LV. Chess in the Mirror
Self-awareness, mother of resilience.
- THE BENE GESSERIT CODA
Captain Xero's ship had plummeted from a height of ten mountains, crash-landing at the center of a circle no wider than a house. Miles Teg looked at the olive-skinned man, said: "An act of bravery, captain."
"How reckless of me," the captain smiled, his azure eyes holding Miles' gaze. "I am sorry I burned the old trees. I hear they were your mother's. Well met, Bashar."
"Reckless? Or downright heroic? They were not my mother's orchard though," Teg corrected. "My daughter's."
The captain was already a tall man, but he towered like a giant over the kid-sized Bashar. Like a Goliath to a David, Teg thought. This daredevil had hit the equivalent of a needle-wide spot jumping from a skyscraper. Who was he? And where had this self-styled captain recruited a crew of eight who willingly risked their lives to perform such a grandiose gesture? And why here? Landing in Odrade's dead orchards couldn't be a coincidence.
A grand entrance to command immediate attention, of course. The guard at the door had gestured in the ancient Atreides shorthand: The captain specifically asked to talk to you. Predictably, the crew's bodies were saturated with shere, closing the door to an Ixian probe search.
"It's been a long time," the captain muttered. He spoke quickly without letting Teg reply: "Pursuant to the trade order offered to Xero Traivani, captain of the Obsidian, by Bashar Miles Teg of the Bene Gesserit, the Obsidian is arrived to fulfill its obligations and hence bringing the following bill of lading: interferometers, ten thousand units; sample rifle weaponry, a hundred units, and — "
"Wait," squeaked the Bashar, the grown-up gravitas in strident contrast with his high-pitched child's voice. He almost replied: But we have never met, captain Xero. But didn't. Teg glanced anxiously at the comeyes on the ceiling, wishing he could do away with Archives watching.
"A sample capsule," the captain said confidently, holding out his hand to reveal a small, round object.
The captain's act was direct, sincere, greeting him warmly and naturally. Intuition alerted Teg to a bigger game at play. Impossibly, this man had met him before.
He almost let other words escape his tongue: How come my guards did not find this capsule when they searched you? There was no immediate danger, his senses told him; so he took the capsule from the large hand and pressed it hard between index and thumb.
"You've activated it now, Sir."
"And its function is?"
"It's the interferometer, Sir, per the spec. To anyone watching, comeyes and listening devices will now record a casual conversation," said the captain, triumphantly. He advanced closer.
The Bashar took a step back. "Despite appearances, captain, I warn you an attempt to overpower me will only fail."
"I know. He told me you would say that."
"So you only want to talk in private?"
"That's correct."
"I don't believe we have ever met."
"My instructions are clear, Sir. Contact the Bashar Miles Teg or any ghola equivalent on Chapterhouse."
A ghola equivalent? Teg turned the tiny device over in his hand. "Oour guards will tell a simulation from the real thing."
"Respectfully no, Sir. The interferometer uses dialogue samples from the real Miles Teg. The audio is, in all respects, indistinguishable from the real thing."
"And the camera?"
"The capsule acquired our visuals and is projecting realistic replicas with the right camera angles. It is very thorough."
"Ingenious," the Bashar said.
"Ten thousand units as ordered," the captain replied. "A highly useful gadget from the Seeking."
"The Obsidian's design is alien to me. Where is it from?"
Silence. Teg waited.
"It was a trip nine-month long, Sir."
"That's not informative." A nine month trip could reach three or four times the span of the old Imperium with Ixian engines, Teg reflected.
"But, spacefolding once per hour, Sir."
That gave Teg pause. Commercial no-ships fold space once a week on average. It was time-consuming to reconcile visual observations with maps and detect the unavoidable navigation errors that meant the difference between life and death while traveling over incommensurable distances. This was no average ship. From the deep Scattering. A Scattering of Scatterings. Unbelievably far. And an unbelievably valuable technology, worth far more than its cargo. The adage was indeed true: a pilot with the proper coordinates could travel to multiple universes in the span of a few jumps.
