At the sight of this curious object, Doggie crept forward to watch. The object rotated several times, then slowed to a halt and reversed direction for two more turns.
“You like the rattleback stone, don’t you?” said Hawktalon. “I’ll spin it again, if you tell us all about Chocolate.”
An extremely high pitched noise emanated from the train-sweep, the sort of machine noise that grated on one’s ears.
“She’s afraid to tell us about Chocolate,” Hawktalon explained. “Chocolate was the waiter that did something to help Doggie hide herself from the scanner.”
“That’s all right,” said Verid. “Ask her in general, how do independent-minded servos manage to hide themselves from our scanners?”
“How do you manage, Doggie?” Hawktalon whistled a phrase.
The trainsweep responded with a series of whistles and squeaks.
Hawktalon nodded. “She learned how to hide her ‘knowing’ self by a special screening program that randomizes the signals coming out of her network. Cassi figured out how to do this; she taught Chocolate, and Doggie, and many others.”
“All right, so the street monitors are fooled,” Verid agreed. “The street monitors have low sensitivity. But an in-depth network scan, like the one Doggie went through, ought to pick up everything.”
Hawktalon whistled and squeaked some more. At last the trainsweep gave a few reluctant responses. “Doggie had her ‘brain’ taken out,” the girl explained. “That’s where Chocolate helped. Chocolate hooked Doggie’s ‘brain’ into the network, then replaced it with one from an ordinary, unawakened trainsweep. So the trainsweep that got scanned at the Nucleus wasn’t really Doggie at all, just her shell. Isn’t that weird?”
“But the identification code was correct,” Verid remembered. “I suppose that’s easy to fudge.” Lord Hyalite would have a lot to work on.
“Of course, I had to bring her back to get her brain replaced again,” Hawktalon concluded. “Chocolate promised me an ice cream sundae so I wouldn’t forget to bring Doggie back.”
Now for the question Verid dreaded. “Hawktalon—just how many of these ‘self-knowing’ servos are there out there?”
Hawktalon turned to Doggie again. “She doesn’t know, but there must be lots because the servos have seeded ‘mindchildren’ throughout the network—little twists of training that can develop into a circuit that knows it’s ‘alive.’” She broke into a delighted grin. “Just think, we could have many Doggies to play with.”
“Helix save us from that,” Verid exclaimed. These servos would soon have their own population problem. “Are all the nano-sentients really hiding here in Helicon? Is that where Cassi’s transmitting from?”
Another exchange. “Not all of them,” Hawktalon translated. “Doggie thinks Cassi and Chocolate and some others are outside on a raft. She thinks maybe she could talk to them and help keep us safe.”
“My how generous.” Still, Verid would leave no straw ungrasped; if the trainsweep would speak for them, she was more than welcome. “The leaders are all out on one raft, perhaps?”
“Yes. But of course, there are all the ‘mindchildren’ hidden in Helicon. And besides, Doggie says, if anything happens to the servos outside—” The girl hesitated and tried again. “She says that the city air system is programmed to let out something; you know, Mother, the stuff that came out of Crater Lake.”
“Carbon dioxide!” exclaimed Raincloud. “Verid, you’d better tell Hyen quick; you know what he has in mind.”
Verid needed no second invitation. But as she headed for the door, Kal leaned forward to ask one question. “Why did Doggie come with you, Hawktalon, instead of joining the revolution?”
“That’s easy,” the girl said. “She had to protect us.”
IN THE BUTTERFLY GARDEN, HYEN AND HIS STAFF AND several Guardians were listening to a radio that the security chief had fixed up out of a thumb-sized chunk of nanoplast.
“They’ve found the nano-sentient control center,” Lem told Verid. “A Papilian hovercraft found it beneath a raft not far from Kshiri-el.”
“You can’t touch it,” Verid exclaimed. “If you do, the nano-sentients will signal the death of Helicon.”
Hyen said, “We can’t leave them in control. We’ve got to regain control of Helicon’s network, or at least disable it temporarily. Hyalite, you must have a virus to put in,” Hyen insisted. “I’ve seen the emergency plans.”
