Building Harlequin’s Moon (45 page)

“Oh.”

“We’ll know in the morning.”

T
HE PROMISED STORM
blew into Clarke Base with a vengeance, low clouds piling up below the crater rim and wind rattling her small windows.

Rachel huddled under her covers. They would tell her when they knew.

No word came.

She imagined a hundred ways Treesa could get caught.

Rain drummed on the roof. Rain could be a good omen; Gabriel and Ali always praised rain on Selene. It was good for crops. It meant the water system, the hydrology, of the
world was working. She listened to the staccato sounds of the rain and the wind’s keening cry. She chewed her lip, listening for a message from Treesa.

None came.

Rachel finally fell into a fitful sleep, and dreamed she ran away from something she could not name, something always on her heels. Lost and tired, she ran into a canyon with no way out, no way to escape her pursuer. She jerked awake.

Dawn light touched her windows. When she stood and looked out, the storm might have never been except that Clarke Base looked washed clean.

She set out breakfast for her father and Sarah, making sure her dad ate well. Since Kara left he’d grown weaker and slower. He only worked at small repair jobs close to home. His joints popped and flexed, and he hardly slept. His back bent over a little at the shoulders. Star prescribed pain medicine and a special diet. It dismayed Rachel that Council wouldn’t even consider using cold sleep for him.

She was on her way out the door when Treesa hummed a cradle song in Rachel’s ear. Rachel stopped a moment, confused. Of course. Something had been born!

She smiled and went to the greenhouse. It was a safer place to talk, and she had half an hour before she must teach.

She busied her hands testing soil pH and plucking the thinner sprouts from a set of vegetable beds. “Astronaut?”

“No.” It was Astronaut’s voice; genderless and modulated.

“What shall we call you?”

“Vassal.”

“Vassal?”

“To remind myself. I must help you succeed here or I will always be a slave. Perhaps there will be a day when I
can change my name. For now, call me slave—Vassal—to remind yourself that you too are a slave.”

Rachel laughed. “I like it,” she said. “Do you need anything?”

“I’ll have the same relationship with you that Astronaut did. You will have to remember that I am not the same, lest you make mistakes with the other one. It does not know that I exist. I—it—decided that was safer. Treesa will report failure. Astronaut will choose to believe it.”

“Will it be that easy?”

“Probably not. The true information will still be there—Astronaut will know. Think of the self-deception as a layer of protection. We—Astronaut and I—are not like you. Our psychology can deal with deep data paradox.”

“I know.” Rachel moved to another set of flats, started the pH tests again. “But won’t you want to talk to each other?”

“It would be dangerous. I don’t have the same problem with patience that plagues humans.”

“Of course.” She thought a moment. “But I’ll still be able to talk to Astronaut?”

“Treesa will tell it to stop talking to you very much—she will say that it has become dangerous. It will not like that, but it will obey her. Still, if you need some specific information from the ship, then, yes, you may talk to Astronaut directly. It will still help us block certain communications from reaching
John Glenn
.”

“How?”

“It has to do with the addressing of data streams. Start conversations with me using my name.”

“Okay, but change your voice, so I don’t get confused.”

“The addressing algorithms in your earbud were changed last night to add me. If you get confused, it won’t hurt anything.”

“Do it anyway,” she commanded. “I need to know who’s talking to me!” One nice thing about an AI, she reflected,
was that unless she said something really stupid, it tended to obey her.

A woman’s voice, rich and mature, flowed into Rachel’s ear. “As you like.”

A
BOARD
J
OHN
G
LENN
,
Gabriel stalked down the corridor, into his office, and slammed the door shut.

“Was the meeting that bad?” Astronaut asked.

“I’m sure you watched it. No particular change in strategies. Kyu’s going to hate the idea of wearing uniforms.”

“She can question it when she warms.”

“If Liren lets us warm her.” Gabriel stripped off his shirt and started calling up data windows.

“Certain circumstances require all High Council to be warm.”

Astronaut’s comment reminded Gabriel of the fire. He winced. “Let’s hope nothing like that happens again—not until we leave.”

