I made a deal with my beta that I would balance my other Control story with something more positive. This was the result.
Screens swam before Miranda's eyes. The technical challenges of Lazarus had been exciting the first time around. Conquering death, doing something that had previously been the province of myth. This time it was mere drudgery. Hackett wanted to know if the cybernetics could be used to heal the millions maimed in the final battle. Miranda had complied. It was tedium, but tedium beat thinking about the Reapers outside her window. Or about Matt.
Matt. She had begun to believe that her brilliant, darling boy would survive this war. He had already done so many impossible things: bringing Wrex and the krogan into galactic society by curing the genophage, brokering peace between the geth and the quarians. The war had not broken him as it had so many others. When they had met briefly in the apartment, Matt had been full of plans for the future. He was going to paint again. Maybe he would go into politics and use his talents and fame for something better than destruction" to see that discrimination against biotics was a thing of the past. And they could have a life together. No more sneaking around and jumping up from each other's beds. The two of them would work together for human advancement. His enthusiasm had been infectious, and Miranda had allowed herself to hope. She could rebuild Cerberus—the real Cerberus, not the perversion of the last six months. There would be discoveries to be made and new paths to forge. And she could have all that without sacrificing Matt or Oriana. They might settle on Mindoir. It was quiet and remote, a good place to either raise a family or set up a base of operations, but within easy enough reach of Ilium, Noveria, and other important scientific centers. Yes, Mindoir would do nicely.
That was before the blue light emanating from the Citadel had turned Miranda's world upside down. Matt was gone, and the Reapers were busy repairing the damage they had caused. No one seemed to know what exactly had happened. And no one else seemed to care. It was enough that their enemies had become allies. They didn't have the strength to fight another war. But Miranda would study them, just in case. These cybernetics were the first step in creating better troops that could fight husks if need be. She wouldn't let the cycle give way to a softer tyranny. Humanity would learn to deal with these strange, mechanical gods. It was what Matt would have wanted.
Oriana put a hand on Miranda's shoulder. "It's almost midnight. You need to get some rest. I can finish up here."
"I'm fine."
Oriana's smile was somewhere between warm and sympathetic and a knowing smirk. "You've been reading the same page for the last twenty minutes, sis. Take a nap. Please?"
"Someday I'll figure out where you got those puppy dog eyes of yours. I certainly don't have them." Miranda sighed. "Fine. I'm going home."
The Citadel was quiet. The Reapers had mostly got it working again, but the station's population was only a fraction of what it had been before the war. One of those Reapers loomed in the artificial sky above the Presidium, red light from its "eye" casting an unearthly glow on the lake. Serenity and terror caught together in a single uncanny image. Impossible to know which would triumph. It was the sort of thing Matt would have loved to paint. He would have caught the contradictions, captured the majesty of a life form millions of years old without forgetting how utterly terrifying it was. Matt…
Tears stung her eyes. Yes, Matt could have captured all this, but he wasn't here to do it. However fragile detente, he had won her a tomorrow that he would never see. Damn him. They had always been so careful never to promise each other anything. He had loved her, and she had loved him, but they had known how quickly the war or Cerberus or simple bad luck could steal that happiness from them. It had been better to live in the moment. Sentimentality had made him promise to find her. Of course, he hadn't kept that promise. She had been a fool to expect otherwise. Damn him.
Yes, Miranda, he promised you. The voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it made frissons of anticipation and apprehension race up Miranda's spine. I have not forgotten.
Miranda's head snapped up. There was no one here, not even a keeper. And yet she had heard something. She was grief-stricken and lonely, but she wasn't insane. Her hand went automatically to the pistol at her side. "Show yourself."
I intend to. But not here. Come to the Council Chambers. I will explain what happened to your beloved and what happened to the Reapers. I have a proposition for you. You may bring the pistol if it makes you more comfortable.
"And walk straight into an ambush? I'm not an idiot."
Her unknown watcher laughed, if a sound that hollow and unearthly could be called laughter. I see you have lost none of the paranoia that kept you alive. Let us hope that you have retained your ambition as well. You will need it for what lies ahead. The voice paused as if in thought. Would Apollo's Café be acceptable?
Miranda thought. Apollo's was an open space, and there were plenty of escape routes should things turn sour. And the promise of a solution to the mysteries of Matt and the Reapers was worth a little risk. "I can be there in ten minutes."
I look forward to it.
The café was closed, and the outdoor section was deserted. False starlight fell across the tables, giving the scene a quiet, melancholy air. Leaves rustled somewhere nearby. Miranda sat down at one of the tables nearest the water. Back when she hadn't been running for her life, she had loved Apollo's. Cuisine from every corner of the galaxy had been served here. Batarian Shard Wine could complement Thessian Halibut. It had seemed marvelously exotic to a girl who had been cloistered on Earth until she was sixteen.
He was quite fond of this restaurant. I believe he intended to take you here on a date after the war was ended. I suppose I am honoring his wishes after a fashion.
