A Deepness in the Sky (69 page)

Unnerby smiled. "That's Sherk for you." Maybe he was on a safe topic. "Did you see how he lit up when we talked about my ‘magic rock dust'? I can't wait to see what he does with it. What happens when you give a miracle to a miracle worker?"

Smith seemed to search for words. "We'll figure out the rock dust, that's certain. Eventually. But...hell, Hrunkner, you deserve to know. You've been with Sherk as long as I have. You noticed how his tremor is getting worse? The truth is, he's not aging as well as most in your generation."

"I noticed he's frail, but look at all the results coming out of Princeton these days. He's doing more than ever."

"Yes. Indirectly. Over the years, he's brought together a larger and larger circle of genius students. There are hundreds of them now, scattered all over the computer net."

"...But all those papers by ‘Tom Lurksalot'? I thought that was Sherk and his students being coy."

"That? No. That's...that's only his students being coy. They play anonymous games on the net; they make credit-taking into a guessing game. It's just...silliness."

Silly or not, it was amazingly productive. Over the last few years, "Tom Lurksalot" had provided breakthrough insights about everything from nucleonics to computer science to industrial standards. "It's hard to believe. Just now, he seemed the same as always—mentally, I mean. The ideas seemed to come as fast as ever."A dozen weird ideas a minute, when he'son a roll. Unnerby smiled to himself, remembering. Flightiness, thy name is Underhill.

The General sighed, and her voice was soft and distant. She might have been talking about made-up storybook characters, not her own personal tragedy. "Sherk has had thousands of crazy ideas and hundreds of beautiful winners. But that's...changed. My dear Sherkaner hasn't come up with anything new in three years. He's into videomancy these days, did you know that? He has all his old flamboyance, but..." Smith's voice guttered into silence.

For almost forty years, Victory Smith and Sherkaner Underhill had been a team, Underhill producing an endless avalanche of ideas and Smith selecting the best and feeding them back to him. Sherk used to describe the process more colorfully, back when he thought artificial intelligence was the wave of the future: "I'm the idea-generating component and Victory is the crap-detector; we're an intelligence greater than anything on ten legs." These two had transformed the world.

But now...what if half the team had lost its genius? Sherk's brilliant whimsy had kept the General on track as much as the reverse. Without Sherk, Victory Smith was left with her own assets: courage, strength, persistence. Was that enough?

Victory didn't say anything more for a time. And Hrunkner wished that he could walk over and put his arms across her shoulders...but sergeants, even old sergeants, don't do that to generals.

FORTY-TWO

The years had passed, and the danger had grown. More implacably than any human Pham had ever known, Reynolt kept searching and searching. As far as possible, he had avoided manipulating the zipheads. He had even arranged for his operations to continue while he was off-Watch; that was very risky, but it evaded the obvious correlations. It didn't help. Now Reynolt seemed to have concrete suspicions. Pham's tracers showed her searches intensifying, closing in on her suspect—most likely Pham Nuwen. There was no cure for it. However risky the operation, Anne must be eliminated. The open house for Nau's new "office" might be the best chance Pham would get.

"North Paw" was what Tomas Nau called it. Most everybody else—certainly the Qeng Ho who did the engineering—called it simply the Lake Park. Now everyone on-Watch had their one opportunity to see the final result.

The last of the crowd was still trickling in when Nau appeared on the porch of his timbered lodge. He wore a glistening full-press jacket and green pants. "Keep your feet on the ground, people. My Qiwi has invented a whole special etiquette for North Paw." He was smiling, and those in the crowd laughed. Gravity on Diamond One was more of a hint than a physical law. Around the lodge, the "ground" was cleverly textured grabfelt. So everyone did have feet on the ground, but their notion of vertical was only a vague consensus. Beside him on the porch, Qiwi was chuckling at the appearance of the hundreds of people standing before them, tilting this way and that like drunks. A black-furred kitten lay curled across the lace of her blouse.

Nau raised his hands again. "My people, my friends. This afternoon, please enjoy and admire what you have built here. And think about it. Thirty-eight years ago we nearly destroyed ourselves in battle and in treachery. For most of you, that time is not so long ago, just ten or twelve years on-Watch. You remember after that, how I said this was a time like the Plague Years on Balacrea. We had destroyed most of the resources we brought here, we had destroyed our starfaring capabilities. To survive, I said, we must put aside the animosities, and work together no matter how different our backgrounds....Well, my friends, we did that. We are not out of physical danger; our destiny with the Spiders is still to be. But look around you, and you will see how we have healed ourselves.You all built this from the bare rock and ice and airsnow. This North Paw—Lake Park—is not large, but it is a work of highest art. Look upon it. You've made something that rivals the best that whole civilizations might create.

