by Gadi Migdal
“Certainly, I apologize again for my choice of words before, Nola. What I meant to say was that you would surely be able to understand the egg-layers’ council better than us,” explained the head of the council with a broad smile.
Nola did not attempt to smile and gave her a frosty look. The egg-layers’ council called itself ‘the Whole’? ‘Was that what the General meant when she said that the Whole wanted me alive?’ she wondered to herself. How was such a council even possible? The coordinator within her took over.
“You claim that the egg-layers have the ability to communicate with one another?”
“Yes Nola. We don’t know how, but definitely — yes.”
An egg-layers’ council represented all of the clusters? Was that possible?
“If the egg-layers are so organized why do they need a coordinator?” Nola demanded.
“It is not certain that they currently need you.”
Nola raised an astonished eyebrow, and the head of the council stopped her with a polite hand gesture, “We don’t know when this ability developed amongst the egg-layers, perhaps only hundreds of years after the signing of the covenant. Probably in the past you were more important to them. Apart from that, we suppose that these days, you coordinators, make it easier for them with their ongoing work.”
“How, exactly?” asked Nola.
“As you know, the coordinators’ implant isn’t just a pheromone-transmitter with a brain interface. It also gives you exceptional memory and calculation abilities. By our estimation, that is the reason that coordinators are essential for the clusters. They enable the egg-layers to devote resources for long-term planning and establishing contact with one another, and not just dealing with the ongoing management of the clusters.”
“So, what you’re saying is that the egg-layers possess higher intelligence and they are simply exploiting the coordinators in order to give themselves time to converse with one another?” Nola asked in a doubtful voice.
“That is what we suspect, yes,” the head of the council answered quietly.
Nola’s frustration grew ever more. This was ridiculous; the she-slave would never have been able to hide something like this from her. She forced herself to remain focused on the conversation.
“Have you consulted with other people outside of the council?” she asked.
The head of the council shook her head. “No. If the information were to leak outside of the council, there would be a terrible uproar.”
“Uproar?” Nola repeated after her.
“A huge commotion. In fact, I would guess that it would be the end of the city.”
“Why would that cause a commotion? After all, the city residents are used to sending their daughters to the clusters, why would the existence of an egg-layers’ council change anything?”
The head of the council shook her head. “There’s a difference, Nola. A huge difference. It’s one thing to send your daughter to manage clusters of tens of millions of items to fulfill a vital role for the future of the city. It’s another thing entirely to send her to carry out unnecessary tasks for a council of intelligent aliens. Exposure of such a thing would make the covenant collapse. It would dismantle the city.”
Nola massaged her left temple. Her headache had grown worse. She considered what the head of the council had said. “I didn’t know that the egg-layers were able to speak. That is an impressive achievement, truly, but it still doesn’t mean a thing. How do you know that such a council exists? Maybe it is just a sophisticated hoax?”
A hearty laugh suddenly came from the end of the table. This laugh was a human laugh, a warm laugh, not the weird laugh of General Bud. Nola looked at the elderly man who laughed, there was something familiar about him. She looked at him thoroughly.
“You were the head of the council when I left,” she said.
“That’s right, my dear,” he smiled at the head of the council. “I told you that I remembered a clever girl, Mika.”
The head of the council smiled back at him, “It seems you were correct, Grant. That’s right, Nola, that was our first suspicion, as well. That was why we demanded that the egg-layer prove that she indeed spoke on behalf of all the clusters.”
Grant laughed again, “Most unfortunately, she provided such evidence. All of the clusters destroyed all deliveries and stopped supplying us with goods for precisely one full week. The city lost a good deal of money that week.”
“An entire week? Two years ago?” Nola was surprised. “I remember that week, the gatherers went wild and destroyed full shipments, they insisted that they were contaminated with diseases. And all the pollinators and the weeders refused to go near the gardens. It took me a week to manage to calm down all the farmers and bring back order.”
“I hate to disappoint you, my dear, but it wasn’t you that imposed order, it was your egg-layer who controlled them,” Grant noted, smiling.
The she-slave controlled her cluster members? Nola stared skeptically at Grant and didn’t try to answer him.
“After a week, the same egg-layer returned to us and presented the council with the demands of the council of the Whole,” the head of council went on.
Throbbing pain pulsed in Nola’s temples. She had to focus on what was being said.
“And what were the demands of the Whole?”
The head of the council paused for a moment and looked at the rest of the council members. Nola again saw the hesitation in her response.
“The Whole wants a new swarming, and they demand that you be the one to carry it out.”
A swarming? That was a surprising response.
The establishment of a new cluster was a rare event. The city decided when there was need of a new cluster, and the clusters would decide which existing cluster the egg-layer would come from, as well as which clusters would send males, workers, farmers and guards. As far as Nola knew, the clusters had never decided on the establishment of a new cluster on their own, and had never requested an active coordinator. For a new cluster, a new coordinator was chosen.
“How does one carry out a swarming? I thought there was no available fertile territory left,” she asked the head of the council.
