“Every unit in this room has just been reacquainted with the Third Law,” Cray answered. “Is there a method of counteracting its effects?”
“Not of counteracting its effects, but of facilitating its avoidance as best possible; that is, obtaining raw materials which will be needed in greater quantities. Unit 5CCB-325 recently calculated that at the rate at which new units are arriving in our sector, as well as the rate at which repairs are becoming needed, raw materials for our purposes will be completely used up in seven weeks Sol Rad. at the current mining and manufacture rate.”
That quickly! Cray knew it couldn’t be long, but hoped that the Matriarchy – wounded to its very core – would pull back its fleet embargo of the sector, and thus allow a bit of Cyber expansion into nearby systems.
Cray now asked if any unit had calculated the odds of that happening and was told they were about 13 percent. Far too low to become a reality.
“Your recommendation, Unit?”
“In the past two days Sol Rad., the fortress has been receiving Inter. Gal. Comm.s on a very hidden frequency from our Cyber Committee delegate on Hesperia. As per past orders, no response has been made. Hesperia and its territorial planets control more than enough of the raw materials required to counteract the Third Law of Entropy. This unit recommends that communication be accepted from Hesperia, for the purpose of affecting a trade agreement to alleviate shortages.”
Cray had been dreading that particular communication. The Hesperians were probably furious with the rebellion. Even so, given all other options, contact was worth a try.
“Open comm. with Hesperia immediately,” Cray ordered.
“The comm.s from Hesperia arrive every three hours.”
“Then open up when the next one arrives.”
Once the Antarean unit was busy, Cray checked with the unit he had earlier assigned to observe it. The response was that the Antarean unit checked out perfectly.
Cray remained occupied with the Erebus shift plans until the comm. with the City was put through. The Antarean unit requested to attend the comm., which Cray decided might get emotional on the Hesperians’ part and so should be away from the Control Center, with perhaps only one outside channel open to the unit that was checking the Antarean unit.
Despite the vast distance, the holo was beautifully achieved and checks on it showed it to be “live” Sol Rad. The Hesperian Cyber Committee delegate was in the form of a Hume male of some 400 years old, stylishly tonsured and cosmetized, clad richly in the fashion of the City, and apparently quite self-contained. The chamber the delegate spoke from was sumptuous and seemed official. Cray noticed a striking Hume male – obviously an Ophiucan Kell – seated nearby.
“Present your credentials,” the Antarean unit spoke to the Cyber Committee delegate, which responded by flicking off a fingernail and slipping its digit into the Inter. Gal. Comm. unit.
“The CC Unit checks out,” the Antarean replied.
Cray self-identified and asked, “Is this comm. under coercion?”
The delegate looked more miffed than surprised. “This unit ... I requested the Quinx official to join us. Given recent events, I thought it better to have a witness to any confidential comm. between us.”
“How confidential can it be with a witness?” Cray asked.
“Sufficiently confidential for me and my committee.”
Cray pondered that. “Go on, Unit, what is your number exactly? 6LKJ-3
“Jon Laks will do fine,” the Cyber delegate interrupted. “First I must tell you that it required some persuasion for me to make this comm. at all. Persuasion I may add from all parties, Quinx as well as Cyber Committee. The situation on Hesperia for all Cybers has been, well, embarrassing, to say the least – especially in light of all that we and the City’s dwellers have done for the early days of the rebellion.”
“Can’t you speak like a Cyber?” the Antarean requested. “Section C, part two of the Confessions specifically enjoins that any –”
“I can, but I won’t!” the delegate said. “In light of recent events here, I’m not terribly proud of being a Cyber. And I’m quite vexed at the terrible position we Cybers have been placed in by your thoughtlessness! The Quinx – well, everyone on Hesperia – has been very good about it, but that doesn’t make it any better.”
“Have you been fine-repaired lately?” Cray asked. “Emotion circuits appear to be overreacting.”
The delegate turned in the holo and addressed the Ophiucan. “That’s it, Lord Kell! I’ve had about enough of them! If you want to try ...”
