The Uplift War

by David Brin

  Right then all it would have taken to make him happy would have been a banana and a beer, and freedom.

  An hour or so later, “Rover” began buzzing insistently. The watch robot maneuvered to a position interposing itself between him and the water, bobbing insistently.

  With a sign Fiben got up and dusted himself off. He walked back along the dock and soon was headed past drifts of leaves toward his urban prison. Very few chims were still about on the windy streets.

  The guard with the oddly familiar face frowned at him when Fiben arrived at the gate, but there was no delay passing him through. It’s always been easier gettin into jail than gettin out, Fiben thought.

  Sylvie was still on duty at her desk. “Did you have a nice walk, Fiben?”

  “Hm. You ought to come along sometime. We could stop at the Park and I’d show you my Cheetah imitation.” He gave her an amiable wink.

  “I’ve already seen it, remember? Pretty unimpressive, as I recall.” But Sylvie’s tone did not match her banter. She seemed tense. “Go on in, Fiben. I’ll put Rover away.”

  “Yeah, well.” The door hissed open. “Good night, Sylvie.”

  Gailet was seated on a plush throw rug in front of the weather wall—now tuned to show a scene of steamy savannah heat. She looked up from the book on her lap and took off her reading glasses. “Hello. Feeling better?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Sorry about earlier. I guess I just had a bad case of cabin fever. I’ll knuckle down and get back to work now.”

  “No need. We’re done for today.” She patted the rug. “Why don’t you come over and give me back a scratch? Then I’ll reciprocate.”

  Fiben did not have to be asked twice. One thing he had to grant Gailet, she was a truly fine grooming partner. He shrugged out of his parka and came over to sit behind her. She laid one hand idly on his knee while he began combing his fingers through her hair. Soon her eyes were closed. Her breath came in soft, low sighs.

  It was frustrating trying to define the relationship he had with Gailet. They were not lovers. For most chimmies, that was only possible or practical during certain parts of their bodily cycles, anyway. And Gailet had made it clear that hers was a very private sense of sexuality, more like a human female’s. Fiben understood this and had put no pressure on her.

  Trouble was, he just could not get her out of his mind.

  He reminded himself not to confuse his sex drive with other things. I may be obsessed with her, but I’m not crazy. Lovemaking with this chimmie would require a level of bonding he wasn’t sure he was ready to think about.

  As he worked his way through the fur at the back of Gailet’s neck he encountered knots of tension. “Say, you’re really tight! What’s the matter? Have th’ damn Gu—”

  The fingers on his knee dug in sharply, though Gailet did not move otherwise. Fiben thought quickly and changed what he had been about to say.

  “… g-guards been making moves on you? Have those Probationers been getting fresh?”

  “And what if they had? What would you do about it, march out there and defend my honor?” She laughed. But he felt her relief, expressed through her body. Something was going on. He had never seen Gailet so worked up.

  As he scratched her back, his fingers encountered an object embedded in the fur … something round, thin, disk-like. “I think there’s a knot of hair, back there,” Gailet said quickly as he started to pull it free. “Be careful, Fiben.”

  “Uh, okay.” He bent over. “Um, you’re right. It’s a knot all right. I’m gonna have to work this out with my teeth.”

  Her back trembled and her aroma was sweaty as he brought his face close. Just as I thought. A message capsule! As his eye came even with it, a tiny holographic projector came alight. The beam entered his iris and automatically adjusted to focus on his retina.

  There were just a few, simple lines of text. What he read, however, made him blink in surprise. It was a document written in his own name!

  STATEMENT OF WHY I AM DOING THIS: RECORDED BY LUTENANT FIBEN BOLGER, NEOCHIMPANZEE.

  ALTHOUGH IVE BEEN WELL TREATED SINCE BEING CAPTURED, AND I APPRECIATE THE KIND ATTENTION IVE BEEN GIVEN, IM AFRAID I JUST HAVE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE. THERES STILL A WAR GOING ON, AND ITS MY DUTY TO ESCAPE IF I CAN.

  IN TRYING TO ESCAPE I DONT MEAN ANY INSULT TO THE SUZERAIN OF PROPRIETY OR THE CLAN OF THE GUBRU. ITS JUST THAT IM LOYAL TO THE HUMANS AND MY CLAN. THAT MAKES THIS SOMETHING I JUST HAVE TO DO.

