121. Collapse Jayhawk sat huddled in a prism of silvered glass, surrounded by reflected images of her shattered selves, and tried to think of a way out. Why was she here? What had the IC-construct done to her, and why? It had torn her apart, or that was how it had felt; cut along the lines of her re-unification, perhaps, though she didn't *feel* fragmented. Perhaps that was her problem. Maybe something she needed was trapped in those mirrored walls. Or perhaps they needed something from her...she looked into Angela's wide, frightened eyes and wondered. None of them had really known what they were doing in creating her; she remembered that clearly from all four perspectives. Recalling Piebald's idea, she squirmed around awkwardly until she was lying on her back, reached out hands and feet to touch all four walls. She, too, could return to Anubis below her; but she felt certain that doing so would conceed defeat in her attempt to reach the Hawk. When the glass warmed to her touch she rejected its pull, concentrated instead on imagining the presence of the others. They were within her as well as behind the mirrors. *What do you want, Angela?* she asked the Angela-image within, and tried to imagine the answer. *Do you really want to be me? How are we going to get out of this?* The answer was clear, almost like a voice speaking, though the image made no move that didn't echo hers. *I'm terrified by what we're doing, but it doesn't matter. I do want to be you.* A flicker of self-denegration. *I made my choice, and I'm glad of it. But I don't know how we're going to get out.--I don't know why you think *I* would know anything.* She had never fully appreciated how worthless she had felt, how unfit to share Jayhawk's existance. *I value you,* she said to Angela-within. *You are strong in ways I am not, without you.* She felt a brief touch through the cold glass, almost a caress. The voice within was silent. Jayhawk turned her attention to Piebald. *What do you want? Are you content?* His answer, distracted as always: *I still think it has something to do with the corners. Or possibly the point. Did you notice how it rocked when we hit it? It's not very sturdy.* She chuckled softly. She wouldn't get a straight answer out of Piebald, any more than she ever had; but she understood why, now, and she felt sure of him. She asked the same questions of Caroline-within, received a sharp and passionate answer: *I want to be you; I always have. This is a test of some kind; a test to trap Aliantha, I think, or any of the others who walked her path, split themselves into hating fragments, sacrificed themselves for power. We're not like that.* Feverish impatience washed over her. *I want to do this, I want to prove I can, I want to see *him* whole. I want to be whole myself. It's up to you. Do you accept me?* *Of course,* she whispered to that fierce demand. Jay last. The glass was cold, cold to her touch, and the voice within even colder. *Do you realize what you're doing? You will sacrifice us to him so that he can live; but we will die. I could have lived forever. I still want to.* A desperate whisper. *I can't live without you; I can't master Anubis on my own, it will destroy me. But you'll kill us. Why do you want to save him? Why is it worth this?* Jay already knew her answers. There was no reply she could make. *I hope to survive,* she said at last. *I can only hope. You have the power to deny me, if you choose.* Soft, bitter laughter. *'I accept your embrace, and surrender to you my life, my strength, my power.' I do. We will die for his glory; perhaps it's fate, perhaps there was never any way out once we saw him. I only wish....* Grief washed over her, stinging like salt. *Anubis!* Jayhawk curled in on herself, away from the cold walls, though she could not silence the voices within. Her eyes met Angela's, grieving and guilty; involuntarily she pulled away, rocked the whole pyramid with her movements. A Piebald idea caught her. She leaned forward, rocked back hard, and with a huge crash the pyramid toppled, tumbling her awkwardly onto the new floor. She disentangled herself with an effort, found that the shape had changed as well; she was looking down at Piebald now through a square prism, the pyramid's new base, and at Anubis, Jay, Caroline and Angela through the sides. She reached out to brush the mirror that contained Anubis, felt its touch, sure and steady. There was no division there, no need to ask consent. But below her...she stared down at Piebald, gripped by understanding. She could pass through, but she would *become* Piebald, making that image real, herself unreal. She shook her head, watched his bells echo silently. Wait! The pyramid was arranged the wrong way, that was the problem. *She* needed to be on the bottom. She tipped the pyramid again so that Anubis was below, considered her watching reflections. It seemed to her that it was Piebald's idea, so it would be only fair to let Piebald implement it. She pressed her hands against the glass of his window, felt a quick warming, *here* and *there* at once-- Jingling with excitement, Piebald levered himself around until he could bring the pyramid toppling down onto the Jayhawk-mirror, then considered the situation. From his perspective she was hanging upside-down, peering at him between her crossed legs. If he dove in there, he'd fall headfirst into the point of the pyramid--ouch! But it seemed silly to be right side up when she was upside down. They might not fit together properly. Walking his feet