by Sarah Zettel
“Katmer?” Ruqaiyya’s voice sounded through the balcony intercom. Reflex made Al Shei want to answer “Engine here.” She caught herself just in time.
“What is it?”
“There’s a ‘Ster Matthew Havelock here to see you, Katmer. He’s a Guild Master for the Fools, he says.” Her voice was incredulous, as if she couldn’t believe anyone would admit to being any such thing.
“I know what he is, ‘Qai. Have somebody put him in the front room. I’ll come in.”
She straightened up and smoothed down her hijab. She was not upset. She was not even really surprised. That bothered some small part of her. She should have felt something more than this bland acceptance. She should have felt something more than this since she came back to Earth. But she’d stayed away from the news broadcasts and the votes and the endless, endless discussion of what the colony of AIs meant. At family dinners, she’d heard that an attack against the Guild Hall had been repelled by the Fools. The attack had been condemned by the Management Union and several major colonies who were already in negotiations with the Guild. Fools were still needed to keep trade functioning smoothly, it seemed, and the Guild was offering to train regular humans in exchange for being left in peace. She’d also heard that Uncle Ahmet’s absences from the supper table were caused by all-night strategy sessions as the Fools sent representatives directly to the banks to try to work out some sort of barter system. Uncle Ahmet was against it. He was reminding the boards about the death of his son-in-law.
None of it had touched her. None of it even interested her.
She drifted through the balcony air-lock and into the spacious front room. A neat, dark man with longish, straight hair stood in the middle of the low tables and divans. He wore a formal, high-collared white tunic and grey trousers.
“Good morning, Guild Master,” said Al Shei in English. “Please, sit down.” She gestured towards a divan and seated herself in front of the coffee table. She activated the memory board and sent an order down to the kitchen for the coffee cart.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me, ‘Dama.” Havelock sat. Al Shei reflected that Havelock was the first Fool she had ever seen look awkward without it being a deliberate act.
“Not at all, ‘Ster. I wasn’t busy.” She folded her hands in front of her.
“So I’d heard.” He rubbed his palms against the cushions on either side of him. “The Pasadena has been in dock for a month, and there have been no crew call-ups.”
“Yes, well, there have been a number of other things to attend to.” A real funeral for my husband, my children who have lost their father, my husband, who is gone, lost in a fire I had to set… she didn’t say any of that. She pushed the thoughts aside. If these thoughts got out there was no telling what they’d do to her.
“Yes.” Havelock got control of his hands and shifted himself so he was sitting straighter, more confidently, more like a Fool. “We were not…unaware of what had happened. We are sorry.” He looked at the floor. “I was not certain I would be let into your house.”
Al Shei shrugged. “If I knew what kind of vengeance I wanted, you probably wouldn’t have been.”
At that moment, the coffee cart trundled through the door and parked itself beside her. She pulled a pair of cups and saucers out of the drawer and drew two cups of coffee out of the urn. She handed one over to Havelock. He took it but didn’t drink.
Al Shei didn’t either. She set her cup on the table and stared at it.
“Things are going badly for us, ‘Dama,” said Havelock softly. “We have centuries of dealing with humans, governments and corporations even. We thought we could manage contract negotiations. What could the problem be? We’d been doing it for two hundred years.” He set his cup down across from hers. The steam rose from the two in thin streamers. “But that was always when we were favored partners with a commodity most people wanted. We aren’t used to being the enemy, at least not publicly.”
“It’s a difficult thing to get used to.” Al Shei shut the cart’s drawer and clicked the USED key so its side turned red. Someone would fill it up again when she sent it back to the kitchen. Probably Ruqaiyya. Uncle Ahmet was still discussing divorce proceedings for her and Tully. Ruqaiyya was still ignoring him. Some things, at least, had not changed.
“The Guild Masters held a special session and decided what we needed to do was contract some Humans to act as our ambassadors. To help deal with their fellows for us. Humans who were used to trade and negotiations with different cultures, who were perhaps…”
“Used to dealing from weakness?” inquired Al Shei. “Maybe used to bigotry?”
“Yes,” said Havelock flatly. “That is exactly what we need. You have dealt from that position all your life. You have fought major corporations and succeeded. You have held your…faith up in the face of bigotry. You faced an organized conglomeration of AIs, and you won.” He leaned forward. There was an intensity in his expression that reminded her of Dobbs when Dobbs was being serious. “We would like to offer you an ambassadorship, from us to the Banks and the Management Union, first of all, then to the colonies closest to the Guild Hall. We’re not certain the peace is going to hold and we need…” He shook his head and sat back. “There’s more that we need than I can talk about in the few minutes I have. But let me tell you that you could name your price. The Guild does have plenty of credit…if the banks don’t decide to seize it from us,” he added ruefully.
“I see.” Al Shei stood up. “Thank you for your offer, Guild Master. I will consider it.”
Havelock stood up slowly to face her. He was only a few centimeters taller than she was. Al Shei wondered if all the Fools were bred for short stature.
“If you want your vengeance,” he told her. “All you have to do is say no. Then there will surely be a war for you and your children to wage against us.”
