Chapter 3: Ava

Ava had a communication problem.

Refugees from the old neurology worlds will tell you that communication requires three things. A cortex. A large number of neurones within that cortex. A large number of neurones within that cortex that speak to each other.

Ava met the cortex test.

Two out of three ain’t bad. One out of three is a disaster. Ava’s neurones barely passed the time of day with each other. Ava’s neurones were arranged in an avaricious bundle of bullying belligerence bulging out from behind eyes of crass stupidity.

Ava had a communication problem.

Ava was always hungry. Her every meal was hunted down, captured and torn apart as she wielded metaphorical axes in the killing fields which surrounded the Planet. For it was power Ava craved. As she accrued it, she grew fatter and more bloated.

It is not impossible for stupid people to become powerful. Even on Planet Psychotherapy, which prides itself on its intellectual prowess, stupid people rise to positions of influence. But Ava did not live on the Planet. Ava employed the Planet.

As the Guild of Alchemists (and Doers) became stronger and stronger, many flocked to join. No more monasteries. A quick dip into the rule books, corners cut and a ticket to gold. Well down the hierarchy, these junior alchemists sought access to visitors.

Ava the belligerent controlled a sluice gate. Opened it a little. Just a little. A few juniors took the bait, nibbled on Ava’s crumbs and were hooked. Briefly sated, Ava waited as dusk fell for bigger fish to rise.

When big M and the Chamber Crew swam past, Ava could not believe her luck. The big one. More power. A larger sluice. She licked her fat lips, grown fatter at the thought of her next meal. Stupid Ava.

The Old Cockney loved the game. Took in the big picture. Weaved, dodged, fixed. Pulled here, pushed there. There’s better bait over here Big M. Ava watched as her meal swam past into the Cockney’s net. Big M and the Chamber Crew gently landed on the beach as the Cockney reeled them in.

But Ava the belligerent is not finished. The Old Cockney needs her. The faceless bureaucrats need an image of harmony to sell to Scotty and the Naïve Banker. Ava is not finished but Ava is stupid. Plays her card too early. Too hungry, too obvious, she cannot walk away. Threatens. Bluff called. Stays put. Harmony for now.

The hunger gnaws away at Ava’s guts. No one but Ava wants the sluices to remain. The Alchemists, the faceless bureaucrats and the Old Cockney all want them to go. The Alchemists see visitors as their source of power. The bureaucrats divide and rule the powerful. The Old Cockney plays a deeper game. The game is itself the power. Ava sees the sluices as power. Poor Ava. One out of three. Her neurones passing each other by on the other side of her street. Sees only the sluices.

Ava has a communication problem.