up the sides of the pyramid, he managed to stand on his head. The glass melted beneath him, a brief dizzying fall-- Jayhawk drew in a deep breath, feeling the world steady around her. She wasn't sure whether she'd changed or not; but one of the mirrored walls reflected her, the Hawk's mark crimson on her forehead. She twisted around, reached out to Angela. Angela rocked back and forth, trying to topple the pyramid without risking breaking it--she was sure that would be a terrible mistake. Finally she put her shoulder to it, fell heavily forward as it overbalanced. Jayhawk peered up at her from an awkward tangle of limbs, though not half so awkward as Angela's own. She hesitated, caught up in a whirl of emotions. She wanted to be free, wanted to share Jayhawk's power and delight, but to give herself up again....She wasn't really Angela, she knew that now, only a mechanical copy Awakened by the Overnet. But even that was something to cling to. No. Jayhawk trusted her, and she wouldn't fail that trust. She lowered her forehead to the cold glass, felt it warm, let herself fall-- There were tears on Jayhawk's face that she couldn't remember shedding. She brushed at them, turned to Caroline. An instant's hesitation, born of a doubt she couldn't explain even to herself, then she touched the glass, let herself pass through. Caroline bounced up, toppled the pyramid with a nerve-wracking crash and clatter. Jayhawk stared up from beneath her with wide doubtful eyes. It didn't have to be this way. The others hadn't really thought about that. Remaining separate or becoming part of Jayhawk weren't the only two options. She could refuse to cooperate, refuse to let things proceed, until they had no choice but to topple the pyramid over again so that *she* was at the bottom, and let all their strength and wisdom and power flow into her. "Would you do it?" she said aloud to the reflection. The walls echoed her voice, flattened and distorted. She'd be a magician, intuition whispered; and without giving up all the rest, Anubis' power, Piebald's genius, Angela's insight. She turned to look at Jay, reflection so perfect that she might have been looking at herself, except for the glitter of life-thread. A part of herself, her own creation, *hers* to re-absorb now if she chose. She remembered the acid jealousy she'd felt when Jay mastered Anubis. She remembered sitting up with Jay, that last long night of their independent existance, sharing their stories and trying to trust one another. "I won't ask that of you," she whispered. Her decision had already been made, and nothing good would come of recanting it now. Resolute and impatient, she put both palms flat against the floor, let herself fall, an instant's bright memory of flight-- One more, Jayhawk thought to herself, and looked up to see the fear reflected in her own mismatched eyes. She had no thought of backing out now; it was clearly impossible. Success or failure would be in Jay's hands--Jay, so close to the machine she loved that she could be almost infinitely patient, infinitely stubborn. She touched the cold glass, let herself pass through. And so it came down to her, with the decision already three-quarters made, irrevocably so. She *could* master Anubis and survive, Caroline had shown her the way--refuse to cooperate, refuse the merger until Jayhawk had to give in and allow her control. She wasn't sure what that would do to her. It seemed uncomfortably close to Aliantha's sacrifice of Megan. She didn't have to do that; she could return to Anubis, search for a way to retain her identity in its embrace. It might be possible. She'd been trapping the others here forever, she suspected. But she would live; even if she lost herself in Anubis' strength, she would survive. She felt the reality of Jayhawk's love for Martha, her deep-buried feelings--not love, but something dangerously close to it--for *him*; but she didn't share them. They came at least in part from loneliness; the need for companionship, understanding, contact with a kindred mind. She had no such needs, secure in Anubis. But she had known all this, in potential if not in actuality, when she accepted Caroline's embrace. She just hadn't realized the extent of the sacrifice. She didn't believe that Jayhawk could face *him* and survive, whatever the outcome; at best, she would become another of his shadows, broken and insane, a warped tool to his will. There was no reason that she could find to accept such a fate; only her love for the others, for the greater whole they formed, doomed as it was. She bowed her head, accepting the necessity, and touched the cold floor beneath her, let herself dissolve into it as if into Anubis. Unity embraced her like the memory of dissolution. With a violent lunge, Jayhawk stood up, her arms folded about her head. The pyramid shattered at her touch, falling in liquid fragments around her like a spray of mercury. It was easy, now that she knew how. She shook herself, unfolded to her full height, and looked around. Walls of rough wood towered around her, except to the left where they were obscured by the curving side of a vast white structure, smooth as stone and without doors or windows of any kind. She blinked, and suddenly the scene leaped into perspective; she was at the bottom of the great nest, beside the egg, and she was the size of an insect by comparison. She looked up, eyes struggling with the scale of things, and saw the Hawk perched on the edge of the nest, looking down at her. -- Copyright 1992 Mary K. Kuhner