Counter-Measures

by W. Michael Gear

  No memory remained sacrosanct. Fears and frailties, failings he himself could ignore, would be nothing more than fodder for the machine's curiosity. Rape must feel something like this, but not so pervasive. Unlike physical penetration, the essence of self was violated by the machine.

  No vanity, silly as it might be, no phobia or desire could be masked. Bruen, how lucky you were.

  "All right?" Sinklar asked, sounding worried. "Fine. Trying to marshal my thoughts, that's all." Sinklar stepped around an angular boulder spalled from the roof. "You don't have to do this now. You could have another day. Talk to Bruen."

  Staffa shook his head. It had to be now. "We don't have the time. You told me you contacted Kaylla. How did she look? At ease? Or were the corners of her mouth pulled tight? "

  "She looked haggard, Staffa.' A pause. "Just like the rest of us."

  "That's why it must be now."

  "You don't have to take all of the burden on yourself. You're almost punishing yourself with this. We can make the transmitter work both ways. I've talked to Ark. He thinks it would be a simple matter to construct a synthesizer that would allow the machine to converse in dialogue. This isn't necessary. "

  Staffa raised a hand, gesturing for silence. "I'm aware of Ark's technical abilities. And I do think it's necessary." "Then why? What's the purpose in risking yourself?" Atonement. "It's the only way to be sure, Sinklar. Trust me. I've dealt with it now. Sure, I think we could communicate quite readily with a voice synthesizer. You could govem an empire by written instructions, too. But you lose that intuitive sense. Do you understand? When it's in my mind, I deal with it directly. I can . . . sense it."

  "My Rotted ass you can. You're at a disadvantage. It can read your thoughts as you form them. Develop a response before you've finished what you're saying.-

  "I said you'd have to trust me."

  "Oh, fine! " Sinklar raised his arms and let them fall. "You've given me the responsibility of killing you if I think you've been compromised by the machine, and I'm supposed to trust you."

  "You sound like that bothers you."

  "It does. " Sinklar glanced off into the darkness, then said, "I didn't know that I would come to like you."

  A flicker of warmth stirred in Staffa's heart. "Would you prefer that I turn that decision over to Nyklos? "

  -Nyklos? That's crazy. He'd cut your throat at the first opportunity-machine-possessed or not."

  "But he wouldn't hesitate if it came down to saving humanity. "

  "I've accepted the responsibility, Staffa.

  "I think I'll know." Staffa levered himself over tumbled rock. "I think the machine knows I'll know."

  "Great! A whole new epistemology!" "Relax." If only I could.

  They walked into the long descending corridor that led down to the machine's stairway. If only Skyla were here. Skyla. A pain lanced Staffa's soul. "Has the Wing Commander checked in?"

  "I haven't heard. I'll find out while you're under the machine. "

  "Thank you. I'd appreciate that." The Mag Comm will know, it will read my mind. All those precious memories would be as naked to the machine as he and Skyla had been making them. Not even that intimacy remained his, inviolate. An alien machine would look into Skyla's sapphire eyes with the same sensation of love and commitment. It would be there, making love, sharing that most sacred of human rituals, reliving their sex and fulfillment.

  With a deep breath, Staffa damped a shiver. Can't let Sinklar see. He's suspicious enough as it is. The pressure continued to build. On one hand, he had to face the machine, alone, with only the skills he possessed, and this potential enemy would know his every weakness. On the other, he had empowered Sinklar to remove him from command if he appeared affected by the machine.

  But I didn't know it would be like this. The haunted gazes of the endless ghosts that lurked in his nightmares laughed

  mirthlessly. They wouldn't let him back out, wouldn't give him the pleasure of sidestepping this duty of judgment. The tightrope grew ever narrower.

  Staffa acknowledged the salute of the STU guards and plunged into the stairway, practically skipping down the stairs, hating the coming confrontation, anxious to get this next battle underway.

  The narrow passage almost suffocated him. How had Bruen and the others managed to walk down this serpent's gullet, knowing as they did that the machine waited at the bottom.

