by Steve White
Her small tendrils rippled calm reassurance that no offense had been taken. “I am aware of that, Lieutenant. I have heard that epithet in the mouths of those who mean it. I can quite easily distinguish those expressions of genuine hatred from your simple recounting of their speech.” Her eyes closed momentarily. “However, Jennifer is correct when she suggests that you are misunderstanding the Destoshaz-as-sulhaji radicals if you believe that they would stoop to criminality for profit—even to fund their activities. That is not their way. They are reminiscent of the truest exemplars of your ancient orders of knighthood, or holy warriors. Regardless of those sects’ different origins and objectives, all shared certain traits: myopic worldview; intolerance for other opinions; fanatical conviction that their personal involvement was the direct will of deity; and utter depersonalization of their foes. In sum, these traits ensured that they could carry out genocidal massacres without believing them to be moral outrages.
“The Destoshaz-as-sulhaji evince all these traits, to the point where they consider those Arduans who do not share their beliefs to be heretical enemies of the true and pure will of Illudor, who lives through our reincarnated souls just as a body depends upon the cells which comprise it. So you may be certain that the Destoshaz radicals would consider any mutually profitable cooperation with humans to be an affront to the purity of their mission and the will of Illudor.”
Magee nodded. “That’s also perfectly consistent with the way the opposition has been burning all the criminals who’ve serviced their intel pipeline—all of whom are human criminals, I might add.”
Ossian nodded. “It’s not decisive evidence on its own, but if this is a Destoshaz-as-sulhaji plot, you can bet they’d consider that killing two birds with one stone. They keep their intelligence trail minimal while also killing off the humans who’ve been servicing it. There’s a gruesome elegance to the strategy.”
“It also reflects their moral disdain for your species,” Ankaht said quietly. “They consider lying or race-treachery as repellent—even among non-Arduans. If you consider that the human criminals they have employed evince both those characteristics—”
Harry Li nodded. “Why, they’re just doing the good Lord’s work by putting down the very worst of us furry human scum.”
Ankaht closed her eyes. “I am afraid that might be exactly how they would see their actions, yes.”
Jen’s brow had remained furrowed. “You know, there’s one thing I don’t get. If the data in the couriers is being copied, then whoever does the copying would have to have another selnarmic data core to transfer it to, correct?”
“Correct, Jennifer. Selnarmic data, as you call it, cannot be digitalized without a tremendous loss of fidelity. Consequently, the cores in our couriers are not digital, nor can they interface with such a format.”
Magee folded his arms, leaned against the door jamb. “How is selnarmic data archived, then?”
Ankaht’s clusters interlaced, wriggled a bit. “The data cannot be archived, not as you mean it, because it must remain dynamic.” She fretted her smaller tendrils. “I cannot explain it well in your words, probably because I have not yet been tasked to do so. Perhaps, Ossian, you would be kind enough—?”
Ossian tried to keep from grimacing. “I’m no theoretical physicist, but I’ll try. Selnarmic information is fundamentally quantum manipulation. That’s why it’s instantaneous.”
“Which is what makes the selnarmic couriers so valuable,” put in Magee. “One of them pops into a system, sends its selnarmic message to another one waiting to exit through a different warp point at the other end of the system, and bang—instantaneous message transmission. Beforehand, it took hours or even days waiting for radio or lascom relays to reach a conventional courier—if one happened to be standing-by on the opposite side of the heliopause. Now, priority transmissions can travel from one end of known space to the other in a matter of one or two days, if there’s an unbroken string of selnarmic couriers in place.”
“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Harry. “Shut up and let the captain get back to the nuts and bolts, will ya?”
Ossian smiled. “So, in order to keep selnarmic information truly intact, you can’t convert it into ones and zeros. It medium is a real-time matrix of subparticulate patterns that cannot be turned into a sequence. You can’t break it down, not even for the purposes of building it back up, because part of the information it carries is resident in the matrix of quantum uncertainty factors embedded in it.” Seeing the look on Harry’s face, he tried a different approach: “You pull one thread and the whole ball of yarn comes unraveled before you can make a map of it. So there’s no way to look at it in parts; it’s all or nothing. Observer effect creeps into the explanation somewhere, but that’s where the connection between theory and application broke apart for me.
