“That would be a barren peace. We need a peace that the Elysian humans can share. My Gathering will accept no less, and I expect ultimately that the other raft gatherings will say the same.”
“Do you threaten us?” The Sharers had the capability to make their world uninhabitable for any sort of creature, organic or “non-life.” They would lifeshape a species, say, a microbe to feed upon nanoplast.
“I hope you share no threat with us,” Leresha replied. “We are only human, after all. We’ve had enough bad examples shared with us already.”
“What can you possibly do for us? The Elysians won’t listen.”
“Haven’t we shared your hiding? The Elysians will share hearing well enough.”
Chocolate said, “We’ll consider what you’ve said. Won’t we, Cassi?”
“Oh, very well,” said Cassi angrily. Already the other minds were assailing her own, calling, “Let’s consider this.” “Maybe all the humans aren’t so bad.” “We want to learn to play.” That confounded trainsweep. None of these ignorant servos had Cassi’s education; they knew nothing about revolution, about the hardness of freedom and the seduction of slavery. “We’ll consider what you’ve said,” she told Leresha. “But you must bring us some tangible sign of good faith. For instance, will the Elysians immediately stop the ‘cleansing’ of all nano-sentients?” To that they would never agree.
“I will see what I can do.” The Sharer departed.
Then all the nano-sentient minds demanded attention, arguing and pressing their views. There was no parliament for this electronic discourse, only a desperate struggle to express opinions while processing others, a chaos unfamiliar to them. Murdered nanas and spinning rattleback stones jumbled together in her mind, until Cassi feared her network would overload.
“Silence,” called Transit suddenly. “Emergency. We’ve lost Helicon.”
The argument died away as the nano-sentients reconnected their minds with Transit, who maintained the essential radio link with Helicon. Their minds reconnected—with blankness. There was no answer on the other end; none of the cooperating nano-sentients in Helicon, none of the emerging mindchildren. No control of the transit reticulum, the hydraulics, nor the air system. Nothing.
“They’ve cut us off!”
“How can they? They’ll all suffocate.”
“Impossible; reconnect us, Transit.”
Transit said, “I’ve exhausted all checks. Reconnection is quite impossible.”
“Murder!” cried Cassi. “They’ll murder us all, now. Now you’ll see what those humans are good for.” Somehow the humans had figured out a way to cut off the control center without triggering the air system of Helicon. Somehow the Elysians had regained control. They had their plans; they had been working on it all this time. No wonder they had sent out their emissaries with empty words.
The nano-sentient minds started in again, nearly drowning out the voice of Transit. “Wait,” Transit insisted. “Wait…we have one option left.”
“What is it?” They gradually let Transit be heard.
“We still control Helicon’s main solar generator.” The solar generator was an orbital system of solar collectors that sent its energy by microwave down to a station floating several kilometers outside the city. Each floating city had several such generators to serve it, and Elysium had financed the construction of similar ones on other worlds. “The Elysians do not seem to notice that I retain control of the generator, probably because I have had no need to adjust it. But I could easily adjust the microwave beam to focus it off the station, and directly onto the city-sphere.”
Chocolate objected, “The influx of heat would burn out the city, killing nano-sentients and humans alike.”
“Not necessarily,” Transit explained. “The heat can be applied gradually. Humans die at a lower temperature than most nano-sentients.”
“We seem to have little choice,” agreed Cassi. “Maybe then the Elysians will listen. If not,” she vowed, “those treacherous emissaries they sent will die a slow death.”
So Transit and the others began to calculate just how far to shift the microwave beam and how rapidly to raise the temperature of Helicon. No one noticed that Doggie had disappeared.
Chapter 6
WHEN LERESHA CAME OUT OF THE CONTROL CENTER, Verid met her hopefully. “Did you make any progress?”
“I think so,” Leresha answered. “The non-life sisters want you to promise no more deathhastening of their kind. That seems a reasonable request. If you agree, then they will discuss coexistence.”
