A Mind Programmed

by Vox Day

  Sitting in his office atop the 270-story building that housed the Directorate's headquarters, Karsh sat in his throne-like chair, his hands clasped in a steeple, staring out the window at the rays of the setting sun. These were yellow-golden rays, which fell warmly on the northern hemisphere of the planet called Terra, third of the Class G star Sol.

  Clender sat across from him, waiting patiently, sensing what was in the other's mind. The Myranda Flare episode on Valatesta didn't make sense, or did it? Mather Shek was a double agent; he had to remember that. Perhaps this was vengeance on the part of Prince Li-Hu. No, that didn't make sense, either, the timing was too coincidental. But Myranda Flare….

  The director swung around without warning. “Flare's movements have got to be connected with the missing cruiser,” he declared. His voice was even and surprisingly soft, considering the hardness of his eyes. “They have to be no matter how absurd they look. There's no other credible explanation.”

  “But how?” Clender gestured helplessly.

  “Consider these facts, Clender. Right now Golem Gregor is faced with the crisis of his career. His primary concern will be the possibility that House Dai Zhan will obtain the sunbuster. He is aware that once in possession of Shiva, Li-Hu would be inclined to nova the cyborg sun, as a conclusive demonstration of his newly acquired immunity from the Navy as well as to win support for his cause across the galaxy. Many will see him as the champion of the human race, the man who dared to do what House Malhedron would not.”

  “Nova Diable?”

  “It makes perfect sense, Clender. The Integration is a direct threat to Li-Hu as well as the Ascendancy as a whole. Given their proximity, the worlds of House Dai Zhan would be among the first to be infected if the machine intelligences ever broke free.”

  “What about the hit on Mather Shek?” Clender asked.

  “Dr. G is attempting to establish ties with Li-Hu,” Karsh declared.

  “The Integration… seeks to ally itself with the very man who intends to destroy them?” Clender asked incredulously.

  “An alliance of strict pragmatism. Shek's murder was the sales pitch. Look at the timing. Right in the middle of the Rigel crisis, Gregor's best agent somehow shows up on Valatesta and murders one of our best channels into House Dai Zhan? That isn't a coincidence. It's a gift. It's an overture. It's a promise of things to come.”

  “Or perhaps it was a warning. But a bomb is such a drastic action! If the cyborgs are seeking a short-term alliance with House Dai Zhan, mass murder would seem to be an undiplomatic way to go about it.”

  “Undiplomatic?” Karsh arched his eyebrows. His skeptical attitude towards politicians was notorious. “By the time the diplomats finished negotiating the menu for the dinner after the opening ceremonies, the Rigel would already be stripped for salvage! Killing thirty-seven people in addition to our agent was merely the Integration's way of ensuring the news got to Li-Hu in short order.”

  “I still can't believe they got Flare past the blockade,” Clender said.

  “Dr. G rolled the dice, Clender. It was a desperate gamble, but what choice does he have? The last report from Xigaze reported ten runners intercepted, but we didn't get them all. Let's not fool ourselves on that score.” Karsh rubbed his hands thoughtfully. “Gregor is as anxious to keep that bomb out of Li-Hu's hands as we are. More anxious, I should think.”

  “Well, he'll use it against us too, August.”

  “Li-Hu? No,” Karsh denied. “He would hold Shiva as a deterrent, to prevent us from using it on Kang or one of his other suns, but he wouldn't attack us. He wouldn't have to, Clender. We could easily defeat him in a conventional war, but we would be running the risk of him choosing mutual destruction. I don't believe it will come to that. Faced with the choice between war throughout the Kantillon Sector or peace, House Malhedron would grant Li-Hu the autonomy he seeks for his House.”

  “If that's all he wants, why would he wipe out the cyborgs? Surely there would be other ways of proving he has the sunbuster.”

  “Because, for his bombast about his House, he fears it is the cyborgs who are the real force of the future,” Karsh replied slowly. He stared off into the distance, and sorrow tinged his voice. “And rightly so. The future is not Terra, it's not the Great Houses, but the final integration of Man and Machine. We will deny them for a time, Clender, but there has long been an evolutionary tide rising from that violet star.”