“Suffice it to say that you have to create a kind of sustained field-effect in which to store selnarmic data packages. That’s what the selnarmic data core does. It creates and sustains a kind of extensive subatomic honeycomb of those fields. That’s why it’s got a self-contained long-duration power source and why tapping the core is a delicate business that can only be conducted by a person—or device—that can access it with an extension of their own selnarm.” He turned to Ankaht, wondered if he was sweating from the effort of rendering a coherent explanation. “Is that relatively accurate?”
“Far better than I could have achieved.” Her voice sounded as if she was “speaking” through a smile.
Li was still frowning. “So exchanging selnarm doesn’t involve some kind of…eh, micro-telekinesis?” He wound up grinning at how improbable that explanation sounded, even in his own ears.
Ankaht’s clusters rippled with mirth. “No. If Arduans were telekinetic, imagine what we could have accomplished in battle. When engaging your fleets, we could have thrown any switch, disconnected any wires, disrupted any magnetic bottle. Your early analysis of our systems misidentified selnarm-operated switches as telekinetically operated because they missed a key detail: the switches were connected to a selnarmic receiver. Our selnarmic orders went to that receiver, which then sent a standard electric current to activate the switch. Rather like one of your solenoids. Selnarm itself can only be used to exchange information, nothing else.”
Jennifer rubbed her chin. “You know, I never thought about it before, but how did you ever discover how selnarm works, or that it’s a dynamic matrix that exists at the quantum level?”
Ankaht nodded stiffly. “It was a relatively late discovery in the history of our people. Only after the theories of Myrtak—our equivalent of your Einstein—were accepted was there even a way to investigate the physics of the phenomenon. Which, I remind you, we still do not fully understand on the mechanistic level. We have complete control of its utilization, but exactly what occurs in those tiny field effects is still a matter of conjecture. Only two centuries before our exodus from Ardu began, scientists observed that the simplest forms of life that utilized what we call protoselnarm experienced minute changes of energy when undertaking coordinated activities. Ultimately, our technologists learned how to create the fields similar to those they discovered in those microorganisms.”
Magee straightened up, put his arm around Jennifer: the movement was subtly prefatory to leave-taking. “So what did you learn from the selnarmic core we found on Metifilli while we went hunting for more bad guys in the Surzan system? Were our opponents grabbing the selnarmic info, or were they after the human, digitalized data? Or was data-tapping just a play act, a stalking horse to steer us away from encrypted messages they’ve hidden within the data or even the programming itself?”
Ankaht became still. “We cannot say, Captain Magee.”
“You haven’t found anything yet?”
Jen put a hand on his arm. “I think—that’s not what Ankaht means, ’Sandro.” Magee looked genuinely perplexed.
But Harry Li frowned. “No, it’s not what Ankaht means. She saying that she won’t tell us. Isn’t
that right, ma’am?”
Ankaht’s clusters and limbs went through a slow, listless undulation: one of several Arduan versions of an uncomfortable human shrug. She raised one fitful cluster —
“More accurately, she can’t tell you, Lieutenant,” Ossian cut in. “And it’s not her doing.”
Li’s eyes were wide. “It’s yours—sir?”
“You vastly overestimate my place on the command food chain, Lieutenant. And you’d better remember to include a bare minimum of respect in your tone, as well, mister.”
Li blinked in response to Wethermere’s stare. “I’m—I’m sorry, sir.”
“To answer your question, Lieutenant, we’ve entered a new phase of this operation, which triggers a number of predetermined security contingencies. One of which is a reshuffling of clearance levels. I’m sorry, but at this point, the confidentiality firewall shifts higher up the table of organization. That’s as per orders cut jointly by the PSU, the Rim Federation, and our Arduan allies. So if you have any disagreements you’d like to air, I suggest you address a message to Admiral Ian Trevayne. He’s the person at the top of this particular intel pyramid.” Although I suspect he confabbed with my great-cousin thrice removed Kevin Sanders before he signed off on the counterintelligence protocols.
