Sister Time-ARC

by John Ringo

  "I . . . read you, Clan Leader," Michelle said. "I will make that point quite plainly to the mentats. And I'm sure that the Indowy masters, when they are apprised of Erick's full actions, will make it even more plain. The issue should never arise again. In any case, you have accomplished the purposes for which I hired your team. Thank you. Now, I need to take the device back to Adenast and construct a credible story for how it got there." She raised her hand . . .

  And Cally reached out like a cobra and caught it.

  "Oh, no you don't . . ." she said, raising the rifle.

  * * *

  When Cally caught Michelle's hand, Papa O'Neal knew they were all in for it. The storm clouds were just hanging in the air. Well, it was probably best to let them get it out of their systems. It had been a real long time coming. He put his head in his hands and turned away, wiping the sweat from his face. He could smell the rust of blood, too, but that was nothing new. Their voices were so close in pitch that he could only sort out what was being said by accent and content.

  "That is a priceless archeological artifact! You will not damage it."

  "That is a fucking abomination against free will!"

  "Free will is an illusion you place far too much—"

  "The hell you say! Yours may be an illusion, but mine's working just fine."

  "This device requires close study. But it needs to be at the hands of the Wise."

  "Nobody's wise enough for that."

  "And you in your own vast wisdom are wise enough to decide that for the whole galaxy and all of its posterity?"

  "When you guys came to me to do your dirty work? You're darn tootin'. This ain't exactly rocket science, Michelle."

  "No, it is ancient Aldenata science and was developed for a very wise—"

  "Bullshit!You think you know it all don't you? The Indowy didn't make you like this; You've ALWAYS been this way! I remember how you use to try to boss me around like you were a little tin god when you were a KID . . . !"

  Papa O'Neal shook his head. That tore it. They were going nuclear. Nothing could stop them from saying it now. Best to just pour it all out. Wait till they wore down then take . . . steps. He looked around, eyes lighting on a couple of mop buckets and a faucet. Nobody else was moving. Not 'frozen in stasis', just watching the argument and waiting for Cally to get blasted. Which was good. He guessed the problem was mostly gonna fall in his lap. He spat resignedly and headed for the buckets.

  "I just knew you would do this. Don't think that just because the wise used you to—"

  "Damn right they used me. They use people a lot, if you hadn't noticed. Then kid themselves that their hands are oh so much cleaner than—"

  "Do not think they do this casually!"

  "Don't think I do!"

  "Don't you?"

  "Well, fuck you too!"

  "And this is the response of the self-proclaimed wisest person in the galaxy."

  "Just because I say it in plain English and do it mysel—"

  "Oh, that is such garbage! You are so arrogant! You, Cally O'Neal, decide who lives and who dies. Or you decide who is wise enough to decide, which is much the same thing. You—"

  "Don't you? That's exactly what you do. You learn what's basically glorified engineering and you suddenly think your shit doesn't stink. Free clue, sister, you aren't any wiser than the rest of us! And neither are the goddam Crabs. Technological advantage doesn't give them the right to play God."

  "Your 'God' is just a delusional excuse for your own arrogance!"

  "Oh, don't even go there, you so don't want to go there."

  "You say 'God,' but what you mean is a handful of relative babies mouthing their own interpretations of the ravings of luna—"

  "Father O'Reilly has more wisdom in his little finger than—"

  "Your Father O'Reilly is a petty, deluded, clanless, juvenile intriguer who—"

  "You take that back!"

  Papa O'Neal was back now, one of the buckets to the brim and sloshing. He'd been nice enough to empty it and at least get them clean water. The shoving had started, and they weren't bothering to get to their feet so much. Hadn't gotten to hair pulling yet. Probably a good thing. Some things, he just couldn't watch. He was pretty sure neither one had enough presence of mind left to hurt the other even if they'd a mind to. Not even Michelle. When it was time to put a stop to it, his ears would tell him well enough. They were sisters, all right.

  "What is your answer, a few humans get to choose for everybody?"

  "You're Human, in case you've forgotten, you bitch."

  "Do you think I forget that ever, for even an instant? You people send me off to live among—"

  "Oh, like being in a war and about to be eaten was such a piece of cake! And the Bane Sidhe aren't just a few hum—"

  "One, you small-scale intriguers are not the Bane Sidhe. Two, the Bane Sidhe is what you Earth-raised would call the bastard step-child, bottom of the barrel, most foolish bunch of eccentric losers in the Gal—"

  "Oh, I'm so sorry you're in the family with all us losers and what the hell does that say about you, asshole?"

