Perhaps, she thought, something had gone wrong in Thor’s simulation. One of Sol’s experimental alterations, designed to assist the stability of her virtual copies, might have inadvertently had the opposite effect in a stressful situation.
She paced the interior of Arachne, wishing there was an easier way to coordinate her engrams. They were primitive, stubborn, and inclined to be flaky the older they became. But they were all she had. They were all her, so how could she blame them for shortcomings that stemmed from her own personality in the first place?
WE’VE LOST A RELAY.
Gou Mang was gradually getting used to using the Overseer channels for private communications. Operating at a level below conSense, they were much harder for an external source to access and interpret.
WHICH ONE?
ADAMMAS IN KOYOTE. SHE WAS BROADCASTING FROM ETA LEPUS WHEN HER SIGNAL WAS CUT OFF.
STARFISH?
I’M GUESSING YES. THEY MUST HAVE TRACKED HER DOWN AND SURPRISED HER, OTHERWISE SHE WOULD’VE SAID SOMETHING IN THE MESSAGE. BUT IT JUST STOPPED DEAD.
Sol pondered the loss. One less hole ship; one less facet of herself. She shook her head firmly. She couldn’t allow herself to be sentimental.
SEND OUT DIANA IN HER PLACE. HALVE THE TIME THE RELAYS STAY IN POSITION. IF THE STARFISH ARE COTTONING ON TO WHAT WE’RE DOING, WE’RE GOING TO HAVE TO START BEING CAREFUL.
It was the relays’ job to move among the systems, collecting data and then jumping elsewhere to broadcast it. They also ferried equipment and people. As the evacuation began, their distribution and movement would be critical. The necessity for fine control of the process gave her an extra reason to encourage her engrams to pilot the alien vessels, thus giving her an even tighter stranglehold on communications and transportation.
SHOULD WE SEND SOMEONE TO VEGA?
Sol dismissed the suggestion out of hand. NO. AXFORD CAN HEAR WHAT WE’RE BROADCASTING. HE’LL RESPOND IF HE WANTS TO.
YOU DON’T THINK HE’LL WANT TO JOIN FORCES?
I GUARANTEE HE WON’T. THE ONLY WAY HE’LL JOIN US IS AS CONQUEROR. HE’LL NEVER FIT IN.
BESIDES WHICH, HE MIGHT BE USEFUL JUST WHERE HE IS, RIGHT?
Sol smiled, THAT, TOO. WE NEED SOMEONE TO DO THE DIRTY WORK.
But the smile was short-lived. Neither Axford nor Alander had reported back from their encounter with the Yuhl, if it had in fact gone ahead as Thor had suggested. The hole ship sent to investigate Alsafi had returned to report that the system was empty. A feeling of frustration rolled through her. Despite being at the center of such an enormous flow of information, it was still easy to be very much isolated.
* * *
Another midday broadcast came and went. The Library research team was coming together on Juno and had already reported some progress in the area of hole ship amalgamation: once they knew the data was there, it was much easier to find. Two refugee colonies had been established in 94 Aquarius and BSC8477. Seven colonies had indicated that they would like to relocate to Sirius, once a safe way to move their core survey resources was found. Somehow, in among the chaos, two new colonies were found on the forward edge of the Spinner advance. That was still a priority: preserving lives from the stupid mistakes of the early days. Just because there were new threats to deal with didn’t mean that the old ones had gone away.
Meanwhile, a rush of information crisscrossed surveyed space via the Overseer channels from all the manifold versions of herself visiting dozens of systems: Yuhl vessels raided five senescent colonies whose resources had been earmarked for Sothis; another relay hole ship was targeted by the Starfish but managed to escape unscathed; covert software that Sol had devised for installation in the colony Overseers was spreading as expected, bypassing virus checkers and firewalls that were a hundred years out of date by the Vincula’s standards. The Congress of Orphans was falling into place, even if, as yet, there was no mention in the broadcasts of what it would ultimately be used for. The secret transmissions had always been circumspect about that. Since Axford had let the secret out to Alander, Sol had even more need to be careful.
