The Mind Pool (34 page)

“And to human thought,” added Angel’s metallic voice. “This is one area in which the Angel emulation function for other intelligences is not adequate. And so we say it again, Chan: Tell us your plan.”

“You don’t understand.” Was he being insulted, or complimented? “Maybe humans are an aggressive species, but I’m not an aggressive
individual.
Can’t you see the difference? I have no experience of war, no idea how it is conducted. I have never been involved in a battle, never even taken part in individual combat. I wouldn’t know how to
begin
a military action.”

He was not getting through. The silence of the others was like reproof.

“Before a Pipe-Rilla mates,” said S’greela at last. “She cannot imagine how such a thing could be possible. The joining of bodies, the twisting limbs, the shrills and squeaks and groans—they are grotesque, disquieting, and disgusting. But when the time arrives, and the partner is there . . . she mates. It happens. Without thought. And after it is finished it is again bizarre, again incredible. The action does not come through analysis or experience. It comes from some somatic memory, stored within brain and body.”

“And so it must be with you,” said Angel. “Make us a plan to destroy the Simulacrum. It is within you, because you are human.
You are large, you contain multitudes.
You can
create
a plan.”

Chan’s guilt was turning to anger. They were refusing all responsibility! He glared around him at the others, the impassive bulk of Angel, the nervous stoop of S’greela, the restless fluttering of the Tinker. “When I was sent here to Barchan, I was told that I would become part of a
team.
It was made clear to me that we would all be
equal partners,
and we would all contribute to solving our problems. There was never a suggestion that three of us would sit around and expect the fourth one to do the thinking and give the orders. You keep telling me to make a plan. What are
you
going to do? What do you think you are here for?”

“We will help to carry out your plan,” said Angel.
“Many hands make light work.”

“And we will do as much as we are able,” added Shikari humbly. “Chan, human anger is a terrifying thing to all of us. We see it growing within you as you speak. But you are directing it at the wrong target. We ask you only to do what we
cannot
do. Please be calm. Sit. Think. And then tell us where your thoughts have led you.”

“You still don’t understand,” began Chan. He glared down at the floor of the aircar. The Tinker was quite right. His anger
was
growing, like lava inside his chest. He didn’t even want to
look
at the other three. Any one of them was smarter than him—they had told him so. Any one of them could do a better job of planning than he could. But they were going to sit here, and sit forever, while the Simmie stayed safe in its hiding-place.

“Are you willing to invade the Dreamsea protected area?” he said, without looking up.

A high-pitched whistle of horror came from Shikari, and S’greela cluttered in disapproval.

“That is an unthinkable notion,” said Angel. “Unthinkable, we would hope, even for a human.”

“How about for observation only? Suppose it was guaranteed that no Shellback would be harmed—or even touched?”

“We would not trust such a guarantee. Suppose that the Simulacrum attacked you? We feel sure that you would insist on returning that attack. The Shellbacks might be harmed.”

“I was not thinking of myself. Not even of any one of us.”

“Who, then?” S’greela waved her jointed arms all around them. “We cannot communicate with the Shellbacks, to seek their assistance. They may be intelligent, but we four are the only
useful
intelligences on the planet.”

“I don’t want intelligence. According to our briefings, the Simmie will be wary of anything that shows signs of intelligence.” Chan turned to Shikari. “You told me that your individual components have two million neurons each, enough to eat, drink, mate and cluster. Suppose you made a small assembly of them. Could as few as ten or twenty components cluster?”

“It is possible. But it is never done. Why would we choose to do so? Such a tiny aggregate could not be intelligent.”

“That’s fine. Could such a small group take direction from the rest of you?”

“Primitive direction. Simple commands, no more.”

“But it could at least collect information?”

“Within limits.” A wave traveled across the Tinker’s upper body, a shrug of dismissal. “But what purpose would that serve? A small group could never integrate its information with anything else. We would not know how to interpret such data. It would be isolated and useless point inputs.”

