Moving Mars (54 page)

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Authors: Greg Bear

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction, #High Tech, #Mars (Planet), #Space colonies

BOOK: Moving Mars
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Nehemiah Royce, Tamara Kwang and Mitchell Maspero-Gambacorta sat in chairs near a table that supported two QLs with integral interpreters. I had not seen these particular units; they had been installed in the past few days.

Were finished educating and updating the QLs, Tamara said, glancing at us uncertainly. Theyre informed. Her head carried several small nano connectors; the plan had been for her to back up Charles in an emergency.

Good, Charles said. Id like to show the President and Vice President what we know about the Ice Pit.

Tamara and Nehemiah worked for a few moments to bring up displays controlled by the interpreter: graphs and charts and picts showing fluctuations in quantities as yet unexplained to us. One vid picture, however, was very clear: a crisp, full-color, three-dimensional view of a hallway filled with men and women and arbeiters carrying equipment.

This is a direct link, optical transfer, Charles said. The Ice Pit contains a huge Pierce regionthe tweaker that William Pierce made by accident. Its a larger version of our own, ready-made. Were looking at a laboratory just outside the Ice Pit.

Live? Ti Sandra asked.

Next best thing to being there, Royce said, smiling.

Do they know were looking at them? And what are we looking through? I asked.

We can adjust part of the shielding around the Ice Pit region to have optical properties, Charles said. The region the tweakercan transmit images and sound back to our own tweaker, Charles said. Theyve dug out a chamber next to the Ice Pit, set up a research center. Theyre not aware that were spying on them.

The Ice Pit region and all of our Pierce regions are the same, Nehemiah said. All tweakers are essentially coexistent.

Tweaker Ti Sandra said.

We call it a tweaker when we adjust things with it. The Ice Pit tweaker appears larger than ours, but that doesnt matter. Theyre conterminous, and continuous.

Just an example of the identity of all undescribed elements in the dataflow matrix, Nehemiah said.

That makes it much more clear, Ti Sandra said.

Nehemiah struggled onward. Tweakers are undescribed, blank. They can become anything.

Well stick with the important issues for now, Charles said. They seem to know how significant the Ice Pit is, and they seem to know what to do with it. Notice these things He pointed to several rounded cubes resting in intricate slings. High-level thinkers. At least one of them is a QL, but weve never seen thinkers like them. Large, probably very powerful.

More subtle and multiplex than anything we can manufacture, Nehemiah said.

Coming to the Moon to use the Ice Pit means they havent been able to create their own tweaker, Leander said.

Perhaps, Charles said. But they may be sequestering the Ice Pit to keep anybody else from getting access. We could learn how much they know right now, if you give us permission.

Ti Sandra spoke in an undertone to one of her guards, and he stood aside to pass her orders along through his slate. How? she asked, turning back to us.

If they know this is a direct link, they can receive signals from us. Theyre listening to itso to speakright now. Thats what we did at first, to understand the nature of a tweaker. We can make the Ice Pit tweaker resonate and pass them a message.

Lieh entered the space and stood beside Ti Sandra. Leander quickly explained the image and its implications.

What would we say to them? Ti Sandra asked.

If weve given up any plan to leave the Solar System, then we need to resume full and public negotiations with Earth immediately, Charles said. We could use this as a faster, more efficient channel. But it would have the effect of startling them.

Ti Sandra grimaced. If we talk to them, assure them of our peaceful intentions, she said, will that be enough? How can they believe us, after whats happened?

They must believe, Charles said. Were sunk if they dont. Somebody will make a pre-emptive strike.

Ti Sandra snorted. Pre-emptive. That word so twentieth century.

They must also be made to believe we have complete control of Preamble, Leander continued. That there are no splinter groups or dissenters with the same capability.

Ti Sandra nodded to Lieh. Im afraid Point One doesnt have good news for us. Tell us the details, Lieh.

Earths a shambles right now, politically, Lieh said. Theyre paralyzed by unending plebiscites. There have been recalls on every board member and syndic of the four major alliances. Ambassadors have been recalled for consultation.

War footing? Charles asked.

