Author's note: thank you to those who answered my request for reviews. The replies I got were wide-ranging and detailed; I could not have asked for more. Now, we continue.


"Next question."

"Minister, what is the government's position on Reploid Nation?"

"We're still confirming the authenticity of message that announced it. The origination code is previously unknown, and the content is, in our view, highly dubious. We have no official position on something that may or may not exist. Next question."

"Minister, is this yet another example of a high-ranking Maverick Hunter going Maverick and, if so, what does that say about the reliability of the Hunters?"

"That's two questions. I'll assume the first one is the one you care about and answer it. As I said, we are still confirming the authenticity of that message. We are not prepared to condemn a highly decorated Hunter as a Maverick until we have more information."

"Follow up, does that mean a reploid that goes to Reploid Nation is not a Maverick?"

"The government has not acknowledged the existence of Reploid Nation. Reploids going to point 11F5646 are not necessarily Mavericks unless they've abandoned other responsibilities to do so. In that case, they'd be in violation of the Second Law and, of course, Mavericks. Next question."

"Why didn't the government tell the public about Eurasia until after the alleged message from the alleged Zero?"

"What, are you mad that Zero scooped you?" Nervous tittering. "In the first place, it wouldn't have done the public any good to know, given the other crises that were happening. It would have merely added to the public hysteria. In the second place, we weren't in a position to spread that information even if we wanted to. We lost virtually all capacity to communicate with the outside world. Even now things remain degraded. Cross-continent communications are slowly coming up since we reactivated the old submerged cables, but they're inconsistent, and even local communications are packed to capacity with backlogged traffic. Until the Hunters started bringing the towers back online, the crisis was virtually unknown outside this building. We physically could not get the word out."

"Follow up. Couldn't you have left the building and spread the word the old-fashioned way?"

"Mr. Hearst, you should be ashamed of yourself. You didn't come here for this press conference, did you?"

"Not when the government is so willing to hold vidcons."

"And we're willing to use vidcon because we don't want to put the press corps at unnecessary risk. Gentlemen, government officials, in case you haven't noticed, are huge targets. The police force has been devastated, again. Space Command is all but destroyed. Even minor functionaries have been relentlessly persecuted. God forbid you work at the DMV. Entire directorates have yet to report in. What kind of life expectancy would you place on my employees, human or reploid, who ventured forth from this building? Next question."

"Is Sigma behind this?"

"We're still gathering information. We had a sighting of Sigma twenty hours ago, but we haven't seen or heard from it since. Next question."

"Was Eurasia's fall part of this Maverick uprising?"

"We may never know. It appeared to be a deliberate action, but we don't know who did it or why, and all the evidence has been incinerated. I won't speculate in that direction. Next question."

"How are the Hunters responding to Reploid Nation?"

"I have nothing specific to say there."

"Generalities, then?"

"We have given the Hunters no specific direction regarding Reploid Nation. They've been too busy trying to keep violence from spiraling out of control. Next question."

"Minister, I wanted to ask-"

"...Mr. Fleegman? ... Mr. Fleegman? ... We appear to have lost Mr. Fleegman. I suppose I needn't remind all of you that things are still a mess out there. I have time for one more question."

"What's X going to do?"

"Ah... I wish I knew."

"Does that mean the government has lost control of the Maverick Hunters?"

"I didn't say that. I believe there are times when a boss has to trust the judgement of his subordinates. X is smart, capable, and very loyal. His honesty and commitment to the good of humanity are beyond question. More importantly, he is much closer to the problem than I am. He has information not available to others at this time. If anyone knows what to do, he does."

"Follow up. Wouldn't you have used the same terms to describe Zero twenty-four hours ago?"

"I said one more question and that's your third. We're done here."


The tube hissed as it opened.

"Power levels are at maximum," Lifesaver said. "We've completed second-order repairs. You're operating as near full capacity as we can get you without a total overhaul."