“Maybe you couldn’t integrate it. Nor could I. But we have a superb integrator, right here.” Chan nodded at Angel. “Shikari, all you would need to do is form a number of very small assemblies and direct them to explore the region near the Simmie’s hideout. There would be no chance that they could harm the Simmie, or the Shellbacks. Could you do that?”

“Certainly. But to what end?”

“We need to know how it occupies its time, what it does during the days and nights. We have to understand it. Then we can lure it out, away from the Shellbacks’ protected area around Dreamsea.”

“But we have no idea what would be attractive to a Simulacrum,” protested S’greela. “Even when we know its habits, we will not know that.”

“You will not, and I will not.” Chan turned to the silent Angel. “But
you
will. Given enough information about the Simmie, its appearance and its structure and its habits, you can go into your emulator mode. You can mimic the thought patterns of the Simmie.”

“No. What you say is
partially
true. Given enough time and enough information, we can usually duplicate
some
of the thought patterns of another being within our own mental processes. But not always. As you know, we have been completely unsuccessful in replicating any element of human aggression.”

“Forget humans. Maybe we’re unique. What about the Simmie?”

“We do not have enough information. There has been no opportunity for interaction. Our limited observations—”

“—are going to be enough.” Chan interrupted Angel for the first time ever, and marvelled at his own nerve. “They have to be. Angel, I’m not asking for
perfection.
All I need is a good working imitation, something that we can use to guess how a Simmie may react in a given situation.”

“You suggest a
knowingly imperfect
thought simulation? One moment, if you please.” Angel’s fronds dropped, as communication halted between the Singer and the Chassel-Rose.

“Possibly,” it said at last.
“Necessity is the mother of invention.
I have within me a large general data bank regarding the Simulacrum, and perhaps a gross model of its mental processes can be achieved; perhaps enough to compare the
relative
probabilities of different courses of action, without assigning absolute values to any. But that process would take me a long time to accomplish, even with Shikari’s sub-group inputs on Simulacrum habits and environment.”

“How long?” Chan was not even going to mention his other worry: How to model the behavior of the team itself?

Angel drifted into another brooding silence. “If we can be left undisturbed, perhaps three days. And during that same period of time we can develop the mechanism to accept direct inputs from Tinker small sub-assemblies. To achieve that, Shikari and I must first become closely connected.”

Chan turned to the Tinker. “Can you? Can you set up connection with Angel?”

“The pleasure will be ours. No experience is more rewarding than close connection, and this one will be particularly intriguing.”

Shikari began to drift slowly toward Angel. In front of Chan, the Tinker paused. “May we begin at once, Chan? Or do you first prefer to tell us about
the rest
of your plan?”

Chapter 26

The Simulacra used in pursuit team training were modeled on Livia Morgans design, as re-interpreted through the work of Phoebe Willard. But they had been designed and built by the Margrave of Fujitsu. Inevitably, he had woven into their mental make-up some of his own aesthetics.

The habitat and lifestyle of the Simmie Artefact on Barchan suggested the Margrave’s sensibilities and appreciation of beauty. The Simmie had chosen a relatively exposed position on the shore of Dreamsea, a place where it could obtain the best views of Barchan’s long winter sunsets. Every evening Eta Cass-A shone golden-red through the dusty atmosphere, and the later setting of Eta Cass-B threw patterns of amber, garnet, and jet across the dark basaltic rocks.

According to Angel’s interpretation of data from the Tinker sub-assemblies who flew their sorties of the Dreamsea shore, the Simmie moved little from its preferred hiding place. It rested, half-hidden by a shallow ledge of rock that jutted out over Dreamsea’s bitter water, and gazed out across the tideless shore.

The attack plan would be Chan’s. It had to be. He was still skeptical of his abilities, but the others gave him no choice. They admitted human superiority in just one area: fighting.

But on every other issue, each one was more than ready to give him advice.