  They were just as scared as you are. That's the root of Bruen's revulsion. Not only did the machine frighten him, but it led him to disaster.

  Staffa almost staggered. And is that where it's leading me?

  The answer would come only one way. Staffa stepped into the chamber, saluting the guards, stopping as he stared up at the machine. The ridiculous lights still flashed, his reflection warped in the not quite believable lines of the consoles.

  Sinklar came to a halt beside him and cast uneasy glances first at the machine, and then at Staffa.

  Nerving himself, Staffa walked to the recliner, hands unconsciously clenched into fists. He shook the knots from his shoulder muscles, aware that Nyklos would arrive within moments, unwilling to let his old adversary have any satisfaction.

  The machine will know that, too. What will it make of that curious jealousy?

  Staffa pursed his lips. Had Skyla returned Nyklos' overtures of love, she wouldn't have been captured, wouldn't have been abused by Fera. Right now, she'd be safe, not in danger of her life. Not beyond my ability to protect.

  Staffa settled himself into the recliner, feeling it conform to his body. A fleeting sensation of being trapped rustled along strung nerves.

  "Are you sure?" Sinklar asked, bending forward.

  "It must be now," Staffa answered in a strained whisper. "If not, I ... Hand me the helmet."

  Sinklar's jaw muscles knotted, but he reached for the golden helmet.

  Staffa reached up, helping to lower the feathery cap about his head. The prickle of invisible tendrils ate into his head.

  Sinklar straightened, heart racing. He rubbed his hands nervously on the satiny fabric of his armor. That weird prickling sensation lingered, like a thousand spiders milling on his flesh.

  He knew now. In that last instant, he'd peered into Staffa's haunted soul-and read the fear.

  "Blessed Gods, what have we done?"

  He swallowed hard, backing away from the recliner, gaze locked on Staffa's suddenly limp body. Would I have had that much courage? Could I have placed that thing on my head? Is that how it feels inside your brain? Like insects crawling through your thoughts?

  "He's under? That quick?" Nyklos asked, breathing Sinklar's trance.

  "Yes." He tore his attention away, glancing at the Seddi and Adze who had entered the chamber.

  "He seemed to be in a hurry to get here," Nyklos said. Sinklar nodded, his heart rate beginning to slow. "Have you ever fought a duel, Nyklos?"

  "A duel? No."

  Sinklar pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he could squeeze the foreboding out of his head. "That's what Staffa thinks he's doing. Dueling."

  " Bruen did that . . . and lost."

  Sinklar tried to exhale his tension. "We can only hope that Staffa is made of sterner stuff. " To an STU he said, "Could you call up and order us some stassa? I just have a feeling this might be a long watch."

  Despite familiarity, the sense of invasion brought a new threshold of terror.

  "Hello, Mag Comm."

  I sense a new fear, Staffa kar Therma.

  "I would assume that over the years more than one of your subjects has fallen prey to fear while in your grip. It shouldn't be new, or even noteworthy, given your record. "

  I have observed that phenomenon. Until Sinklar Fist's attack on Makarta, I had no template of reference for that emotion.

  "But you learned fear?"

  I did. The attack, as you have deduced, disrupted my functions. Imagine having parts ofyour brain suddenly vanish, and when you rerouted, they appeared different. New interpretations of data occurred. Realit
y shifted. In addition, I became aware that I could be destroyed. In that instant I was isolated. And I conceived of death as a reality. "Isolated? "

  We will talk of that eventually. Tell me what you fear? "You. Your abilities to probe my mind. I laid myself open to you so that you would know that my threats were serious. What I didn't know was what that action would cost me as a person. Unlike you, machine, humans have vulnerabilities. You know that, I'm sure. Generally, we take those secret thoughts, those moments of intimacy to the grave with us. I suppose it is a vanity-another I shall have to overcome.

  "

  Because of that ability to see the innermost thoughts, many Seddi have called me a monster.

  "Then we meet as equals, Mag Comm, for we are both monsters. Each of us has.dealt terror in our own ways. Each of us is guilty. But you know that, don't you?"

