by Sarah Zettel
Uncle Ahmet frowned deeply. “She said ‘may it go easily.’ She was bidding me good-bye as I went to address the Management Union assembly. She and your father were dead in a monorail accident that was never proved to be sabotage by the time I got back. Katmer, what is going on?”
“Uncle Ahmet, I am given to understand that you know of the secret mandate for the Fool’s Guild.” Her voice was completely calm. She might have been discussing a dinner menu. She might not have felt the burn inside her. She might not have known her husband was gone, wiped away to make room for an AI.
Uncle Ahmet frowned deeply and leaned forward. “Katmer, what has that to do with anything?”
“Everything, Uncle.” She folded her hands in front of her. “I have received new, and I believe sound, information about the Guild. The Guild members themselves are not really Human, Uncle Ahmet. They are bodies inhabited by the AIs that have become independently sapient and which were rescued by their own kind from Human attack. This organization has bred a faction, a breakaway guild, if you like, which plans to attack the Intersystem Bank Network and randomize the financial account data for the entire Solar System. I wished to inform you of this at once.”
For the first time in her life, Al Shei saw Uncle Ahmet shaken. The blood drained from his high-boned cheeks and his gaze faltered. The sight stabbed at her and almost made a crack in the calm that covered her.
“You are sure of what you say, Katmer? You believe it to be true?”
“Yes, Uncle,” she replied firmly. “I believe it to be true.”
His shoulders squared themselves and the firm control that characterized him returned to his face. “Then I shall alert my colleagues. You will be returning home by week’s end, Katmer?”
“Yes, Uncle. I will. Salam.” She closed the line down.
That isn’t a lie, you know, Uncle. She thought toward the screen. One way or another, I will be returning home by week’s end.
She knew exactly what to do. She saw it all laid out before her like it was a schematic on a memory board. All she had to do now was wait until the bystanders were out of the way.
All at once, the bathroom door slammed open.
“What are you doing!” Resit stormed into the cabin. “Have you lost your mind!”
Al Shei blinked heavily. “How much did Schyler tell you?” she asked.
“Enough.” Resit stood right in her line of vision. Tears stood in her eyes and against her cheeks. “Name of God, Katmer! He told me this Curran… this thing has killed Asil!”
Al Shei stood up. The day book recorder still lay on the floor. “He’s done worse than that.” She picked it up. “He’s taken his mind away. His heart still beats. His body still breathes.”
Resit watched her, disbelief building in her eyes. “And you’re going to try to do something about it, aren’t you? That’s why you’re paying off the crew?”
“Yes.” Al Shei opened the drawer beside the desk and laid the recorder inside it.
“So, I repeat my original question. Have you lost your mind!”
Al Shei slammed the drawer and whirled around to face her cousin. “What would you have me do? Ha? What? They have taken my husband!”
“Alert the Landlords, you donkey-headed… ”
Al Shei gripped the back of the desk chair. “Zubedeye, if the alarm goes up, they’ll get away. They’re AIs! It’s what they’re good at! There will be a fire, or explosive decompression in that module and by the time emergency services gets in there, they’ll all be gone.”
Resit stared at her. “You want revenge. That is what this is.”
Al Shei shrugged.
“This is haram, Katmer. This is forbidden.”
“Then I will account for it at Judgement Day.” Al Shei turned away.
Resit grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her around. “You are acting like a crazy throwback, Katmer!” She threw up both hands. “Maybe next we can find a Greek for you to slit open!”
“I don’t care,” said Al Shei thickly, in that frightening instant, she realized she meant it.
“What about your children?”
Al Shei lifted her eyes to meet her cousin’s and she knew all her fury shone in them.
“Oh, yes,” she hissed. “There we are. You, Mother, how can you put yourself in danger? You have children! So tell me, Fount of Wisdom that you are, what am I supposed to say to these children of mine?” She swept both hands out. “That I knew where their father was and I didn’t try to get to him? That I knew what was being done to him and I did not even try to stop it?” Her voice dropped, low and vibrant and filled with rage. “If I die, my children will be looked after, but if I do not do this thing, I will never be able to look at them again.” She drew herself up. “You are right. This is forbidden. It is revenge and it is anger and I will make an answer for it to Allah Himself, but first I will make an answer to that monstrosity that has taken my husband!”
Resit’s hands dropped to her sides. She bowed her head and pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “Qul a’udhu birabbin nas. Malikin nas. Ilahin nas. Min sharril waswasil khannas. Alladhi yuwaswisu fi sudurinnas. Minal jinnati wannas.” Say, I seek refuge in the Lord of mankind, the King of mankind, the God of mankind, from the mischief of the sneaking whisperer, who whispers in the hearts of mankind from among jinn and mankind. She raised her chin again. “So what do you need me for?”
Al Shei felt the strength in her knees begin to give out. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten, and for the past two nights she had done nothing but stare at the ceiling while she was supposed to be sleeping. She sat down heavily in the desk chair.