A thread of ice ran through Al Shei’s veins at his words. “Good morning, ‘Ster Havelock.”
“Good morning, ‘Dama Al Shei.” He left the room with the confident, graceful stride that had also belonged to Dobbs.
Al Shei turned away from the door and picked up Havelock’s untouched coffee cup. She stared at the dark liquid for a moment and then turned back to the doorway and hurled the cup against the wall.
Porcelain shattered and coffee splashed across the bright blue tiles. As she watched the brown tears trickle down the wall, answering tears began to roll down her own cheeks. Slowly, her knees crumbled underneath her and Al Shei collapsed against the floor, weeping for her broken heart.
Ruqaiyya and Grandmother came running, of course, to clean up the mess and help her to her room and calm the children.
When she quieted down, they left her alone with admonishments to get some sleep. Al Shei lay silently on the bed. This was not the room she’d shared with Asil. That room lay silent and unused. This was one of the guest quarters.
This was it then. She had broken a cup, sobbed, and stained a wall and the world was still what it was. Asil was still dead, the children were still wondering when their mother would be back with them, and her family was still expecting her to snap out of this sick, distant grieving.
“Al Shei?”
The voice was a woman’s, and familiar, but not family.
“Al Shei?”
Al Shei sat up and looked across at the intercom.
“Dobbs?”
“Yes. At least, mostly.” Dobbs sounded chagrined. The view screen flickered to life. There she sat against an indistinct background; brown hair, bright eyes, Guild necklace around her throat. “How are you?”
Al Shei found herself staring blankly at the intercom trying to decide how to answer that.
“Are you downstairs?” She asked finally.
“No. I’m…” she waved vaguely behind her. “Still in the net.”
“Oh.” What else could she say to that? “Mopping up in there?”
“No. The Guild took care of that. All of Curran’s talent are either back with us
, or… gone. I’m here permanently. Keeping Earth’s network up and running changed me too much.” There was something unsaid behind the phrase, Al Shei felt sure of it. “There’s no way the Guild is going to be able to give me a new body.” She spread her hands. “I’ve been working for weeks on this simulation.”
“A new body?” Al Shei inched over to the edge of the bed.
“Yes. The old one’s dead.” The image on the screen flickered for a moment and then steadied. “I had to keep Curran from being able to haul me out of the net.”
Al Shei tugged at her tunic sleeve, uncertain what to think or feel about that.
“Don’t worry,” said Dobbs, and there was a ghost of her old mischief in her voice. “The Guild doesn’t know what to think about me either.” She paused. “I know Havelock was there. I was wondering if I was going to have you as a partner.”
“What?” Al Shei jerked her head up.
“I’m one of the Guild’s new ambassadors.” There was some small pride in the statement and a healthy measure of incredulity. “They’re trying to make use of the fact that I’m one of the few Fools on record as helping save Earth’s network.” Dobbs, or Dobbs’ image, shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea. I’m pretty much out of a job.” She looked towards Al Shei without focusing on her, and Al Shei realized the Fool might not be able to see her. Even if the camera were on and Dobbs were processing the signals, would it really be analogous to human sight, or would it be more like reading braille?
It was a strange idea, that Dobbs was trapped behind the screen, only able to hear her, if hearing was the right metaphor for what she was doing. She must be controlling the processors and the output signals but…
A laugh escaped Al Shei. Here she was having a conversation with a dead woman, or a live AI, and the Engineer in her was wondering how it all worked.
“What is it?” asked Dobbs leaning forward curiously.
Al Shei waved her hand, remembered that Dobbs couldn’t see and said, “Nothing, nothing. I’m just…” she rubbed her forehead. “Very tired, really. And I’d rather not talk about how I’m going to answer Havelock.” She looked away from Dobbs. “Thank you for asking, though. I…I’m sure you’re doing your best.”
“Yes.” Dobbs was silent for a long moment, and Al Shei thought perhaps she’d gotten the hint and left, but when she turned her face back, the Fool’s image was frozen on the screen.
“You are asking yourself why you should help the ones who murdered your husband, aren’t you?” The image jerked to life, almost like an after-thought and leaned closer towards her.
Too tired to lie, Al Shei said, “That is part of what I’m thinking, yes.”
“You could do it to keep us honest, perhaps,” Dobbs spread her hands on her knees. “Or to make sure we’re kept in our places. You could have Lipinski as a consultant.”
Al Shei looked at her sharply, forgetting for a moment that what she saw was an illusion. “Why are you so ready to help the ones who betrayed you, Dobbs?”
The image froze again, and the voice said slowly. “While I …we…were fighting in there, I almost died. I had to stretch myself to my limits to survive. A number of my friends gave their lives…no, not their lives…their consciousness, their independence, so that I could be strong enough to hold Curran’s followers back and keep the net together.” Dobbs’ image looked towards her again, with intensity shining in her unfocused eyes. “I wanted to die because of what this war cost my friends, but I couldn’t…Life wants to continue. So, we are all driven to continue. To move, think, do. Here is something I can do, something I think is worth doing.”
