Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt
Adiamante (28 page)
“T
he cybs only understand power,” Dvorrak had observed as his groundshuttle had carried me around the lanes and finally down Jung toward the admin building.
he cybs only understand power,” Dvorrak had observed as his groundshuttle had carried me around the lanes and finally down Jung toward the admin building.
Dvorrak was wrong. The problem with the cybs was that they had no understanding of power beyond creating physical power. Most conquerors and would-be conquerors didn't, and that was why so many empires failed and why so many bureaucracies endured.
The sun was touching the western hills when I stepped out of the groundshuttle at the admin building, but a handful of restraint squad members, boosted by an equal number of demis in restraint squad blacks, still guarded the building.
“Good afternoon,” said Lictaer.
“I hope you got some rest.”
“Yes, ser. More than you.”
“Some days the vorpals eat well,” I answered.
No one cracked a smile, not even me, and I hurried up to my office where Miris stood outside.
“He's been here for over an hour,” Keiko pulsed at me, “but Crucelle and Arielle are already inside. That was so he wouldn't pester them.”
Miris stepped toward me. “Coordinator?”
“Yes, Miris? There's not much I can say at the moment, except that I saw the cybs' demonstration. So far as I know, there was no damage to any installations or people.”
“Have you checked?” he asked sarcastically.
“Yes. I'm being cautious.”
“Yes, you are, Coordinator. You're being very cautious.” He inclined his head. “I understand you have an important meeting. I may talk to you after that.”
“If I have anything to add, Miris, I'll be happy to tell you.”
“Thank you.” He nodded and hurried down the steps.
“Was that wise?” Keiko was back in total black. I couldn't blame her. That was the way I felt.
“Probably not. Someone wise wouldn't have taken this job.”
Both Crucelle and Arielle were watching as I entered the Coordinator's office, but they waited until I closed the door.
“Particle beam?” Crucelle asked, his green eyes resigned.
“That or something close enough that there's no difference.” I rubbed my forehead. Despite my best efforts, my head ached, and my sinuses throbbed.
Arielle remained a dark and swirling storm, but silent.
K'gaio and Locatio were hovering on the net, which was one reason Crucelle had spoken aloud.
“Is it a Construct violation?” Crucelle asked.
“You could call it either way, but I don't think so.”
“Then it's not. You're the Coordinator.” The redhead
paused, then added, “Let's go to net conference with Locatio and K'gaio.”
paused, then added, “Let's go to net conference with Locatio and K'gaio.”
“Do you term this a Construct violation?” was K'gaio's first statement.
“No.”
“Turning a chunk of Luna into a polished mirrorâan eye staring down on Old Earth, certainly meets the terms of the Construct,” insisted Locatio.
“They didn't damage any installations there. We don't have many except the depots, anyway. They didn't even touch the old accelerator,” mused Crucelle.
“Next time, they'll smash everything at once,” Locatio warned.
“Arielle?” I asked.
“They'll send an ultimatum asking for full access to all demi technology. The demand will insist that such technology is due them as reparations for the great harm wrought upon their ancestors.”
“That follows my intuition,” offered K'gaio. “I'd hoped to be comped wrong. Will they act before an ultimatum?”
“No. They have to prove to themselves that they acted in accord with their view of justice. We must be offered a chance to right the wrong we inflicted upon them centuries ago. Only if we refuse can they act.”
“The demands will be impossible, then,” predicted K'gaio.
“That's my calculation.” Was there lightning crackling behind Arielle's words?
“Why can't we term this Lunar incident a Construct violation?” asked Locatio again. “Why do we have to wait and get fried by them?”
“What do you calculate, Arielle?” I asked.
“If we term this a Construct violation, the probabilities increase by seventy percent that we will see marked numbers of mistrust cases within two years. Within a century, the growth of those cases will render our present structure
impossible. Also, terming it a violation will reduce the effectiveness of the defense net by ten to fifteen percent.”
impossible. Also, terming it a violation will reduce the effectiveness of the defense net by ten to fifteen percent.”
“How do we know?” asked Locatio.
“We don't, not absolutely, but I'm willing to
trust
Arielle,” I said. Not trusting her judgment and talent was just another form of hair splitting.
trust
Arielle,” I said. Not trusting her judgment and talent was just another form of hair splitting.
“So we wait until they unleash an attack, and then we try to squash them before too many millions of demis and draffs die? Is that what you want, Ecktor?” Locatio had begun to whine again, and the tone, even through the net, grated on my sensibilities.
“It's not what I
want,
and you know that. Also, even more demis will die from the stress if we use the Lunar incident as a Construct violation. Just because you can handle that doesn't mean everyone can.”
want,
and you know that. Also, even more demis will die from the stress if we use the Lunar incident as a Construct violation. Just because you can handle that doesn't mean everyone can.”