  "You kicked me out of the family! Mom and Dad kicked me out of the family but you—"

  "Oh, my God! I get left behind to get eaten, Daddy drops a fucking nuke on my ass . . . Oh, I forgot, before we even get to the serious stuff, I have to kill some asshole your peaceful Galactic Darhel sent to scrag an eight year old! Poor old you! The Bane Sidhe were there! Where the hell were your precious Gal—"

  "I was in exile! I was the useless one, sent off like spare tire! Just because I have been able to make something of myself, you cannot stand— And you are just one person! The galaxy has to stop because you are in danger? While billions—"

  "Billions more than would have died without your murdering fucking civilized Dar—"

  "Always with the Darhel! The Darhel are barely half a step more civilized than your Bane Sidhe! You think they are so powerful when really—"

  "Powerful enough to kill billions of Human beings! You're so fucking ashamed of being Human that—"

  "Why the hell would I not be? You are all ashamed of me!"

  "You fraud! It's all about you! When it gets right down to it, it's all about—"

  "It is not either!"

  "The fuck it's not!"

  "Arrogant carnivore!"

  "Stuck-up bitch!"

  "Deluded theist!"

  "Tin God!"

  He didn't even bother to sort out the name calling. Yep, they'd just about yelled themselves out. He gave the bucket the practiced heave of an experienced farmer, hitting them both squarely and pretty much equally. There was a loud splash. There was a silence. Both of them turned equally shocked and betrayed expressions on him. He reckoned neither one would be real fond of him for awhile. He valiantly and successfully resisted the urge to laugh, or even smirk. The situation itself wasn't funny, despite their comical appearance.

  "You sounded about done," he said. "You'd started repeating yourselves."

  Michelle looked more shell-shocked than Cally. Probably the first time she'd lost her temper in, well, decades. Do her a world of good, in the long run. True to their natures, Cally recovered the ability to act first, retrieving a mini-grenade launcher and pointing it across the room at the device. Yeah, the friendlies were away from it and the room around her was about right. She'd absorbed his early lessons about friendly fire right down to the bone.

  He was kinda proud of Michelle, as she wasn't but a couple of seconds behind. He shifted, and felt the other O'Neals follow his lead. Michelle was so focused on Cally, she didn't seem to notice.

  "I can stop you," she said to her sister.

  "You sure?" Cally said.

  "Completely," the Michon Mentat said, her control returned to her.

  "Just one problem," Papa O'Neal said.

  "Which is?" Michelle asked.

  "I absolutely forbid it," he replied. "And I am your clan leader."

  Michelle opened and closed her mo
uth for a moment, stunned.

  "Hard time getting around that one, huh?" Papa said, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "All that training by the Indowy. Lineeoooie or whatever it's called. Now, Cally might just tell me to get stuffed. She's done it before. But you?"

  "Clan Leader," Michelle said, formally. "I respectfully request that you reconsider your decision to destroy this device."

  "Didn't say I was going to destroy it," Papa O'Neal said.

  "Huh?" Cally shouted. "Well screw that!" she continued, pointing her rifle.

  "Don't," Papa O'Neal said. "Seriously, Granddaughter. Don't. I'm handling this."

  "This thing can not exist," Cally said.

  "They said the same thing about nuclear weapons," Papa O'Neal said with a sigh. "But they do. And biological agents and all the rest. As I said, let me handle this granddaughter."

  "What in the hell could you want it for, Papa?" Cally asked, exasperated.

  "I don't," Papa replied. "She does," he added, pointing at Michelle. "And since I haven't given her a Christmas present in years, I figure I owe her. What I'm going to ask is why? You're an O'Neal. I know the Indowy raised you but I also know you're my genes. You were raised by my daughter-in-law who I loved like my own daughter, by my son, before the Indowy got their linatoooie or whatever thinking in your head. You're not going to be mind-raping people. You can't. You're an O'Neal. Absolute power be damned, some people just don't care about the power. So what do you want it for?"

  "A question my sister never asked," Michelle said, nodding.

  "She's . . . Cally," Papa said. "She tends to shoot first and try not to ask at all. But it's a question you will answer. To your Clan Leader. In small words."

  Michelle seemed to consider that for a moment then nodded.

  "This device is a remnant of technology," she began.

  "Stuff I don't already know," Papa said.

  "A remnant of the Aldenata before they . . . became more," Michelle said.

  "That I will admit I didn't know," Papa said.

  "It was held by the Tchpht," Michelle continued, apparently ignoring him. "They did not study it, for they already understood its function."

  "The Crabs can make another one?" Cally snapped. "Oh, holy shit."

  "So my point is made," Papa O'Neal said. "The nuclear wall is breached. At that pont, you gotta figure out how you live with it. Continue."

  "The device uses sohon techniques," Michelle said. "But it does not require a sohon master to operate."

  "Ain't that interesting," Cally scoffed. "Afraid we regular people might learn to do what you do?"

  "Yes," Michelle replied, quietly. "And no. Yes in that advanced sohon techniques are . . . exceedingly dangerous. You hate and revile this machine, Cally. But it is simply an aspect of sohon. We masters, we mentats, the Wise you so despise, have deliberately avoided exploring this area, this aspect, of sohon. It is a violent approach to sohon that we abhor. Mind-raping as you put it. But it is an aspect of sohon."

