The Dark Imbalance
Page 26
The whispers around the fane became slightly louder, and in the general murmur Roche heard her own name being mentioned over and over again. She wished that she could shut the helmet of her combat suit to block the voices out; the attention focused on her from those present in the fane was almost suffocating.
Murnane stepped back to let Nemeth take the floor.
“I have been declared chairperson for this meeting,” said the younger man. “As someone who has recently worked with Morgan Roche, I am in a unique position to guide the council to the conclusions it must reach. As my colleague has just told you, this development may prove crucial to the success of our defense of the galaxy against our enemy. Indeed, it may prove critical to our very survival.”
The murmurings rose in pitch again, threatening to become a clamor of alarm.
“Please!” Nemeth raised both his hands, gesturing for calm. “There is no need for panic!” he called out over the noise. “We mustn’t be unnerved by what the enemy has done this day! Don’t allow yourselves to think that they have the measure of us. What you are seeing is merely the winnowing of the weak—of those corrupted and influenced by the enemy! Those seduced by evil have died by evil’s hand! But the same fate does not await us. We are equal to the task ahead. We are strong; we will prevail!”
He lowered his hands and cast his gaze across the crowd. If he expected cheers, he didn’t get them, but he did get the crowd’s full attention. After a while, relative quiet returned to the enormous room.
Roche wondered how many people had allies, friends, or family among those already killed in the chaos. She didn’t think that any of the Castes she had encountered deserved to be labeled “weak” or “evil” simply because they had been destroyed by the enemy before the others. After all, only chance might have spared the Phlegethon itself from the five clone warriors that had infiltrated it.
But this was politics, not reasoned debate, and the reminder was a timely one. In order to get what she wanted, she would have to score points, not make them.
When he had finished scanning the crowd, Nemeth faced Roche’s party. “Morgan Roche and Adoni Cane, please step up to the font.”
Cane waited for Roche to move before stepping out of the crowd. Together they walked the twenty-odd steps to the heart of the fane, where Nemeth and Murnane and a dozen other people waited for them. The gaze of the council was almost unbearable now: as heavy as a planet and no less impersonal. A subtle prompt from Maii buoyed Roche slightly, made her feel that she could actually face them successfully.
Nemeth’s nod to each of them was formal and perfunctory. His only interest was in beginning the interrogation.
“Morgan Roche, why are you here?”
“To determine the origins of the enemy,” she said briskly; she was tired of answering the same old questions over and over. “And, if possible, to find a way to stop them.”
“Who sent you?”
“No one sent me,” she replied. “I used to work for the Commonwealth of Empires, but I am now independent.”
“Is it not true that your mission has been sanctioned by at least one of the High Humans?”
“I am unable to answer that question,” she said after some consideration, “because I’m not sure myself of the truth.” That much, at least, was honest. “There have been times when I was convinced of High Human intervention, but I’ve never had the evidence to prove or disprove this.” That, also, was true; she only had the Box’s word that the Crescend was involved. “The fact that I once had in my possession a fully conscious artificial intelligence—something far beyond the capabilities of mundane science—was all I really had to suggest that I was being helped by someone in the High Human ranks.”
“And this AI is now destroyed,” said Nemeth. “Is that correct?”
“Yes.” Having been said so many times now, the lie came easily.
“Do you claim that your companion here is one of the enemy?” He looked at Cane as he said this.
“Yes.”
“We’ll come back to this in a moment,” he said, returning his attention to Roche. But first I’d like to address something else.” He paused, posturing loftily. “The last time you came before us,” he said, “you refused to submit to a genetic test. Why was that?”
“At the time I was unaware of your reasons for wanting me to,” she said. “The thought simply hadn’t occurred to me that you wanted to determine whether or not I myself was one of the clone warriors. Having said that, however, I should point out that I will still resist such a test, because I believe that I have clearly demonstrated my allegiances in this last week. Even if I was a clone warrior, I have given the council information on the whereabouts of five others. Why would I allow my own kind to be killed if I wasn’t on your side?”
Nemeth nodded—approvingly, she thought. He knew what she was doing. She was setting up her argument for the acceptance of Cane. If she could convince the council that the matter of her genetic origins was irrelevant given that she was clearly working for them, not against them, then it would be easier to convince them about Cane.
“Neither would you submit to an in-depth epsense probe, though,” he went on.
“Because I believe such probes are invasive and unnecessary,” she responded calmly. “And they are open to misinterpretation. My actions should be taken into consideration, not what takes place in the privacy of my own thoughts.”
He nodded again. “And do you speak for Adoni Cane, here?”
She glanced to her left, to where Cane stood patiently, awaiting his turn to speak.
“In what sense?”
“Would he allow himself to be genetically examined or probed by an epsense adept?”