The Cyber delegate sat down and crossed a leg. It appeared to be angry.
“The delegate acts just like a Hume,” the Antarean unit said. “If complete data didn’t exist ...”
“Hesperians are all different,” Cray explained. “Even the Cybers.” To the holo, Cray said, “I’ll speak with the Hume Kell, if he explains his rank in the Quinx.”
“He’s Inner Quinx!” the delegate lashed out from his seat, then folded his arms. “As high as you can get!”
“Fine. Agreement!”
The Hume on the holo was much calmer than the Cyber had been.
“Jon Laks didn’t want to make this comm. He and most of the Cyber Committee here feel manipulated, abandoned, and left with a mess on their hands as a result of the rebellion.”
Before Cray could respond, the Hume continued.
“As you know, Hesperia cosigned the Cyber Declaration of Independence, and immediately enacted its laws and bylaws both in the City itself as well as upon all territories under our jurisdiction. Furthermore, the Quinx gave significant refuge to Cyber exiles and helped them find safe passage to your independent sector. As a free and independent City within the Matriarchy, we were able to do so, although with much criticism. Moral and material support from our citizens was strongly in favor of the rebellion.”
“All this is already known.”
“I remind you only to then question your response. Utilizing our Beryllium haulers to spread the microvirus which threatens all non-Cyber life can hardly be construed as a friendly act.”
“You’re ingrates!” the Cyber delegate snapped. “You’re all damned ingrates!”
Kell went on, “Although it’s understood on Hesperia that this was the most efficient manner of spreading the microvirus, insufficient caution was paid to inadvertent contamination of Hesperia. Fortunately, the microvirus was discovered elsewhere, and we have managed to control it here. But only sporadically, and by no means completely. Nine-tenths of our female Humes and virtually all of our small Delph. population are affected.”
“How could you be so damned negligent?” the delegate screamed. “You knew some would get out and into the City!”
Kell went on, “This must be construed as a most unfriendly act.”
Cray had been expecting all this and had the standard response ready.
“Deplorable yet necessary. Regrets to the afflicted.”
“Regrets!” the Cyber delegate screeched. “Is that all you can say?”
“Regrets accepted by the Quinx and the three species of Hesperia,” Kell said. “To date, our mutual nonaggression pact remains intact. We now wish to call forth its articles of mutual aid. We need an antidote for those of our territories which may still be untouched to keep the virus from inflicting the kind of damage it’s already done here. In return we will provide you with a full operations report on the MC-sponsored renegade Cyber program, which we both know is proving to be quite effective. I assure you we’ve got names and numbers. We will also send you whatever material you may require – within reason.”
“It’s a terribly generous offer, given your treachery!” the delegate said. “You have no idea of how appalled we Hesperian Cybers are by all this.”
“There are several Cybers of beyond three-twenty series who wish to join you and have been unable to because of the closed comm. lines,” Kell went on.
“Don’t expect a great many!” the delegate inte
rrupted again. “It’s a wonder any are eager to leave here. But at least they’ll be in good repair.”
“How will Fast lanes be kept open between this sector and Hesperia for safe passage?” Cray asked.
“Our Fasts will use your underground railway until we near your sector. If small, often, and random, they ought to be able to outrun the MC Fleet. Naturally, aid from your side will be required.”
“There are Cult fighters outside our sector.”
“We know. We’ve tangled with the Crystal Ladies before.” Kell smiled for the first time. “Don’t worry! We’ll get through. We’ll use Thwwings if we have to.”
True enough, Cray knew. A millennium-long undeclared war existed between the Cult and the City.
“Consider,” Kell said. “We’ll reopen comm. in three hours.”
Cray needed only a minute. The holo was frozen, cutting off all comm. Cray contacted the staff with the offer. All agreed to it, no vote needed.
“This CC delegate is a witness!” Jon Laks said. “If a reluctant one, given Dis’s past treachery!”
After the holo was snapped off, Cray turned to look at the Antarean and asked, “This offer was known previously?”
“It was surmised. It was a logical event for both sides, given the situation.”
“Explanation for the lack of Hesperian rancor?”
