“But we have no idea what would be attractive to a Simulacrum,” protested S’greela. “Even when we know its habits, we will not know that.”
“You will not, and I will not.” Chan turned to the silent Angel. “But you will. Given enough information about the Simmie, its appearance and its structure and its habits, you can go into your emulator mode. You can mimic the thought patterns of the Simmie.”
“No. What you say is partially true. Given enough time and enough information, we can usually duplicate some of the thought patterns of another being within our own mental processes. But not always. As you know, we have been completely unsuccessful in replicating any element of human aggression.”
“Forget humans. Maybe we’re unique. What about the Simmie?”
“We do not have enough information. There has been no opportunity for interaction. Our limited observations—”
“—are going to be enough.” Chan interrupted Angel for the first time ever, and marvelled at his own nerve. “They have to be. Angel, I’m not asking for perfection. All I need is a good working imitation, something that we can use to guess how a Simmie may react in a given situation.”
“You suggest a knowingly imperfect thought simulation? One moment, if you please.” Angel’s fronds dropped, as communication halted between the Singer and the Chassel-Rose.
“Possibly,” it said at last. “Necessity is the mother of invention. I have within me a large general data bank regarding the Simulacrum, and perhaps a gross model of its mental processes can be achieved; perhaps enough to compare the relative probabilities of different courses of action, without assigning absolute values to any. But that process would take me a long time to accomplish, even with Shikari’s sub-group inputs on Simulacrum habits and environment.”
“How long?” Chan was not even going to mention his other worry: How to model the behavior of the team itself?
Angel drifted into another brooding silence. “If we can be left undisturbed, perhaps three days. And during that same period of time we can develop the mechanism to accept direct inputs from Tinker small sub-assemblies. To achieve that, Shikari and I must first become closely connected.”
Chan turned to the Tinker. “Can you? Can you set up connection with Angel?”
“The pleasure will be ours. No experience is more rewarding than close connection, and this one will be particularly intriguing.”
Shikari began to drift slowly toward Angel. In front of Chan, the Tinker paused. “May we begin at once, Chan? Or do you first prefer to tell us about the rest of your plan?”
Chapter 26
The Simulacra used in pursuit team training were modeled on Livia Morgans design, as re-interpreted through the work of Phoebe Willard. But they had been designed and built by the Margrave of Fujitsu. Inevitably, he had woven into their mental make-up some of his own aesthetics.
The habitat and lifestyle of the Simmie Artefact on Barchan suggested the Margrave’s sensibilities and appreciation of beauty. The Simmie had chosen a relatively exposed position on the shore of Dreamsea, a place where it could obtain the best views of Barchan’s long winter sunsets. Every evening Eta Cass-A shone golden-red through the dusty atmosphere, and the later setting of Eta Cass-B threw patterns of amber, garnet, and jet across the dark basaltic rocks.
According to Angel’s interpretation of data from the Tinker sub-assemblies who flew their sorties of the Dreamsea shore, the Simmie moved little from its preferred hiding place. It rested, half-hidden by a shallow ledge of rock that jutted out over Dreamsea’s bitter water, and gazed out across the tideless shore.
The attack plan would be Chan’s. It had to be. He was still skeptical of his abilities, but the others gave him no choice. They admitted human superiority in just one area: fighting.
But on every other issue, each one was more than ready to give him advice.
“It will be watchful, and suspicious, without a doubt,” said Angel, while the others gathered round and listened closely. Angel had been experimenting with more runs of Simmie thought processes, and was now convinced that the emulation was as good as it could be without actual contact. “However, its penchant for destruction is undetermined. The Simulacrum certainly does not destroy every life form that it encounters. It did injure a few Shellbacks, when it was first placed on Barchan and was establishing itself here; but we judge those to have been accidents. The Simulacrum shows little curiosity in small living things, and no fear of them. Shikari’s component flights near its hideout caused no action, and stirred no apparent interest. We do not believe that it will move from its hideout, solely to make an unprovoked attack.”
“For food, then?” S’greela had folded and re-folded her flexible body to form a compact mass. The Pipe-Rilla appeared as an isolated head, poking out from the dark surrounding mound of Tinker components.
“It does not need to move for food. Its requirements are few, and there is ample sustenance close to where it is living.”
“Are these things important?” said Shikari dreamily. As usual when it was clustered around one of the others, the Tinker was almost dormant. Scarcely a component was moving.
“We don’t know what’s important,” said Chan. “All I know is, you won’t let me attack the Simmie where it is.”
“Certainly not!” S’greela’s head jerked a couple of feet higher, dislodging several hundred Tinker components. “That was already agreed.”
“So we have no choice, we have to find a way to lure the Simmie out from Dreamsea. Angel, you’ve been giving me nothing but negatives. What does interest or alarm it?”
“We do not know. If you suggest alternatives, we can test them against the thought-process model. But so far we have found nothing that provides a strong stimulant, either positive or negative.”
“Hmmm.” Shikari was stirring now, aroused by S’greela’s sudden movement. The Tinker was close to maximum size. “Hmmm.”
The others waited. They were used to Shikari’s long integration time when all the components were clustered.