When the transmissions ended, Thor didn’t move for half an hour. She lay on Pearl’s couch, still wary of her bruised abdomen, thinking long and hard about what she was doing. There had been a request from Sol for her and Tatenen to report in. Earlier, she had actually recorded a message and had Pearl queue it, ready to transmit the moment midday arrived. But she didn’t send it. She had regretted leaving Alander and Axford the way she had, and hearing Sol’s annoyance in her message only compounded that regret. But that, in turn, only added to the urgency with which she felt she needed to redeem herself. It was why she had volunteered for the pi-1 Ursa Major mission in the first place, although she was aware that not telling Sol in advance what she intended to do would have undoubtedly negated the value of her effort. But she hadn’t been thinking rationally after the loss of her home colony. And now it was too late: now she couldn’t call in without giving herself away.
In the end, staying hidden was more important than letting Sol know what she was doing. The moment she used her ftl communicator, it would be obvious to anyone who knew how to track such technology where she was going. She didn’t doubt that the people who had killed the version of her from Tatenen knew all about that sort of stuff; they had certainly dispensed with her hole ship quick enough. Or at least they appeared to have. Whoever they were, Thor knew too little about them to take any chances. She knew just enough to be afraid.
Damn you, Peter. This is all your fault!
Briefly, she considered turning around. The screen glowed with the dull light of the red dwarf known as 4130-697-1. In the previous hours, she had visited numerous similar systems: 4134-318-1, Hipp43534, 4130-580-1, 4130-915-1. She was twenty-five light-years from pi-1 Ursa Major and seventy light-years from Sol. She had run out of likely targets in the range she was searching, but she wasn’t giving up yet. She still had a number of leads she could try:
All were possibilities, and Pearl had calculated the most fuel-efficient trajectories to follow to each of them. She knew roughly how far away to look, and the hole ship’s senses were uncannily precise.
Still, it was hard not to be daunted. In fact, she might have even given it all up for a lost cause, had it not been for that one, single clue she had picked up in 4130-580- 1.
“Pearl, take route four, please,” she said, picking the one leading to Hipp40918. In her hand she jingled a small metal disk; in her head she heard a distant voice: her own from another mouth in another time: “This is Caryl Hatzis of UNESSPRO Mission 805, Paul Davies, hailing UNESSPRO Mission 391. Andrei Linde, are you receiving me?”
Thor had detected the faint echoes of the transmission from the fringes of pi-1 Ursa Major the previous day, when she arrived in the system. A quick glance over the system showed nothing out of the ordinary, but Thor wasn’t taking any chances. The engram of herself from Tatenen had obviously been sent to look over pi-1 UMA as well, and she was dutifully following the next step of trying to hail the mission sent to that system. Tatenen broadcast the message several times while Thor triangulated on her. Then, following a lengthy pause: “Eos, this is Tatenen. If you’re reading me, please respond.” Eos had been on the first mission Sol had sent. Pearl found Oosphere, Tatenen’s hole ship, on the far side of the system’s primary and, at Thor’s request, locked in the destination. She fought the urge to send a reply, since it would take some hours to arrive at electromagnetic speeds. Once she was certain it was safe, she would jump across and greet her copy in person.
The standard transmission used near the Spinner and Starfish fronts followed: “This is an open broadcast to all vessels within range of this transmitter. I represent the sole survivors of the race known as human through whose territories you are traveling. We request the opening of diplomatic channels as a matter of some urgency. We desire nothing but peace. Please respond. I repeat: this is an open broadcast...”
Thor had only half listened to the bro
adcast while scanning through the data. There was no sign of the other hole ship sent to explore the system, and no sign at all of the original survey mission. If the Andrei Linde had ever made it, something very bad had gone wrong since.
“—request the opening of diplomatic channels as a matter of some urgency. We desire nothing but peace. Please—no, wait. I—”
The transmission had ended in mid-sentence.
Thor stopped what she was doing with a frown.
“What happened, Pearl?”