"Which you will need, after this," Dr. Cain said. Lifesaver gave Dr. Cain a sharp look, which the human ignored. X made no reaction.

They watched X get out of the tube. His eyes looked around and past them. His mind was elsewhere.

"Do watch how much thrust you get out of your right leg," Dr. Cain said. "And your left arm's buster is showing some fatigue. It probably can't handle sustained maximum output. That shouldn't matter, I'm just letting you know."

X didn't nod or respond in any way. He did a few high-steps, stretched his arms over his head, and flexed his fingers. It was a practical diagnostic—balance, gross motor control, fine motor control. Satisfied, he turned to leave. He didn't walk very quickly. He moved the way a glacier moves.

There was no mystery in his destination. He was awaited at every turn. The population of Hunter Base tried to make it less awkward. Some of them had the courtesy to pretend to be working on something else. Others passed X in the hallway as if they were headed elsewhere. All wanted to see him. None dared speak.

X had run many gauntlets before. This one was different, and difficult in its own way. There was less running. He felt equally alone. Fear for his life was still present if distant, but on top of that was the burden of expectation. Everywhere, he saw anxiety in the faces of the Hunters. It amplified what he felt. He knew that those emotions were why they were looking to him. They needed him. Somehow he had to be strong enough to feel their emotions resonate with his, then reverse them. They expected him to lift them up even as they drug him down.

They didn't need to speak to make this point. He echoed their muteness.

Which is not to say things were quiet. People crowded around his path, they followed him, they stopped their work, and all of that made some noise. Without words, it still seemed an unnerving, unnatural quiet. They were waiting for him to speak before they would.

He knew this; he could feel it. It was as if something was trapped in his chest and was surging to escape. He had to keep his mouth shut to hold it in. If he spoke, what then? What could he possibly say to them? What reassurance could he offer when so much was in doubt, so much was fluid?

It would be irresponsible to promise something he could not deliver. Being irresponsible was against his deepest nature.

As he walked through his fellows, beset by their needs and fears, their wants and hopes, their dependence and their reliance, he felt unworthy of their attentions. The weight of it was like an airbrake. It retarded his movements and made even the simplest action take effort.

There was no way he could possibly do all that they wanted of him. His fertile mind had spun out hundreds of outcomes. Assigning probabilities to them was impossible. That said, only the best-case ones fulfilled what X's comrades wanted, and experience had taught X to put slim odds on best-case scenarios.

What had the ancient philosopher said? That wisdom lay in knowing what one does not know? Even by that standard, X felt himself a fool.

He felt like he was groping around blindly. He remembered his dream of being lost in blackness; it felt particularly apt. Except that this blackness was needy and pitiable and, in its own way, so demanding.

What could he do, anyway? He was a murderer. He'd killed reploids who'd committed no crime. He'd been unable to find a way through the problems and others had paid for it. He had no right to try and lead others, whether he could do it or not.

He had nothing to offer them. Nothing but himself.

It wasn't until he got to the hangar that he realized that was all they were asking for.

The realization made him gasp. He came to a dead halt. The crowd that was moving with him did likewise. He raised a hand in front of his face.

All this time I thought they were only interested in what I could do when this ended in buster. That's not it at all. They're just as interested in who I am.

I don't know how this happened, or why, but somewhere along the way… people started relying on me. What I did mattered. They began to follow my example. They echoed my thoughts and beliefs. They respected me for more than my battle record.

I should have noticed. I should have understood what was happening. I was so busy feeling uncomfortable and unworthy that I didn't do anything about it. All I could see were my faults, so I missed the value they saw in my virtues. I never believed in myself, so I couldn't see how anyone else could believe in me.

They do, though.

They do, and I never justified that faith. I just ducked my head down and acted like I thought a Hunter should.

But I'm more than a Hunter. They need me to be more than a Hunter.

Because I know what needs to be done. I've thought about it, and thought, and thought. I've avoided the logical conclusion for too long. The time for that is past. If ever I had doubt about what one robot can do, Zero has obliterated it. If he can change the world… then so can I.