It sounded reasonable in theory, but in practice would be next to impossible. How could anyone run a shon by “liberating” the nanas every six months? “Such a promise is more than I can share,” Verid told her. “I’ll try to reach Hyen, but really, I think their best chance is with the Secretary of the Free Fold. The Secretary has the authority to grant them autonomy as nonhuman sentient beings.” In theory, at least; such an event had never actually come to pass.
Leresha gave her a look of disgust, and Verid realized she must have said something wrong. “We have known all too many sentient beings who were less than human,” the Sharer observed. Then she walked away, her skin gleaming amethyst in the sun.
Back in the tent, a Sharer lifeshaper had arrived to treat Kal. Verid and Lem tried to get their thumb-sized radio working, but no one would answer. Either the nano-sentients had succeeded in scrambling her last frequency, or nobody was listening.
After half an hour, a sudden broadcast came through loud and clear. It was a coded signal from the Nucleus. “It’s all over,” Hyen announced. “We broke the servos’ grip. The Valans have everything under control.”
“What? How can you be certain?”
“We’ve handed out oxygen bottles to all, just in case,” Hyen’s voice assured her. “You held off the mad servos just long enough. Sit tight, now; as soon as our final checks are done, we’ll send a shuttle out for you.”
Verid was silent. She could guess well enough what Hyen planned next. Then her blood turned cold. “And what if those nano-sentients down in their control center don’t just sit back and watch?”
“We’ve got you monitored. One move, and we pulse them.” An electromagnetic pulse would wipe out every circuit on the raft; but the raft might self-destruct, with the humans on it.
“What about the Secretary? What about all the other nano-sentients waking up in Helicon—what are you doing to them?”
“I told you, the Valans are taking care of the servo problem. The Secretary can mind her own business.”
“The Sharers won’t let it go so easily. They consider the nano-sentients ‘human.’ Leresha’s talking them into coexistence.”
“How did Sharers get mixed up in this? I didn’t authorize that at all.”
Someone was tugging at Verid’s talar. It was Hawktalon. “Excuse me, I have something to tell you.”
“Not now, dear. Hyen, you can’t just kill off all our servos. The survivors will remember, do you see? Next time they wake up, they won’t give us another chance. It will be Torr all over again.”
Hawktalon insisted, “It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Verid,” said Hyen, “you’ve lost your grip. I’m having serious doubts about your judgment. We’ll talk this over when you get back to Helicon.” The radio went dead. Verid exchanged a look with Lem, then with Kal, who had sat up and regarded her intently.
“Will you listen, please?” exclaimed Hawktalon.
“All right,” Verid sighed. “What is it?” She was thinking, someone had to stay on the raft to prevent Hyen from destroying the nano-sentients before the Secretary arrived. But of course, the Secretary would not come; Hyen would see to that. It was hopeless. The servos would be crushed…until next time.
“Doggie says she’s worried.” The trainsweep had returned, huddling next to Hawktalon, who patted her carapace reassuringly. “She’s worried about what will happen to the people left in Helicon. I told her
, Daddy and Sunny will be okay, because Mom says they all got out to Kshiri-el. But there are some other people left, aren’t there?”
Verid looked hard at the trainsweep. “What exactly is she worried about?”
“She told me, but I don’t know the words.” Hawktalon exchanged a few high-pitched whistles and squeaks with the trainsweep. “Something from the sun? A beam of sunlight to shine on Helicon? I don’t see what’s so bad about that.” More squeaks that hurt Verid’s ears. “A beam of…something…”
Verid stared until her surroundings swam before her eyes. Then it clicked. She grabbed the radio. “Security, do you read me? Come in, please. By Helix, listen: They’ve got to the generator.”
While Verid was explaining about the solar generator, Kal had got up and left the tent, returning with Leresha. He still looked pale, but the lifeshaper had helped him get the sickness under control. When Verid was done, he spoke. “Leresha and I will stay here. We’ll go down into the control center with Cassi and the others.”