She shrugged. “That’s up to him,” she said. “But I’ve already given you his genetic data. As for probing him, I don’t believe it’s possible. The reave in my crew finds his mind impenetrable—”
Nemeth turned to face the girl, whose thoughts had easily filled the fane, relayed by the other reaves around them. “Your testimony is not called for at this time, child,” he said, “The council will address you if and when it is required.”
“Your reave is young and inexperienced,” said Nemeth to Roche, “although I am told she does possess a formidable raw talent. It’s possible she may be right, but I would prefer to trust the judgments of the high-grade epsense adepts the council normally employs.” He turned to Cane. “So I ask you now, would you allow such an examination?”
“Your reaves have been attempting to read my mind ever since I arrived on the ship,” Cane said. “They have not been able to.”
A flicker of a smile crossed Nemeth’s face. “Then will you at least drop your barriers for them?”
“I am not able to do that,” Cane said. “The barriers I have around my mind are not artificial. They are part of me. I am as unable to remove them as you are unable to remove your skin.”
“You realize that this will make it difficult for us to trust you? After all, we have nothing but your word that this is the case.”
“I understand that,” said Cane implacably, as though daring the entire council to change his mind.
Nemeth shrugged helplessly. “Then all we can do is proceed,” he said. “Do we at least have your permission to take a genetic sample, to conf
irm the data Morgan Roche gave us earlier?”
He didn’t hesitate: “Yes.”
Nemeth waved forward two of the people standing by the font. Cane held out his hand as one produced a small device designed to take a blood sample from his thumb. There was a small click, and the two women stepped away.
A few moments later, the results were displayed for all the council to study. In a giant hologram hanging above her head, Roche could see a stylized representation of Cane’s genetic code alongside the data she had given the council before. She recognized the scientific shorthand standardized by the Commerce Artel across the galaxy: chunks of code common to all Humans, no matter how divergent their Castes, lay scattered through Cane’s genes like islands in an otherwise unfamiliar sea. For the first time, she saw the vast stretches of introns laid bare, incomprehensible patterns of base pairs lined up like words in a language she completely failed to understand.
“They are the same,” observed one of the women who had taken the sample. One of the two patterns disappeared, allowing the remaining to be seen in more detail.
“He possesses the features we have come to associate with the enemy?” Nemeth asked.
“There can be no doubt.” Several of the unknown sections were highlighted in red.
“You are convinced that this man is one of the enemy, then.”
“Genetically speaking, yes.” The woman stared balefully at Cane. “I am convinced.”
Nemeth turned away from her, but Roche cut him off before he could speak.
“Wait,” she said, addressing the woman. “What can you tell me about these features?” She indicated the sections highlighted in red.
“Nothing, I’m afraid.” The woman seemed unsettled by the question. “They don’t correlate to any known Human code.”
Roche raised her eyebrows. “What does that mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“That he’s not Human?”
“No... no, of course not.” She frowned at the question. “What else could he be? I just meant that the features we find in his introns are not seen in any other Caste.”
“But why is that so unlikely? Every Caste is different. Surely there must be some that stand apart from the rest?”
“No.” The woman was emphatic. “There has been much genetic intermingling between the Castes since the Primordial strains speciated, five hundred thousand years ago. One always shares some common features with another, no matter how different they might appear in the flesh.”
“Then what happened to Cane’s introns? Where are the sequences that should be there, and where have the new ones come from?”
“The only way the common features could be missing was if they were somehow removed and replaced with new, maybe random, sequences. But I can’t see why anyone would want to do that. The introns are ignored, for the most part, since they serve little or no function.”
“But if someone did have the capability to do this, might they want to do it to conceal the origins of a new Caste?”
“They might.” The woman shrugged. “But, again, I can’t see why. Only the High Humans have this sort of technology—and why would they create a new Caste just to kill us? There must be many more certain ways to do that.”
Roche nodded. The woman had raised an interesting point, and allowed Roche to assert her presence in the meeting. Satisfied that the council knew that she was not going to sit back and let Nemeth railroad her to whatever conclusion he was hoping for, she indicated for him to continue.
He nodded with exaggerated politeness. “Thank you,” he said. “Now, having ascertained that Adoni Cane is in fact one of the enemy, several questions arise that cannot be easily answered. Why he chose to ally himself with Morgan Roche at all is one such issue; why he chose to risk his own life to save hers and that of her companions would be another. These were key sticking points at Roche’s last appearance before this council, and they have yet to be resolved. The possibility also remains that he is in fact still working for the enemy—a possibility which cannot be completely discounted, and must be the context within which his replies to our questions are considered.
“Do you understand what I am saying, Adoni Cane?”
