Eithin ducked Samson’s flaming sword, dove over the knee-high backswing, and blocked Samson’s final slash with his carbon-polymer jo staff. He flashed a cocky seventeen-year-old’s grin at his AI bondfast.

 

Eithin’s legs flew out from under him. He squawked, crashing to the floor. A serpentine tail slithered back beneath Samson’s projected robes.

 

“Since when do angels have tails?”

 

“Going to complain about fighting fairly again?”

 

“No. You’ll just tell me dying unfairly is still dying.”

 

Eithin warily stood up. “Why learn combat anyway? I’d never fight an AI. You’re going, what, five percent of maximum?”

 

“Your brilliant little brain cannot solve every problem. I’d prefer you had skills for protecting it.”

 

“Humans don’t have tails,” Eithin muttered under his breath, but Samson heard it through their neurolink.

 

“In a thousand years I’ve seen barely a trillionth of the Terran Dyson Sphere’s surface. Not even the Old Ones can keep track of everything here. For all we know, there are genetically modified humans with tails.”

 

Eithin, responseless, felt a tingling energy wave pulse through the room. He dove to catch Samson, suddenly an iridescent cube, before he hit the floor.

 

“A projection suppression matrix has been activated,” Samson said via neurolink. Eithin could feel Samson query the net. “It encompasses all of City. We need to—”

 

Four tall Watch officers entered. Lutibor Saeva strutted in behind them.

 

“Well groundling, Samson can’t save you this time.”

 

“Lutibor,” Eithin drawled, “still cowering in your father’s shadow?”

 

“Clearing away riff-raff,” Lutibor snarled.

 

“Your father finally decided to make himself Minister for Life, then?” Eithin said. He tucked Samson into his shirt. Both hands now free, he started spinning his staff.

 

“Eithin, you’re not ready, especially against five.”

 

“Trust me. I’ve got this,” Eithin replied.

 

Lutibor extracted a decoherence wand, “Go ahead groundling, resist.” The officers moved forward, spreading out.

 

“Eithin—”

 

“Just be ready to unlock the service panel in the back corner.” Eithin replied, retreating, still whirling his staff.

 

Two officers lunged forward. Eithin released the staff towards the closest, who zagged to avoid it. Right into his partner’s path. They collided, sprawling in a tangle of legs and arms. Before the remaining two could advance, Eithin turned and ran.

 

“Now.”

 

The panel popped open. He slid into the narrow crawlway, around the hydro-transfer conduits, and wormed through the even smaller passageway behind. The officers couldn’t follow. Eithin heard Lutibor’s echoing taunt, “Always running, maggot. This time there’s nowhere to go.”

 

* * *

 

They emerged in an open square surrounded by graceful City towers stretching toward the activated defense shield.

 

“So much for hot-wiring a flyer.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“Why would Polis activate City’s shield? Help an anti-AI luddite like Amidor Saeva stage a coup?”

 

“City’s embedded AI has always tended towards order and control. Polis probably calculated a Saeva dictatorship would maintain stability.”

 

“So, any ideas in that thousand-year-old brain for escaping this floating rock?”

 

“I think so; merely need to find it.”

 

“Find it?”

 

“Just because I access data faster, doesn’t mean I can access any particular bit instantly. Let’s see how good your memory retrieval is in a millenia. Ah, here it is. We need to go down.”

 

“Through solid rock?”

 

“Not exactly. But there’s a new problem. Polis is demanding we surrender. I’ve had to disconnect from the net to avoid being pinpointed.”

 

“Better and better — immobile and blind.” Eithin said, chuckling.

 

“I’m elated you find this continued stripping of my abilities humorous. Perhaps I should poke out your eyes.”

 

“You’d need to be able to project,” Eithin said. “But your blindness I can cure.” Eithin briefly connected to the net.

 

“What did you do,” Samson demanded.

 

“Made us two trees in a forest. Uploaded a worm that will propagate and randomly ping the network with our credentials. We’ll seem to be in hundreds of locations across City. If we make short connections, even Polis won’t discern us amongst my worm’s dopplegangers.”

 

“Well done, lad. There’s an engineering sub-structure entrance this way.”

 

* * *

 

Despite his worm’s obfuscations, Watch officers still combed City’s engineering warrens. Two close calls later they arrived at Samson’s ‘escape idea.’ Eithin dubiously eyed the hatch embedded in the granite floor.

 

“No powered opening mechanism?” Eithin asked.

 

“That’s why Polis doesn’t know about it — not in the schematics or attached to the grid.”

 

“How did it get here?”

 

“City’s original architect was a trifle paranoid. I helped him build it.”

 

“Six hundred years ago? Hope it still works.”

 

It did, though the stubborn hand-wheel made Eithin wish for his lost jo staff’s leverage. He peered through the opening, expecting a flyer berthed below. There was nothing but empty air.

 

“Ah, how does this hole to nowhere help us?”

 

“We jump.”

 

“What?! Lutibor has wanted to throw me off for years. Now I’m supposed to do it for him?!”

 

As if on cue, Lutibor entered the chamber. He smiled cruelly. “I told you there was nowhere to go.”

 

“Your turn to trust me, Eithin.”

 

Lutibor advanced, Decoherence Wand thrumming.

 

Eithin jumped. At least he had the satisfaction of seeing Lutibor’s sneer turn to shock.

 

He closed his eyes. Air screamed past, trying to pluck him from his path. He kept his elbows against his ribs, palms pressed to jaw, legs locked, toes pointed, spine straight — minimizing air resistance. What if a random gust blew them into the dark energy quintessence fields keeping City afloat?

 

“Not even Old Ones can control all variables.”

 

“That was supposed to be a private thought.”

 

“Too late for that.”

 

Eithin tried calculating how far they’d fallen, but numbers seemed to fly away. Surely they were past the quintessence fields. He didn’t open his eyes. What if Samson was wrong and the suppression matrix reached the surface? He tried pinging City’s net. The connection failed. Were they too far away? Generator interference? Or …

“I’ve got you, lad.”

 

He opened his eyes. Samson’s arms held him securely, the AI’s seraphim wings gently flapping. Below, the Sphere’s horizonless surface stretched endlessly.

 

“Samson, it’s beautiful.”

 

“Aye. Where shall we go first?”