Fool's War (61 page)

Cohen was here, and Brooke, and… others. You were holding the network together. What’s the last thing you remember?

The answer sent a throb of terror through her. Dobbs pulled back in on herself. Huddling into a ball, she reached inside and found the familiar patterns tangled beyond redemption in her own engorged coils.

It was a long time before she could make herself stop screaming.

When Guild Master Havelock found her, it took him even longer to recognize who she was.

Can 56 drifted lazily through space. Yerusha had muted the monitor carrying the Landlords voices ordering everyone away from the area and demanded to know what the impounded
Pasadena
was doing out here.

A big, bulbous tugger was trying to angle itself toward the can so it could get a grip on the rogue object with the gigantic waldo protruding from its bow. Its torch flickered on and off like a dying Christmas light. Yerusha imagined the pilot uttering some of the same curses she was.

There was no way the
Pasadena
were going to get in there. Not past the tug, not with the M.U. ship on its way out from port. And even if they could, there was absolutely, positively no way to dock with that rolling, bobbling tin can.

She was going to have to tell Schyler. She was going to have to tell him that this was one thing she could not do. If Al Shei was okay in there, she was also stuck in there.

The can rolled over once more. A crystal shower burst out of the side and something small shot into the vacuum.

Yerusha ordered the cameras to pin point the area and zoom in at maximum magnification. A mustard-yellow pressure suit tumbled against the blackness, surrounded by a blizzard of glittering stars. Hope blazed inside her. Somebody had just busted out a window. That would be very like Al Shei.

“Watch, check the screen.” Yerusha scribbled down the commands to change the torch angle. “Muhammad may have just made it to the mountain.”

Schyler squinted at the yellow figure inside the blizzard. “Intercom to Lipinski!” he cried. “We got a suit at forty-five degrees down and front. Put out a call. It might be Al Shei!”

“On it!”

Schyler scrambled to his feet. “Get close as you can, Pilot. I’m going to get a life line ready, in case it is her.”

“What if we don’t get an answer?”

He froze for a moment, and when he did speak, it was like he had to drag the words out. “If we get no answer, we leave it. I can’t risk dragging an AI onto this ship with just the three of us to deal with it.”

 
Al Shei tumbled on the wind like a feather. Stars whirled around her in their black pool until all she could see where long trails of light. It was beautiful beyond description. She flew without effort into infinity, toward Paradise, toward Allah and Asil.

I will meet you there, Beloved.

Uranus’ blue-grey globe drifted beneath Al Shei’s boots. She fell away from it, toward the stars. Another tumble and she could see Curran’s module falling away from her with Port Oberon loomed in the background like a sculpture by a manic artist. Ships glided around it, metallic insects flying around a bright light.

Is one of them Pasadena? she wondered. What had happened to Schyler and Yerusha? Had they gotten back all right? The station wheeled out of her field of vision. It didn’t matter, Asil was waiting for her.

Right here, Beloved.

“Al Shei!” cried a voice by her ear. “Al Shei! This is Pasadena! Respond!”

The stars traced their lines of fire across her field of vision. Had Resit called Uncle Ahmet yet? Had they told the children? Were Muhammad and Vashti mourning for her as well as their father?

They will be well, Beloved and so will we.

Exhaustion filled her. Her flight was beautiful, her destination was Paradise. “Yes,” she whispered. “They’ll be all right.”

“Al Shei, if that’s you out there, respond!”

A thousand memories chased themselves around her skull. Most of them held Asil’s voice reciting the results of soccer games, astronomy projects and home meals. Vashti would go on to be a city champion, for sure, and Muhammad, he would win a scholarship to University…

But she’d never know about it.

A flame burned somewhere off to the left. A silver bulb drifted momentarily past her faceplate as the universe turned around again.

With no one there to make the recordings, how would she know? If she let herself fly away forever, who would tell her what became of her children? After this, Resit would probably never leave Earth again.

“Al Shei!”

“Lipinski?” she murmured. Al Shei’s legs kicked out, as if there was a current she could fight against. “Help me.”

No, Beloved. Don’t leave me.

“Asil,” she gasped, flailing with her arms, trying to steady herself, stop the ceaseless rolling around her. “Don’t do this to me, Beloved.”

I love you. You’re tired. You don’t have to go back.

Her helmet vibrated and her ears heard “thunk!” A silver lasso glided past her faceplate. Wonderingly, she reached out and grasped the noose. She tilted backwards to look along its length and saw the bulk of the Pasadena at the other end. The rope tugged in her hand and her tired fingers tightened around it automatically. She could see a suited figure leaning out the half-open airlock. Probably Schyler. Yerusha would be in the pilot’s chair, worrying about thrust, velocity and drift. Only Schyler would be stupid enough to stand in the airlock and watch the winch do its work.

 
Katmer.

She closed her eyes, but what she really wanted to close was her mind. She wanted to close off the treacherous voice of love that beckoned her to the stars, but it wouldn’t be silenced.

With all the strength she had left, Al Shei clung to the life line and let it pull her back to the Pasadena.

Al Shei stood on the balcony, letting her fingertips rest lightly on the railing. The breeze, smelling of plants and dust, tugged at her clothes and brushed against her eyes. Vashti was down in the courtyard with a couple of her teammates, practising. Muhammad was in his room studying. Uncle Ahmet and Grandmother had found someone else to bother. Even Resit, back from securing Tully an eight-year work-and-surveillance sentence, had decided it might be better to keep away for awhile.

So she stood outside, using up her open-air ration without purpose. Just standing without responsibilities or duties. Just trying not to wonder what she was going to do next.

Uncle Ahmet had made it perfectly clear he would support any job she chose to take up, as long as it didn’t involve leaving the Solar system. He even offered to buy her a shuttle and set her up on the Inner Planets run, if she persisted in her need to get off Earth.

And for five minutes, she had actually considered it.

Grandmother had suggested that she consolidate her resources and purchase a husband, a good one, of course, with references, so she could go back to the Pasadena and still leave the children with a father and family.

And for five minutes she had considered that.

Resit had suggested she just snap out of it.

Which was probably the best suggestion she’d heard in weeks. Al Shei leaned both elbows on the railing and rubbed her hands together. The palms and scrub that surrounded the apartment building rattled in the fresh breeze. Tiny insects buzzed around her face. She didn’t bother to shoo them away. Her wrist band beeped, reminding her she had ten minutes to get indoors before she risked a fine for potential un-balancing of recovery efforts. She ignored it.

“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?”