“All of this is fine for you, but why should I even care?” Al Shei retorted. Exhaustion and wearying grief won out over manners. She didn’t look at the screen. She looked at her sealed window and the palm trees and blue sky beyond it. “Why should I care if the whole Guild collapses in on itself and Human Beings destroy the survivors and we’re left alone in the universe again?”
“I don’t know why you should care,” said Dobbs. “But I know that you do. If you didn’t care, you would have run away from the Farther Kingdom. You’d have gotten yourself and your crew out of there and let the mess sort itself out. You would have let Lipinski destroy the AI aboard the Pasadena and washed your hands of the whole thing. You wouldn’t have contacted your family when I asked you to. You would have let them shred the network you knew we need to live in. But you know that we’re not all evil, that we’re like Human Beings. Some of us are good, some are bad, most are a mix of the two, and you weren’t going to take it on yourself to destroy us all.
“You care, Al Shei, you always have. If you try to stop caring, you’re going to die trying.”
Al Shei’s fingers knotted around the blanket. The faux silk was cool and slick against her skin. “Words, words, words,” she muttered.
Dobbs was leaning all the way forward now. It looked as if any moment her nose would press against the glass of the screen. “They’re all I have left, Al Shei. I’ve lost everything else.” There was a sorrow in her voice that Al Shei hadn’t heard before. Dobbs seemed to catch herself and made her image give a small smile. “I liked being Human. I liked it from the first day I had a body. I’m going to miss it, a lot.”
Al Shei looked at her curiously. “Why can’t they give you a new one?”
She looked abashed. “I’m too big. There’s too many lives inside me. They’d have to cut them out to fit my core self back into Human patterns. I don’t want that. I…I feel like I’m a custodian now and I won’t give over that responsibility.”
Al Shei shook her head. “You’re a very strange creature.”
“Even stranger than I used to be,” Dobbs smiled again, deprecatingly this time. “When we play the fool, how the theater expands!” She swept her hand out and for that instant looked and sounded so much like her old self that Al Shei couldn’t keep from smiling.
Dobbs sobered quickly and her image flickered again. “Al Shei, it’s getting cramped in here. There’s a lot of activity on your lines. It’s squeezing me out. I think your sister is trying to get your uncle to come home…” she paused. “I’m going to put a call signature in your holding bin. You can use it to reach me, if you want to.” The image flickered again.
“Thank you,” said Al Shei, and although she meant it, she wasn’t sure how many things she was thanking Dobbs for. For being a good Fool, for being a good Human, perhaps. For trying her best.
The simulation of Dobbs’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “Anytime. I hope,” she added.
The screen went blank.
Al Shei smoothed out the blanket and stood up. She picked her pen up and activated the desk. After searching through three directories she managed to find the call signature for Guild Master Matthew Havelock, Fool’s Guild Hall Representative at Large.
She sent a request for contact down the line and switched on the camera over the intercom.
Havelock’s head and shoulders appeared on the view screen.
“We need to discuss salary, Guild Master,” she said. “And the ship you are going to build me.”
About the Author
Sarah Zettel is the critically acclaimed author of more than twenty novels, spanning the full range of genre fiction. Her debut novel, Reclamation, won the Locus Award for Best First Novel. Her second release, Fool’s War, was a 1997 New York Times Notable Book, and the American Library Association named Playing God one of the Best Books for Young Adults of 1999. Her novel Bitter Angels won the Philip K. Dick Award for best science fiction paperback in 2009. Her latest novel, Dust Girl, was named as one of the best young adult books of the year by both Kirkus Reviews and the American Library Association. Zettel lives in Michigan with her husband, her rapidly growing son, and her cat, Buffy the Vermin Slayer.
PRAISE FOR THE WRITING OF SARAH ZETTEL
RECLAMATION
Winner of the Locus Award for Best First Novel
“An exciting new talent… Ms. Zet
tel’s confident treatment of her ambitious material shows just how entertaining the ‘grand tradition of Heinlein and Asimov’ can be in her sympathetic hands.”
—The New York Times Book Review
“This one has scope and sweep, intrigue and grandiose technologies, and grand adventure. Sarah Zettel is a writer to watch.”
—Analog Science Fiction & Fact
“In the grand tradition of Heinlein and Asimov … More than an exciting science fiction adventure story—it also gives us a universe, vividly imagined and thought provoking.”
—Poul Anderson, author of Harvest of Stan
FOOL’S WAR
A New York Times Notable Book of the Year
“Wrenchingly real.”
—The Philadelphia Inquirer
“This thought-provoking tale offers an energetic plot and a cast full of appealing characters.”
—The Plain Dealer
“An exciting, stimulating and imaginative book. Zettel handles her intriguing cast of characters, both human and AI, with style and confidence.”
—SF Reviews
PLAYING GOD
“Energetic and entertaining … with many clever twists.”
—The Plain Dealer
“Absorbing and exciting… Rush right out and grab Playing God.”
—Analog Science Fiction & Fact
THE QUIET INVASION
“Humans, aliens and Venus itself are all skillfully portrayed here, in a pleasingly complex plot…. A drama of considerable moral force.”
—Locus
“A first-contact novel worth reading and relishing.”