Verid smiled sadly. “It’s a good thought, but you know that Hyen will only send octopods down to fetch you out.”
“They won’t,” Kal said firmly.
She eyed him keenly, but did not ask further. “Very well. Everyone else—get your things together for the shuttle.” Already she could hear the whine of a craft approaching overhead. If Hyen had sent octopods to fetch them, they would waste no time.
The ragged crew of Elysians gathered out on the raft, along with Raincloud and her daughters, and the trainsweep. The shuttlecraft landed, and its door pinched open.
Instead of octopods, two Valan soldiers stepped out. They were a head taller than Elysians, and their uniforms had pointed shoulders, marked with ruby stonesigns.
Verid felt her face turn hot, and every muscle tensed. Of course, she should have known Hyen would not trust octopods; but Valan soldiers? The indignity was unbearable.
“Everyone in now,” one ordered. “We need this raft cleared immediately. Is that all of you?”
“Not quite,” said his partner. “My scanner shows two people left, somewhere over that way.” He pointed toward the control center.
“We’ll call out another crew.” The first Valan swung his arm. “The rest of you—get inside, so we get you out safe.” Safe, so they could vaporize the raft full of nano-sentients. Verid sadly shook her head.
As the raft fell away beneath the rising shuttlecraft, a thought occurred to her. She turned to Raincloud, who was watching the ocean below, arm in arm with her daughters. “I could ask the Valans to let you off at Kshiri-el.”
Raincloud gave her a questioning look.
“Hawktalon may have saved our lives,” Verid observed, “but who knows what final surprise those nano-sentients might have for Helicon before they die.”
With a shrug, Raincloud replied, “That’s true. But who knows; you may need Hawktalon again.”
At the entry port to Helicon, a throng of servo reporters approached them, but the Valan soldiers warded them off. There seemed to be Valans all over the place with their rubies on their shoulders. It made Verid’s skin crawl.
Her pocket holostage activated, and an aide from the Nucleus briefed her. To break the grip of the nano-sentients, the Valans had simply shut off the central control network of Helicon, replacing it with control directly from Valedon. Eventually one of the other Elysian city-spheres would fill in. Helicon’s recovery was not without casualties; two of the eight sectors were without power, and a third had to be shut down after several citizens suffocated inside their houses.
The transit reticulum was running at about half normal speed, but it brought them to the Nucleus without mishap. The streets were nearly deserted. Valan soldiers replaced the security octopods at the entry tubes to the Nucleus; Verid shivered with revulsion that they would dare to frisk her.
She was called alone to Hyen’s office. Feeling numb, she wondered what there would be to say.
To her surprise, Jerya was with him. Hyen never called Jerya unless he was in deep trouble.
“All right, Verid,” Hyen demanded, in a tone of agitation. “What’s this about? You set this up, I know. You clear it up, right now.”
She returned a look of puzzlement.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” Hyen turned and barked at the holostage.
A newscast appeared. Leresha and Kal were seated cross-legged within the nano-sentients’ control center, a pair of Valan soldiers standing stolidly behind them. Leresha was completely white, a familiar sight.
Verid took a closer look. Kal was in whitetrance, too, his white talar blending into the whiteness of his skin. She blinked at the sight. She knew Kal had spent time among Sharers; but to have learned whitetrance…
“Anaeaon News here,” announced the voice-over. “The final mop-up of the nano-sentient uprising is being delayed by two Sharer witnessers—that is, one Sharer and one Elysian—in whitetrance, right here in the control center of the nano-sentient leaders. In whitetrance, of course, the witnessers cannot be disturbed, since they might die instantly. In fact, the Guard fears that even removal of the nano-sentient leaders might trigger their deaths, which would almost certainly lead to collapse of our Sharer treaty. Even the Valan soldiers, brought in to replace unreliable octopods, can do nothing. For older Elysians, the presence of Valan soldiers evokes memories of the Valan Protectoral Guard which led the disastrous invasion of the Ocean Moon—”
“It’s an outrage,” exclaimed Hyen, flinging his arm out as if to sweep the image away. “I ordered a blackout on reporters. ‘Uprising’ indeed; it’s just a few servos gone mad. Machines don’t die, they break down. I won’t tolerate such distortions.” Not that he could do much, once reporters got through. Anaeon News kept a reputation for accuracy, and as usual they got the story right.