  "So what you're saying is that if you wanted to, you all could be mind-rapers?" Cally said. "Maybe I'm aiming at the wrong thing."

  "Perhaps you are," Michelle admitted. "But to learn such advanced skills requires decades of study and discipline. Perhaps that is insufficient to prevent its misuse, Erick showed that well enough. But would you have anyone have access to such power? Consider his lieutenant. Consider the many people you have . . . cleansed over the years."

  "Point," Cally said, frowning.

  "That is the yes," Michelle said. "It is clear that humanity, as a whole, is not ready for the power to simply press a button and achieve this sort of power."

  "So we destroy it," Cally said. "The Crabs had it for how long? And they never made another one. So it's unlikely they're going to any time soon."

  "But there is the no," Michelle said. "This device generates sohon fields. Yes, it was misused. But consider the possibilities, sister. Other devices that can be used for peaceful applications of sohon. For building that does not require such intense energy on the part of a person. New ship drives, new methods of power generation. The peaceful applications are endless."

  "Ain't possible," Papa O'Neal said. "Nuclear power, nuclear weapons. Chemical industry, gas factories. Medical technology, biological weapons. You never just get peaceful applications, grand daughter."

  "It is possible if the people producing them are devoted to peace," Michelle said, spreading her hands. "I will make a compromise with you, grandfather. The device will be placed in the care of the O'Neal Bane Sidhe. It will be accessible only by myself and other sohons I designate, secured in such a way as only we may access it and you may ensure yourself of that. I give you my personal word that the research will be devoted to finding the methods whereby it produces sohon fields without the input of a sohon master. One can learn much of nuclear power from observing a nuclear weapon, to use your own metaphor. Also electronics, manufacturing and materials technology. This is what I wish to research."

  "Cally?" Papa O'Neal asked.

  "Fuck," the woman replied, shrugging. "I dunno. I mean, if the tech is already out there . . . Why not just get it from the Crabs?"

  "The Tchpht and mentats approach the same Way from different paths," Michelle replied. "Sometimes we have trouble communicating. This would be . . . a crossroads, yes?"

  "That was her way of saying 'whatever,' " Papa O'Neal said. "Your compromise is accepted. We need to get it to Prime Base."

  "And we need to get the flock out of here," Mosovich pointed out. "There's going to be more response than just us. And I really don't want to be here when it gets here."

  "We can carry the team out on the shuttles," Kelly said. "We're not going to be going back to DAG anyway."

  "Details, details," Papa O'Neal said. "Let's load up."

  "What about the security goons?" Cally asked.

  Papa O'Neal looked at the still frozen group and snorted.

  "Let them try explaining what happened," he said. "Gonna love reading the debrief. Granddaughter . . ."

  "Yes?" Cally and Michelle answered simultaneously

  "I don't give a crap about the thing with the Indowy," Papa said, clarifying with a glance at Michelle. "It's about time you come home. Other granddaughter?"

  "Yes," Cally said.

  "Tell my grand-son in-law that he can come down and explain in person, and to me, what the fuck is going on or he's on my personal 'better off dead' list. And there ain't many people still living on that one."

  Epilogue

  "This is incredibly stupid," Stewart said as he stepped in the car. "This endangers not just me but our children."

  "Who you have never met," Cally said, coldly.

  "For that precise reason!" Stewart snapped. "Do you think I don't care?"

  "Given that e-mail," Cally said. "Yes."

  "I sent that to prevent the danger," Stewart said, sighing. "I've become too much of a player in the Tongs to keep up this dual life. Other members watch me even if Grandfather does not require it. The Tongs are not much friendlier, internally, than the Darhel. If we are found out, it would mean not only our own lives but those of the children." He paused and looked at her stony face. Cally was apparently concentrated on driving. "It would mean yours. And I cannot lose you, Cally."

  "So you dumped me to protect me?" Cally scoffed. "Oh, that's rich. I damned near got killed because of it! I was preparing for a mission you moron! You think getting a Dear Cally just before a mission didn't put me in danger? If it hadn't been for George I'd have never made it! My head was, to say the least, not on my job!"

  "I didn't know," Stewart said. "And I couldn't think of a better way to do it. In person would double the risk."

  "Well, you can forget about 'risk' for the time being," Cally said, coldly. "You're covered. My Lord are you covered."

  "How?" Stewart asked.

  "You're sure it's him?" Chang Pou said.

  "He just passed through a coded door," the technician r
eplied, waving at his screen. "It took a gene scan. It's him."

  "Grandfather was sure he was meeting someone," Chang Pou replied, looking at the video footage. The Tong were well connected in the security system of Luna. Anything that security saw, the Tong could look at as well.