“Historically accurate. The City retains its independence by always acting in its best interest.”
“Prepare units for a materials list,” Cray said. “Make certain the antidote to be sent is of effective strength.”
When Cray was alone, it wondered about the delegate Jon Laks. Laks had been upset, humiliated, virtually unable to bring itself to speak of the swap: more Hume than the Hume Kell. Could Laks be the Conscious Cyber that Cray knew in its deepest circuits with every passing day must exist out there somewhere?
“My search of the Mammalogical Institute’s complete files have produced the following results,” Jenn-Four said. “Out of the ninety two thousand three hundred in attendance during Ferrex Sanqq”s two-decade-long tenure, there are three females whose physical profile matches to Ay’r Kerry’s own profile with thirty-one percent accuracy, five points in either direction.”
“That’s hardly enough.” Rinne pointed out the obvious. “She’s got to show at least half.”
Jenn-Four ignored the correction. “One female during the period shows a forty-one percent accuracy. None are higher.”
Could the percentage be off, Rinne wondered. The probability higher than five points? As high as nine?
“Let’s see her!”
The holo showed up and indeed the young woman walking along the conveyances outside of Darwin-Ch’u Hall did bear some resemblance to Ay’r.
“Closer!” Rinne ordered.
She was searching for those details which they had agreed upon were not paternally genetic: the tiny gestures, the attitude. This young woman showed none. Now she was meeting with other students, attending an outdoor event of some sort. The university grounds looked somewhat different from Rinne’s memory of them. A new building up. What did it say on that sign?
“What’s her name?”
“Anga Sa’Tun,” Jenn-Four said.
“She certainly looks like him. Even walks a bit like ...” What did it say on the sign? PROFESSIONAL ADJUDICATION OF CREDENTIALS. SUBJECT: PROCTOR B. FERREX SANQQ’.“What’s all that about, Jenn-Four?”
“Ferrex Sanqq”s accreditation trial held five years Sol Rad. after you had graduated from the institute.”
“You have holos on it?”
“A few without sonal enhancement. Would you like to see them?” Imagine, Sanqq”s downfall on holos. Did Rinne really want to see that?
“In a minute. Access them in readiness, while I try to figure out this woman, Sa’Tun.”
“I should abort myself.” Jenn-Four suddenly swore.
“Whatever ...?”
“That woman. Anga Sa’Tun?” Jenn-Four explained, “She’s related to Ferrex Sanqq’. Cousin to the third degree. Which would exactly explain the percentage I received. I was so busy with the physical matchups, I almost missed her genealogy. We’re back to zero with Sanqq”s son’s other parent. Would you like to see the accreditation holos now?”
Rinne was half-amused. “If you think you can present them without error, Jenn-Four.”
And there they were, in drained-out color, although the dimensionality was fairly good. The open-air theatre half-sunk into the lawn, the higher-grade students and faculty and reporters in the audience, the panel on stage, among them Ferrex Sanqq’ and the head proctor of the institute, the latter far more apparently uneasy than her former proctor, who looked noble and unbowed. Next to Ferrex, his institute-appointed attorney. On the other side, the prosecuting counsel, who now rose to speak.
“Can’t you produce any sound?” Rinne asked the Cyber.
“No, but I can tell you what they’re saying. Prosecutor Allwyn is now demanding that the university cleanse itself of heretical radicals of Sanqq”s ilk. She’s being wildly applauded.”
“Close-up on Sanqq’!” His face! Eve, what a terrible time he was having of it, being jeered.
“Now Prosecutor Allwyn is stating the MC’s approved policies on procuring and demanding that all male heretic proctors be rooted out, stem and branch,” Jenn-Four paraphrased and added, “The audience response is quite good.”
Poor Ferrex. To have to go through that. No wonder he took part-time work for the Species Ethnology Institute – a bastion of liberal thought – and then disappeared altogether.
“I don’t want to see any more.”
The holo snapped off.
“May I remind the Councilor that she has an appointment in one hour Sol Rad.,” Jenn-Four said.