  Below the text was an area that pulsed redly, as if expectantly. Fiben blinked. He pulled back a little and the message disappeared.

  Of course he knew about records such as this. All he had to do was look at the red spot, and earnestly will it, and the disk would record his assent, along with his retinal pattern. The document would be at least as binding as a signature on some piece of paper.

  Escape! The very thought made Fiben’s heart race faster. But … now?

  He had not failed to notice that the record mentioned only his name. If Gailet had intended to go with him, she surely would have included herself.

  And even if it were possible, would it be the right thing to do? He had apparently been chosen by the Suzerain of Propriety to be Gailet’s partner in an enterprise as complex and potentially hazardous as any in the history of their race. How could Fiben desert her at a time like this?

  He brought his eye close and read the message again, thinking furiously.

  When did Gailet ever have a chance to write this? Was she in contact with elements of the Resistance somehow?

  Also, something about the text struck Fiben as wrong. It wasn’t just the misspellings and less than erudite grammar. Just at a glance, Fiben could think of several improvements the statement badly needed if it was to do any good at all.

  Of course. Someone other than Gailet must have written it, and she was just passing it on for him to read!

  “Sylvie came in a while ago,” Gailet said. “We groomed each other. She had trouble with the same knot.”

  Sylvie! So. No wonder the chimmie had been so nervous, earlier.

  Fiben considered carefully, trying to reassemble a puzzle. Sylvie must have planted the disk on Gailet.… No, she must have worn it herself, let Gailet read it, and then transferred it to Gailet’s fur with her permission.

  “Maybe I was wrong about Sylvie,” Gailet continued. “She strikes me as a rather nice chimmie after all. I’m not sure how dependable she is, but my guess is she’s pretty solid, down deep.”

  What was Gailet telling him now? That this wasn’t her idea at all but Sylvie’s? Gailet would have had to consider the other chimmie’s proposition without being able to speak aloud at all. She would not even be able to give Fiben any advice. Not out in the open, at least.

  “It’s a tough knot,” Fiben said, leaving a patch of wet fur as he sat back. “I’ll try again in a minute.”

  “That’s all right. Take your time. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

  He combed through another area, near her right shoulder, but Fiben’s thoughts were far from there.

  Come on, think, he chided himself.

  But it was all so damn murky! The Suzerain’s fancy test equipment must have been on the fritz when the technicians selected him as an “advanced” neo-chimp. At that moment Fiben felt far from being anyone’s sterling example of a sapient being.

  Okay, he concentrated. So I’m being offered a chance to escape. First off, is it valid?

  For one thing, Sylvie could be a plant. Her offer could be a trap.

  But that didn’t make any sense! For one thing, Fiben had never given his parole, never agreed not to run away, if he ever got the chance. In fact, as a Terragens officer it was his duty to do so, especially if he could do it politely, satisfying Galactic punctilio.

  Actually, accepting the offer might be considered the correct answer. If this were yet another Gubru test, his proper response might be to say yes. It could satisfy the inscrutable ETs … show them he understood a client’s duti
es.

  Then again, the offer might be for real. Fiben remembered Sylvie’s agitation earlier. She had been very friendly toward him the last few weeks, in ways a chen would hate to think were just playacting.

  Okay. But if it’s for real, how does she plan to pull it off?

  There was only one way to find out, and that was by asking her. Certainly, any escape would have to involve fooling the surveillance system. Perhaps there was a way to do that, but Sylvie would only be able to use it one time. Once he and Gailet started asking open questions aloud, the decision would already have to be made.

  So what I’m really deciding is whether to tell Sylvie, “Okay, let’s hear your plan.” If I say yes, I had better be ready to go.

  Yeah, but go where?

  There was only one answer, of course. Up to the mountains, to report to Athaclena and Robert all he had learned. That meant getting out of Port Helenia, as well as this jail.

  “The Soro tell a story,” Gailet said in a low voice. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed almost relaxed as he rubbed her shoulder. “They tell about a certain Paha warrior, back when the Paha were still being uplifted. Would you like to hear it?”

  Puzzled Fiben nodded. “Sure, tell me about it, Gailet.”