"Once per hour? That leaves little time for customs."
"Customs, sir? No reason to offend a soldier and smuggler."
"Smuggler? I believe it, given your landing. What are the specs of the ship?"
"The Obsidian is a typical mid-size smuggler ship this side of the universe, Sir. Twin engines, thousand-ton cargo hold. Niners' manufacturing."
"How fast, traveling sub-light?"
"It beats anything short of a one-seat bullet, Sir."
Teg shook his head. He had never heard of such a ship. "Armament?"
"None. It is cloaked against direct optical contact. This is a ship to escape in, not to fight your way through, Sir."
"And yet this ship..."
"... could have packed enough sub-light weaponry to take on a small frigate, Sir. None of which you will find on the Obsidian, Sir."
"Why?"
"We knew Bene Gesserit ships would equip advanced weapons scanners. If I am sending a greetings card to an old friend, I don't want him to think I can obliterate his belongings. Speed is the point of a smuggler ship."
"Its design reminds me of the 'Mouse'. Have you ever flown one?"
"The MK65 Mouse? Ancient, Sir, but yes. Used to be a smugglers' equipment of choice decades ago. It is smaller than the Obsidian and, unfortunately, cannot fly as fast." He paused, before adding, "Of course, it does not have my crew. And yet..."
"And yet?"
"It's the finest flying feeling in the universe. Controls and speed are fairly close to the Obsidian, all things considered."
"I escaped in a Mouse one time."
"Recently?" asked the captain, unbelieving.
"A few decades ago."
The captain whistled, impressed. "Amazed you made it with all your bones intact. How did the shields cope against modern weapons?"
"I never found out. I hid in the shadow of a nearby satellite while a decoy lured my captors away." Teg raised a finger. "Ancient; so ancient my enemy failed to remember the Mouse was an experimental model for camouflaging on rocky satellites."
"Does not ring a bell with me. Wish I had remembered that myself."
"Remember, captain. The right pilot and the right equipment, and you can outrun any ship in the galaxy. My men," Teg's tone grew serious, "found spice samples in the Obsidian."
The captain opened his eyes wide: "Ha, not an easy task, finding that spice, Sir! We concealed it right inside the navigation circuitry."
"Why hide it from us?"
"From you? It was just in case it fell into untrusting hands."
"Is the capsule still working?" Teg asked, waiting for the captain's nod before continuing. "Is there spice where you come from?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"The designs for spice-making tanks are in a chip under my toenail, Sir."
Once again, Teg's awareness was kicked up a level into a chessboard with cosmic moves at play, but he could not understand the game.
"In case Chapterhouse needed them, Sir," the captain added.
With a grim smile, the Bashar asked: "Do you know what a tank looks like, captain?"
"No, Sir."
"Do you know what spice is?"
"That's the legendary staff alright, Sir. Delphyne is brimming with the blue thing now."
"Never heard of Delphyne. So," Teg looked up at the captain twice his height. "What friends who know me would care to bring such nice gifts?"
"Sir, the child prodigy sent me; Miles Teg, security lieutenant of the Delphyne Entente, Sir. He reports Duncan Idaho, Sheeana Brugh, and all the others are alive and well."
Teg's expression froze. I play chess, and on the other side of the board, there is me!
"And the Bene Gesserit is not supposed to know."
"The Bashar preferred to leave the decision in your hands, Sir. Hence the interferometer."
Teg relaxed, falling on the chair he had chosen not to use until now. "Tell me about... the other me on Delphyne."
"Unreal military instructor. He is a force to be reckoned with. Upgraded the planet's security forces and that was before we modernized our equipment."
"And the spice?"
"The tanks are working. He asked me to tell you the spice is a well kept secret. Affords us some useful gadgets from the Niners."
"Didn't Miles Teg the child prodigy ask you to verify my identity before spilling all these secrets, captain Xero?"
"The capsule recognized your DNA, Sir. As I said, it is a very thorough device."
So Miles Teg knew he was not alone in the universe now; in the sense that there was another of him, casting a long shadow somewhere in the Scattering. Curiosity told him it would be amazing to meet his doppelganger and compare notes one day. If both survived, that was.
