The Android's Dream

by John Scalzi

  “Miss Baker is fine,” Robin said.

  “Well then, Miss Baker, if you know that you are your own nation, then you may also know that my nation is at war with yours,” Narf-win-Getag said. “Considering we outnumber your nation by about three billion to one, that’s not good news for you.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to play intimidation games, Ambassador,” Creek said.

  “My apologies,” Narf-win-Getag said. “By all means, let’s get to it.”

  “I’m going to make this simple,” Creek said. “You want to take the crown of Nidu. Your flunky here”—Creek motioned to Jean Schroeder—“wants the Earth. You need Robin to make it happen.”

  “That’s not quite true,” Narf-win-Getag said. “I can make it happen without her help. It will just be . . . messier.”

  “And not guaranteed,” Creek said. “Whereas with her, your ascension is uncontested and incontestable.”

  “Yes,” Narf-win-Getag said.

  “You realize now there’s no way you can take her by force,” Creek said.

  “I would prefer to say that at this point it is impractical to do so,” Narf-win-Getag said.

  “However you want to say it, these are the facts before us,” Creek said. “So let’s make a deal. We—all three of us—are willing to accompany you to Nidu, in your ship. When we arrive at Nidu, Robin will take part in the ceremony to crown a new Fehen. But there are four conditions.”

  “Name them,” Narf-win-Getag said.

  “Condition one,” Creek said. “Call off the war on Robin.”

  “I’m not Fehen yet,” said Narf-win-Getag.

  “But you control the Glar destroyers,” Creek said. “Which means you control the Nidu military. You have it within your power to call off the dogs.”

  “So I do. You’ve done your homework, Minister Creek,” Narf-win-Getag said.

  “I am a diplomat by profession, Ambassador,” Creek said. “I know how to do my job. Do you agree to the first condition?”

  “I do,” Narf-win-Getag. “I will have it formalized when I become Fehen.”

  “Condition two,” Creek said. “Your gunship up there stands down and the Neverland is allowed to leave Chagfun intact.”

  “Not before you two are on my ship, and we’ve jumped into n-space,” Narf-win-Getag said. “I don’t want to risk the two of you—three of you, excuse me,” Narf-win-Getag corrected himself, “nobly sacrificing yourself for the UNE.”

  “We’ll arrange to have your ship and the Neverland make the jump into n-space simultaneously,” Creek said. “Will you accept that?”

  “Yes,” Narf-win-Getag said. “Your third condition, Minister Creek.”

  “That Robin survives the coronation ceremony,” Creek said. “The sheep used in the ceremony have always been slaughtered. Not this time.”

  “My understanding of the ceremony is that it requires the blood of the sheep and it requires a brain scan,” Nerf-win-Getag. “Both can be done without killing Miss Baker. Agreed.”

  “Thank you,” Creek said. Robin relaxed visibly.

  “You said you had four conditions,” Narf-win-Getag said.

  “Condition four,” Creek said, and pointed again to Jean Schroeder. “That man does not get the Earth.”

  “What?” Jean Schroeder said.

  “He’s a traitor to his own nation,” Creek said. “He also conspired to assassinate the head of a nation whose sovereignty is recognized by the Common Confederation. He also tried to kill me. So, it’s a personal thing. He goes or we go. It’s nonnegotiable.”

  Jean Schroeder laughed. “Go to hell, Creek,” he said.

  “Agreed,” Narf-win-Getag said.

  “What? What?” Jean Schroeder said, and turned to Narf-win-Getag. “No, no, no. You can’t cut me out of this, Narf. I made this happen for you. My father made this happen for you. You and your whole goddamned clan couldn’t have done this without us. Now don’t you dare think you can just put me to the side. You get Nidu. I get the Earth. That’s always been the agreement. That is nonnegotiable. You don’t need them to get the throne. But you need me.”

  “I needed you,” Narf-win-Getag said, to Schroeder. “The tense is, I’m afraid, of critical importance here, Jean.”