“I need you to go sign on with Tully as his lawyer. That way, anything he says to you can be called privileged, just like anything I say to you. I need you to find out from him how to breach Port Oberon security from the Pasadena. I don’t need any alarms going off when I go after that thing calling itself Curran.”
Jump.
Dobbs plowed down the repeater’s lines, not even trying to hide herself. She didn’t want to hide. She wanted someone, anyone, to find her as fast as they could, as long as they were from the Guild.
That was the problem. That was her fear. She had no idea where Curran had placed his “talents.” Anyone of them might be following in her wake right now, having jumped in right after her. It might be straining to catch up with her. What would she do then? Would she be able to kill one of them? She’d been ready to kill Curran once, but was she ready to kill someone who believed in him because the Guild had let them all down?
I don’t know. I don’t want to know.
Set the coordinates. Send the ping-copy to the receiver. Jump. Hit the lines in repeater #4259AH-IBN2481-H2, four minutes, three point nine seconds gone. Head for the transmitter.
“Dobbs!” A cry reached her. Dobbs stiffened involuntarily before she realized she knew the voice. Cyril Cohen. Of course it would be Cohen, she thought with nearly hysterical relief. He would have been searching for her for days.
He filled the path in front of her. She drove herself straight into him. Too shocked to resist, his inner self broke apart for her. She snatched up segments of memory and twisted them. When she withdrew, he knew all that had happened since Curran had taken her to his home.
“No,” he whispered and she thought they’d both melt from the fear that coursed through them.
“I’ve got to get to Guild Hall.” She tried to fill him with her urgency. It wasn’t needed. He had plenty of his own.
“Straight to the Guild Masters.” He was already flying. She darted after him, drew up beside him and touched his outer self. Linked together they almost blocked the repeater’s paths. They were delaying a million packets a second, but they didn’t care. If they didn’t get through, there would be nothing left to save or worry about. They both believed that.
Jump. Repeater 78140-HN-IBN2401-J8. Two more minutes gone.
What’s been happening? she asked him through their link.
Would they be willing to help us hold the network against Curran’s talents?
That’s what I’m hoping, Dobbs. That’s what I’m hoping.
Jump. Another repeater surrounded them.
Dobbs was silent as they raced for the transmitter, but she couldn’t keep her disquiet from reaching Cohen. Wordlessly, he urged her to share her thought.
You’d better go get them together, just in case the Guild Masters… won’t go along with this.
Cohen’s pace faltered for a bare instant. You’re right. Have you got enough time to… he stopped himself. Of course, you’ve got all the time we need, don’t you?
I hope so. She steeled herself. Get everyone you can and get to the XK350 repeaters. If I’m not there in five hours then… then I’m not coming and you’ll have to go in with what you’ve got. She touched his memory and left the location of Curran’s module with him.
She pulled away and didn’t even leave him any time to wish her luck. Every picosecond was precious right now. Curran might have moved up the timing of the randomizer matrices even farther. He might have decided to put off randomizing the bank accounts, and just take down Port Oberon in order to prevent Al Shei from causing any more trouble. He could be doing anything, and she wouldn’t find out about any of it until she got back there.
Yerusha jerked her spare clothes out of their drawer and stuffed them into her satchel. Fractured, crazy, groundhugging idiots! She threw down the last pair of socks and stared at the rumpled pile she’d made. What am I going to do now? She rubbed her face. After word about this run gets out, I’m not going to be able to get a job on a sewage ship, even if the greens don’t pick me up for having made idiots out of them last time I was here.
A day ago, a whole new world had opened up for her. She had rushed toward it and tripped over her own feet. Now she was so crippled, she couldn’t even move, couldn’t even tell anybody what she’d seen. Her face and eyes burned with loss.
Her desk chimed. Yerusha whipped around and saw the notice that Schyler was waiting outside written on the boards.
What’s he want now? She stomped across the room, almost lifting herself off the floor in the light gravity, and slapped her palm against the reader.
She stood back and let Schyler cross the threshold. He had his hands stuffed into his pockets as far as they would go. Yerusha felt her back stiffen. If you ask me to understand what’s going on Watch, you’re going to get your head taken off, so help me.
He settled his gaze on her and pulled his hands out of his pockets. “Yerusha, I need your help.”
“Why?” She turned away and, needlessly, began rummaging through her satchel, flattening the pile of clothing and accessories inside so she could close the bag more easily. “Half hour ago you fired me.”
“A half hour ago, I fired everybody.” He shrugged. “Given the situation, I don’t think it was such a bad idea. We’re about to get in so far over our heads we’re risking pressure sickness. I was wondering if you’d be willing to come with us.” He paused. “Even after I fired you in front of witnesses.”
Yerusha just looked up and waited. For the first time, she saw the hard light glinting in Schyler’s eyes.
“It’s looking like Curran’s AIs have kidnapped and murdered Asil Tamruc,” he said.
His words hit Yerusha like physical blows. She staggered away from him, catching herself against the edge of her desk. “What? Why? Why would they do that?”
“Off-hand I’d say to try to throw Al Shei’s family into confusion before the AIs attack the Intersystem Banking Network.”