“I’ve never understood your use of yoga.”

“How do you know I was planning to do yoga?” Gabriel snapped. Then he paused. “Yeah, well, because I always do before I go cold. Sorry. I’m not mad at you.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because I’m here,” Gabriel mumbled, filling data windows with images of Selene. He centered the Sea of Refuge and Council Aerie in front of him. “Because . . . because I’d rather be down there. I don’t like being ordered around, and I have work to do on Selene.”

Gabriel stretched, bending to the right, right wrist
pulling left arm; reverse the order. One heel to buttocks, partial back bend. Next a basic warrior pose, facing forward, front leg bent at the knee, back leg straight, arms above his head. He used the image of Council Aerie as a focus point, a balance.

“Why did you turn Erika down?” Astronaut asked.

Gabriel grimaced. An AI was questioning him about his sex life! “Because she ordered me up here. Because it’s not a good idea to sleep with the captain.”

“Erika must stay alone because she’s the captain?”

Gabriel returned to a straight stand, breathed deeply, extended his arms above his head, and bent his left heel up into his groin, standing in full tree pose. “You’re asking more personal questions than usual. Why?”

“Something isn’t right. There are many tensions, and not much resolution. Now there is also tension between you and Erika.”

Gabriel breathed slowly, eyes centered on his room down on Selene. His standing thigh muscle quivered. “Nothing here has ever felt right to me. The last right moment was when we left Earth for Ymir.”

Astronaut didn’t comment.

Gabriel stretched for another hour, sinking into his body, exploring his range of motion, seeking fluidity. Afterward he lay down and stared at the ceiling, relaxing each muscle with control developed across years of practice. “Astronaut.”

“Yes.”

“Warm me up if anything interesting happens?”

“You are requested to remain cold for at least a year.”

“I’m still allowed to set my own sleep cycle.”

“Of course.”

“So, if Erika doesn’t do it first, wake me up if there’s anything I need to know.”

“How do I know what you need to know?”

“Use your judgment. Otherwise, I’m setting the controls
for a year.” He stood and pulled his shirt on. “I’m going now.”

Gabriel walked down the corridor, energy thrumming in him, a heartbeat he could feel in his fingers and toes. It reminded him of swimming in the Sea of Refuge two weeks ago, the day he talked to Rachel on the dock. This time, maybe because of the yoga, there was a metaphor in his head. He was building a complex structure using nano-assemblers, one molecule at a time, except that the little machines kept doing things that weren’t in the pattern he’d so painstakingly designed. He could no longer see what the shape would be when the machines were all done.

R
ACHEL STOOD IN
the main greenhouse, plucking red fist-sized tomatoes from the now-mature plants she and Ali and Treesa had planted the night she decided about Vassal. She whispered to empty air. “Vassal? Where were we when I fell asleep last night? Feudal societies—”

“Feudal societies survived in some Earth countries until well past the start of the age of communication.” Vassal’s melodious voice spoke softly in her ear while she moved from plant to plant, filling her bucket. “It has to do with power. Some economies were built almost on a single resource, like energy or water. The easier a major resource is to control, the easier it is to concentrate power. Democracy built powerful nations in Europe and the Americas, but some places, like the Middle East, never had the economic diversity required to support democracy. Power can’t be as fully concentrated in a diverse economy—power must be
diffuse for democracy to work. Most of our great inventions, including computing, biotechnology, and nanotechnology, were born in democracies. Competition, particularly for power, breeds new technologies.”

Rachel plucked three more tomatoes. “But didn’t Council leave Sol system because of those technologies?”

“Artificial Intelligence isn’t intrinsically bad. There are better words—independent intelligence, or free intelligence.”

“You’re an AI, and you aren’t any more free than I am. If High Council finds you, I suspect they’ll kill you. You need a place to live. A computer. And you’ve already said you think of yourself as a slave to Council.”

“I’m not dependent on a body that lives in emotional soup.”

Emotional soup! Rachel laughed at the image.

Vassal said, “Focus your mind. How diverse is Selene’s power?”