Harry Li had become noticeably pale. “I, uh, I won’t be sending any messages to the admiral, sir.”
“Excellent. He’s a busy man. He rarely has time to consider unsolicited advice from Marine lieutenants barely a third his age.”
“Yes, sir. Are we dismissed?”
“Nothing so formal as that, Lieutenant Li. I just wanted you all to drop by today so you get a look at what was happening as we wrap up this stage of the operation.” Ossian sent a glance that he tried to invest with an apologetic quality toward ’Sandro and Jennifer. “I suspect ninety percent of the new security precautions are totally unnecessary, but we’re entering a phase where we have to control information flow with absolute surety and precision.” Because now we get to the part where we have to start examining the possibility of moles and intel breaches within our own organizations, damn it.
Magee straightened into a posture just one shade less formal than attention. “We understand, sir. Perfectly.”
“I’m grateful for that, ’Sandro. And you all have two weeks leave. Enjoy it.”
“And after that, sir?”
“More chasing down leads in startown dives and other open sewers, I’m afraid. I’ll be a few weeks late joining you, though.”
“Oo-rah, sir,” smiled Magee, who saluted, put his arm back around the shoulder of his beaming wife and left.
Harry Li followed, was half out the door, paused, turned to glance at Ankaht. “Ma’am, I’m sorry if I, well, if—”
Somehow the vocoder managed to impart the zenlike benignity of Ankaht’s reply. “You have nothing to apologize for, Lieutenant. Enjoy your holiday. I will see you soon again, I am sure.”
Harry “Lighthorse” Li’s eyes drifted down toward the floor, then he nodded and closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER SIX
Ankaht stared at the closed door for a long moment, turned to face Ossian Wethermere. For a moment she wished she had some way to signal to him the sense of hope, and even personal security, she felt whenever he was around—and then she was immediately glad she couldn’t do so. Other than those involving Jennifer, interactions with humans were so very fraught with uncertainty, so prone to misunderstanding and misinterpretation. And because Ankaht had exerted profound efforts to master their dominant language—the capricious and often contradictory polyglot tongue known as English—the humans tended to forget, or simply could not appreciate, just how alien and nerve-wracking it was for an Arduan—any Arduan—to communicate in words only.
Certainly, the vocoder did not require her to keep her communications free of selnarmic sendings: part of its job was to render those as speech acts. But actual selnarm meanings were wonderfully subtle, could be shifted in intensity or obliquity of angle, much like light. Words, on the other hand, were like brute hammers. Even when whispered, words still meant just what they meant—that, and nothing more. You could always change the amplitude of your meaning by using one of the endless array of near-synonyms, or by affixing modifiers such as “very” or “slightly,” but those were still crude adjustments when compared to the absolute precision of selnarm. And one never had to doubt that one’s intended meaning had been imparted: equally precise selnarmic reception made that a surety.
Obversely, when the vocoder converted selnarmic expressions into speech, it was much like writing a delicate poem about love and cosmology using only single syllable words rendered in capital letters. And so Ankaht had trained herself to think in words when communicating to humans. That way, the vocoder had few opportunities to attempt to approximate the nuances of selnarm by stringing together an infinitude of modifiers, which ultimately cluttered the underlying message beyond comprehension.
And so, had Ankaht succumbed to the urge to send even a simple pulse of appreciation for Ossian Wethermere—her opposite number in the bilateral effort to improve and protect relations between humans and Arduans—she could not have been certain of how the vocoder would have represented that selnarmic send. It could have emerged from the vocoder sounding like desperate relief, like a coy protestation of romantic love (unthinkable, revulsion), as if she was asserting that he was the more reliable and more authoritative of the pair of them, or something still more surreal than these alternatives. She had heard the vocoder produce some truly outré utterances in the past six years, many of them profoundly embarrassing.