“It will be watchful, and suspicious, without a doubt,” said Angel, while the others gathered round and listened closely. Angel had been experimenting with more runs of Simmie thought processes, and was now convinced that the emulation was as good as it could be without actual contact. “However, its penchant for destruction is undetermined. The Simulacrum certainly does not destroy every life form that it encounters. It did injure a few Shellbacks, when it was first placed on Barchan and was establishing itself here; but we judge those to have been accidents. The Simulacrum shows little curiosity in small living things, and no fear of them. Shikari’s component flights near its hideout caused no action, and stirred no apparent interest. We do not believe that it will move from its hideout, solely to make an unprovoked attack.”

“For food, then?” S’greela had folded and re-folded her flexible body to form a compact mass. The Pipe-Rilla appeared as an isolated head, poking out from the dark surrounding mound of Tinker components.

“It does not need to move for food. Its requirements are few, and there is ample sustenance close to where it is living.”

“Are these things important?” said Shikari dreamily. As usual when it was clustered around one of the others, the Tinker was almost dormant. Scarcely a component was moving.

“We don’t know what’s important,” said Chan. “All I know is, you won’t let me attack the Simmie where it is.”

“Certainly not!” S’greela’s head jerked a couple of feet higher, dislodging several hundred Tinker components. “That was already agreed.”

“So we have no choice, we have to find a way to lure the Simmie out from Dreamsea. Angel, you’ve been giving me nothing but negatives. What
does
interest or alarm it?”

“We do not know. If you suggest alternatives, we can test them against the thought-process model. But so far we have found nothing that provides a strong stimulant, either positive or negative.”

“Hmmm.” Shikari was stirring now, aroused by S’greela’s sudden movement. The Tinker was close to maximum size. “Hmmm.”

The others waited. They were used to Shikari’s long integration time when all the components were clustered.

“We feel stupid to suggest this,” said the Tinker at last. “But we know how the Simmie chooses to spend most of its time. It watches the sun, the moon, the planets, and the stars. One of its interests must be astronomy. Would it possibly be willing to move for some extraordinary sight of them?”

Chan felt they were clutching at straws. But it was something to have the others at least
participate.
He turned to the immobile hulk of the Angel. “Can you run that?”

“We are already doing so. A few moments more.” A twenty second silence was broken only by the clucking of Angel’s communicator. Chan had learned to associate those chirps and clicks with massive computation within the Singer’s crystalline matrix.

“Shikari’s hypothesis can be sustained,” said Angel at last. “The Simulacrum is certainly an observer of celestial events. At a 0.88 probability level, it would move for a sight of something unprecedented in its astronomical experience. We have discovered no other stimulus that has better than 0.35 correlation with the observed Simulacrum movements.” There was a shorter silence, ended by a wiggle of Angel’s lower fronds and a very human-sounding sigh from its computer communicator. “Unfortunately, this conclusion appears to be of theoretical value only. We have checked the ephemeris relevant to Barchan. No sidereal events of an unusual nature can be expected for another half year.”

Chan nodded.

“You do not seem surprised, or dispirited,” said Shikari. “Perhaps you have it in mind to pray for a supernova?”

“Not quite. I find that prayers don’t work when you need them most. Unless you answer them for yourself.” While the others stared at him, Chan turned to S’greela. “You understand the mechanics of the aircar better than any of us. Can it be made to hover with no one on board, under automatic control and at a pre-determined height?”

“Certainly. That is trivial.”

“And could it be made to move with the stars, so that to an observer on the surface of Barchan it would appear to be far beyond the atmosphere?”

“Probably.” A speculative buzz came from the Pipe-Rilla. “With careful programming of the onboard control computer to refer movement to a sidereal reference frame, I think it can be done.”

“And it could be
shielded,
or illuminated from within, in such a way that it would appear as a natural stellar or planetary phenomenon in the observing wavelengths employed by the Simmie?”

“Possibly. For that, I must consult Angel.” S’greela was staring at Chan questioningly. “But to what avail, all this effort?”

“As a lure. We already know the terrain around the Simmie habitat, thanks to Shikari’s component flights. That gives us the topography, too, which tells us what will be visible from a particular location. If we were to plan for movement of the aircar, over several nights, so that a continued view of it would call for a particular ground path to be followed, leading away from the shore of Dreamsea—”