3
Ernst watched the One stare at the lifeless husk of the Orsa. Its stink did not seem to bother him. But his silence disturbed Ernst. The command had come to meet him here, yet the One had spoken not a single word since Ernst arrived, when he’d found him standing just as he was now.
Ernst rolled his sore shoulders. Every muscle in his body ached from the Taser shock he’d received yesterday. A terrible experience. So helpless . . . completely at the mercy of that man.
His jaw clenched. Who was he? He knew much more than he should. It hadn’t been Glaeken, he was sure of that. He’d never seen the legendary foe, but he was reputed to be a large man with flaming hair. This bearded stranger had been average in size and looks.
Whoever he was, he had to be found. Thompson hadn’t seen him, but he was savagely intent on finding him. Ernst would add the Order and the Dormentalists to the Kickers numbers in the hunt. They’d find him. And when they did . . .
But that was the future. Ernst hoped the One would allow him a future.
He forced himself to speak, not simply to break the unbearable silence, but because he needed to know.
“How could this happen? How could the Fhinntmanchca have failed?”
A protracted silence followed, but finally the One responded.
“The Fhinntmanchca did not fail. It did exactly what it was designed to do. But what happened after its success . . . that is troubling. Her source recreated her almost instantly. It should not have been able to do that. In fact, it was considered an impossibility. Something has changed, something unforeseen has taken place within her source, enhanced its power. You must learn what that is and reverse it. Soon.”
And then he turned and walked away, leaving Ernst alone with his thoughts and the remains of the Orsa.
The source . . . Ernst was familiar with the concept of another plane of existence engendered by the sum of human thoughts and interactions. In many circles it was considered a theory or a pipe dream. Ernst knew different. He knew it existed and was the progenitor of the Lady.
In and of itself, the übermind was no impediment to the Otherness. But its creation—its Eve, as it were—was. Through the Lady it trumpeted its existence to the multiverse, and thus to the Enemy. It was powerful and grew incrementally more so with each increase in the sentient population of the biosphere. But it should not have been powerful enough to reconstruct its instrument in a flash. That bespoke enormous power.
What was fueling that power?
And then . . . a flash of insight. He might be right, he might be wrong, but he saw an entirely new avenue of attack.
Excited, he hurried after the One to tell him.