It's time I take responsibility for that.

All at once the feelings around him changed. Instead of being dragged down by the other Hunters, he felt them supporting him. Instead of being suppressed by their doubts, he felt elevated by their trust. Instead of being fragmented by their many needs, he felt the unity of their singular devotion. Instead of the chill of solitude, he felt the warmth of company.

He let the feeling spread from his heart out to his toes. He felt alive.

He felt obliged to give some of that feeling back. He tried to find the center of the crowd. He faced in that direction and bowed humbly. "I wish I could tell you more. I wish I could… reassure you all, or make you feel better. I can't, not now. There's so much uncertainty. I don't know what's going to happen—except for one thing."

The fire in X's heart flared like a nova. Act, it said.

Yes.

"I'm going."


"I'm going."

"What?" Signas' voice conveyed his surprise. He'd just heard the same from the image of X on-screen, but that wasn't X's voice. He looked to Alia.

The coordinator returned his gaze with irresistible force. It left Signas off-balance. "I said, I'm going. If he's going, I'm going."

"But you're most useful here," Signas said.

Alia pushed a button on her console. As one, the screens around the perimeter turned off, dimming the room considerably. "Do you know why I was given legs?" Alia asked.

"Huh?"

"I could have been like a terminal-bot, really, for what my job is. But that's not what I wanted. I asked for legs and got them. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because there are things you have to see." Another two commands. The typing of the terminal-bots cut out in an instant. "Whenever there's distance, there's uncertainty. You're only getting part of the story. Your perspective is limited to the data available. I know that better than anyone.

"It gets worse when the data are second-hand. When someone tells you something, they change the story in the telling, even when they don't mean to. A person with no agenda in a story still alters it. He acts as a filter. He's decided what's important and what's not. Is he right? You don't know. You can only trust stories so far."

She never let her gaze drop. It was too much for Signas. It was overpowering. "Signas, that won't work for me this time. What's happening today will change the world forever. I won't be told what happened by someone else. I will see for myself."

"You heard what Zero said," Signas answered, still uncertain. "He doesn't want us coming near him."

"I'll take that chance," she replied. "If he wins, we may be out of a job soon, anyway. At least I'll know what happened. I'm going. If anyone asks, I'm providing close on-scene support for X. I just wanted you to know what else I'm thinking." She threw one more button. The lights cut out. The command center was fully shut down. They could see only because the lights from the hall spilled in through the open door.

Alia walked for the exit. "If you have any misguided notions of pride or duty that tell you to protect me, you're going to have to come with me." She added, as an afterthought, "Sir."

Signas was beginning to wonder if a virus was going around after all.

He caught up with her just as she reached the hangar. "I doubt we're the only ones with this idea," Signas said.

"I know we're not. That's why I had Douglas prep the Land Carrier."

Signas realized that was where she was headed. The Land Carrier was far from his favorite vehicle. It was large, clumsy, and seemed so antiquated—it used treads, for crying out loud. On the other hand, it could carry three full squads of Hunters over any terrain. If Zero's forces did decide to try and stop them, they would think twice about messing with the Carrier. Looking at it, Signas realized it was probably approaching capacity. Hunters who had missed spots on the Carrier were scrambling for every other mode of conveyance available. Vehicles were leaving moment by moment. Each was packed to the brim with people.

"Where is everybody going?" Signas asked.

"Where do you think?" said Alia.

Signas buried his face in his palm. "Don't they realize this isn't a picnic? We could very easily be going straight to our deaths."

"Then we'd better hurry! I hear Death hates people who aren't punctual." Alia grabbed one of Signas' hands and pulled him forward. He out-massed her, and still she dragged him along like a kite. "Come on, I saved us spots in the cab."

As she released Signas and reached for the ladder, a hover-cycle blew between her and Signas. Signas stepped back involuntarily, looked in the direction of the fleeing cycle. "Hey, watch it!"