“The transmission has ceased.”
She rolled her eyes at the AI’s pedantry. “I realize that,” she said. “Play the ending again.”
She heard her own voice repeat the familiar words, exclaim in alarm, and then suddenly fall silent.
A chill tingled Thor’s spine. “Do you have an image yet?”
“Yes, but the quality is very poor,” said Pearl.
“Show me anyway.”
On the screen a white dot appeared against a grainy black background. As the end of the message played through again, something streaked across the screen from the left side and struck the white dot. There was a red flash, then both were gone.
“They were attacked?”
“It would appear so,” said the hole ship emotionlessly.
“Can you tell who did it?”
“No.”
“Show it to me again,” she instructed. “This time give a wider angle.”
The attack repeated at a slightly decreased magnification. The streak of light that struck the Oosphere and destroyed it appeared to come out of nowhere. There was nothing visible at its source.
“Take us closer,” she said, recognizing in her tone the uncertainty she felt about taking such an action. “But be as careful as you can—and stay ready to get the hell out of there if whatever hit her comes at us. Understood?”
“Understood.”
The view of pi-1 Ursa Major faded from view. Thor worried at a hangnail while waiting for Pearl to arrive. Something was definitely up. They needed to know what it was, but Sol had already lost two hole ships and two copies of herself in pi-1 Ursa Major trying to find out. Thor was determined not to make it three.
The short hop seemed to take forever. When she finally arrived, she conducted a quick scan of the area. It was empty, apart from the billowing particulate residue of what had once been the Oosphere, still warm despite the hours that had passed since it had been destroyed. An itch in her back spread to become a stabbing fear in her gut as she found nothing suspicious that might explain the hole ship’s destruction: no strange artifacts, no threats. Nothing.
That should have reassured her—that, and the modifications Axford had applied to Pearl, giving it a means of defending itself. But...
No, she thought. There is something here. Something nearby. I can feel it. It killed Eos and it killed Tatenen and it’s going to kill me, too, if I sit around here much longer.
“Take us out of here, Pearl.” The order came out as a whisper but, as the apprehension grew, she repeated it as a shout: “Get us the hell away from here! Now! Move it!”
Her fear peaked at the same time as the floor lurched under her. A searing white light burst out of the screen an instant before it went completely black. She fell sideways onto the couch, then onto the floor, jarring her left arm beneath her as she heavily hit the ground. There was a noise like tearing paper magnified a thousand times. She might have screamed, but she couldn’t tell beneath the sound.
Then, abruptly, everything went quiet. She held herself still for a moment, barely breathing, expecting more to follow. When she was confident that nothing would, she rolled over and sat up.
“What happened, Pearl?”
“We were attacked.”
“No shit?” she muttered, clambering to her feet. “Who by?”
“I can’t answer that question, Caryl.”
“But we’re okay, right? We didn’t sustain any damage?”
“Yes, Caryl. Minor damage has already been repaired.”
“Where are we going?”
“To our previous location.”
“No, wait,” she said slowly, thoughtfully. “Don’t relocate anywhere near the system. It’s—”
It’s what? she wondered. Not safe was the obvious answer, but she had to have something to support her suspicions. And she knew that Sol wouldn’t be happy without hard data. There had to be a way to find out what was going on in the system without putting herself in any more danger.
A day later, she was still cursing Peter Alander for putting the idea in her head. Lucia Benck, had her exploratory mission succeeded, should have passed by pi-1 Ursa Major some forty years earlier. That was a long time ago, but she was still the closest thing to a local observer there was. All Thor had to do was track her down, find out if she had seen anything, then report back to Sol. It was that simple.
Or so it had seemed in theory. The problem, of course, was that Lucia Benck had been piloting a probe 25 percent the size of a normal survey probe. Even if the engine were running, Chung-5 would be very hard to find. And even if Thor did find her, Lucia might not be able to tell her anything, anyway.
