Janus

The hardest thing to fathom about the mind of the Beast was the way that space inside was, or more precisely was not, connected to the physical world. Janus had at first assumed that the silver lines far “below” were something like a map of the Beast’s bodies in physical reality. When he’d investigated, however, it had proven considerably more complex. The threads were a network, reflecting in their topology the timing and manner in which new bodies had been added. But they also changed over time, as the bodies moved. It was a fascinating puzzle.

It was not that Janus was immune to the confusion and introspection that might normally be expected from someone who had discovered he was now, at best, a disembodied mind. He was only human, after all, or at least had been. But he went through the introspection and despair with the quick efficiency he expected of himself in everything and got them over with so he could move on with making what he could out of the situation.

Step one had been convincing the Beast that he could be of some use as an independent personality, both for obvious reasons of self-​preservation and because it might provide useful avenues in the future. Janus had done this almost automatically, once he’d fully appreciated the circumstances that had been thrust on him. It even made sense, from the Beast’s point of view. Its mind was vast, but still in an important sense singular—​it could pay attention to only one thing at a time.

At the moment, its focus was in the north, dedicated to the pursuit of Winter Ihernglass. Her use of Infernivore to destroy one of its bodies had reminded the demon of its vulnerability, and if it had been human Janus would have described it as enraged. All across northern Murnsk, red-​eyes were on the move, converging slowly on Winter and her small band of fugitives. It would take time to gather enough bodies for an assault, especially considering the capabilities of Winter’s companions.

This left the Beast caught between two fires. The range at which it could control its bodies was increasing, but it still had limits. Its core, the body that had once belonged to Jane Verity, had to shift farther and farther south to retain control of the red-​eyes with Janus’ army, including Janus’ own body. A battalion of bodies guarded the core, bringing it a constant stream of fresh subjects to convert, but sooner or later the Beast was going to have to decide between the war in the south and its pursuit in the north.

If Winter was killed, or the Beast gave up the chase, it would be able to devote its full attention to the south. Once the core came close enough, the red-​eyes would be unleashed on the densely populated Vordanai countryside, enslaving everyone they could reach. That was to be avoided, if possible. For the moment, Janus was satisfied with his progress—​by convincing the Beast to use his own body as a figurehead, he had advanced its timetable for the southern war and brought about this split. I need to take advantage of it while it lasts.

He was looking for something—​if looking was a word that applied to a disembodied mind wandering an entirely metaphorical space—​the echo of a voice. He’d “heard” it before, briefly, but the Beast’s attention had been on him and he hadn’t been in a position to investigate. Now he crossed and recrossed the area in which he’d been hovering, hunting for the elusive sound. Just finding the “same” place had been an extremely nontrivial exercise, but now he was sure he had it right. Consider how fast the threads readjusted, expand the search radius, keep moving—

Got it. Down at the very edge of hearing, a woman’s voice. Different, somehow, from the non-​sound by which the minds in here communicated—​real sound, coming in from the outside. He moved in circles, following it when it got louder, homing in on the source.

“...don’t think that’s possible.” He recognized the speaker. “You know that...”

It faded into unintelligibility, still barely audible. Janus cast about for the source of the sound. He found another mind, visible in the mindscape of the Beast as a tiny whirl of cloud and movement, like a miniature storm. It was smaller than himself, and felt incomplete, as though it were only a part of a whole person. But—​unlike every other mind he’d encountered here—​it had some kind of connection, visible as a hair-​thin thread of brilliant crimson, snaking away into the depths of non-​space.

He’d made a good guess about what that connection might be. Now, examining the mind, he could see that guess had been right. But can I use it?

Manipulating other minds, here in the mindscape, was a matter of exerting pure will. This was a quality that Janus had never lacked, which probably explained his continued survival. He pushed his attention into the smaller mind and found it composed of a chaotic whirl of thoughts and impressions. At the center, that familiar voice. Janus grabbed hold of the connection, twisted it into reverse. He could feel something happen at the other end.

“If you’re there,” he said, pushing his words down the link like a memory of human speech, “please answer quickly. I don’t think I have long.”

“...who is speaking?” Very faint, but understandable.

“This is Janus bet Vhalnich, and there isn’t time to explain everything—”

*

Later, Janus approached the enormous, black-​walled hurricane that was the primary personality of the Beast. It was still directing its bodies in their pursuit of Winter, though Janus could see at a glance that it would be some time before an assault was practicable. She’ll get through. He had every confidence in Winter.

“Vhalnich.” The mental voice was similar to the Beast’s, but not quite the same. More feminine, more singular, where the Beast was a choral roar of many blended into one. “Still fighting the inevitable.”

“Jane Verity,” Janus said. “I thought you had long ago been subsumed.”

“I think I have.” There was no visible structure to her mind separate from the Beast itself. Just one whirling cloud among a hurricane. “But I kept a little of myself apart. Just to enjoy this.”

“Hunting Winter?”

“No. Seeing you trapped at last.” Jane’s voice was bitter. “It won’t be long. Winter will join me, and we can finally be free. Free of the world. Free of you. How does it feel, monster?”

“One of us is a monster,” Janus said. “I invite you to consider which.”

Jane fell silent as the Beast’s primary attention shifted, noticing Janus’ presence. The hurricane bulged and spun, producing a pull on Janus’ mind-​stuff he could feel like a strong wind.

“You venture close, for one who wants to remain whole,” the Beast said.

“I had a thought,” Janus said. “I have been observing the progress of the army accompanying my former body, and I can’t help but notice it is decidedly unsatisfactory. From your point of view, of course.”

“Winter is more important. I have time to deal with Vordan and the Names.”

“Of course. But Vordan will have dispatched an army to intercept, and Marcus d’Ivoire will be with it. He is a fine soldier, and without strong leadership he might well be successful. That would delay our project considerably.”

“Our project, is it?”

Janus would have shrugged, if he’d had shoulders. “My existence is contingent on your continued pleasure. All of your projects are by definition mine as well.”

“I cannot leave Winter to escape.”

“I know. Hence my suggestion—​allow me to control my former body, and the others with the army. Those yet to be converted will be expecting ‘Janus’ to issue commands.”

“None of the other minds have attempted to control a body.” The Beast sounded fascinated. “You can do it?”

“I believe so. I have studied the mechanism. I would not proceed without your permission, of course.”

“That could be useful.” The Beast had every bit of knowledge and skill of all of its continuants, and it could see the advantages immediately. For all that it was in some ways limited, it was still terrifyingly capable. “But I cannot help but think you find some advantage for yourself.”

“What advantage could I gain, in here?”

“Misplaced loyalty to former friends, perhaps?” The Beast’s voice was a roar. “I should tear you apart and find out.”

“You can do so, of course. But then I will be unable to assist.”

There was a long pause.

“Go,” the Beast said. “If you can. But I will be watching.”