  “Not in our time,” Clender whispered hoarsely. “We've kept them chained up for centuries.”

  “We have. Right or wrong, so we have.” Karsh looked back at his assistant. “But empires are transient things, Clender. Even ours, the greatest of them all. If history teaches one lesson, it is that empires always fall in time. We passed our peak, long ago. We're in decline, we're decadent, and now homo posthomo is ready to succeed us. Does that frighten you?”

  “Posthuman man?” Clender shook his head. “They're not men at all, August.”

  “Ah, but they are. Our descendants, our own flesh and blood and science, and for more than one thousand years a part of the race until we expelled them from Eden,” Karsh said sadly. “Perhaps they're monsters, Clender, but they're not aliens.”

  “They're dangerous,” Clender objected.

  “So is Man. The galaxy has never known a more dangerous creature than Man, until now,” Karsh mused. “If they succeed us, at least we will have the consolation of knowing them to be worthy successors. Perhaps homo neanderthalensis felt something similar as they saw our ancestors descending upon them, with fire and club. After all, they lived on through us, genetically speaking.”

  “Not on our watch, they won't,” Clender shook his head emphatically. “And Flare won't find Shiva on Valatesta.”

  “She's not there now, Clender. Wherever she is, she's not there now.”

  “I still don't understand how the cyborgs could be seeking this prospective alliance,” Clender said. “What could Li-Hu gain by that?”

  “It might secure the technology for him.”

  “How?”

  “Consider the current impasse,” Karsh suggested. “Li-Hu wouldn't have arranged to sabotage the Rigel unless he had a plan to retrieve the technology. Retrieve implies returning it to Zhuhai or one of the other Dai Zhani worlds. Yet how can he do that? Even if he had a ship waiting in subsector Zero Two Zero Two, he'd find it difficult to get it past the blockade we've set up around his planets. Our admirals guarantee that the probability would be low, probably too low for him to chance the risk. But he might be able to retrieve it through Myranda Flare if an accommodation can be reached. We can't forget that the woman is a telepsych, Clender. It's even possible that Li-Hu initiated the meeting between Flare and Shek, only she discovered that he was our man.”

  “But why would Dr. G go along with that?” Clender asked. “You said yourself that he doesn't want to see technology in House Dai Zhan's hands.”

  “It's basic game theory, somewhat akin to the Prisoner's Dilemma. In this case, it is only in their mutual interest to cooperate up to a certain point. The winner is the party who betrays the other first, but only after the technology has been secured.”

  “How do they know the betrayal point has been reached?”

  “That is why this particular variant is so fascinating. Neither of them can know, thus rendering the matter a question of intuition rather than logic.” Karsh stared off into space again before continuing. “Now, Flare has her limits. She can't transfer her mind between planets or between a planet and a ship outside of orbital space. She needs a reliable and consistent connection, and preferably one that is as fast as possible. At the maximum data transfer speed, she'd need about point six kilosecs to jump to a new body.”

  “So, she could transfer from orbit? That would reduce the risk of trying to run the blockade around the Dai Zhani worlds.”

  “Somewhat. As to whether that is enough to justify an alliance, only Li-Hu can say.”

  “Is Li-Hu aware of Flare's limits?”
r />   “York says no. She saw no signs of Dai Zhani activity on either of the two cyborg worlds she infiltrated.”

  “If York says no, we can count on it,” declared Clender. “She's the best agent in the galaxy.”

  “The second best,” Karsh corrected. “Myranda Flare is the best, by virtue of her special capabilities if nothing else. Though I will grant that the comparison is a bit unfair to Agent York. She is, after all, merely human.”

  “I wouldn't bet against her, August.” Clender shook his head. “It would be fascinating to see them go up against each other and settle the issue once and for all.”

  “Isn't that what they're doing?” asked Karsh. “If I am correct, and the hotel bombing was Flare's doing, then that's exactly what's happening.”