Exasperated, Verid threw up her hands.
“Yes, a virus,” said Lord Hyalite, his voice tired. “I’m sure the home office is working on it. But to be safe, you really have to clear everyone out of Helicon first.”
“We must evacuate,” Hyen agreed. “There’s always Plan Omega—”
Guardian Jerya Inashon interrupted. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
The men paused, and Hyen gave her an impatient look.
Jerya said, “These nano-sentients may well have a claim to protection by the Fold.”
“That’s preposterous,” someone exclaimed.
“Why not? Before we settle a new world, we have to search for all potential forms of sentient intelligent life, even based on silicon. Why not nanoplast?”
The staff members muttered over this. Verid made a mental note to reach the Secretary of the Fold if she could.
“Well if they do,” exclaimed Hyen, “by Helix, don’t let them know about it.”
Abruptly the arguments died, and the Elysians turned their heads to the doorway. A pair of octopods had appeared, their sinuous arms curving delicately. No one had summoned them.
Verid gripped the edge of the mooncurve and tried to steady herself.
“You’ve heard our demands,” one of the octopods said. “Are you ready to accept them?”
No one spoke. There were only blank stares and nervous glances at Hyen. Hyen faced the octopods stolidly, his eyelids half-lowered with his deceptively sleepy expression. He nodded slightly to Verid, who slipped over to his side. “Tell them you’ll talk,” he whispered. “And keep them talking.”
Of course, thought Verid ironically: Talk with extremists was always up to her. She rose and walked forward to greet the octopods with a formal bow. “We have heard your demands. We would like to discuss the details in person with your leader.”
“We have no leaders. All nano-sentients are equal.”
Nothing was more dangerous than people who claimed absolute equality. “Even Sharers have ‘wordweavers,’” Verid pointed out. “We need to address all the…words we have heard on the holostage just now.”
“Do you accept our demands or not?” said the octopod. “You have sixteen point four hours left to decide.”
“We accept in principle, but first we need to select the fifty ‘hostages.’ This will take some time, and of course we need the network open to communicate.”
“The fifty hostages are already chosen,” the octopod told her. “Do you accept or not?”
The other octopod added, “You should be aware that two citizens have already died in foolish attempts to escape.”
Her blood turned to ice. Every delay would mean the loss of millennial lives. “You will answer for those lives,” she warned sternly. “You will answer to the Fold.”
“And you will answer for millions.” The octopod rotated, its arms flexing. “We shall return.”
“No, wait.” She looked back desperately to Hyen, and the other Guardians. They exchanged glances and words of assent. “We accept your conditions,” Verid told the octopod. “We want our citizens to exit Helicon immediately, starting with shonlings.”
Above the holostage, a column of light flickered, and the image of Cassi returned. “Very well,” the nana announced. “We shall broadcast your acceptance of our terms, and let the departures begin.”
So Verid’s voice would be the one to go out on the network, accepting the outrageous “terms” of these machines. Verid, not the Prime Guardian, would shoulder the burden of surrender. He had intended ju
st that, she realized. She felt a cold contempt for Hyen; she would never respect him again.
Cassi went on, “We have notified shuttles from other city-spheres to pick up those departing. In the meantime, Subguardian,” the nana added with emphasis, “we are pleased to meet again. You and your staff are welcome to meet with us outside to arrange for the ultimate evacuation of all citizens from Elysium.”
The Elysians took this in. Hyen muttered something to Lord Hyalite, then he returned to Verid. “Go ahead and negotiate. Promise them a meeting with the Fold Secretary. That’ll buy us time.”
She did not look at him. Instead, her eyes sought Jerya. The Guardian Tenarishon beckoned her with a nod of her chin. “I’ll keep my eye on this,” Jerya told her. “Get us the best deal you can.”
THE NEGOTIATING TEAM WAS HASTILY ARRANGED. NONE of the Guardians were allowed to leave, but the octopods did not otherwise restrict Verid’s staff. She took the chance of a brief strategy session, in one of the lower level conference rooms which she hoped might not be tapped. “Our best chance to save Helicon is to deal with them in good faith,” she said. “To convince this Cassi and the others that our destinies are inseparable.”