Thor knew an avoidance tactic when she saw it. Something about going back was bothering her. It wasn’t just Sol’s anger, or the death of her colony. It was a thought that Axford had placed in her head. Vega was a hive populated by one person. Was that what Sol wanted survey space to become? She could understand—intellectually, at least—that Sol had been just one of the many parts of a distributed intellect that Thor could not even hope to comprehend. She could also appreciate the simplicity of the Congress of Orphans program: the traitors in each survey mission had been programmed to obey the orders of UNESSPRO, and since Sol was the sole surviving remainder of the original organization, they should obey her just as readily. Sol now had a chink in the armor of every colony in survey space. This, combined with the many versions of her, put her in an excellent position to take over.
Sol didn’t need to listen to anyone. She could do whatever she wanted, once everything was in place. Thor should be glad about that, since she was part of it. She knew she should be happy to contribute. But something nagged at her; doubt tickled at the back of her mind. What made Caryl Hatzis so special that she should decide what happened to everyone? Especially when everyone literally meant everyone. The future of humanity would rest in her hands.
Until she knew exactly how she felt about that, Thor suspected that continued avoidance would be for the best. Even if all the other Caryl Hatzis engrams signed up without question, she could be the odd one out. There had to be some random variation in every group. Maybe she was the freak in this case.
But, then again, maybe all her selves were feeling the same way about their highly evolved original. Maybe that was the real reason for the Congress. If her own engrams revolted against herself, Sol would still hold the reins. She would still be at the center of the web holding humanity together.
Pearl arrived at the center of the latest search area and began scanning. At least she knew she wasn’t chasing shadows. The metal disk she had found in Hipp43534 sustained her and urged her on; the quote from Nietzsche molded on one side confirming that Lucia Benck was both alive and, apparently, in good humor. Who else would still believe that “the love of truth has its reward in Heaven”?
Whatever Lucia Benck had seen or not seen might be irrelevant, but at least the search was giving her time to think. And that was the most important thing. Behind her, in surveyed space, engrams were dying, whether by being taken by surprise by the Starfish or ambushed by the Yuhl. For the time being, Thor felt she was probably in the safest place around. Unless the thing in pi-1 Ursa Major was hunting her, too, in which case it might just prove to be the most dangerous place of all.
2.0.1
Rob Singh
EXCERPTS FROM THE PID (PERSONAL INFORMATION DIRECTORY) OF ROB SINGH, UNESSPRO MISSION 639, TESS NELSON (PSICAPRICORNUS).
2160.9.11-13
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Disaster: it turns out that the Starfish have a more thorough cleansing program than we gave them credit for. Apparently, trailing behind the stealth front is a kind of mop-up crew that is guaranteed to find us and wipe us out, in time. How anyone knows this I can’t imagine, but we have to move, nonetheless. Maybe it has something to do with the new aliens—the Yuhl/Goel. I’ve heard a rumor that they worship the Spinners like a god. Maybe there’s room for my secondary specialty, after all.
My first is still a devalued commodity, though. Our hole ship came back from Sothis today. Hatzis told us about the problem, and we voted to evacuate to Sothis. We’ll be downloaded into solid-state data storage, then physically loaded into the hole ship for transportation. The hole ship will do all the navigation required for the jump through unspace. They need pilots like our survey ships need hand cranks to get them going. Just for the record, I voted against the move. Personally, I’d rather take my chances in one of the dead systems—like some of the other missions. When I told Hatzis that, she called a vote, and we lost. We didn’t stand a chance, and she knew it. The majority decides to drag us with them to an illusion of safety and warmth, and we all have to tag along. It’s too inefficient to split the mission at this stage; too complicated.
Fuck that, as Hatzis might say. Were our positions reversed, I’m sure she’d endure a little inefficiency to get what she wanted.
But I guess I shouldn’t complain. There’ll be plenty of data at Sothis to lose myself in. Even without the gifts, there’ll still be work to do. It’ll be interesting, in fact, to compare my findings regarding the Esch’m and the X-ray sources with information from the other colonies. If they don’t have the same error, I’ll be even more confused.
Orphans of Earth Page 19