"Sorry, my boy!"

Signas blinked heavily. He replayed the video, slowly this time. "That was Dr. Cain," he said.

"Signas!"

Signas climbed quickly. Douglas and Alia were waiting for him. He grabbed at the Carrier's communications console. "Dr. Cain, get back here."

"It's too late for that, my boy. You're sure not going to catch me in that behemoth!"

"That's not your hover-cycle. Do you even know how to ride one?"

"Of course. Push the big red button marked "auto"."

"You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Why Signas, I didn't know you cared. Now get off the line. I have to tell some people where I'm going."

Signas looked across Alia to Douglas. "Can you cut the power to that thing remotely?"

Douglas considered this for a moment. "Well, I suppose I probably could… but…"

"You'll let him go, too, won't you?" asked Alia.

"Yeah, won't you?"

"You're coming with us, how could you stop him?"

"Yeah, can't he go, too?"

The looks his subordinates gave him put Signas in mind of children asking for dessert. He couldn't hold up against them. He smiled a helpless smile and fell back into his seat. "Oh, rust it. Let him go."

The other robots cheered like sports fans. Signas pointed forward. "Come on, let's get this show on the road. We've got front-row seats at Armageddon Stadium and we don't want to miss the kickoff!"

The Land Carrier lurched into motion.


Once more, Dr. Cain was largely to blame. He started telling his acquaintances that X was going and that he was following. Word spread. There was nothing official about it. It was purely spontaneous. Soon, humans started packing into vehicles and following along.

Others saw the Hunter vehicles streaming after X, decided it had to be important, and followed.

Some reploids had already made the decision to run for Reploid Nation. Now more did because it seemed like the place to be.

Certain neighborhoods had become war zones due to the constant fighting between Mavericks and vigilantes. X's departure caused those neighborhoods to informally come to a truce, as no other occurrence could, and members of both sides chased after the robot.

The Neighborhood Safety Committee went. The principal of a middle school liberated by the Hunters went. A restaurant owner and his wife went. Altern went, though they had to rig a travel tube for him because he wasn't yet repaired enough to leave the base on his own. Those who worked in the communications sector went in droves.

Vehicles streamed out of the city. Reploid and human alike made best speed for point 11F5646, following in X's wake. The fastest caught up to him and fell into formation behind.

X noticed. He spent about ten minutes wallowing in angst about it. When he saw the Land Carrier move into the vanguard, he'd had enough. "Land Carrier, this is X. Where do you think you're going?"

Alia's reply was lilting. "Wherever you're going, of course."

"I'm going into danger. Turn around."

"Yooooou fiiiiirst."

X got the feeling she wasn't taking this seriously. "I can't guarantee your safety. You should be flagging all these people down and turning them around, not leading them on."

"X, I—oh. Signas wants to say something to you."

X could hear them passing the handset to Signas. "X, do you copy?" Signas' voice was stately to the point of caricature. It made X want to roll his eyes just hearing it.

"I hear you."

"I have something very important to tell you, X. Are you listening?"

"I'm listening."

"Shut the rust up and drive."

X almost veered off the road. Over the still-open circuit, he heard schoolgirl-esque giggling, and he couldn't tell who was making it.

Despite it all—despite his mission, despite Zero's message, despite the looming uncertainty, despite the crushing weight of expectations—X decided things weren't so bad. A small smile stole over his face. He eased off the accelerator a bit to allow the massive convoy behind him to catch up. If they wanted to see what was going to happen, he wouldn't deny them simply because traffic was bad.

Zero had said there was no rush, after all. What was another half an hour between friends?


City gave way to suburb. Row upon row of houses, strip malls, shopping centers, and restaurants of every description packed themselves into any available acre. Signs oozing with pretentiousness set off carbon-copy residential blocks. Digital billboards advertised products and services of boggling variety. Enough trees remained to convince people that this was definitely not the city, except when convenient for tax purposes. For the same reason, multi-story buildings were an unspoken taboo.