  “I never thought of that,” Clender admitted.

  “It's not necessarily the case. There is another possibility. Flare's ability can only come into play if the saboteurs or the second ship have a scientist with them who is capable of extricating the vital information from it. They've had weeks to examine it unmolested, after all. Once they've got the information they need, they could pass it to a third party, one that is capable of bypassing our blockade.”

  “How could they do that?” Clender challenged.

  “By smuggling it to an agent on the destroyer,” Karsh pointed out. “Suppose Corden Hull—he's Draco's captain—doesn't see it as sabotage, but believes it was an accident? In that case he'd rescue the survivors and bring them aboard. That would give the parties responsible the opportunity to pass on the information to someone apparently beyond suspicion.”

  “To a crew member? Are you thinking there is a traitor aboard the Draco?”

  “Why so surprised, Clender? We have a detention world full of turncoats.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Doesn't it strike you as suspicious that the distress signal from Rigel was sent in the direction of Xigaze?”

  “Not at all, August. That is the closest naval base to the subsector. I'd take it for granted they would beam the signal there.”

  “I don't take anything for granted,” Karsh said gruffly.

  “Well, if that's the plan, it won't work,” Clender asserted. “Not with Daniela York on the Draco.”

  “I have every confidence in York's ability to forestall any attempt to transmit information through the crew, but remember, Li-Hu doesn't know she's on the scene. We were just fortunate that we were able to extricate her from Kurzweil and get her to Xigaze on time.”

  “Foresight isn't fortune, you always say.”

  “There is that. But regardless of whether the cyborgs or the Dai Zhani initiated the Valatestan overture, we're faced with the same problem,” Karsh said. “In concert or in opposition, Li-Hu and Dr. G are both after Shiva, and it's our responsibility to prevent either of them from obtaining it.”

  “And we will!” Clender declared loyally.

  “There is one more thing you should know,” Karsh told his right-hand man. “The High Admiral informs me that the cruiser Cetus, which was undergoing emergency repairs on zero-five-zero-eight Feymanus, has been rushed back into space.”

  “Is he sending it after the Rigel?”

  Karsh nodded. “There is a chance it will reach Subsector Zero Seven Zero Two before Draco locates the missing ship. The admiral would prefer that.”

  “Presumably because the captain of the Cetus is Malhedrone?”

  “More because Draco's captain isn't. Hull is from one of the Achernarni planets and therefore deemed insufficiently reliable,” Karsh explained. “Seeing as he is a spinworlder, the Admiralty would prefer he doesn't learn too much about the Shiva technology.”

  “That would negate Daniela York, August.”

  “Exactly, and that is a potential concern. The objective isn't getting there with the most firepower, but getting there with the best brainpower. This is a job for the Directorate, not the Navy.”

  “Did you explain that to the High Admiral?”

  “I did, but he still wants Cetus there first, if at all possible.”

  “On the other hand, wouldn't it be less likely that there are any Dai Zhani agents aboard the cruiser?

  “One would assume so,” Karsh agreed. “But we can't be certain. What I know is that if Draco finds Rigel first, York is capable of dealing with the situation. That is my preference, my strong preference, but unhappily, the Fates do not delegate their duties to me. And there is something about Flare's involvement in this that troubles me. There is something that I am failing to see there, of that I am sure.”

  “We'll get her, August. We have a sector-wide, top priority alert out to all agents.”

  “I want more than that,” Karsh stated. His eyes cold and hard, drilled into his assistant's face. “I want every senior operative on every world in the Kantillon sector to drop whatever he's doing and concentrate on locating Myranda Flare. And I want every head of station to trace every single adult passenger who left or arrived from Valatesta on the day of the bombing and the two subsequent days. Top priority, effective immediately.”

  “But August–”

  “I am going to get Myranda Flare, Clender, and I'm going to get her, dead or alive.” He turned away abruptly, in dismissal.