Probably not, Lieh said. Just confusion. Whoever okayed the Freezeprobably high syndics in GEWAhas stirred up a cyclone. It keeps getting worse. Weve received millions of messages from Terries offering their support. But weve received even more messages expressing sheer terror.

Is anybody able to govern? Ti Sandra asked.

In national politics, the paralysis is complete. We dont know about the alliances. They operate at a higher level plebiscite of the legislatures of the national governments, effectively. All our flies have gone quiet. There are searchers out on all nets, public and private. Somebody in GEWA has authorized central thinker net dumps of all data seeks for certain patterns of subjects. Theyll learn who some of our flies are. Except for public nets, well be almost blind.

Theyre violating their own laws, I said. That tells us a lot in itself.

Theyre not completely paralyzed, Charles said. Somebody is funding the scientists. Theyre working around the clock at the Ice Pit.

Talk to them as soon as you can, however you can, Ti Sandra said. Direct link or regular channels.

I wish to clarify one thing, Charles said. Our options are not reduced. I have complete confidence that we could do everything weve planned to do, without repeating the mistake of our last trip.

Would you wager five million lives on your success, Mr. Franklin? Ti Sandra asked grimly.

I cant, he said.

Would you? she demanded, her voice rising.

Charles did not flinch or even blink. I would, he said. But Casseia might disqualify me.

Why?

My proximity to the QL, he said.

It was the thinkerthe QL thinkerthat made the mistake, wasnt it? Ti Sandra asked.

It wasnt a mistake, Charles said.

Poor Galena Cameron might not agree, Ti Sandra said. She gestured for a chair to be brought forward, and reclined in it slowly, never taking her eyes from Charless face. I had seen her assume this attitude of concentration before, but never with such intensity.

The QL saw an opportunity to serve its purpose more deeply, Charles said. It could not know the effect on human observers. It cant even model us effectively.

What would keep it from doing something even more foolish? Ti Sandra said. Charles winced but did not challenge the adjective.

It realized immediately that it would never search for truths again, any truths of any kind, if it ceased to exist, he said.

I dont know what that means, Ti Sandra said.

It learned fear, Charles said.

Ti Sandra leaned back, still frowning, and rubbed her hands on her knees. Then she stood and put her arm on my shoulders. I understand so little, she murmured. King Arthur never understood Merlin, did he?

I doubt it, I said.

Weve accomplished so much, Charles said plaintively. Everyone has worked their fingers to the bone on this. I think the idea should be kept openagainst the chance that Earth does something drastic.

Everythings in place, I said. Theres no reason to dismantle it. But it wont be our main emphasis.

What about the areological reports? Leander asked. What about all the other balls weve started rolling?

We wont shut them down. Theyre all useful as general knowledge, I said.

And us? Charles asked, holding his hand out to his colleagues.

Keep track of the Ice Pit, I said. I think Lieh should work with you.

Were reduced to spies, then, Charles said.

We stared at the image of a place hundreds of millions of kilometers away, at men and women and arbeiters moving purposefully before their own mystery. On the Moon, a woman in protective clothingblack, thick on her body, wrinkled like elephant hide, perhaps to protect against radiation and coldapproached our locus of observation. Her image suddenly skewed and smearedtoo close for whatever descriptor optics the Olympians had devised. How much do they understand? I asked.

A lot, Charles said. Or they wouldnt be there.

What can they do, if they harness the Ice Pit properly? I asked Charles.

Everything we can do, he replied. Unless theyve learned more than we have. In which case, they can do more.

I walked alone across a flat, sandy, unspoiled area half a kilometer outside of the station, on the Up. I was supposed to be sleeping, but it was early morning and my head buzzed with too many problems. I did not want to induce sleep again. I had been doing that too much lately.

I had put on a guard pressure suit and sneaked outside through a newly-finished maintenance corridor frequented only by construction arbeiters. Once outside, I walked across the pebbly hard ground, in the only area free of nasty glassy lava shards, kicking my boots lightly against the brown and orange varnish. High crystal clouds crossed the dawn and refracted rainbow glints. It was cold nowabout eighty below at Kaibabs altitudebut the suit provided ample insulation, and I really did not give a damn about the danger.