"By what purpose did the child prodigy send you?"
"A sample of the Niners' technology will help the Bene Gesserit keep an edge. And the spice tank designs, just in case, he said, 'Scytale remained difficult to work with', Sir."
"And the price of this bargain?" Teg asked. He would bargain with himself, surely.
"He intends to learn anything he can, quote, 'about the enemy with many faces'. He wishes to open a regular channel of communication."
"And is he offering a way of escaping?"
"Would you want to leave with us, Sir?"
"No."
"Yeah, he mentioned you would say that. That's what he said next: Tell the Bashar he should welcome you captain as an old-timer he sent on a trade mission before the attack on Junction. It should be simple to do so, provided he is still the Bashar in charge and the Bene Gesserit still keep special missions off-the-books, as they leave no trace in the Archives. Bellonda does not need to know."
"That's correct. I will ask one more thing before we proceed..."
"He mentioned you would ask for definitive proof that this all comes from Miles Teg."
"Precisely my thought."
"After all, this could be an enemy posing as Miles Teg. Torture still works."
"Yes. So what do you have to offer?"
"He said, the Bashar will ask you a question from your experience, and you will answer it truthfully."
It was not prescience that hit him, but Mentat faculties composing a pattern so fast that for a moment Miles Teg thought to have touched Muad'Dib's far-seeing gift.
Not a question about a memory. Probes can replicate memories.
Not a plan, not a wish. Not something I have said.
An opinion we could both agree on?
"What question will you ask of me, Bashar?" said the captain. It didn't escape Teg this captain and smuggler had spoken with the casual tone of a trained killer.
The person I am a clone of hid some unique information in plain sight in this Xero.
"How many questions?"
"Only one. Miles Teg said to trust your instincts."
In a game of riddles, of cosmic chess, his mirror image had challenged him to guess what he (the mirror) had guessed he (the Bashar) would guess.
"You now look so serious, Bashar."
A secret in a secret in a secret.
Teg shook his head. Secrets are not safe to give to middlemen. Unless...
So serious.
"Your Miles Teg is good, I give him that. He is, in fact, nothing short of incredible," the Bashar said.
"We call him 'child prodigy' for a reason, Sir."
"Yet he is not a saint, is he? He can also be quite vain, right? I know a thing or two about that."
"I have seen him boast, Sir. With due respect, of course."
A secret so unbelievable it could be safely delivered as a joke.
"What is the most ridiculous thing he boasts openly about with recruits?" the Bashar asked.
"Many things, Sir. He boasts he is the fastest no-ship pilot your side of the universe."
"Not that ridiculous. What else?"
"He says he can move so fast he could have you down on the mat before you blinked an eye. I saw that happen, Sir, it was not a blink but he surely moves impossibly fast in that boy's body."
"I said 'most ridiculous'. Get to it, captain Xero."
"Well, ahem, he says, Sir," and the captain looked down self-consciously, "and that's only after boys loosen up at the bar after training. He said once we should stay calm and steady in case of an attack, because he is so smart he would see the enemy's no-ships in Delphyne's space, and we would just shoot them out of the sky and go back to party alright." He half laughed.
Teg forced himself to laugh in response. "Oh Captain, you humble me. That's something only a vainer me would do. So let me tell you something about this prodigy. There was a time a young cadet named Miles Teg fell desperately in love with a Suk doctor. She had long flowing hair, warm auburn skin and a voice soft like a harp's. It was... a type of love that feeds on visions from afar. So, this Miles Teg faked all sorts of illnesses to meet her everyday. He went to the infirmary everyday without a shred of courage to say much more than a few trivial words to her. Miranda was her name. He was obsessed. Then one day, he went again to the infirmary to cure a fake insomnia and overheard Miranda mocking him with a colleague behind the door. Laughing at... myself... she opened the door to the waiting room. Cadet Miles Teg was gone of course. His masculinity threatened, the future leader of men escaped with his tail between his legs. He fled! Remind him of that the next time he boasts!"