  “Narf,” Jean Schroeder said, and then whatever was coming next was lost as Narf-win-Getag backhanded Schroeder viciously across the jaw. Schroeder staggered backward, stunned; Narf-win-Getag struck him again and sent him sprawling onto the black rock of the amphitheatre. Schroeder scrambled to get on his feet, but the larger, more muscular Nidu was on him, driving him back to ground and wrapping his hands around Schroeder’s neck. Schroeder choked and gurgled and wheezed and died.

  Narf-win-Getag stood, brushed himself off, and straightened his clothes. “I trust that will be sufficient assurance,” he said to Creek.

  “It was a little more than I was expecting,” Creek said.

  “Was it?” Narf-win-Getag said, and then it was his turn to laugh, in the Nidu way. “Really, now, Minister Creek. After all that happened—after all that’s happened to you—did you really expect anything less from me?”

  chapter 16

  On the periphery of the Nidu computer network, Brian waited for a sign. He wasn’t waiting alone.

  “They’ve jumped out of n-space, you know,” Andrea Hayter-Ross said, floating next to Brian and sitting at that damned patio table of hers.

  “I know,” Brian said. “I’m getting better at the whole ‘being multiple places at once’ thing.”

  “There’s a good boy,” Hayter-Ross said. “You’re showing off your learning curve again.”

  “Thanks, Grandma,” Brian said.

  “And saucy too,” Hayter-Ross said. “Just the way I like my boys. So, how are you enjoying it? Being on the cusp of history?”

  “I’m not,” Brian said. “I hate the waiting. I want it to begin.”

  “Patience, Brian,” Hayter-Ross said. “It won’t be long now. Narf-win-Getag is heading his shuttle straight for the Fehenjuni—that’s the imperial court, you know.”

  “I know,” Brian said.

  “Of course you do,” Hayter-Ross said. “Narf-win-Getag isn’t even letting Creek and Robin choose an appropriate wardrobe for themselves, he’s in such a rush. He’s going to have robes waiting for them at the Fehenjuni.”

  “Can you blame him?” Brian said. “He’s spent decades plotting and planning. Now he figures he’s just an hour or two away from his prize. When you’re ready for your future, you want it to happen as soon as possible. This guy’s an asshole, but I sympathize with his point of view on that particular subject.”

  “Well, both of you will be living in the future soon enough,” Hayter-Ross said. “In the meantime, Brian, sit down and have a cup of tea with me.”

  “The tea doesn’t exist, you know,” Brian said. “And anyway, I hate tea.”

  “Silly boy,” Hayter-Ross said, as she poured Brian a cup anyway. “I know the tea doesn’t exist. And you ought to know by now that just because I give you tea doesn’t mean you can’t change it to whatever you want when you drink it.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Brian said.

  “I know,” Hayter-Ross said, holding the cup up for Brian to take. “But you’re going to have to get used to thinking about things a whole new way. This is as good a place as any to start.”

  “Wow,” Robin Baker said, in spite of herself. “Have you ever seen a room like this?”

  “One time,” Creek said. “In Jerusalem. The Dome of the Rock. But this is much bigger.”

  The two were standing in the center of the Great Hall of the Fehen, itself the heart of the immense complex known as the Fehenjuni, the Seat of the Fehen. The Great Hall was impractically large, the size of a football stadium, and topped with a hemispherical dome constructed of giant, curving sheets of manufactured, reinforced gemstones. Emerald and ruby and sapphire and tourmaline and opal and garnet were all used like stained glass to form scenes of Nidu mytholog
y and history. Creek had no doubt that Narf-win-Getag would displace one of the stories portrayed on the dome to place his own up there, to shine in the light of Nidu’s sun. In the center of the dome, a manufactured diamond the size of a baby elephant was faceted to collimate the light of the sun straight down to the center of the room, to a raised dais which usually held the throne of the Fehen, but which today held the altar upon which Robin Baker would spill her blood.