“You are right, Nola, there is no more vacant space on Neifar. That is why the Whole wants to establish a cluster outside of Neifar.”
Nola recoiled. “Outside of Neifar? What? Where?”
“I don’t know. The egg-layer wouldn’t tell us. She simply demanded that we aid the Whole in carrying it out. In fact, the egg-layers’ council demanded that we finance the construction of the largest and most expensive spaceship in our history - as large as a hotel and ten times more expensive. Luckily, the city is rich enough to fund such a project.”
“Why would the city give in to the demands of the Whole? You could simply refuse.”
“No, Nola, we can’t. The city will not survive without the clusters. The egg-layer made it clear that failure to meet their demands will lead to immediate and complete cessation of production among all of the clusters.”
Nola stared at the table before her and tried to focus. A glass of water was placed in front of her, and she emptied it in one gulp. Her throat hurt. She had virtually not spoken in years. Her communication with the cluster members was done through the implant.
Why would the egg-layers send her out of Neifar?
“When will the ship be ready?” she asked.
“It is already complete and waiting on the route around Neifar. We had to spend a fair amount of capital to prevent the curious building monkeys from landing on Neifar during construction, but you knew we never allow outside visitors to land.”
Nola closed her eyes and tried to focus. So, all of the egg-layers were members of a secret council? How could she have not heard a thing about it over the course of twenty-two years?
“You sent a new coordinator, an eleven-year-ol
d girl, to my cluster even though you already knew that they are exploiting her?” she asked the head of the council with a sudden realization.
The head of the council blanched. “We had no choice, Nola.”
“There is always a choice, the question is what you choose to do about it,” Nola replied with suppressed anger.
“No, Nola. There isn’t always a choice. There are other considerations at play.”
A wave of fury exploded within Nola. “So, the girls are just sacrificed? That doesn’t disturb you? You sent the girls to serve a council of creatures that don’t really need them?” Nola felt tears welling up in her eyes and ordered herself to calm down before continuing in a more controlled voice. “When will I see my parents?” she asked.
“I am sorry Nola, but that is a problem,” answered the head of the council. She hesitated again before continuing in a plaintive voice, “Please understand, nobody can see you in the city. If anyone should discover that one of the coordinators had returned home, it would stir up major agitation. All of the families of coordinators would want to see their daughters.”
Nola forced herself to remain calm. “That’s your problem, not mine.”
The head of the council looked tired. “It is all of our problem. You also have relatives there Nola. Don’t you understand that if chaos breaks out, people will get hurt?”
Nola’s anger flared up again. “So, the city will betray me until the last moment? I am not even permitted to see my parents?” she lashed at the head of the council, tears filling her eyes.
“I am sorry. I never imagined that you would feel so betrayed,” the head of the council cried, tears coursing down her cheek. “I am so sorry, Nola. We were so caught up with the future of the city that we didn’t think of you and your sacrifice.”
A sudden serenity swallowed up Nola’s rage. She was filled with calm and resignation. Her headache disappeared. The room began to darken around her. Nola felt her body shrivel into the chair she was sitting on. The voices grew distant.
“Give her some room, she just needs to rest,” she recognized Grant’s voice. Nola chuckled before being swallowed up by the darkness.
Chapter 4
Bruce
Anna didn’t come to play anymore, but he continued to appear at the forest every day. Each day he hoped that she would be there to play catch or hide and seek with him but each day he was disappointed all over again; it was boring without Anna.
He tried to call her; the brain that managed the house answered him that she was sleeping.
He played alone between the trees, running, jumping and hiding. From time to time he would chase after small rodents running through the branches, but it wasn’t much fun to play alone. Bruce didn’t understand why everyone was sleeping all the time; sleeping wasn’t fun. He climbed back up into the robotic hovercraft and asked to return home.
At dinner he asked Adam. “Why does everyone go to sleep?”
The elderly housekeeper answered him calmly, “That’s the way it is, Mr. Bruce.”
“The way it is since when? Is it an old custom?”
“Not really, Mr. Bruce, it did not exist until a few decades ago.”
“So how did it come to be?”
The old man smiled at him gently, as he served him a plate of food, “Who knows, Mr. Bruce. Human beings tend to behave strangely sometimes.”
“But why?” Bruce insisted.
“I do not know, Mr. Bruce. Your father is supposed to wake up in two days. I suggest you ask him.”
Bruce nodded his head vigorously as he chewed, “That’s what I’ll do, Adam.”
“Chew with your mouth closed, Mr. Bruce, and sit up straight in your chair,” Adam scolded.
“Sorry, Adam,” Bruce straightened in his chair.
“That’s better,” Adam ruffled his hair with affection.
The boy turned and hugged the old man unexpectedly, “I love you Adam.”
“I know, Mr. Bruce. And I love you.”
He hated waking up. Even with his eyes closed, the light blinded him.