  “Okay. Well, you’ve surely heard of the Paha. They’re tough fighters, loyal to their Soro patrons. Back then they were coming along nicely in the tests given by the Uplift Institute. So one day the Soro decide to give em some responsibility. Sent a group of them to guard an emissary to the Seven Spin Clans.”

  “Seven Spin … Uh, they’re a machine civilization, right?”

  “Yes. But they aren’t outlaws. They’re one of the few machine cultures who’ve joined Galactic society as honorary members. They keep mostly out of the way by sticking to high-density spiral arm areas, useless to both oxygen and hydrogen breathers.”

  What’s she getting at? Fiben wondered.

  “Anyway, the Soro Ambassador is dickering with the high muckity mucks of the Seven Spinners when this Paha scout detects something out at the edge of the local system and goes to investigate.

  “Well, as luck would have it, he comes upon the scene to find one of the Seven Spinners’ cargo vessels under attack by rogue machines.”

  “Berserkers? Planet busters?”

  Gailet shuddered. “You read too much science fiction, Fiben. No, just outlaw robots looking for loot. Anyway, when our Paha scout gets no answer to his calls for instructions, he decides to take some initiative. He dives right in, guns blazing.”

  “Let me guess, he saved the cargo ship.”

  She nodded. “Sent the rogues flying. The Seven Spinners were grateful, too. The reward turned a questionable business deal into a profit for the Soro.”

  “So he was a hero.”

  Gailet shook her head. “No. He went home in disgrace, for acting on his own without guidance.” “Crazy Eatees,” Fiben muttered.

  “No, Fiben.” She touched his knee. “It’s an important point. Encouraging initiative in a new client race is fine, but during sensitive Galactic-level negotiations? Do you trust a bright child with a fusion power plant?”

  Fiben understood what Gailet was driving at. The two of them were being offered a deal that sounded very sweet for Earth—on the surface, at least. The Suzerain of Propriety was offering to finance a major Ceremony of Acceptance for neo-chimps. The Gubru would end their policy of obstructing humanity’s patron status and cease all hostilities against Terra. All the Suzerain seemed to want in exchange was for Fiben and Gailet to tell the Five Galaxies, by hyperspacial shunt, what great guys the Gubru were.

  It sounded like a face-saving gesture for the Suzerain of Propriety, and a major coup for Earthkind.

  But, Fiben wondered, did he and Gailet have the right to make such a decision? Might there be ramifications beyond what they could figure out for themselves? Potentially deadly ramifications?

  The Suzerain of Propriety had told them that there were reasons why they weren’t allowed to consult with human leaders, out on the island detention camps. Its rivalry with the other Suzerains was reaching a critical phase, and they might not approve of how much it was planning on giving away. The Suzerain of Propriety needed surprise in order to outmaneuver them and present a fait accompli.

  Something struck Fiben as odd about that logic. But then, aliens were alien by definition. He couldn’t imagine any Terran-based society operating in such a way.

  So was Gailet telling him that they should pull out of the ceremony? Fine! As far as Fiben was concerned, she could decide. After all, they only had to say no … respectfully, of course.

  Gailet said. “The story doesn’t end there.”

  “There’s more?”

  “Oh, yes, A few years later the Seven Spin Clans came forward with evidence that the Paha warrior really had made every effort to call back for instructions before beginning his intervention, but subspace conditions had prevented any message from getting through.”

  “So?”

  “So that made all the difference to the Soro! In one case he was taking responsibility he didn’t merit. In the other he was only doing the best he could!

  “The scout was exonerated, posthumously, and his heirs were granted advanced Uplift rights.”

  There was a long silence. Neither of them spoke as Fiben thought carefully. Suddenly it was all clear to him.

  It’s the effort that counts. That’s what she means. It’d be unforgivable to cooperate with the Suzerain without at least trying to consult with our patrons. I might fail, probably will fail, but I must try.

  “Let’s take a look at that knot again.” He bent over, brought his eye close to the message capsule. Again the lines of text appeared, along with the pulsing red spot. Fiben looked right at the expectant blob and thought hard.

  I agree to this.

  The patch changed color at once, signifying his assent. Now what? Fiben wondered as he sat back.

  His answer came a moment later, when the door opened quietly. Sylvie entered, wearing the same ankle-length dress as before. She sat down in front of them.