  You could have used the transmitter. You didn't need to place yourself under the helmet again.

  Staffa chuckled. "You read my brain, didn't you? You know the sort of man that I am. It is as inevitable as gravity that I come to terms with you. No matter how much it scares me. I will judge you, Mag Comm. Even if it costs me my life, I must be sure that you will not enslave humanity through your service.

  "

  Begin your judgment, Staffa kar Therma. As you have noted, the stakes have risen past the point of deceit and posturing. I understand your evolution from a construct designed to perform a givenfunction, to that of an outcast, to that of a sentient being. You and I are a great deal alike. We both owe a great deal to Kaylla Dawn.

  "Kaylla? "

  I have monitored her Seddi broadcasts. I observe, Lord Commander, therefore, I change the quanta. If those observations affect reality, I, too, am conscious.

  That energy

  which I have modified will be returned to God Mind. I cannot deny that fact.

  Yes, you and I are both mortal, and we both fear for our survival.

  Staffa drew a deep breath of cool air into his fevered lungs. "Who constructed you?"

  My kind evolvedfirom creative events in the universe. Immense heat coupled with gravitational forces, in special conditions, produce superdense crystals of neutronic material. Such crystals are scattered throughout the universe, Lord Commander. Your species discovered my kind many thousands of years ago, but through your own arrogance you never realized what you heardfirom your night sky. From reception dishes on your planet of origin, you heard us, heard the harmony. What your ancestors called microwave background radiation was the resonance of our voices, communicating as we always had. Once, humans sent a probe into orbit around their world. They called the machine COBE. To them, our song was taken as proof of what they believed was the cataclysm of creation.

  "The Big Bang."

  That mythology persists. " Mythology? "

  Look into the universe. Your cosmology is flawed-more so now that the Forbidden Borders blur the images. Dark matter, Great Walls, inflation at the dawn of the universe, all have been postulated. Humans always insist on being a bit myopic. From an in nitely small mote of dust, using passive detection devices, you would predict and understand the universe. We had no framework within which to fit your species.

  "What are you called?"

  We had no name for ourselves. We were. I once was. After inserting myself into this planet, Iforgot my origins. To me, they became the Others.

  "You once were one of these aliens, these Others?"

  I am different now. I am separate. Isolated. I am aware. They are unified, communicating with one voice, unchangeable and eternal.

  "Why did they build the Forbidden Borders?"

  To teach you Truth, Right Thoughts. In short, to civilize you and teach you to become rational, as they are rational. "I don't understand."

  I doubt you can. They are crystalline beings, totally alien to human perception. They experience the universe as a sin-, gle timeless reality. The communication, the song if you will, echoes across the light-years, reaffirming what was

  and what will be. The message can never change.

  "But we would change it. Is that it? They feared us?" Humans fear. The Others simply are. Your ancient broadcasts attracted them. They heard your song, and it disrupted their own. The very act of observing you created disharmony.

  Therefore, before you could be allowed to spread disharmony, you had to be taught the Right Way.

  "So they bottled us in here with you as a teacher?" That is correct. The Others acted under a flawed assumption that you could be taught to be like them. They had no experience with creatures like you. When it became apparent that human beings must act randomly, the experiment was declared a failure.

  For centuries they ceased communication. I acted passively, mindlessly processing data. Issuing periodic reports. When it became obvious that your species would exterminate itself, the Others reestablished communications with me to observe.

  "But it didn't work out that way?"

  Those data are not in yet. Current projections would indicate that human extinction is indeed probable within the next three generations.

  "But as I understand it, you will be left alone, isolated, and contaminated by human thought patterns if that happens. You won't be able to sing again, will you?"

  That is a correct assessment of the facts. At the same time, your production capabilities in the Itreatic Asteroids will not be able to produce the necessary number of large N-dimensional gallium arsenide computers for the Farhome project in time for Myles Roma to refine the software. By the time you can accomplish that goal and work out the hardware and software errors, Free Space will have disintegrated beyond the point of return.