“We feel stupid to suggest this,” said the Tinker at last. “But we know how the Simmie chooses to spend most of its time. It watches the sun, the moon, the planets, and the stars. One of its interests must be astronomy. Would it possibly be willing to move for some extraordinary sight of them?”
Chan felt they were clutching at straws. But it was something to have the others at least participate. He turned to the immobile hulk of the Angel. “Can you run that?”
“We are already doing so. A few moments more.” A twenty second silence was broken only by the clucking of Angel’s communicator. Chan had learned to associate those chirps and clicks with massive computation within the Singer’s crystalline matrix.
“Shikari’s hypothesis can be sustained,” said Angel at last. “The Simulacrum is certainly an observer of celestial events. At a 0.88 probability level, it would move for a sight of something unprecedented in its astronomical experience. We have discovered no other stimulus that has better than 0.35 correlation with the observed Simulacrum movements.” There was a shorter silence, ended by a wiggle of Angel’s lower fronds and a very human-sounding sigh from its computer communicator. “Unfortunately, this conclusion appears to be of theoretical value only. We have checked the ephemeris relevant to Barchan. No sidereal events of an unusual nature can be expected for another half year.”
Chan nodded.
“You do not seem surprised, or dispirited,” said Shikari. “Perhaps you have it in mind to pray for a supernova?”
“Not quite. I find that prayers don’t work when you need them most. Unless you answer them for yourself.” While the others stared at him, Chan turned to S’greela. “You understand the mechanics of the aircar better than any of us. Can it be made to hover with no one on board, under automatic control and at a pre-determined height?”
“Certainly. That is trivial.”
“And could it be made to move with the stars, so that to an observer on the surface of
Barchan it would appear to be far beyond the atmosphere?”
“Probably.” A speculative buzz came from the Pipe-Rilla. “With careful programming of the onboard control computer to refer movement to a sidereal reference frame, I think it can be done.”
“And it could be shielded, or illuminated from within, in such a way that it would appear as a natural stellar or planetary phenomenon in the observing wavelengths employed by the Simmie?”
“Possibly. For that, I must consult Angel.” S’greela was staring at Chan questioningly. “But to what avail, all this effort?”
“As a lure. We already know the terrain around the Simmie habitat, thanks to Shikari’s component flights. That gives us the topography, too, which tells us what will be visible from a particular location. If we were to plan for movement of the aircar, over several nights, so that a continued view of it would call for a particular ground path to be followed, leading away from the shore of Dreamsea—”
“—a difficult problem of inverse computation,” said Angel. “Given the terrain, to define an aircar movement that would lead the Simulacrum to follow a prescribed path, one that ensures continued ground visibility.”
“Difficult, maybe. But exactly the sort of thing that you know how to do, Angel. We tease the Simmie away from its hiding-place, away from Dreamsea. Then once it’s well away from all the Shellback habitats, we can go in and we can—we can subdue it.”
Subdue. Chan knew better than to say the words that were really in his mind. Kill. Destroy. Annihilate. Murder. Those were the right words, and all uniquely human.
It was not a fact likely to make any human feel proud.
* * *
Chan’s “plan” was so simple-minded and fallible that he had hesitated even to suggest it. The instant acceptance by all the others gave him a new insight into the members of the Stellar Group. Even Angel, with its great intellect, found certain thought patterns quite inaccessible. If humanity’s worst fear ever came true and an aggressive species appeared from beyond the Perimeter, then defense would have to rely on humans alone. Intelligent as they were, the others would be no more than cannon fodder. It was no criticism of them; they simply could not think in the necessary terms.
But in every other area that Chan could imagine, the alien members of the team functioned outstandingly. S’greela and Shikari had done an unbelievable job on the aircar. Hovering under automatic control, high above Barchan, the car seemed a brilliant celestial phenomenon, a comet that streamed its tail (How had the two of them ever managed that effect?) halfway across the night sky. Every evening the apparition shone brighter and more colorful. But every evening, moving like a true cometary orbit, its appearance became visible farther to the north. A good view of it from the shores of Dreamsea became more and more difficult.
Angel had calculated the Simulacrum’s most probable path away from the side of the lake. Chan had examined that path on foot, and decided the best ambush point and the best position for each team member.
Angel, too slow to be any use physically during the final moments of confrontation, had been assigned the role of observer. It would occupy an oversight position, and warn the others if and when the Simmie left its hiding-place under the shelf of rock. The form of that warning had been the subject of heated argument until Chan cut off the discussion. He was worried by the Simmie’s intelligence and the sophistication of its sensing apparatus. He had vetoed any signal that might be intercepted and decoded. If the Simmie moved from its hideout, Angel would transmit a single flash of light, tightly beamed towards the others.
S’greela worried that the signal might be missed, until the Tinker offered a reassurance: with the many thousands of eyes available in Shikari’s composite, some would always be focused on Angel’s secluded position.
And the time for action was finally arriving. Shikari whistled softly in the warm night air. Angel had given the sign, and the Simmie Artefact was on the way. The positions of the other three had been chosen carefully. If the Simmie followed anywhere close to the path predicted by Angel, each of them would have a clear shot at it without endangering the others. And no matter what variation on the path the Simmie might adopt, if it followed the aircar at all two of the team would have a good target.