With eerie suddenness, as if divided by an invisible wall, the suburbs ended and the savannah began. The roads grew fewer and smaller, until there was only one left. X stayed on the road to lead the way. Behind him, those with faith in their vehicles' resilience left the road to those with frailer means. The number of them sent great clouds of dust billowing into the air.

A wildebeest herd was grazing just off the road. The vehicles of the convoy parted around the herd like a stone in a stream. The animals watched with ancient bovine indifference. The nearby lioness was not as understanding. Most of the wildlife saw them coming and stayed well away. The flora had fewer options.

On they drove through endless yellowed grasses. Rare stands of trees broke up their progress. The land gently rolled; long stretches of flat surrendered height grudgingly. Eventually X had to abandon the road. Under other circumstances, some vehicle owners would never have consented to going off-road. It was rough and uncomfortable and expensive. Today, such objections found no purchase.

It had dawned into a bright, cloudless day. There was no breeze, but the sun wasn't too hot on anyone this early in the morning, so it was pleasant overall. The cheer the weather inspired was in stark contrast to the dire nature of the mission. Yet it was hard for those embarked to stay dour. There would be certainty after this, and certainty has a potent effect on people's minds.

Most, in all truth, didn't think of the destination at all, or about what was waiting for them. They talked with each other. They enjoyed the weather and the scenery. Hyper-urbania could get tedious, especially when packed with potential enemies. Desolation had its virtues. Even with it so close by, most people never bothered to get away. They were too busy; there was too much work in the city; it took so much effort; what was there to do out there, really? Since they were following X in that direction anyway, it was best to enjoy it while they could.

X was alone on his cycle, so he spent the time with his thoughts. One by one, he selected memories and even dreams and inspected them, as if he were a collector taking specimens off a shelf. He replaced them just as carefully, for he was beginning to place great value upon his memories.

No analysis. Just reliving. Re-experiencing. He felt as if his mind was drifting along in idle. His thoughts were beginning to coalesce. He felt himself closing in on something as surely as his cycle closed in on Reploid Nation. He made no effort to guide his mind in any direction that might disrupt the process.

The convoy got larger and broader as it approached Zero's stand-off circle. The border crossing was the test X had waited for. He signaled that he was slowing. The convoy responded with all the grace and agility of a freight train. Five armed reploids were in X's path. Their faces had, at one point, worn confidence. That was long-since replaced by an overwhelmed aspect. X found he couldn't blame them.

He stopped within a meter of them. "Take me to Zero," he said.

The reploids glanced from one to another. Their thoughts were the same. Surely someone knows what he's doing. Surely someone other than me knows what he's doing. That means I can just wait until they figure it out.

No one did.

The first robots had been purpose-driven designs. Hardware and software alike had been focused on making sure the robots performed specific tasks. No capacity existed to act otherwise. They would carry out their purpose or come apart in the attempt.

Reploids, on the other hand, were designed to be intelligent. They could choose their own purpose. Humans built them to be like that, but the only reference the humans had to intelligence of that level was other humans. And humans are pack animals.

The convoy behind X was an awfully big pack.

The awkward moment stretched out as the silent battle was waged. One of them finally mustered the nerve to say, "We'll take you there. You'll have to leave all that…" he waved broadly at the convoy, "…behind."

"I have nothing to do with them," X said. "They're acting on their own."

Another glance-and-stare contest ensued. They had Zero's orders that said no one was allowed to come with X. Somehow, they didn't think that Zero anticipated them being outnumbered dozens-to-one when the moment came.

Then there was X himself. They knew his reputation. His expression was neutral, maybe even benevolent. It didn't reassure them. On the basis of his reputation, the reploids surmised that he would still be wearing that expression when he killed them.

Threats don't have to be shouted. Sometimes a blank stare will suffice. "Well, come along, then," the brave reploid said. He retreated to their vehicle while the other four moved aside.