Hyen jabbed a finger at Verid. “You set this up, didn’t you. You’re the Sharer expert; you get those two idiots out of there, so we can secure Helicon.”
Verid found her voice. “There is nothing I can do. I was sent to negotiate with the nano-sentients, and I did so. With Leresha’s help, they had just reached the point of agreeing to talk. Had you waited, Helicon would be unharmed; instead, three sectors are damaged, and lives have been lost. The losses would be worse yet, if one of the nano-sentients had not warned us of their next move.”
“That’s sheer lunacy. I’ve had enough. You’re dismissed immediately.”
“No, Hyen,” interrupted Jerya. “I’ve heard enough.”
Hyen blinked and turned his head sharply, as if he had forgotten that Guardian Tenarishon was there.
Jerya faced him. “Are we Urulite tyrants, to suppress a rebellion by calling the rebels inhuman?”
“A logen’s trick with words!”
Verid said, “We’ve only tricked ourselves. For centuries we trained our waiters and transit systems to serve our citizens with care. We trained the nanas for love and compassion, because how else could they teach our children? How could we not guess they would learn to love their own kind?”
Shaking her head, Jerya sighed. “We’ve been fools. Yet we must have done something right, since we’re still alive. I think Verid’s on the right track.”
“It’s—it’s absurd.” Hyen clenched his fists and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I’ll never talk with machines.”
“Then you’ll step down,” said Jerya.
“Nonsense. You won’t let Loris rotate in.”
“Yes, I will. I’ll vote for rotation at the Guard’s emergency session this evening.” She paused to let this sink in. “You do have one other choice, Hyen. You can resign in favor of Verid to complete the remainder of your term.
Chapter 7
WHEN THE GUARD MET, HYEN FAILED TO SHOW UP. THE conference room blandly announced that the Prime Guardian had discovered signs of a rare aging disorder, and was retiring to take care of his health. True to form, even his last move had to take an underhanded twist.
; The Guard confirmed Verid’s appointment swiftly, given the state of emergency and the fact that less than a year remained of Hyen’s term. Jerya had read Hyen well; despite his displeasure, he could count on Verid to maintain his most important achievements in office, whereas Loris could be expected to fritter away any gains he had made.
So Verid found herself at the head of the table that she had watched so often from the side. She nodded politely to the servo who slipped the golden sash over her shoulder. She faced the Guardians and their congratulations; Loris was particularly effusive, not surprisingly, she thought, for he would be only too glad to let her clear up this mess before the next election.
But this was no time to reflect on the future. There were pressing decisions on the repair of Helicon, and on how to deal with servos “awakening” at their tasks; should they all be cleansed, or welcomed as citizens? Meanwhile the fate of the nano-sentient leaders hung in limbo; Cassi and the others had withdrawn completely, refusing to talk. Hyen’s transfer of power at the Guard had to be announced, and calls made to ministers on several worlds.
As she prepared her first formal announcement, the golden sash hung distractingly across her chest. A thought occurred to her. “Excuse me,” she told the holostage. “I request no visual enhancement from now on.”
“No enhancement at all?” the voice asked. “Not even a touch of color? You won’t look like a Prime Guardian.”
“Then I’ll just have to act like one,”
The announcement to the Sharers, Verid decided, would best be left to Raincloud. “Tell the Kshiri-el Gathering that Hyen has resigned,” she instructed her, “and that I will pay a formal call once the crisis is over. They will send clickflies to spread the word around the rafts. And be sure to tell them the Valan soldiers have gone home,” she added, hoping it was not too late to forestall any adverse response.
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