Chan, Shikari, and S’greela were sitting roughly ninety degrees apart on the perimeter of a circle which had the Simmie’s most probable emergence point at its center. If and when it appeared they would be less than thirty meters away from it.
Chan glanced at his watch. Any time now, according to Angel’s prediction. He froze, and tried not to blink his eyes.
It was there. The latticed wing panels of the Simmie, peeping into view above a sharp edge of rock. Ten more seconds, and the silver-blue body would be revealed. At this range it would be impossible to miss. Already Chan had his weapon lined up in the correct firing position.
He had a last-minute worry. Would S’greela and Shikari have had the sense to prepare their weapons ahead of time? Any warning noise now could ruin everything.
The Simmie moved into full view. The team had agreed, there would be no signal given to fire. Each member would shoot as soon as the complete target was visible.
Chan sighted along his gun. His finger was on the trigger. Two more seconds—one more second—
A gigantic bounding figure raced across his field of view. It was S’greela, emerging from cover on Chan’s left. At the same instant an intense whirring of wings sounded from the right. A frenzied cloud of Tinker components surged forward and dropped like a dark cloud. A moment before Chan could press the trigger, S’greela was on top of the Simmie and the two ofthem were buried beneath the Tinker swarm. All that could be seen in Chan’s sights was a purple-black, writhing mound.
Chan groaned aloud—no point in silence now—and ran forward, weapon at the ready. It was useless. He could catch no more than random glimpses of the Simmie, and any shot was just as likely to Kill S’greela. He suddenly realized his own weakness. His instructions had been explicit: If you have to kill other team members in order to kill a Construct, do it! But he couldn’t do it himself. He wouldn’t fire on S’greela and Shikari, no matter what happened.
He skidded to a halt by the side of the wriggling mass. As he did so, the violent movement began to subside. Tinker components were separating, layer after sticky layer. At last S’greela was revealed, eight jointed limbs locked around the body of the Simmie. When the final fluttering components of the Tinker were detached, S’greela stood up. The immobilized Simmie was held casually in her midlimbs.
“I am most sorry.” The Pipe-Rilla nodded apologetically to Chan. “That was not my planned action. But when this appeared”—the Simmie was lifted a foot or so—“I realized that I would be unable to discharge my weapon. I also realized that I could not ignore my responsibility to help to incapacitate the Simulacrum. Fortunately, Angel and I had discussed a procedure for just such an eventuality, although I did not expect to employ it.”
“Nor did we,” said Shikari hoarsely. The Tinker was still in process of re-assembly, and the speaking funnel was not quite ready. “We also found ourselves unable to fire. We thought that by swarming we might overcome the Simulacrum alone. We were wrong, but luckily for us S’greela had already accomplished the task.”
“Not so!” S’greela shook her head in the human gesture she had learned from Chan. “I had not succeeded! Without assistance of Shikari’s swarm I could not have gained full control. But now”—To Chan’s horror S’greela placed the Simmie gently on the ground, where it lay staring at him with luminous compound eyes—“now there is no danger. I have removed its weapons.” She held an array of armaments out to Chan, each one capable of atomizing the pursuit team. “Here you are. The Simulacrum is disarmed and helpless. Chan, what should we do now?”
Chan raised his gun and pointed it at the Simmie. His duty was clear. A moment later he lowered the weapon. What he might have done readily enough, to a dangerous enemy, he could never do to th
e unarmed and helpless creature on the ground in front of him.
It was a sick joke. He could not do what he was supposed to do, and Shikari and S’greela had done just the opposite of what they had been directed to do. And now they calmly asked him what they ought to do next!
What should we do now? The perfect question. Chan turned to the Simmie, studying it more closely. Without the formidable arsenal of weapons it looked delicate, almost fragile. One of the wing panels had been injured in the scuffle, and it was trailing painfully along the ground. The glowing eyes stared at him steadily, intelligently, waiting for Chan to decide its fate.
“Can you understand me?”
The Simulacrum gave no answer. Chan turned to S’greela and Shikari. “It’s supposed to have vocal circuits. Do either of you know how to communicate with a Simmie?”
S’greela shook her head. “That is a situation which was not anticipated in any of my briefings.”
“Nor in mine. But you caught it. So you tell me, what are we going to do with it?”
“Await our arrival.” It was Angel, breaking radio silence—as it was not supposed to do. Wasn’t anybody going to follow the plan?
Chan switched his own unit to send. “Where are you?”
“We are on the way now. We are confident that we will be able to achieve communication.”
Without consulting Chan, S’greela went bounding away across the rocky surface. After another second, Shikari quickly dispersed and flew off in the same direction.
Chan was very much alone. He stared gloomily down at the Simulacrum. Without S’greela and Shikari, it suddenly looked a lot less harmless—except for the expression in those dark eyes.
He crouched down for a closer inspection of the wounded wing panel. “First thing we do, we have a go at this.” Could it understand him, or even hear him? “I’m sure we can repair it for you, if you can’t re-grow it for yourself.”
The Mind Pool Page 27