“Of course I understand you.” Cane’s expression didn’t change, but Roche noted the contempt in his tone.
If Nemeth heard it, he ignored it.
“Very well,” he said. “We’ll proceed. Tell me, Adoni Cane, do you possess epsense abilities?”
“In the sense that I can make myself heard to a reave? Yes, I do. But if you are asking whether I can actually read minds or stop people’s hearts—then no, I don’t.”
“And you are certain of this?”
“I would hardly be unaware of such an ability,” said Cane.
“Morgan?” Nemeth turned to her, asking her to corroborate Cane’s statement.
“Obviously I don’t know what goes on inside his head,” she said, “but I haven’t seen anything to suggest that he’s a reave of any kind.”
“His shield?” Nemeth suggested.
“It could be innate. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone that way, or even been addressed by him that way. He has never tried to influence my decisions—”
“Are you sure of that?” Nemeth was quick to jump on this.
“Positive.” She was certain Maii would have alerted her to any mental tampering, had it occurred.
“Then what makes you think an epsense link could be responsible for the chaos that has broken out around us? Either the link exists, and therefore Cane has it, or it doesn’t exist and he is as mute as he appears to be.”
Roche remembered the conversations she’d had with Maii and Cane immediately prior to coming to the Phlegethon the first time. “Like his shields, the link could be innate. Before his death, the Olmahoi irikeii expressed the opinion that the clone warriors were like him: absorbers of thought—all thought, from all around them. This would include each other’s thoughts, of course, assuming they can penetrate each other’s shields. That would turn an innate ability to absorb thought into a means of communicating with each other.”
Nemeth frowned. “Wouldn’t this make them some kind of collective mind?”
Roche shrugged. “I raise it merely as an hypothesis to be tested.”
“But how could we possibly test it?”
“Maybe we already have, inadvertently,” she said. “By alerting one clone warrior to the knowledge that we can now find them, we may be alerting the others and—”
“You cannot produce the phenomenon you are attempting to explain as evidence to support your hypothesis,” said a voice from the crowd.
Roche looked around and saw Salton Trezise stepping forward to confront her.
“How do you plan to prove your argument?” he continued. “We need more data. How do you propose we go about getting it?”
Roche glanced at Nemeth, who looked furious at the interruption but didn’t himself in turn interrupt. An intrigued sussurrus spread through the fane.
“I have no specific experiment in mind,” Roche admitted. “That’s why I’m here, to talk to the council.”
“Well, maybe it’s time the council started asking the right questions, instead of skirting the issue. Tell me, Roche, have you personally ever seen anything in the time that you have known Adoni Cane to suggest that he shares a connection with the other clone warriors?”
Roche thought about this for a second. “Only once,” she said. “When we arrived in Sol System. Jelena Heidik, the clone warrior we were following, knew exactly when we would arrive and where we were headed. That information could have been transmitted through such a link.”
“But is it possible that this information could have been obtained through other means?”
“Yes, it’s possible—”
“Then such evidence is circumstantial, not conclusive, and comes from a source one might describe as unreliable: you.”
He smiled broadly, but Roche didn’t respond. Nemeth stepp
ed forward to regain control, but Trezise refused to stop.
“And what about you?” Trezise asked, turning to Cane. “Do you share a connection with the others?”
“No,” said Cane bluntly.
“You’re not aware of any such a connection? Or are you saying that such a connection does not exist?”
“It doesn’t exist.”
“Good, because I’d hate to think the enemy was listening in on us.” He turned to Roche again. “Did you think about that when you brought him here? That if such a link did exist, he could broadcast every word we said to the enemy in this system?”
“You suggested it,” she said.
“Yes, I did—and not because I believed your crazy theory, but rather to clear this matter up once and for all. It’s time this nonsense was laid to rest and we returned to serious business.”
A dissatisfied mutter from the crowd echoed his words. Rey Nemeth took advantage of the slight pause to break in:
“What are you suggesting, Trezise?”
“I am suggesting that we are wasting our time here!” he said loudly. “That Morgan Roche is wasting our time, and that you, Nemeth, are letting her!” He turned to the crowd. “It is not any mysterious epsense link which will allow the enemy to win; it is meetings such as this! While we stand around here listening to her outrageous claims and his pontificating, we are doing the enemy’s work for them!”
Nemeth drew himself up. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Trezise? Collaboration with the enemy?”
“I accuse you of nothing more than incompetence, Councilor. Morgan Roche came to us with vague hints and rumors and she was rightly rejected. You, however, took it upon yourself to pursue her cause in another forum. Perhaps at the time the gamble seemed justified, but her reports now reveal how disastrous that course of action was.”
Roche felt Maii’s anger boiling over, but she forced herself to remain calm as Trezise ranted on.