  “Surveillance is off. I’m feeding the cameras a tape loop. It ought to work for at least an hour before their computer gets suspicious.”

  Fiben plucked the disk out of Gailet’s fur and she held out her hand for it. “Give me a minute,” Gailet whispered, and hurried over to her personal datawell to drop the capsule inside. “No offense, Sylvie, but the wording needs improvement. Fiben can initial my changes.”

  “I’m not offended. I knew you’d have to fix it up. I just wanted it to be clear enough for you two to understand what I was offering.”

  It was all happening so fast. And yet Fiben felt the adrenaline already starting to sing in his veins. “So I’m going?”

  “We’re going,” Sylvie corrected. “You and me. I’ve got supplies stashed, disguises, and a route out of town.”

  “Are you with the underground, then?”

  She shook her head. “I’d like to join, of course, but this is strictly my own show. I … I’m doing this for a price.”

  “What is it you want?”

  Sylvie shook her head, indicating she would wait for Gailet to return. “ ‘If you two agree to take the chance, I’ll go back outside and call in the night guard. I picked him out carefully and worked hard to get Irongrip to assign him duty tonight.”

  “What’s so special about that guy?”

  “Maybe you noticed, that Probationer looks a lot like you, Fiben, and he’s got a similar build. Close enough to fool the spy-comps in the dark for a while, I’d guess.”

  So that was why that chen at the gate had looked so familiar! Fiben speculated concisely. “Drug him. Leave him with Gailet while I sneak out in his clothes, using his pass.”

  “There’s a lot more to it, believe me.” Sylvie looked nervous, exhausted. “But you get the general idea. He and I both go off shift in twenty minutes. So it’s got to be before then.”

  Gailet retur
ned. She handed the pellet to Fiben. He held it up to one eye and read the revised text carefully, not because he planned to criticize Gailet’s work, but so he would be able to recite it word for word if he ever did make it back to Athaclena and Robert.

  Gailet had entirely rewritten the message.

  STATEMENT OF INTENT: RECORDED BY FIBEN BOLGER, A-CHIM-AB-HUMAN, CLIENT CITIZEN OF THE TERRAGENS FEDERATION AND RESERVE LIEUTENANT, GARTH COLONIAL DEFENSE FORCE.

  I ACKNOWLEDGE THE COURTESY I HAVE BEEN SHOWN DURING MY IMPRISONMENT, AND AM COGNIZANT OF THE KIND ATTENTION GIVEN ME BY THE EXALTED AND RESPECTED SUZERAINS OF THE GREAT CLAN OF THE GUBRU. NEVERTHELESS, I FIND THAT MY DUTY AS A COMBATANT IN THE PRESENT WAR BETWEEN MY LINE AND THAT OF THE GUBRU COMPELS ME TO RESPECTFULLY REFUSE FURTHER CONFINEMENT, HOWEVER COURTEOUS.

  IN ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE, I IN NO WAY SPURN THE HONOR GRANTED ME BY THE EXALTED SUZERAIN, IN CONSIDERING ME FOR THE STATUS OF RACE-REPRESENTATIVE. BY CONTINUING HONORABLE RESISTANCE TO THE GUBRU OCCUPATION OF GARTH, I HOPE THAT I AM BEHAVING AS SUCH A CLIENT-SOPHONT SHOULD, IN PROPER OBEDIENCE TO THE WILL OF MY PATRONS.

  I ACT NOW IN THE TRADITIONS OF GALACTIC SOCIETY, AS BEST I HAVE BEEN GIVEN TO UNDERSTAND THEM.

  Yeah. Fiben had learned enough under Gailet’s tutelage to see how much better this version was. He registered his assent again, and once more the recording spot changed color. Fiben handed the disk back to Gailet.

  What matters is that we try, he told himself, knowing how forlorn this venture certainly was.

  “Now.” Gailet turned to Sylvie. “What is this fee you spoke of? What is it you want?”

  Sylvie bit her lip. She faced Gailet, but pointed at Fiben. “Him,” she said quickly. “I want you to share him with me.”

  “What?” Fiben started to get up, but Gailet shushed him with a quick gesture. “Explain,” she asked Sylvie.

  Sylvie shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what kind of marriage arrangement the two of you had.”

  “We don’t have any!” Fiben said, hotly. “And what business—”