"I'm proud of you." He reached out to slip his arm across Qiwi's shoulders, displacing the kitten into the crook of Qiwi's arm. Once upon a time, the relationship between Nau and Lisolet had been an ugly rumor. Now—Pham could see people smiling comfortably at the sight. "You see this is more than a park, more than a Podmaster's sanctum. What you see here is evidence of something new in the universe, a melding of the best that Qeng Ho and Emergent have to offer. Emergent Focused persons—" Pham noticed that he still didn't talk about the slaves as bluntly as he might. "—did the detailed planning for this park. Qeng Ho trade and individual action made it reality. And I personally have learned something: On Balacrea and Frenk and Gaspr, we Podmasters rule for the community good, but we rule largely by personal direction—and often by force of law. Here, working with you former Qeng Ho, I see another way. I know that the work on my park was accomplished as payback for that silly pink scrip you've been hiding from me for so long." He raised a hand and several bills fluttered into the air. Laughter passed around the crowd again. "So! Think what the combination of Podmaster direction and Qeng Ho efficiency can do once we have completed our mission!"

He bowed to enthusiastic applause. Qiwi slipped in front of him, to stand at the porch railing—and the applause just got louder. The kitten, finally fed up with the noise and the jostling, jumped off Qiwi's arm and sailed into the air over the crowd. It unfurled soft wings and slowed its upward trajectory, then curved back to circle over its mistress. "Take note," Qiwi said to the crowd, "Miraowis allowed to fly here. But she has wings!" The cat made a mock dive at her, then flew off into the forest that grew all around the inland side of Nau's lodge. "Now I invite you to the side of the Podmaster's house for refreshments."

Some of the visitors were already there. The rest shuffled round the pathways to trestled tables that bowed subtly downward, as if from the weight of the food that was set upon them. Pham moved along with everyone, loudly greeting anyone who would talk with him. It was important to establish his presence here in as many minds as possible. Meantime, in the back of his eyes, the view from his tiny spies built up the tactical picture of the park and the forest.

Cultures clashed at the food tables, but by now Benny's parlor had established an etiquette for going after food. In a few moments, most people had their first buckets and bottles full of refreshment, and spread back into the open. Pham walked up behind Benny and slapped him on the back. "Benny! This stuff is good! But I thought you were supplying."

Benny Wen swallowed, coughing. "Of course it's good. And of course it's mine—and Gonle's." He nodded at the former quartermaster clerk who was standing beside him. "Actually, Qiwi's father sprouted some new stuff he found in the libraries. We've had it for about half a year now, saving it for this party."

Pham puffed himself up: "I did my part out-of-doors. Someone had to supervise the added drilling and the meltwater for the Podmaster's lake."

Gonle Fong showed her mercenary smile. More than any Qeng Ho—in a way more than Qiwi herself—Fong bought into Tomas Nau's "cooperative vision." Gonle had done very well by doing good. "Everybody got something out of this. My farms are openly endorsed by the Podmaster now. And I've got real automation."

"You have something better than a keyboard now?" Pham said slyly.

"You bet. And today, I'm in charge of services." She lifted her hand dramatically and a food tray floated docilely over to them. It rotated beneath her hand, bobbed politely as she grabbed at spiced seaweed. Then it moved to Benny and then Pham. Pham's little spies looked at the gadget from all directions. The tray maneuvered on tiny gas jets, almost silently. It was mechanically simple, but it moved with grace and intelligence. Benny noticed too. "It's controlled by a Focused person?" he said, sounding a little sad.

"Um, yes. The Podmaster thought it worthwhile, considering the event." Pham watched the other trays. They swept in wide circles, out from the food tables, picking out just the guests who hadn't been fed.Clever. The slaves were kept diplomatically offstage, and people could pretend what Nau had often declared, that Focus took civilization to a higher level.ButNau is right! Damn him.