Jonathan opened his eyes slowly, and the dream melted away. He inhaled slowly, and the giant waves still crashed in his head. The last dream was finished but he still felt the surfboard beneath his feet. This was an excellent series of dreams; it is a shame that it was over. As soon as he was finished dealing with the merchants, he would download another series of stories from the network.
A small rustle to his right caught his attention, and he turned his head. An unfamiliar child stood there.
“Good morning, Dad.”
Who was this? Was this part of the last story?
Recognition came all at once. It was Bruce, his son. He was so big, Jonathan marveled. A broad smile spread across Jonathan’s face. Why did he sleep so much when this wonderful thing was part of his reality?
He reached a hand to pull Bruce to him, “Good morning, cutie.”
The boy took a step back and avoided the outstretched hand.
“Dad, how long will you be awake this time?”
“As long as needed to complete handling the sales transactions necessary to sustain the farm,” Jonathan replied, surprised by the boy’s response.
“Will it be more than two days this time?”
A wave of guilt flooded Jonathan. “Yes, sweetheart, I promise to be awake longer this time.”
“You promise?” Bruce insisted warily. Jonathan nodded. Bruce looked at him, accusingly. “And will you play with me while you’re awake?”
This broke his heart. “Yes, my boy, as much as I can. I promise.”
“Great,” said Bruce. Something loosened up in him, and he jumped on Jonathan. Jonathan hugged him firmly, and it felt so right. Why was he always dreaming instead of hugging his son? Bruce laughed and wriggled in his father’s arms as he tickled him.
“Stop dad,” he pleaded, choking with laughter. “I’m not a baby anymore.”
Jonathan looked at him. He certainly was no longer a baby.
“You’re already seven, Bruce. How does time fly so fast?”
“Because you’re always sleeping, dad,” the boy answered seriously.
Jonathan felt another pang of guilt pierce his chest. He looked at the time counter on the screen beside him. He had been sleeping for eight months. He spent his life dreaming, and his son was being raised by Adam and a fleet of robots.
He let go of the boy and sat up in bed. The medical unit did excellent work. His muscles felt refreshed and energized.
“I’ll tell you what. This time I will stay awake for two weeks. I have a few calls to make today and tomorrow, but the rest of the time I will be at your disposal, for as much playing as you want.”
Bruce’s face brightened with a happy smile, “Thank you, Dad! Oh, fun! Did you know that Anna also went to sleep and doesn’t play with me anymore?”
Tim’s daughter? Jonathan wondered to himself. She already went to sleep? She is just Bruce’s age.
“That means more time for me to play with you.” He stroked the boy’s hair with delight.
“Dad, will mom get up too?” The boy asked, hopefully.
Jonathan hadn’t seen her since she had given birth to Bruce and given him to Adam to look after. The thought of being awake with Tammy made him shiver. “Maybe later, sweetie.”
“Fine, dad,” the boy answered and hugged him again. The hug felt so right while the dreams, which were always so lucid and clear, suddenly seemed distant and stupid. Jonathan squeezed the little body against him and hugged him tightly. The boy needed human company. It wasn’t fair of him to spend Bruce’s childhood sleeping.
He wiped the tears from his eyes before releasing his grip on Bruce. “Please go and tell Adam that I am awake. Ask him to come here and help me get organized. I will speak with you later,” he told the excited child.
&nbs
p; “Okay, Dad.” Bruce hastened toward the door. But before exiting, he stopped short and turned to him. “Dad, why does everybody sleep all the time?”
Jonathan felt the air leave his body all at once. “It’s complicated, Bruce. I will explain it to you another time,” he mumbled.
“Alright, Dad.”
The boy ran out. Jonathan heard him shout happily in the corridor, “Adam, Dad is awake, and wants to see you.”
Jonathan looked at the screen in front of him, and despite the fatigue, he forced himself to smile at the merchant dog. The first night after dreaming was always the hardest. The fog nightmares returned to him.
The merchant suggested a ridiculous price for the delivery. Jonathan spent over an hour bargaining with him until they agreed on a price that was acceptable to both of them. Maybe he should buy an enhanced merchant dog too? It would save him from having to be awake for so many hours.
“No!” He scolded himself. It was good that he had to wake up every now and then. At least this way he saw Bruce occasionally and spent some time with him. He sat back in his chair, exhausted by the negotiations, and Adam brought him a fresh glass of orange juice. He sipped from his glass with pleasure, enjoying the taste of real juice squeezed from Neifar oranges, not a printed imitation. He savored the flavor. Life was good for those who could afford it.
“Thanks. Adam,” he dismissed the housekeeper.
Jonathan ordered the robots to move the timber shipments to the landing pad. The merchant would send a robotic spaceship to collect them within a day. There was a great demand for real trees. They were needed as raw material for luxury furniture manufacturers and for the filling racks of the industrial condensers. It was fortunate that his ancestors had settled in a forested world. A small movement drew his attention; Adam was still standing in the room.
Jonathan smiled at him, “Did you want to speak with me, Adam?”
The old man smiled hesitantly, “I hope that you won’t think this is insolent of me, sir, but I wanted to speak to you about Bruce.”