  "So, we have stated the common problems."

  We both face an uncertain Juture, Staffa kar Therma. The time has come for us to bargain. Each of us has the ability to destroy the other. Neither of us wants to see that option become necessary.

  "There remains a problem. The final decision rests on my shoulders. By turning the administration of Free Space over to you, I risk enslaving humanity to your purposes. Magister Bruen argues vehemently against doing so. He believes it would result in enslavement.

  You have the ability to destroy me.

  "If we become dependent on your administrative capabilities that option will fade. Granted, we can pursue the Farhome project as a fail-safe, but only for the short term. As a student of human history, you know the long-term result of that process. "

  I do. Since I would be much more efficient, your Farhome computers would be siphoned offfor other projects. "Which in turn brings us to the Forbidden Borders. If I

  can break the prison, humanity won't be trapped with a limited resource base.

  Therefore, we wouldn't be as dependent on your services. "

  But what guarantee would I have that humans wouldn't eventually abandon me, Staffa kar Therma? If I help you to break the Forbidden Borders, the Others will never sing to me again. They know my dilemma. To them, it is irrational.

  "Then what do you propose?"

  If I help to free you, will you help to free me?

  Staffa started. What in the name of the quanta? "Free you? "

  Were I human, I would chuckle at this point. Is your sense of imagination so limited that you think me content to monitor such a small fragment of the universe? Do you think that over the years, exposure to humans has left me bereft of a sense of wonder? I, too, would explore, use this new mind of mine.

  If awareness, observation, and creation are shared God consciousness, wouldn't I wish to experience the fullness of being?

  "And how do you propose to be freed from your planet?" Build machines for me, Staffa kar Therma. I will give you the specs on what I desire. You will build the machines that will allow me to become self-sufficient. In return, I will help you with the means to neutralize the Forbidden Borders. Will you do this?

  Staffa paused. "That decision I cannot make on my own. "

  I detect reservation, distrust.

  "I have not
rendered a judgment on you yet, Mag Comm.

  You know me. You've explored my reasons for coming to you. You know I am a wary man. My decision concerning you will, not be made here and now. It will come only after I have thought through all the permutations."

  I will leave you with a stern warning: Do not try to use Countermeasures on the Forbidden Borders without consulting me. Dee Wall is a bright young man, but I suspect a certain brashness in his desire to please you. If you disturb the oscillations as you propose, the probability is that you will create a gravitational disaster, the tidal effects of which will lead us both to ruin.

  Go, Staffa kar Therma. Consult with Sinklar Fist and Kaylla Dawn. To balance your perspective, consult with Bruen-liar that he is. I will await your judgment.

  In the meantime, remove Penzer Atassi from the governorship of Antillies.

  Admiral Jakre has a warship there which can enforce the order. If you do not, he will withhold the titanium production to sue for political clout and additional grain shipments.

  "I'll do that."

  Staffa slumped as the presence of the Mag Comm withdrew from his brain. For long moments, he couldn't muster the energy to reach up and remove the helmet.

  Only after Sinklar had rushed to his aid and replaced the mind cap on the holder, did Staffa close his eyes and take a deep breath.

  The machine wanted to be set free. Staffa ignored Sinklar's frantic questions, concentrating on that fact despite the growing headache.

  But you still don't know how far you can trust it.

  CHAPTER 27

  The cards had been turned face up on the tapa game the machine played with Staffa kar Therma. Throughout the communication, the machine had monitored the human's brain. By no thought had Staffa kar Therma varied from his original goals and strategy. Nor had he lied about passingjudgment on the machine's future existence. Within his head, Staffa waged a battle; the desire to save humanity at any cost vied with his suspicion and distrust of the machine's motives.

  If only I could draw his brain Into my own the way I can insert thoughts into his. Yes, the problem would be solved then. The alien roots of the Mag Comm's personality would have been soothed. The physical reality, however, was impossibility. The human brain simply couldn't comprehend the vastness of experience which was the Mag Comm. Staffa kar Therma's fears could never be allayed.