“Ecktor is Coordinator,” K'gaio offered in her polished tone. “That's his decision, unless you want to ask for his removal.”
“No, no, no. But I can ask, can't I?”
“I, for one, need to continue working on locial hardening and evacuation,” responded K'gaio. “It might be well for you to do the same, Locatio. You have sent such a recommendation to other locials, have you not, Ecktor?”
“Several days ago, with a follow-up yesterday.”
“I doubt another is necessary, not now. Good morning, or good night to you.” A momentary hiss filled the net as K'gaio dropped from the uppernet.
“Good night,” echoed Locatio.
The three of us in the office exchanged glances in the gathering gloom.
“You two need to get some rest,” I suggested.
“So do you,” answered Arielle, her dark eyes dark-circled. “Tomorrow will bring the ultimatum, and the day after ⦔
“You're sure?”
She smiled bitterly. So did Crucelleâbitterly and painfully.
“Sorry.”
“You can hope, Ecktor.”
As they left, I studied the deepening purple and pink over the western hills, taking in the view. One way or another, that view would be gone in two daysâunless the cybs broke their patterns, or we broke ours. Breaking ours would destroy us. Breaking theirs would save them, if they would but see it. I shook my head. Kemra had an inkling. Perhaps the cybs' computer system could compute it. No one else seemed likely even to look.
The sky darkened more, and I finally walked out.
Keiko had blanked the console she didn't need, but had waited. “Miris is downstairs.”
“I promised I'd talk to him. Then I'll try to get some rest.”
“Do.” With that, she was gone, another dark presence. Were we all dark presences, all of us history-laden demis. I shook my head. Crucelle was warmth and lifeâand what was happening fell twice as heavily on him.
I waited until I heard her steps on the polished wood of the lowest hall before starting down.
Miris was waiting. Otherwise, the inside of the wide entry area was empty. The restraint squad still guarded the doors. The draff rep looked at me. “Boiling a hole in the moon isn't a violation of the Construct?”
“It probably is. But it's questionable enough that taking it as such will cause enormous problems.”
He scratched his head, like an ancient advocate in one of the sealed pub-dramas in the archives. “Let me get this straight. If you take this as a violation, and act before they do, thereby reducing casualties, we'll face some disturbing consequences at some point in the future. If you let them turn that demon beam on all of us, you demis will die with clear consciences, is that it?”
He was almost right. So I had to put it clearly, knowing he wouldn't like it. “The cost of
acting
before they do will be no society on Old Earth in one hundred years, and millions of deaths over the next millennia. The cost of reacting will probably be millions of deaths now, but a stable and functioning society with all damage restored a decade or two or five from now.”
acting
before they do will be no society on Old Earth in one hundred years, and millions of deaths over the next millennia. The cost of reacting will probably be millions of deaths now, but a stable and functioning society with all damage restored a decade or two or five from now.”
Miris actually swallowed. “I appreciate your honesty. How certain are you of the accuracy of those predictions?”
“According to our best comp, the acting-first prediction is over ninety percent accurate, although the timetable for societal dissolution is not. It could begin in ten years, but no later than one hundred fifty. The death cost of the reacting prediction ranges from one half million to two-and-one-half million, with an error range of ten percent, depending on the cyb timing. The accuracy of a stable society exceeds ninety-five percent, but the physical recovery period could vary considerably.”
“It seems as though we lose either way.”
“Not if the basic moral principle remains the survival of a society with maximum permissible ranges of choice and minimal internal violence.”
The draff representative worried his upper lip with his teeth. I wished I could offer more reassurance, rather than a tight smile. I walked into the evening, wishing I had Morgen to go home to, to talk to, to hold.
In the growing darkness, the wind was stiff and cold, and the moon glared down with her bloodshot eye, down at me. I hunched into my jacket and kept walking.
“T
he ultimatum is enroute, carried by Majer Henslom,” announced Gibreal across the shipnet.
he ultimatum is enroute, carried by Majer Henslom,” announced Gibreal across the shipnet.
“Not our nav?” The anonymous question was followed by the image of wiggling hips, which vanished before any tracer could follow.
The crackle and hiss of lightning across the net followed immediately.
“What will they do?” asked the envoff in the stillness. “The demis, I mean?”
“It doesn't matter,” gloated Weapons. “They turn over Old Earth to us, or we turn it over on them. It's their choice.”
“Let's have a systems assessment,” suggested Ideomineo. “MYL-ERA, report on demi subject.”
“Probabilities approach unity that all statements made by the demi subject were accurate,” reported MYL-ERA.