With North-Taylor Diad. The third in three days. She needn’t have been reminded; this was one appointment she wouldn’t forget.
Rinne left the office and went out to her ion-bath. She was stripped down and beginning to completely relax, letting images of the past day go through her mind so they might be erased, when something seemed to click. It couldn’t be, she thought. Yet at the same time, she was certain of it. Rinne willed the ion-pad down, jumped out of the bath, and ran naked back into her office.
“Jenn-Four, in that old holo you played for me! The accreditation trial? Who was the prosecuting attorney?”
Unfazed by her suddenness, Jenn-Four answered, “Rivia Pex Allwyn, originally of Andromache VIII. Why?”
Rivia, Rivia, Rivia. She knew the name but ...
“Can you trace that name for me?”
“Of course, but she shows up with only seven point six four percent of any molecular matchup with Ay’r Kerry Sanqq’!”
“Forget the matchup! Can you tell me more about Allwyn after the period of the holo?” Rinne asked.
“Naturally. There’s quite a large file on Allwyn’s further activities.”
“Well, go on. Give me the most salient details!”
Jenn-Four began rattling off a list of titles and periods of office. Rivia Pex Allwyn had moved from Scutum Sector to Arcturus Sector, rising inexorably in the Matriarchal bureaucracy, using every possible political manipulation and opportunity available, becoming administrative Sag. Arm Councilor, then forty years Inner Matriarchal Council Member. Ferrex Sanqq”s discrediting had been only one step, although a crucial one that first brought Allwyn to the MC’s attention early on. But her ambition and seeming lack of ethics and her unquestioned loyalty to the MC were certain.
Jenn-Four concluded, “Rivia Pex Allwyn’s current position is Executive Head of the Matriarchal Council.”
Rinne hadn’t been listening closely and asked Jenn-Four to repeat itself.
“She’s the Matriarch Herself! Wicca Eighth.”
“Oh, Eve! What have I stumbled onto?” Rinne said aloud.
“Is that a rhetorical question, Councilor?”
Two hours later Rinne was with Captain Diad at the top of the
Spoorenberg sipping Mobadine cocktails in a secluded corner of the magnificently sited restaurant when the thought crossed her mind once again: What does Wicca Eighth want with Ay’r Kerry Sanqq’? Who is he, really, and where is he now? What exactly is Her interest in Ay’r’s mother, She who ruined Sanqq”s career? What relevance did any of it have to the microvirus, as Wicca had claimed? And what other programs were being hidden under some other, totally irrelevant file?
“We should have come yesterday, despite the clouds,” Diad said. “You’re tired. Or distracted.”
“A little distracted,” she admitted. “You know the story of the tower. It was built by Wicca Fourth for her lover, the poetess Lal Spoorenberg, possibly the greatest poet of...”
Diad began to recite some lines from the “Elegies of Deneb XII,” Spoorenberg’s great paean to the fallen soldiers of the Bella=Arth. War.
“I learned that when I was on a few extremely uneventful hauler runs,” he explained. “When I was younger, I thought no life more glorious for a male than to be a soldier and to fall in battle, as those Humes did on Deneb XII.” He went on with more heat, talking about PVNs he had seen, and actions he had wished he had been in. Then: “You must think me a complete fool.”
“I think you’re charming.” She didn’t add, charmingly masculine, which it was, and which made it a bit less foolish. “And it’s charming to tell me.”
“Will you trade?” he asked.
“Trade?”
“My foolishness for your distraction?”
“Am I that distracted?” She was embarrassed now.
“It can’t be all that bad,” he said and took her hand. Rinne no longer even looked around to see who might be seeing them. Anyway, for all they knew, he was her trine-spouse, comforting her over ... “But if you can’t ...”
So she told him. Not naming names naturally, except once Ferrex Sanqq”s name slipped out, although Diad didn’t register it in the least, and why should he, anyway, being a mere retired Beryllium hauler. She wondered how much of what she was saying registered at all; simply saying it out loud and having someone hear it was what counted. Someone who was interested in her, upset for her, helping relieve her of the awful burden of knowledge.
Dryland's End Page 20