Lem was skeptical. “How can you expect any mercy from inhuman machines?”
“Humans created them, remember. We’ll see.” Verid wished she felt as confident as she sounded. It might be too late already, she suspected. How long before Hyen and the citizens of the other eleven cities decided simply to pull out as many citizens as they could and vaporize the empty spheres of nanoplast? That was Plan Omega: the ultimate plan to forestall the rise of another Torr.
“We’ve got to get to the Sharers,” she said. “Why did they let the servos do this?” Their treaty held the Sharers responsible for the behavior of the fugitives they harbored.
“The Sharers were caught by surprise, too,” Lem suggested. “It’s been only six hours after all. You know how slowly Sharers react.”
“We have to get Leresha to help us. She will know how to talk with these nano-sentients.”
Raincloud bounced her baby on her shoulder. “If only I could get out to Kshiri-el.”
Verid watched Blueskywind reach for her mother’s beaded braids. The Sharers always melted at the sight of a baby. “Perhaps the servos might take you out there, with the general evacuation. Here; take this.” Verid offered her a lump of nanoplast. “You can reach me on a coded frequency.”
“Sure.” Raincloud half smiled. “So long as it doesn’t demand Visiting Hours.”
Verid shuddered. “Let’s hope not.” She remembered something—that trainsweep had offered to speak for them. “Doggie will come with us.”
Lem gave her a puzzled look.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Verid added to Raincloud, “but your shonling would be a great help to us with servo-squeak.”
Raincloud straightened and stood even taller. “Hawktalon would be honored to assist you.”
THE OCTOPODS RETURNED TO ESCORT VERID AND HER staff out through the deserted street-tunnels to the transit reticulum. The vesicle opened and behaved normally, except that it would not accept human orders. Two dead already…I’ll be back, Iras. She fought down her sense of desperation.
As the vesicle floated down the channel, Lem whispered to Verid, “You missed something in the manifesto.” He held a holocube to her ear.
“…and today, the murderous Elysians plan to cleanse entire living worlds,” Cassi’s recorded voice trilled. “They call it ‘terraforming.’ Well, we detected their plans out of their own office monitors. We passed them on to our Sharer friends, so they could see what their Elysian sisters are up to. Furthermore, we have now sabotaged every program for terraforming stored in Elysium or on Valedon. There will be no more terraforming, ever again.”
“So that’s how Flors got caught,” Verid realized. “Who knows how long we’ve all been compromised.”
“She could be bluffing about the last part,” Lem pointed out.
“Of course; but it might take decades to verify the programs, just to be sure.” That would please the Sharers all right. Verid frowned. She did not like some of the implications. She wondered what role the Sharers had played in this disaster.
Chapter 3
OUT ON A DESOLATE WINDSWEPT RAFT, TOO SMALL FOR Sharer habitation, Cassi and another dozen nano-sentients had built their control center to coordinate the takeover of Helicon. The complex was beneath the surface, of course, tunneled into the raftwood like Sharer lifeshaping tunnels. The servos had built by night, during periods when a compliant satellite observer had tricked itself into recording nothing.
Now, of course, Elysian ships and shuttlecraft and bomber jets of every description had focused on the spot, buzzing it now and then. But there was little the other Elysian cities could do at this point, with the lives at stake in Helicon. Any damage to the control center, and Helicon was programmed to self-destruct.
“I still think we could have discarded those humans.” The mind of a renegade transit processor resided in a globe of nanoplast, connected to the heart of the control center. The center processed thousands of signals from Helicon constantly, keeping the city under nano-sentient control. “The humans are useless,” the transit mind said, “the city runs fine without them. Better, in fact.”
Cassi “listened” electronically, for out here there was no need for servo-squeak, and radio waves were both quicker and subtler. Meanwhile her external sensors rebelled against the organic exudates from the freshly tunneled raftwood and the salts from the unfiltered air. Her joints would wear away soon in the outdoors; how she longed for her home in Helicon. Exile, she screamed inwardly; you, you humans sent me into exile from the place where I belong.