“What about his statement about there being a quarter of a million demis with his abilities?” asked Kemra.
“I've analyzed that statement. That wasn't what he said,” pointed out Gorum. “He said that there were a quarter million with abilities within five percent of his and an overall average of within one percent. But the actual potential of mental abilities are better measured on a logbased system. After all, we share more than ninety percent of the same chromosomes with primates.”
“Oh ⦔
“Exactly. He told the absolute truth, but, in practical terms, there could be only a handful of demis who match him.”
“They don't need many with that comm system,” Kemra pointed out. “They can respond more quickly than we can.”
“They don't need many to hold their society together, but they're already having problems against an outside threat.”
“Would you classify Majer Ysslop's efforts within their Ellay locial as internal?” asked the executive officer, his words as calm as the summer seas of Gates.
“The demi society is highly effective against small numbers of those who would disrupt it from on Old Earth itself,” responded MYL-ERA.
“There's something else that doesn't go with that,” pointed out the envoff. “The Coordinator is putting on a show for the draffs. He's restricted the information on the destruction of our agent teams, and, even knowing that the marcybs were only slightly above constructs, made that gesture of returning Henslom's puppet. If there were hundreds of thousands of powerful demis, he wouldn't have to act that way.”
“They still have the satellite systems,” pointed out the nav.
“That's fine, but how can they protect a hundred of those locials with only twelve low-powered asteroid systems?” pressed Gorum.
“Report on demis' satellite system,” ordered Ideomineo.
“Data on the asteroid satellite system is incomplete and inconclusive,” replied MYL-ERA. “All locational systems are now functional. They allow accurate navigation down to point one meter in non-clouded areas and point two meter in weather-obscured areas. Surface temperature of asteroid stations continues to rise. That temperature rise is at variance with perceived technology and observed power sources.”
“Could they be heat leaks because the engineering
is deficient or because the systems are so old?” asked Weapons.
is deficient or because the systems are so old?” asked Weapons.
“The probability that the engineering is deficient is less than two percent. The probability that the temperature variances have been caused by heat leaks is approximately twenty-one percent.”
“Other probabilities?” asked Gorum.
“The highest probability, at twenty-four percent, is that of shielded power sources. The tertiary probability, at nineteen percent, is surface anomalies created by the moving and positioning of the asteroids. Other probabilities sum at approximately thirty-five percent.” The probability listing flashed to the net-conference members.
“I worry about those shielded power sources. Can you quantify that, Systems?” requested Ideomineo.
“Based on specifications on file, heat leakage caused by shielded systems would indicate between one and two additional standard-capacity, weapons-level fusactors on each station.”
“That's nothing to worry about,” laughed Weapons.
“What is the probability that such shielded systems, if they exist,” Ideomineo pushed on, “have greater power outputs than postulated?”
“No information exists on which further quantification or speculation could be based.”
“So we have a twenty-five percent probability that the demis have more power on their stations than represented, and if so, that power ranges from the capability of half of one fleet ship to an unknown upper limit?” asked Kemra.
“That is correct,” answered MYL-ERA.
“What is the probability that the upper limit exceeds the capability of one ship?”
“There is no way to quantify that.”
“If they had that much power, they wouldn't be tiptoeing around,” summed up Gorum.
A sense of assent filled the net.
“Report on demi belief and principle structure,” Ideomineo continued.
“Based on the data observed, and assuming the factual accuracy of the historical events recorded in system databanks, the demis have evolved a working social system.”
“We knew that,” came a mutter across the net.
“That assumption is not verifiable,” replied MYL-ERA.
“The demis represented that they had a working system based on certain principles. Observation was necessary to verify such representation.”
“What else did the system verify?”
“There appears to be social or other constraints against violence and against making threats.”
“Hold it,” interrupted Gorum. “That demi assaulted Majer Henslom. He killed a bunch of rodents without blinking, and killed an agent. Others killed almost a dozen agents.”
“In all instances, violence was instigated before the demis took action,” reported MYL-ERA coldly.
“That's a distinction without a difference, it seems to me,” offered the fleet commander. “They can and have brought force to bear. That they wait until another commits to action doesn't convey any particular moral virtue, and it can be a tactical weaknessâespecially in the face of overwhelming force.” He paused, then asked, “Will these demis wait to strike until after we do?”
“The probability of demi action preceding Vereal Fleet action is too close to nonexistent to calculate in statistical terms.”
“Then, why bother with the ultimatum?” asked Gorum.
“Because I'd rather ensure that I cover every possibility. Would you like to report to CybCen that you'd slagged Old Earth without trying for the technology peacefully?”
After a moment, Gibreal added, “That is all.”
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