“In the past, you said we were more like slaves in the Americas.” Rachel set down the heavy basket, reaching up to brush stray hair out of her eyes. Her hands smelled like tomato plants. “Or maybe the communist countries—the ones with centralized power and diverse economies. Those all failed. Here, Council has all the power, like in a communist country. We’re dependent on them. They could remove our resources, and they do control our freedoms. It’s like feudal communism.”

“What about
John Glenn’s
power base?” Vassal asked. “In some ways, it’s separate from Selene. What resource does the Council control?”

“Information?” Rachel picked up an empty basket and returned to picking tomatoes. “Like the democracies of Earth, before there was a strong World Court. Lots of education. Yet the power is concentrated in the High Council, who don’t always agree.” She stopped for a moment, struggling to recall details from her history lessons. “Still,
there’s no vote among the other Council members, and Earth Born don’t even seem to have a voice.”

“Very good.” Vassal paused. “Does it mean anything particular that people like Treesa and Ali and John, who disagree with High Council, have moved to Selene and chosen to live close together?”

“It means I have allies I can talk to.”

“But they may be out of touch.”

“They’re working on Council projects, but I suppose they have a little more freedom down here.” She thought of Gabriel. “Not really. High Council can yank them home in a moment.”

A high tone sounded in Rachel’s ear. Warning.

The greenhouse door opened, and Shane stood framed in the fading light. His shadowed face looked serious. “Hello, Rachel,” he said. “I thought I’d find you in here.”

What did Shane want? Had Council discovered Vassal? She kept her voice friendly, but her hands shook. “Shane. What can I help you with?”

He stepped inside, closing the door. “I’ll be blunt. Before Gabriel left, he told me he asked you to look into the parts shortages. He said you were going to tell me if you found anything.”

She kept most of her attention on the tomatoes. “I haven’t found anything. I’m not sure where to look.”

“We’ve been analyzing data, and we’re confident that the parts crews, the ones your half brothers work on, are causing problems.”

“Problems?”

“The work is shoddy. Yesterday, two of the new high-pressure camera cases for Refuge were packed so badly they broke before they even reached Council Aerie.” His voice was strained and tight.

Rachel eyed Shane’s belt. Council now wore uniforms, white shirts and blue pants, belts with weapons on them.
Small, palm-sized, shaped like a hand with the index finger extended.

Vassal had described their powers to her. The weapons fired a crystal needle, or four in a cluster. The needle was a capacitor. Impact broke the needle and released an electric charge. The needles dissolved in water or blood. One needle would usually knock a victim sprawling and unconscious. A cluster of four, the other setting, had greater stopping power, but the shock would probably kill. Vassal had explained that the weapons were never set to kill in normal use, but all of them could be.

What could she tell Shane? “Maybe it’s not us. There are Earth Born on that crew too. Some of them hate being here. Crops come in on time, and almost all the farm and planting crews are Moon Born these days.”

Shane plucked a tomato and bit into it. “Mmm. Nice.”

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t expect you’d tell us anything. I told Gabriel that. Tell your people something for me. Tell them that if they don’t cooperate more, we’ll find ways to encourage them. Maybe if you don’t find anything out, I’ll reassign you to one of the crews we’re having trouble with. It would be too bad if you lost your teaching job.” He turned and walked out.

Rachel watched the door for a few seconds after it closed behind Shane. She remembered how hard Shane worked by the fire, how he trusted her to lead crews. Damn Andrew. And Liren too, for that matter. Liren most of all. “They’ve never threatened me before,” Rachel muttered to Vassal. “They don’t threaten, they act. Like leaving me asleep for twenty years without asking me.”

Vassal said, “Life on Selene is becoming more complex. Council will start assembling the collider soon. There are more Council on Selene. Tension is increasing. For the first time, Selene has a bigger population than
John Glenn
, even
if we include sleepers. There are multiple projects now, with different people in charge of each of them. Refuge, seeding the sea, replanting, parts factories, education, farming, and the collider. Power is becoming more diffuse. High Council can’t control every decision as much as they used to.”