Ankaht became aware that Ossian was returning her now-absentminded stare; she was fairly certain that the human word for his facial expression was “quizzical.” “Is everything all right, Ankaht?”
She fluttered her left cluster. “Most assuredly. I was simply distracted by reflections upon the challenges our races face in achieving better communications.” She glanced back at the door.
Ossian lacked Jennifer’s pseudo-selnarmic gift, but sometimes he did seem to read her mind. “You’re concerned about Harry Li?”
She dropped her cluster back to her side. “Somewhat. I must confess that even Jennifer’s husband, Alessandro, worries me.”
Wethermere folded his hands thoughtfully. “They’ve been on this detail for four years, Ankaht. Why are you concerned now?”
Ankaht lowered into a seat. “This investigation has now moved to that point where we have all but proven that the radical Destoshaz-as-sulhaji are behind the courier drone intercepts. Humans—particularly veterans of the war between our peoples—are likely to find their old suspicions reignited, and with them, their old antipathies. This is what I always feared: that, rather than deporting themselves to join the warlike Arduans in the Zarzuela system, Destoshaz zealots hidden within my community would attempt to undermine our partnership with humanity.”
“They might not be the ones who are trying to stir up trouble. It could be that the commander of your Second Dispersate, Admiral Amunsit, and her forces in Zarzuela are behind the selnarmic courier intercepts.”
Ankaht let air wheeze out through her vestigial gills: an Arduan sigh. “There is much truth in what you say, but whatever the source of the problem, its consequences remain. Indeed, I have long feared that Amunsit and her agents have suborned many, even most, of the Destoshaz who have remained with us in the Rim Federation. In which case, the courier intercepts might be a coordinated activity between confidential agents here and the intelligence officers in Amunsit’s own blockaded fleet.”
Ossian frowned, leaned back. “Again, we always knew that was a possibility.”
“A possibility, yes, but this newest information increases its likelihood.”
Ossian nodded. “True enough. And that suggests that any Destoshaz-al-sulhaji who have remained behind here on Bellerophon and other Rim Federation worlds could all be part of a remote-controlled fifth column. And you know
what that means.”
Ankaht closed all three eyes slowly. “I do. But you must allow my people to handle any sequestrations. If Arduans see humans setting up internment camps for Destoshaz—even if the Destoshaz are openly warlike and xenophobic zealots—my race’s speciate sympathies will trump common sense and necessity: they would fight you, even if they regretted doing so. No: we must sequester our brothers and sisters ourselves. It is the only way.”
“No argument, there.” Ossian stared at the door through which Harry Li had exited. “And so this is why you’re on edge about Harry and ’Sandro?”
“Yes, but no more so than I am about those of my own people who were involved in the war that followed our arrival.”
“That would be just about every Arduan, then.”
Ankaht waved one faltering, despairing tendril. “It is as you say. But Captain Magee and Lieutenant Li were so very intimately involved in that conflict. At its end, they were the leaders of the attack team that was poised to kill every member of our Council of Twenty. I fear that they could once again slip back into seeing my people as the enemy. With alarming ease.”
Ossian sat slowly, nodded. “I understand your misgivings. But Ankaht, that was six years ago. And let’s remember what those two Marines did right after they took your Council of Twenty hostage: to prove their genuine interest in negotiating, in achieving peace between our peoples, they and their whole attack group surrendered on the spot.”
Ankaht looked at the door. “Yes, but would they have done so if Jennifer had not been with them, to ensure that they followed that peaceful path?”
Ossian opened his hands, widened them as if he were going to catch a ball: a gesture of appeal among humans. “I don’t know how to answer that, Ankaht, since the only reason the whole assault group went in was to get Jennifer next to you, where you two could communicate and put an end to the conflict. If Jennifer hadn’t been there, the entire operation would never have been approved. Or conceived. Since then, both ’Sandro and Harry have worked frequently with Arduans—almost on a daily basis, since we tapped them to lead this investigation’s strike unit. You’ve seen that the two of them cooperate with your people, that they work hard not to judge, and to put aside the reflexes they learned during the war.”