Another beam of light fell across the chair opposite her. But this light grew in size until it was as large as a grown man. The light shifted and changed, as if it were marble being whittled down by a sculptor. Features emerged. Broad shoulders, a thin mouth, a long, straight nose. Tapering fingers ideally suited to holding a paintbrush. Miranda's eyes widened in disbelief. No. It couldn't be… Matt was dead, vanished without a trace months ago. But here he was, crafted out of starlight.
Hello, Miranda. The mysterious voice had changed. It was still eerie and not quite human, but there was a dim approximation of warmth that hadn't been there before. Memories that she had kept locked away now stirred. Matt whooping with joyous laughter as he created his first singularity. Matt looking around him in exhausted disbelief as he realized that he hadn't lost a man to the Collectors. Matt stroking her hair and insisting he would always want her in his life.
Her vision blurred as the tears that had threatened earlier now came in force. "Matt? How? I don't understand." She reached out to touch him, to confirm that this was not some fever dream.
He pulled away from her. No, Miranda. I am not him. He frowned as he said it, but it was the strangest frown Miranda had seen, as if he couldn't naturally do them and was trying to mimic what he had only seen described in books. I am his legacy.
Miranda listened in astonishment as The Thing That Was Not Matt spun its incredible tale. The AI that wore the face of a child. An inevitable conflict between synthetic and organics. A race extinguished by its own creation to become the first Reapers. He became me so that he could use the Reapers to heal the wounds of this war. And heal the Reapers themselves, if such a thing is possible. They are so broken.
Thoughts raced around Miranda's head like out of control skycars. Matt—you—controls the Reapers? And he chose to do it? He wanted them destroyed."
Because he believed it was the only path to peace. It was not. The price for simple destruction was judged too high. Each Reaper is all that remains of a civilization. The geth and the creature you call EDI would have perished alongside them. He believed it would be the largest genocide in history. So he sacrificed himself to create me so that all might live.
And that was when Miranda decided the creature was telling the truth. Matt's nobility had been alternately infuriating and endearing. She had practically had to drag him onto the shuttle at Lazarus Station when he had insisted on looking for survivors. He had gambled by rewriting the heretic geth rather than destroying them because he thought he "ought to at least give them a chance." Yes, he would do something like this.
"So now he has the power of the Reapers at his command. I hope he can handle it." And I hope he still cares for me wherever he is.
He has nothing. The man you call Matthias Shepard died when I was born. All that he was exists within me. His love of art and his love of you. But I cannot feel as he did. The creature shook its head. I cannot love you. Memories and feelings exist within me, but they are merely data.
"Then what good are you?" Miranda's throat burned. "An all-powerful AI. We exist because you permit it. What's stopping you from crushing us like insects? A tyrant without feeling. That isn't what Matt would have wanted."
He gave me directives. I know what he wished the two of you to create. A galaxy free of the self-interest of the Council, where humanitycould advance not by oppression, but by creating knowledge. I will ensure that the many are protected. I will build the future you and he wished for. All will have a voice in that future. The galaxy will not need to fear men like Henry Lawson who think that their wealth and power gives them license to do as they please. The man I was thought you were a marvel. He wanted to create a world where there were more like you and they were not hated and feared because of their gifts.
The knife twisted in Miranda's chest. The creature was so like Matt and yet so not like him. Yes, this was the vision they had shared, but described in such a toneless, emotionless way that it made Miranda shiver. The creature was right; it wasn't Matt. It was a mockery of him, as those half-husk troops had been a mockery of the Cerberus she served. "Why are you telling me this? You could have one of your Reapers kill me here and now. It doesn't matter if I know your plans or what I think of them. So why bother?"
It frowned again, no more naturally than before. My predecessor had noble goals. It wished to preserve organic and synthetic life. The solution it created was unacceptable. I am not God, Miranda. I will live for as long as the Citadel exists, and I command the Reapers, but I am not omniscient. If my code were to develop errors or was otherwise flawed, I could become the very thing he sought to destroy. As you said, none would be able to stand against me. I wish for this state of affairs to be temporary. Life, organic and synthetic, should be wise and strong enough to stand against me if I am ever wrong. I wish to assist, not to rule.
The thing grew silent for a long moment, studying its transparent hands. It didn't look at her. My memories of him indicated that our meeting would likely cause you emotional pain, and I had intended to keep my existence secret from you for that reason, but there's no other option. You are the best candidate. It stretched forth its right hand. The fingertips were no longer transparent, but glowing with white light. Organic life is far below me and the Reapers. He could have chosen to transform all life so that it could access their knowledge and power and so the ultimate crisis could be averted. That was my predecessors wish. The man I was rejected this. He believed life must choose the shape and form its ascension will take. But I can give you the first spark. I can place a little knowledge into your head. In time, it will allow you to equal or surpass me. I will be unnecessary.