We had actually contemplated moving our entire planet, changing the lives of every inhabitant of Mars, simply to avoid a showdown with Earth. That seemed incredibly cowardly to me now. I tried to imagine the journey to the new system, across thousands of light-years that did not really exist, and even with the enhancement providing all of its sophistication, in my deep gut, I knew it had to have been a dream, and a bad dream at that.

I squinted at the western horizon. Phobos would rise soon, and shortly after, Deimos. I squatted on the rough ground, drooped my head, and stared at the dirt between my legs.

Casseia, Cassie, woman, daughter, wife, no longer existed. I had had my roots torn out too many times. I could not just dig my hand into this soil and grow some new consciousness, some new center to my beingMars itself was not ours, not mine. We had come from places very far away. We were invaders, dug into the surface like chiggers in skin. Mars belonged to a stillborn biosphere.

I could not find anything at my centerno emotion, no enthusiasm. Nothing but duty.

My arms trembled. I willed them to stop but they did not. I was not cold. My legs began to shiver next, and my toes curled in their boots. My suit voice inquired, Are you feeling well?

No, I murmured.

This suit does not monitor a medical emergency, but it will send out a distress signal if you speak aloud the word Yes, or curl your right hand into a loose fist.

No, I said.

This question will be repeated in two minutes if your symptoms have not improved.

No, I said.

I looked up. There were people standing on the sand and pebbles, not wearing suits. They regarded me curiously.

My mother approached first and kneeled before me. Behind her came Orianna from Earth and my brother Stan. Stan carried his young son. Oriannas face was blank, but I sensed some resentment. If Phobos had ever fallen on Earth, she would have died. Particular and immediate recognition of the enormity of my guilt.

Im having a problem, I thought. Im having a nervous breakdown.

My mother touched my arm but I felt nothing. Stan came forward. His little boy dropped to the ground as Stan released him. The boy wobbled from leg to leg, learning to walk. Infants learned to walk sooner on Mars.

I heard Stans voice but did not understand anything he said. His tone seemed reassuring.

After a few minutes of watching the phantoms, alive and dead, I numbly got to my feet, brushed dust from my suit bottom and legs, and turned slowly to survey all of Kaibab.

It isnt over, I said. I cant afford this luxury. I have to hold on.

Stan nodded, and my mother assumed an expression of understanding sadness. They behaved like mimes; a little exaggerated. Mother, Im very glad to see you again, looking so good, I told her. I wish you could talk to me.

She shrugged and smiled, still mute. Stan muttered something but foam seemed to fill my ears.

When this is all over, I said, I will take a few weeks and visit the dead. Ill go crazy just to be with you. Okay?

Mother tilted her head to one side and gave me her enigma look.

Wheres Ilya? I asked.

Here, he said behind me, and I turned, smiling, full of joy.

I lay on the ground. For a moment I thought somebody had knocked me down, but I had reclined purposefully and simply did not remember. My throat hurt abominably. I wondered what would make it hurt so. The rim of my helmet was damp around my neck and in the seals below my chin. Oh, I thought. Crying and screaming.

Affect distancing. I could not acknowledge my weakness by mourning openly. I could not let anyone, even myself, see how far gone I actually was. So I saw ghosts and blanked out to give my body time to release its misery. The mind put on a distracting show and performed its ablutions in primal privacy.

I had been on the surface for two hours. I felt different not better, but different. I walked across the waste and re-entered the lock, using my private key, which opened all doors in Kaibab. The lock closed behind me.

I sucked the dust away, showered quickly in my room, and dressed for the morning meetings.

Back to business. Nobody the wiser.

But my time was running out.

Ti Sandra and her entourage, including Lieh and four of the top Point One people assigned to Preamble, returned the next day to Many Hills. We parted with warm hugs in the offices outside the main lab.

I hate to see us get so worn down, she said, holding me at arms length. As always now, we were surrounded by guards and aides; this was as close to privacy as we could manage, President and Vice President together. Youre like a sister to me, Cassie. Promise me well come out of this and retire to run our own station. Youll be the syndic and Ill manage a tea farm. Honorable Martians all.

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