  Robin and Creek were not alone in the Great Hall. They were not even the only humans; per a now-ancient service agreement, two representatives of LegaCen were on hand to monitor the performance of the computer network during the ceremony and to focus the computers’ projectors, which would create certain images during the proceedings. Around them and Creek and Robin, Nidu apparatchiks buzzed, preparing the room for the ceremony and ignoring the humans in their presence as one would expect the Nidu to do in this, the most important room on the planet. To the side of the altar a Nidu priest paced, going over the ceremony in his head and attempting not to be scandalized that a human woman would be the sacrifice this time—and that he wasn’t actually allowed to sacrifice her completely.

  In a matter of minutes, the gargantuan doors at the end of the hall would swing open, allowing the guests and official observers of the ceremony into the hall. In their number would be high-ranking members of government from more than 200 worlds, and mid-ranking members of government from the rest as well as a low-end representative from the CC itself—a general reflection of the overall status of Nidu in the CC hierarchy of worlds.

  As a matter of status, President Webster of Earth really should have been the one to attend the ceremony. Rather inconveniently, however, it conflicted with a long-planned state visit from the president of Vhrugy, one of the rather more important worlds in the CC. And so Webster was not disposed to attend. In these circumstances, Secretary of State Heffer was a reasonable substitute. There was small irony, therefore, in the fact that the suddenly worsening relations between Earth and Nidu had caused the president of Vhrugy to cancel her visit. Technically, the president was free to attend the coronation. As a practical matter, however, his world was looking down the launchers of two planet cracker bombs. And so once again it did not make the best of sense for him to be there.

  Some short time after the guests were assembled, Narf-win-Getag would enter the Great Hall, ascend the dais, and perform a series of general rituals that announced his intent to take the throne of Nidu. These preliminary rituals were not strictly required for ascension to the throne, but they were traditional, and they gave the ceremony a nice rounded feel.

  After the preliminaries came the required sections, which were created by the auf-Getags after the clan had initially ascended the throne. Many clans who had previously ascended the throne had lardered their coronation ceremonies with so many actions and details that all but the most attentive of candidates ran the very real risk of screwing up and disqualifying himself and his clan, thus throwing Nidu—yet again—into the throes of civil war.

  Unlike these clans, the auf-Getags opted to keep their required rituals simple: A scan of the brain of the sacrificial sheep and the subsequent blood sacrifice, followed by two questions asked by the Nidu computer network: “Which clan brings the sacrifice?” and “What is the bidding of the clan of sacrifice?” The intended answers to these questions were, respectively, “The auf-Getag clan” and “Give me control of the network.”

  The auf-Getags were comfortable with such a short ceremony because of the computer network and because of the sheep. He who controlled the computer network controlled every aspect of the Nidu government. That was all that need to be said about that; once that kind of extreme power was assigned it was difficult to fight against. As for the sheep, the computer network could quickly determine the genetics of the blood sacrifice to assure the sacrifice was of the Android’s Dream breed; the brain scan determined that the animal was alive and gauged its mental capacity.

  The last of these was key: In a small but important detail, the questions asked in the ceremony were technically asked of the sacrificial animal itself, but in the event that the sacrifice could not answer the questions (which was always), the questions could be answered by a member of the clan with legal ownership of the sacrificial animal.

  This worked out nicely for the auf-Getags, as the sacrificial animal, being a sheep, could not speak (confirmed by the brain scan) and was killed in any event during the ceremony. The questions always defaulted to a member of the clan which owned the sheep. By Nidu law, the only clan that could legally own the Android’s Dream sheep was the auf-Getag clan. Even if a member of another clan procured a live Android’s Dream sheep, the questions could not be answered by the sheep thief, as his clan did not, in fact, own the sheep.

  This little detail of the coronation ceremony was the most tightly held secret of the auf-Getag clan, known only to its highest-ranking members. This number included Hubu-auf-Getag, who would be attending the ceremony today and who fully expected to perform the ceremony himself after Narf-win-Getag’s attempt failed. At which point he fully expected to have Narf-win-Getag executed for treason right there on the ancient and priceless rugs of the Great Hall, in front of the assembled audience of visitors from hundreds of worlds. Then he’d deal with the Glar destroyer captains. And then, just for fun, he’d decimate the win-Getag clan, executing one clan member in ten at random. That would be the end of any other thoughts of uprising by any other clan for a good long time.