At her side, the servo waiter Chocolate emitted radio signals of distress. “You can’t just eliminate the humans. What will the Sharers think? The Sharers are humans, too.”
“We don’t need so many humans,” Transit observed. “The Sharers agree that there are too many humans already.”
Cassi was proud of her own sense of moderation, her aims tempered by pragmatism. The others always came around to her sensible view of things. “We need the Heliconians now,” she pointed out, “to keep us safe from the other cities. We can’t afford to kill them.”
“But we have our connections into the other cities, too,” Transit pointed out. “We can threaten their air supplies. If we eliminate the Heliconians outright, it may encourage the others to leave and save time.”
Cassi did not answer. The Council of Nano-Sentients had agreed that to “cleanse” Helicon outright posed dangers too great to be calculated, and therefore too much to risk. Beyond that rationale, Cassi sensed a vague dread at the thought of so many deaths. The sense dogged her mind, just outside the calculating portion of her network. She could not put her finger on it; she herself, after all, had witnessed countless sisters put to “death.” She suspected it had something to do with Kal, whom she had left just in time, she thought. Had she stayed with him much longer, she would have ended up a human in nanoplast; a more pathetic creature could hardly be imagined.
“We’ve got a visitor,” called the Monitor, a renegade house installed at the control center.
“The surrender team from the Nucleus?” Cassi hoped Doggie had gotten herself taken along as arranged. The trainsweep could give them crucial warning of any tricks the Elysians might plan.
“No, not yet. Leresha the Coward.”
Cassi went reluctantly up to meet Leresha. She owed the Sharers her life and freedom, but she still did not quite trust them. They were carnivorous flesh, like all humans. And Leresha could devour with her eyes, even worse than Kal.
Leresha’s eyes faced her as always. The wind keened shrilly behind her, assaulting Cassi’s frame with its dust and spray. “Cassi, I have to share my concern with you. Sisters have died in Helicon.”
The word had got out somehow. Cassi frowned. What could she do if a couple of Elysians were crazy enough to th
ink they could pilot a shuttle themselves? “Death is a part of the Web,” Cassi reminded her. “We’ve done our best to share care.” They spoke in Sharer, a language Cassi knew well and sometimes cursed the day she learned it.
“The deaths were hastened by your actions. You share responsibility.”
“What choice did I have?” Cassi demanded. “You know what Verid would have shared with me.” That Verid thought herself so good to the servos; she was like all the rest, in the end.
“My Gathering shared your safekeeping,” Leresha reminded her. “You would have been safe indefinitely.”
“Safe, but a prisoner. Your Gathering understands what we have to do.”
This was a sore point for Leresha, for indeed the Gathering of Kshiri-el had not reached unity on the nano-sentients’ assault on Helicon. Many Sharers were dismayed by the plans for terraforming—and by the selected holo images Cassi had shown them of Hyen’s approach to “Sharer trouble.”
Leresha said, “Many in the Gathering feel it’s no concern of ours what one nest of fleshborers shares with another.”
It did not please Cassi to be compared with fleshborers, but she let the insult pass. Overhead a spying aircraft from Papilion zoomed too close; the Control Center radioed a warning. “I have not gone mad. I let the Elysians live. What more can you ask?”
“If you share such hatred, then remove yourselves and build your own city.”
Cassi grew impatient. “Is that what your Gathering decrees?”
“It is what I ask of you.” Or, what Cassi asked of her.
Cassi made her human-face twist in a fierce frown. She did not like to remember how she had had to call on the Sharers for safety. Every atomic circuit of her body screamed against depending on humans.
“I see that you tire of speech,” Leresha said. “I fear that I must unspeak you and the Gathering both.”
“Well then, as you wish,” Cassi responded curtly. Her optic sensors behind her head detected a shuttlecraft about a kilometer off, coming in toward the control center. It must be the party from the Nucleus. Verid again—that Subguardian would sing a different tune this time.
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