Miranda leaned back in her chair. "You want to give me the power to surpass you?" But her mind was whirring. Instinct told her it was telling the truth insofar as its alien mind understood the term. And it was right about the Reapers. Life had no chance against them now if they ever turned hostile. Its offer might kill her, but she had been ready to die to save Oriana and shut down Sanctuary. If she could give humanity a fighting chance… "What will happen to me?"
You will be what you will be. The knowledge will not change you. Only what you decide to do with it will. It is only the first piece of the puzzle, what cave paintings are to modern art. But, with what I offer, life will ascend in time. You and I only have to see that it survives long enough. The glow in its fingertips intensified. Touch me and accept.
Miranda stared at the glowing fingers. Ascension. Knowledge. Everything she and Matt had fought for, however strangely was being presented now. She touched her fingertip to its…
Energy arced between them like electricity, and Miranda convulsed. Her senses seemed sharper than they had moments ago. She saw the scuffs on the table at the other end of the café, heard the heating unit thrumming below them. Equations flitted across her mind, just waiting to be written down and analyzed. She looked at the Reaper in the distance. In no longer evoked awe and terror, Zha'til, her mind supplied. A crude, disastrous form of what we are meant to be.
The creature had changed too. There was now the faintest blush of color in its cheeks, and she could distinguish Matt's auburn hair and brilliant blue eyes. It looked at her in wonder. Real wonder, not a pantomimed emotion. I… I seem to have miscalculated. The knowledge transfer seems to have altered me as well. I felt your worry, your grief. There are no longer merely data within me. I experience them much as you would. It looked down at its newly-colored hands. You have become more like me, but I have become more like you.
It ran its fingers through its hair. The knife in Miranda's heart went a little deeper. It was a familiar gesture of anxiety. Matt's hand had seemed permanently attached to his hair while they were going through the Omega-4 relay. I was cold and cruel to you Miranda. I cared only about dispensing facts in the most efficient way possible. Forgive me. He never wanted to cause you pain, and neither do I.
And what could she say to that with this strange knowledge racing through her head? "You can't help what you are."
No, but you have made me something else. A true hybrid of what he was and my predecessor. Something that can regret. It looked at her with the same helpless expression Matt had had after he blew up the Alpha Relay. His feelings are no longer data.
Miranda stared at it—him?—in astonishment. After they had made love in the apartment, Matt had stumbled over his words as he tried and failed to explain what it had been like to see the geth truly alive and individual and taking their first steps toward cooperation with the quarians. As he so often did when words failed him, he had turned to paper and pencil, sketching the sight of quarians and geth together on Rannoch for the first time in centuries. But even that had been inadequate to explain what it was to see bits of data and code transfigure into something truly alive. What had she done?
She rose shakily, her legs like water under her. "Matt?"
But he shook his head. No, still not the man you knew. I am Matt as he might've been if he had been an AI who has existed for almost as long as there has been civilization. But I am alive, or closer to it than I was before. He swallowed. Thank you.
He stood up and took the few steps to the railing. Miranda followed him without a word. He leaned over and stared out at the lake with the same thoughtful expression Matt had worn so many times, though Miranda noticed he was careful not to touch anything. Alive. She had brought Matt back once before, but at least she had known what he was and what to do next. But this…man who was and was not her beloved? Who had given her this impossible task? How was she supposed to deal with him day after day, year after year?
I am trying to remember what the breeze felt like. I have memories of moments like this one, many of them with you. I remember the words: breeze, cool, touch. But I lack the sensory apparatus to truly understand the sensation. I miss it.
"Then build a body. EDI's tactile and olfactory sensors seemed to work quite well."
Just like that? The Citadel and the vast computing powers of every Reaper is part of my mind. I am not sure incarnation is possible.
Miranda managed a smile. "They told me it was impossible to bring you back."
He mimicked her smile. Indeed. It seems we both have goals for the future. His head dropped and his translucent muscles tensed as if he were shifting from foot to foot. Miranda? I cannot stay. They need me. But may I… may I kiss you this once for his sake? He regretted he did not do it the last time you met. I cannot physically touch you, but I can feel other things. His voice grew small. I will not hurt you. I promise.
He looked so utterly miserable. Not Matt, but all that was left of him. Their last goodbye had been over comms as she yearned to embrace him one last time but couldn't. They deserved better. "Yes."
He brought his mouth to hers. As promised, there was no warmth or weight to his touch, but energy raced through her. It was wild and fierce, anticipation and desire combined into a heady cocktail. Memories she had tried not to think of raced up: engine rooms and playful seductions, apartments and stolen kisses. Matt murmuring that he would always want her in his life. Grief as she realized he would never keep his last promise to her.
Thank you. He blinked, as if he too were fighting back tears. I will not forget this night. I will not forget you. We have our work to do, but perhaps that is not the end of the story. And, with that, he was gone.
Miranda stumbled home, her thoughts full of the past and the future.
Any interest in a sequel? There's something irresistible to me about the Shepalyst falling in love, but I always did like Death Takes A Holiday.