Pham said something appropriately truculent to Gonle Fong, words that showed that "old fart Trinli" was truly impressed but determined not to admit it. He walked out from the center of the crowd, apparently intent on food.Hmm. Ritser Brughel was off-Watch just now—another cleverness of Tomas Nau. Many people bought into some part of Nau's "vision" nowadays, but Ritser Brughel could unnerve even the fully converted. But if Brughel was off-Watch, and if Nau and Reynolt were diverting rote-layer zipheads to manual serving...this was a chance even better than he had thought.So where is Reynolt? The woman could be surprisingly hard to track; sometimes she dropped off Brughel's direct monitor list for Ksecs at a time. Pham pushed his attention outward. There were millions of the tiny particles scattered throughout the park. The ones stabilizing the lake and running the ventilators were mostly tasked, but that still left immense processing power. No way he could handle all the viewpoints and images. As his mind swept back and forth though the park, he was vaguely aware that he was swaying on his feet.Aha, there! Not a close view, but there inside Nau's lodge, he had a glimpse of Reynolt's red hair and pinkish skin. As expected, the woman wasn't participating in the festivities. She was hunched over an Emergent input pad, her eyes hidden behind stark black huds. She looked the same as ever. Tense, intense, as if on the verge of some deadly insight.And for all I know, she is.

Someone whacked him on the shoulder, as hard as he had struck Benny a few moments earlier. "So Pham, my man, what do you think?"

Pham pushed away the inner visions and looked around at his assailant: Trud Silipan had dressed up for the event. His uniform was like nothing he'd seen except in some Emergent historicals: blue silk, fringed and tasseled, and somehow imitating torn, stained rags. It was the dress of the First Followers, Trud had once told him. Pham let his surprise become exaggerated. "What do I think about what—your uniform or the view?"

"The view, the view! I'm in uniform just because this is such a milestone. You heard the Podmaster's speech. Go ahead, you take a few more moments. Take in the view of Lake Park, and tell me what you think."

Behind them, Pham's inner vision showed Ezr Vinh bearing down on them.Damn. "Well—"

"Yes, what do you think, Armsman Trinli?" Vinh walked around till he stood facing them. He looked straight into Pham's eyes for an instant. "Of all the Qeng Ho here, you are the oldest, most traveled. Of all of us, you must have the deepest experience. How does the Podmaster's North Paw compare to the great parks of the Qeng Ho?"

Vinh's words had a double meaning that went unnoticed by Trud Silipan, but Pham felt an instant of cold rage.You're part of the reason I haveto kill Anne Reynolt, you little jerk. Nau's "true" histories of Pham Nuwen had eaten into the boy. For at least a year now, it was clear that he understood the true story of Brisgo Gap. And he guessed what Pham really wanted with Focus. His demands for guarantees and reassurance had become more and more pointed.

The localizers painted false-color images of Ezr Vinh's face, showed his blood pressure and skin temperature. Could a good ziphead snoop look at such pictures and guess that the boy was playing some kind of game? Maybe. The boy's hate for Nau and Brughel still outweighed his feelings against Pham Nuwen; Pham could still use him. But he was one more reason why Reynolt must be removed.

The thoughts passed through Pham's mind even as his mouth twisted into a self-satisfied smirk. "Putting it that way, my boy, you're absolutely right. Book learning can't compare to traveling the light-years and seeing the sights with your own two eyes." He turned away from them and looked down the footpath, past the lodge, to the moorage and the lake beyond.Pretend to be thoughtfully considering.

He had spent Msecs invisibly prowling this construction; it should have been easy to play his proper role. But standing here, he could feel the air drifting slowly out of the trees behind him. It was moist, faintly chill, with a tarry scent that whispered of a thousand kilometers of forest stretching out behind him. Sunlight came warm through high patchy clouds. That, too, was fake. Nowadays, the real sun was not as bright as a decent moon. But the light systems embedded in the diamond sky could imitate almost any visual effect. The only clue to the fakery was the faint shimmering rainbows that arched across the farther distances... .

Down the hill from him was the lake itself. That was Qiwi's triumph. The water was real, thirty meters deep in places. Qiwi's network of servos and localizers kept it stable, the surface flat and smooth, reflecting clouds and blue from overhead. The Podmaster's lodge overlooked a moorage that sat at the head of an inlet. The inlet spread and spread. Kilometers out—actually less than two hundred meters—two rocky islands rose from the mists, guarding the far shore.