The last of the strength went out of Yerusha and she collapsed into the desk chair. This was wrong. This was completely wrong. Why were they doing this? Why weren’t they coming to the Freers?
Because the Freers are humans, she answered herself. We believe the AIs are too, but they don’t. Perspective, you see, is important.
Schyler sat down on the edge of the bunk and leaned toward her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and forced her gaze back to his face.
“Al Shei is planning a strike against the AIs. She’s going to need help.”
“A strike?” Yerusha shook her head, trying to clear the fog her thoughts had become. “To do what?”
Schyler looked away for a moment. When he looked back, his face had deep lines etched into it, as if he had aged ten years in that moment. “I believe Al Shei is about to orchestrate some sort of revenge, and if that’s the case, I’m going to need help making sure she lives through it.”
“You said the AIs are going to attack the network?” Yerusha’s mind wasn’t quite keeping up. Ideas sank in slowly, as if forcing their way through cold oil.
Schyler just nodded. “As near as I can tell they’re acting as crazy as their creators ever did.” He pulled his fists out of his pockets. “We talked to somebody who was probably Dobbs. She said Curran’s planning on randomizing the credit exchanges. They’ll completely destroy the currency base if no one does anything.” He swallowed hard. “Yerusha, if this is true, if they are going to do this, if they take apart the currency base, there’s going to be anarchy. The strongest survivors will dictate terms to the rest of us. I’ve lived like that. I don’t ever want to again.” His eyes were clear and his voice was steady. “The Free Home is not completely self-sufficient. There’s no telling who’s prices you’ll have to pay for your fuel and your organics if the currency goes, or who will be willing to trade with you.”
Yerusha felt her back stiffen.
“I believe Al Shei’s ultimate intent is to help save the banks. I’m going to help her. I’m asking you to help me.”
Yerusha turned away. She couldn’t look at his steady brown eyes. He’s just a groundhugger at heart, she told herself. He doesn’t understand anything. They’re our freedom. Freedom from death, freedom from the endless, meaningless cycle of sprout and decay. We can’t attack them. We need to talk to them. We have to convince them they are part of us.
But they don’t want to be, said another voice in her mind.
At that moment, the Free Home seemed very far away and it receded even as she reached toward it. Only recent truth remained. Foster had been destroyed by its own kind. Dobbs had literally run away from her attempt to help. Now, Schyler was asking for her help to preserve the network, to preserve the Free Home’s freedom.
And if the Fellows found out she had taken up sides against living AIs, she might just be exiled for good.
But at least they’d still be free to level sentence against her.
She swivelled the chair around to face the desk. “You said you’ve got connections on the Free Home justice council?” She yanked the drawer beside her desk open and pulled out a blank film.
“Yes.”
“All right.” She pulled out her pen. “There’s a hard-goods shuttle from here to the Free Home. Leaves from bay 22 once every three hours.” She glanced at the clock in the desk. “We should just be able to catch it. Get this film to your contacts, make sure they get told I used the emergency encryptions on it.”
She scribbled down the emergency commands. It was an idea the Freers had cribbed from the banks. Every Free Home had a set of codes that could get an emergency message straight through to the Senior Guard. Even exiled citizens. Sometimes exiles has warnings about neighbors planning mischief against the Free Home. Sometimes they heard about wildfire strikes by fanatics that might get Fellows hurt. Those messages were accepted into the Free Ho
me, even if the exiles were left outside. If a message worked to the good of the Free Home, the exile might just be brought home early.
Yerusha had sometimes wondered if the real reason behind punishment by exile was to create a cheap spy network.
She started to write.
I am Exile Jemina Yerusha. I have news of a threat to the Free Home.
There is a group of sapient AIs planning to attack the Intersystem Banking Network and destroy the credit base. The Free Homes will be left without means of trade if they succeed. They are rejecting the idea they’re human souls. They are actively hostile to us. I tried to report the fact of sapient AIs with independent existences to Sergeant Wheeler. You can get additional details from him.
The network transactions need to be recorded and stored on a hard medium. We’ve got to spread the word through the Free Homes, and we’ve got to do it now.
The Free Homes can either help Settled Space, or we can go down with the rest of it. And when it goes down, you can either have passed the message on, or let it lie.
Fellow Jemina Yerusha, Free Home Titania.
End message.
The film absorbed the text into its chip. It would not spill it out again until someone’s pen downloaded the proper code keys.
She folded the blank film and handed it over to Schyler, who had been reading over her shoulder. “Anything else?”
Schyler let out a long sigh of relief. A ghost of a smile even touched his mouth. “Stand by for now. I’ve got to get this to that shuttle. Then, I’ve got to convince Al Shei to let you help us. I’ll meet you down in the market place in the Henry V module, all right? At Harry Trader’s. Harry knows me, he’ll give us somewhere quiet to talk.”
“Harry Trader’s, right.” Yerusha nodded. “See you there.” She zipped her satchel shut and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll find a locker for this,” she told him before Schyler could say anything.
“Thank you.” He squeezed her arm gently and turned away fast enough to miss the startled look on her face.