…and kept moving, and kept moving, and—just how big was this convoy, anyway?

X was happy as could be, given the circumstances. No violence so far and he hadn't had to waste any energy. Good. He would need every erg for what was coming.

He couldn't hold on to thinking about the future. It was slipping through his fingers like water. He'd settle it, one way or another, soon enough. Until then, fretting could accomplish nothing, no matter how much it was in his nature.

X decided to listen to some music. This was something new for him. He had, ages ago and at Dr. Cain's insistence, listened to a few pieces. Since the doctor had been performing a cognitive scan at the time, X had written it off as part of the test. It's not that he didn't like music. The act of listening just seemed so… inefficient.

This occasion seemed right. He started some.

Hm.

Hmmmm.

If he lived, he would have to try more.


The closer X got the worse the terrain got. Hills and gulches took over the countryside. The grasses thinned and the animals were rarer, as if there were something here that inhibited life. Ever-larger rocks littered the landscape like golf balls on a giant's driving range.

And there were the reploids. A large number seemed to have responded to Zero's offer of protection. Rivulets of them were headed towards a single location. X and his convoy went in the same direction, though more slowly than before over the uneven ground.

A small number of reploids hadn't made it. They'd run down on power or suffered crippling failures along the way. X had to quickly avert his eyes from such macabre sights. Compassion whined for him to stop. Mission compelled him to continue. It was not pleasant to be caught between such imperatives.

In the distance, a mountain seemed to frown down on the insects in its shadow. The loss of the sun made matters suddenly chill. It combined with the lifeless landscape to make people's moods swiftly darken.

Only the company of the music kept X's thoughts from straying. His mind drifted gently. It was like he was dreaming again—but no, this was better. His sleep had been wracked with nightmares. This ride and the music drew just enough of his attention that he stayed out of dangerous places.

More reploids. X started having to maneuver around them, or sound a siren to cause them to move. They slowed the convoy considerably. X was heartened to see some of the convoy vehicles pick up the strays. He couldn't extend such a courtesy, given his circumstances, and he doubted any of the reploids out there would have accepted a ride from the Hunter.

His guide led him into the thick of a milling crowd of robots. There was a gap in the herd. On the far side of it, X could see a rock with a large patch of darkness in it. Intuition told him that was his destination. He slowed to a stop far earlier than was necessary.

He took his time in shutting down the hover-cycle. It was in top shape already—Douglas had taken X's request very seriously—so there was nothing much for him to do. He made a show of it anyway. Similarly, as he dismounted, he did several unnecessary self-checks. The only damage taken during the trip was the suicidal collision of an insect against his helmet. He was as prepared as he was going to be.

Some of the reploids wondered if he was hesitating somehow. Others contended that he was intimidated and was trying to avoid the situation. Still others thought he was playing for time, though they didn't know what for. The last group was correct. All he wanted was to give people in the convoy time to get out of their vehicles and close in. They'd come to see. Even if it there wasn't much to see, yet, they would see it.

He couldn't draw things out any longer. He began to walk for the entrance. The experience was familiar and uncanny. Once more, he was walking through a throng and all eyes were upon him. He was unperturbed.

He'd already decided he was going. That had been settled. He would face whatever Zero had waiting for him. The pressure of the crowd never touched him, not when the fire in his heart was raging so.

The entrance to the base had no stairs or ladders down. It was a drop into the unknown—a leap of faith. X had to smile at the theater of it. It would be difficult to come back. That was okay. He had no plans to, not yet. He would settle this first. Figuring out how to return could wait.

That didn't mean that he was going to let Zero dictate terms to him. Smiling to himself, he leaned over the hole and fired a buster shot down. The burning brightness of the plasma bolt illuminated the pit as it fell before impacting at the bottom. X closed his eyes to review what he'd seen. Yes… that was all the information he needed to descend safely.

Zero had cloaked himself in darkness. X's light pierced it.

He went in.


Next time: Disonante- Different Dreams