  But as Clender touched the panel to open the door, he heard Karsh's voice softly behind him. “Preferably alive,” the director added.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The answer to the problem of four-dimensional limit concerning static gravitation was finally surmounted by the refinement of Heimian six-dimensional theory, which permitted the two-way conversion of electromagnetic energy into gravitational energy. Once anti-gravitational propulsion was developed for surface travel, a well-funded race to modify the Heim-Allen technology for the exploration of distant planets began.

  —from “The Technology of Space” by Aric Pascal

  AS DANIELA York stepped onto the bridge, escorted by Dr. Benbow, Captain Hull gestured toward the star window. “Your timing is good. You've come just in time to see our last view of this sector.”

  “I take it that we're near hypertransit?”

  “About 150 seconds.” Hull confirmed.

  “It's always a disconcerting experience,” the doctor commented. “Personally, I find it a bit perturbing to see the universe suddenly blotted out before my eyes.”

  “It's no different than turning out the lights in your cabin,” Hull answered.

  “One could say the same of death. Symbologically speaking.”

  “Ah, symbols.” Hull drew out the word to convey his skepticism. The doctor laughed.

  “I think it's all right as long as I know the lights are coming back on,” said York.

  “But how do we know they will?” The doctor gestured expressively. “Where are we when we're in transit? We don't even know where we are, let alone when.”

  “We know how,” Hull interjected, “And as for when, we're somewhere between two points on the clock. That's all the knowledge we need.”

  He smiled at York. “Our doctor suffers from an overactive imagination.”

  “Someday the clock will stop,” Benbow replied gravely. The device attached to his belt vibrated. “If you'll excuse me, it's time for my morning appearance at sick call. Not that I'll have any patients.”

  “I'll keep an eye out for the return of the lights,” York called after him.

  When Benbow departed, Hull introduced York to Jan Galton, the navigator, and Gareth Borstad, a young officer who had the bridge watch. As they chatted, York sensed that her status had improved for the better, an idea that gained currency when Hull noticed Osborn hovering near the entrance and promptly dismissed him.

  Galton, a thin, graying man with quick, intelligent eyes, noticed York's glance toward the star screen and said, “We're about here.” He jabbed a finger in the center of a group of stars displayed on the giant display.

  “I can't tell one from the other,” she admitted.

  “That's Blackett.” The finger moved to a faint
star on the periphery of the tube. Galton continued, “The display is three-dimensional. Actually, this group of stars surrounds us. Blackett, as you know, lies far behind us.”

  “Zero-seven-zero-two-four-six-four-eight-seven is target,” Borstad called out from their rear.

  Galton glanced at his instruments, then nodded in satisfaction, “We're about to drop the veil, gentlemen! And, of course, lady.”

  York turned towards the star window, suddenly conscious that the captain had moved alongside her. They were very nearly of a height. She had watched ships pass into hypertransit before, and yet, as the doctor had said, it always struck her as more than a little frightening.

  The stars were a glory in the window—blues, white-blues, reds, yellows—almost every color conceivable. Except violet. There was only one star held that particular sheen, and that star was far away.

  “Ten seconds,” intoned Galton, his voice firm and confident.

  York fastened her eyes on a particularly brilliant red giant, so that the surrounding star field glowed and danced in the periphery of her vision. The stars appeared like little fireflies darting around the rims. The red giant gleamed alone, as if it had cut its own little cave in the sky and from it peered out into the vastness of the universe. One moment the red giant was there, flaming in its hole in the dark heavens, and then it blinked out. Simultaneously the myriad of lights dancing on the periphery of York's vision vanished, leaving her staring into endless blackness. The universe had become a gigantic, bottomless, black cave. The sight left her momentarily reeling.

  Beside her, Hull took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I realize it can be disconcerting, but in truth, I find this the most relaxing part of the voyage. Right now the ship needs neither captain nor navigator.” He looked at York, and a smile touched his lips. “We're traveling through an un-universe that requires no human hand. Indeed, nothing is capable of affecting our course until we reach the appointed time on the clock.”