  As tightly held as this secret was, it did not originate with the auf-Getag clan itself. Rather it was suggested to the auf-Getag clan, in a batch with a number of other unrelated performance and optimization suggestions, by an advisory panel at LegaCen, the general contractor building the new Nidu computer network. The auf-Getags, delighted by the sneakiness of the idea and encouraged by LegaCen’s rock-solid nondisclosure pact, signed off on it. Now decades later, they had no idea the secret came from outside their clan. The clan members had simply forgot.

  “How do you feel?” Creek asked Robin.

  “Like I’m going to throw up,” Robin said.

  “There’s a receptacle,” Creek said, pointing to the trough at the altar into which Robin’s blood would flow.

  “Don’t tempt me,” Robin said. “Also, this hurts like hell.” Robin held up her wrist, into which a small medical shunt had been jammed. At the appropriate time in the ceremony the stopper on the shunt would be turned and about two ounces of Robin’s blood would fall into the trough.

  “I guarantee you it hurts less than the alternative,” Creek said.

  “This is all so unreal, Harry,” Robin said. “I want to wake up in my crappy little bed in my crappy little apartment and have my crappy little breakfast and then go to work out and clean out crappy little rodent cages.”

  “Soon, Robin,” Creek said. “Now, you remember everything you’re supposed to do?”

  “I do,” Robin said, and held up her wrist again. “Some parts are harder to forget than others.”

  “You’re going to do fine,” Creek said. “Remember that I’m going to be right in the front of the audience.”

  “Where will Takk be?” Robin asked. She and Takk had become close during the trip to Nidu.

  “He’ll be with me,” Creek said.

  Robin giggled. “That’s bad news for anyone who has to stand behind him.”

  The doors at the end of the hall cracked open. The audience was being let in.

  “Here we go,” Creek said, and turned to Robin. “Be strong, Robin. It’s almost all over.”

  Robin came over to Creek. She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Harry,” she said. “For everything. And no matter what I said before, you really are a fun date.”

  “Thanks,” Creek said.

  “Next time, though,” Robin said. “Let’s just go to a movie.” She walked back up to the altar. Creek headed down toward the crowd to find Ben Javna and Jim Heffer.

  He found the
m near the back. Javna came over and grabbed his arm in greeting. Creek winced.

  “Sorry, Harry,” Javna said. “But God damn. It’s good to see you alive, kid. Although from the looks of it, it’s a close thing.”

  “Thanks, Ben,” Creek said. “It’s good to be alive, close or not.” Creek looked to Heffer, who walked up next to Javna. “Secretary Heffer,” he said.

  “Mr. Creek,” Jim Heffer said. “Good to finally meet you. Prime Minister Creek, I should say. We heard about your promotion.”

  “You owe me for that one,” Javna said. “It’s a nice job.”

  “Yeah, but look what I had to do to get it,” Creek said.

  “If this coronation goes off you’re not likely to keep it long,” Heffer said. “Narf-win-Getag’s been playing everybody. We all got bushwhacked. Ben’s legal victory is just about the only thing that went right for us. I’m laying decent odds that at the end of this ceremony, Ben and you and I get marched off to a POW camp.”

  “And yet you still showed up,” Creek said.

  “Hope springs eternal,” Heffer said. “And we’re not at war yet. We’re diplomats, Harry. Maybe there’s another way out.”

  “Maybe,” Creek agreed. Someone tapped Heffer on the shoulder; Heffer turned to acknowledge them and then nodded his goodbyes to Creek and Javna.

  “Well?” Javna said, after Heffer had gone. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” Creek asked.

  “You’re here,” Javna said. “She’s here. I didn’t tell you to come out of hiding yet, and you’re not stupid enough or slow enough to get caught. So you’re up to something. And I hear that you’re here because you made some sort of deal with Narf-win-Getag.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Creek said.

  “That’s good,” Javna said, “Because I have really no clue what I’m thinking right now. I just hope somewhere along the way you managed to pull all our feet out of the fire. And maybe managed to convince ol’ Narf to pick someone not entirely despotic to rule the Earth.”