding me! Wren has never been away from Zelan for more than a day in over two thousand years!"

"That's what he said." Dahl and Erol embraced. When they let go of one another, Erol walked over to Demi.

"That is most odd," Demi said, scratching her chin. "It worries me. The situation on Dezo must be more dire than I anticipated. But if so, why hasn't Wren contacted me and given me the details?"

"The man we saw -- Dr. Urbanich -- was badly wounded," Mium said. "I'm sure Wren will get back to you once the man's health is stabilized."

"Yes... Well, even so, I think I'll run a check on this Urbanich guy while Erol is investigating the old documents. Dahl. Would you consider going back to Dezo and making sure everything is all right?"

Dahl shook her head. "Actually, I'd rather stay here so that I'm ready to hear what Erol has found as soon as he's found it. And I also want to check back in with Palm II. Never before have Erol, Azur, and myself all been away at the same time, and the folks I left in charge are probably feeling the pressure right about now."

"It's all right," Azur said. "Mium and I will go." Azur looked to Mium, who nodded the affirmative.

"Okay!" Demi said with a clap of her hands. "Erol, we're off to the archives. Dahl, you can use the comm in the control room. Let's go!"

Once Dahl was busy with the comm, Demi quietly led Erol over to a side chamber of the second floor. She punched a series of buttons into one of the myriad consoles in the wall, and part of the wall slid back and to the side, revealing a passage within that was pitch black.

"Woah, pretty dark in there," Erol said. "Demi, I can't see a thing."

"Zelan does not have ordinary lighting," Demi said. "All illumination comes from the back-lighted displays and buttons that cover the interior of the station. However, there are no monitors or switches from here on in. The station designers thought it would be too hard to access those systems if they were hidden away in there, so they crammed them somewhere in the main room..."

"That's all very interesting, but how am I supposed to see where I'm going?"

"I guess I'll have to lead you to the archival terminal," she said. "Once you are inside I shall wait outside the door until you are finished, so that I can lead you back. Okay?"

Erol nodded. "That's fine with me."

"All right then," Demi said. "Hold on to my arm!"

They took a few steps down the passage, and immediately the door slid shut behind them.

"There is a way back out...right?" Erol asked.

Demi giggled. "Of course. All you do is press on the door. Try it! You'll see."

Erol reached back and touched the spot where the door had been. Immediately the wall slid in upon itself and the opening appeared. A few seconds later it closed again.

Demi engaged her Flare unit on its lowest setting, and the passage was filled with a very dull light. The small ruby in Demi's forehead also began to glow. There was just enough light so that Erol could see Demi smile. "Satisfied?" she asked. Erol nodded, and they continued on their way.

"This tunnel does have a lot of twists and turns in it," Demi said. "But there is no worry of becoming lost, as I have the entire layout of Zelan memorized. And don't worry about bumping your head or anything like that. This passage was designed with a Wren-type in mind, and you know how tall they can be."

Erol chuckled. "No, I've never seen a short Wren-type. That's for sure!"

"Actually, there were some, once," Demi said. "They were a highly experimental line before the Collapse. The records say that they could transform into vehicles, weapons, and other things. But, just between you and me, I think the records exaggerate a little."

"And these androids were short?" Erol asked. "Seems like they'd have to be tall to accommodate all the hardware that must have been necessary for a transformation like that."

Demi shrugged. "The records claim these Wrens -- these Shirens -- were only one and three quarters of a meter in height."

"That's even shorter than Dahl or Azur!"

"Yes, and these guys weren't nearly as lithe or agile as a Numan, either. But like I say, you have to take it all with a grain of salt. Old documents decay over time, records are lost or mistranslated when we update them into more modern language. That sort of thing." Demi stopped suddenly. "Ah! Here we are already."

Erol looked back down the dark passageway. "I sure am glad you're here, Demi," he said. "I'd never be able to find my way back through all that by myself."

Demi pushed her palm against the wall before her and another door slid open. At first there was only more darkness within, but then a monitor came alight, revealing a giant console and a small chair. The room was only a few meters wide and about as tall as the exterior passage.

"I'll wait out here until you're finished," Demi said. "Wren last updated the interface of these systems about two hundred years ago, so you may find the dialect a little archaic. But you shouldn't have any trouble understanding it."

"A shame we couldn't bring Azur along. Just in case, I mean."

Demi nodded. "Indeed. Perhaps someday Wren will perfect the construct brain. But I don't see that happening for many years to come."

"Well, I guess I'll get started then!" Erol stepped inside and immediately the door slid shut behind him. Demi sat on the floor outside and thought about the talk she and Wren were going to have when he finally came home.

All was dark in Tiro's tent. Elm had retreated into the shadows shortly after Dahl and her party left, and Favia was lying on the ground somewhere in the dark, apparently sleeping. Wren was hunched over Tiro, but he wasn't moving. No light came from his eyes. It was as if his switch had been flipped. From a distant corner, Betty watched everything.

She had tried several times to make radio contact with either Bart or Belthasar, but all of her attempts had failed. She could only conclude that both of them had completely ceased to function after the Dark Force's initial attack. Privately Betty wished that she had allowed them to participate in creating the metal body for the Dark Force. Perhaps then they would have been spared.

But to worry over her fallen allies was fruitless. Betty knew that her sole priority had to be Tiro. His life had to come even before her own survival. Tiro was fast on his feet and knew the surrounding glacier better than anyone. Betty knew that if she could awaken Tiro and get him out of the tent that he would be fine. But the black blood oozing from Tiro's wounded shoulder was not a source of confidence for Betty. For all she knew, Tiro could die at any moment.

Slowly and cautiously, Betty wheeled over to the inert Wren. She examined him with her optic sensor, which she was able to extend on a narrow rod. She probed into the places between Wren's armor, trying to determine how severe the damage done to him had been. Her worst fears were confirmed when she saw the black sludge rolling and sloshing about beneath Wren's metal skin. It was obvious that a simple repair kit would be useless.

Betty detected movement behind her. She wheeled about suddenly but was blinded when a furry hand lightly grasped the end of her optical rod.

"The girl will be trouble," Elm whispered.

"What do you mean?" Betty asked.

"I can tell she is going to interfere with my plan."

Betty was silent for a moment. "What do you intend to do?"

Elm was quiet, too. "I am not certain just yet. For the time being we will speak in Palmalatin so that she will not understand us."

"I am afraid that she will be able to understand. I know her to be quite well-versed in that language..."

Elm grunted. "All right. Then Classical Dezorian--"

"I am afraid that she knows that language, too."

"The consummate pest... Then allow me to think more about this. I will talk to you again soon." The ashen-robed Motavian took a few steps back before releasing Betty's eye. By the time her vision refocused Elm had disappeared into the black again. And Betty did not wish to seek him there.

Behind a nearby table, a small form squirmed in the darkness. Favia was not asleep. But she was certainly troubled.