Divergence (16 page)

“Chris?” said Maurice. “This oh-so-powerful AI that you mentioned?”

“He’s part of it,” said Judy. “But I think it runs much deeper than that.”

She shuddered and folded her hands in her lap. She looked over towards the apples, green and jolly in their crates. Maurice wondered if he should offer to fetch her one.

“Shall I…?” he began.

“Tell me about Miss Rose,” said Judy. “She wasn’t on Breizh, was she? How did she come to join you?”

Maurice was still fiddling with his console, peering intently at one of the ships indicated on the display.

“That ship there,” he said, pointing to an amber arrow, “the
A Capella
—I bet you it makes contact with us in the next few minutes.” He looked at Judy thoughtfully. “Miss Rose? She was on the, oh, I can’t remember its name, the
Yellow River
or something. They had too many passengers on board; too many minds. They were having problems with Dark Seeds. A Dark Plant had taken root somewhere in the ship, but they couldn’t find it.”

Judy shivered.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No, go on.”

“Most of an FE ship is off-limits to humans—did you know that? Passengers were going to sleep on that ship not knowing what they would wake up to. I saw one of them wrapped up in a cocoon of BVBs, like a mummy. You can’t cut BVBs. Nothing can. The man inside them was dying a slow death.”

Now it was Maurice’s turn to shiver. “They wanted to reduce the number of people on board. Fewer minds means fewer people to pick up on the flux. They did a Fair Exchange. We got Miss Rose.”

He paused significantly, inviting the question that Judy now supplied.

“And what did you get in return?”

“Nothing, of course,” said Maurice with satisfaction. “The FE software deemed that her presence on board the ship was payment enough.”

“That fact doesn’t upset you as much as it does Saskia, does it?” Judy observed.

Maurice was peering thoughtfully at his console again.

“It doesn’t annoy me. If anything it makes me feel nervous,” he said. “I’m beginning to think there’s more to the FE software than we have been told. A
lot
more.”

“So am I,” said Judy softly.

“And it makes me worried,” said Maurice. “Miss Rose is over eighty years old, senile, and a kleptomaniac. What is she going to do for us to earn her passage?”

They gazed at each other. Judy was about to say something significant, something about FE—Maurice just knew it—but at that moment the
A Capella
made contact.

“Hello,
Eva Rye.
We hear you are going to Earth. Do you wish to trade?”

Saskia usually took a good half an hour to wake up properly. Sitting up in bed, with red lines from the pillow creases on her cheek, she was not at her best.

“They want us to take
what
to Earth?” she said blearily, looking at the glass of water she was holding in her hand. “Hold on, I’ll come down there right away.”

“Saskia, what’s the point?” said Maurice patiently. “Does it make any difference if you watch a viewing field here with us in the hold, or you watch one alone in your cabin?”

Saskia put down the glass without taking a sip. She looked so soft and childlike while half asleep. Maurice imagined she would smell of toothpaste and warm bedclothes.

“Okay,” she said, stifling a yawn, “put them through. I’ll speak to them here, then.”

“I should warn you…” began Maurice.

“Just put them through.”

Maurice shrugged. He took a certain pleasure in seeing Saskia’s surprise as the captain of the
A Capella
appeared before her.

“How old are you?” she asked, sounding insulted.

“Eleven,” said the boy in the viewing field. He was a good-looking lad, thought Maurice, with a nice smile, big brown eyes, and olive skin. “Are you Saskia?”

“I am. Do your parents know what you are doing right now?”

“They do,” said the boy. “My name is Ben. A systems-repair unit recommended that I take command of the ship during a Fair Exchange we made a few months ago.”

Saskia frowned. Maurice knew what she was thinking. The Stranger had recommended that Edward should command the
Eva Rye,
and they had ignored its suggestion.

“Ben,” called Maurice, “how do you know we are going to Earth?”

“Our FE software told us,” the boy replied smugly. “
Eva Rye,
heading to Earth, ETA five days from now. Can’t your FE do that yet?”

Saskia sat up straighter on her bed. She was wearing blue-checked pajamas that fastened up to her neck. They made her look even more like a little girl. She gave a dismissive gesture.

“Of course it can,” she lied. “Tell me, what is it you want taken to Earth?”

“Some crates,” said Ben.

“What’s in them?”

“Active suits.”

“Active suits? Aren’t they dangerous?”

“These ones are perfectly safe,” said Ben.

“So you say. I hear they walk around on their own, looking for trouble.”

“Only if they’re activated. These ones are currently set to dormant.”

“But isn’t it true that they can rouse themselves in times of danger?”

Ben waved dismissively. “I told you, they’re perfectly safe. The FE software issued a digital certificate confirming this.”

“Okay.” But Saskia didn’t look as if it was okay. “Well, if they’re that safe, why don’t
you
take them to Earth?”

Ben spoke to someone standing outside the viewing field. Maurice strained to hear what was said. The boy nodded his head and then replied to her.

“Earth is too unstable. We dare not go there.”

Saskia gave a tired groan. Maurice realized that Judy was watching him watching Saskia in the console. She wore that impassive expression of hers. What was she thinking? He dismissed the thought and turned back to the job at hand.

“What are we going to do, Saskia?” he asked.

“We might as well take the suits with us,” said Saskia irritably. “We’re going to Earth anyway. You sort it all out, Maurice. I’m going back to sleep.”

She reached out, and the viewing field from which she spoke shrank to nothing, leaving Maurice alone in the little hold with Judy and the image of Ben. He realized everyone was looking at him.

Fine
. Maurice stared at the space where she had just been.
Just fine. As soon as the heat is on, you dodge the decisions.

“What do you think we should do, Judy?” Maurice asked, turning to her.

“I’m just a passenger,” said Judy. “But, as you’re asking me, I say make it easy on yourself. I told you, someone is planning my life for me. If they want us to take those crates with us, then you’ll be wasting your time trying to resist them.”

Maurice rubbed his hands together thoughtfully.

“Okay, Ben, we’ll trade.”

“Good,” said Ben. “I’ll get my dad to start the FE process.”

The boy glanced out of the range of the viewing field again, as if listening to someone nearby. Maurice noted the décor on the other ship: a tropical collection of bamboo and woven grass. Did they have the heating turned up on board there to complement the décor? Did they spend their evenings drinking long cool drinks in sand-covered leisure rooms?

Ben was nodding his head. “Oh, yes,” he was saying, “good idea.”

He turned back to Maurice. “Listen,
Eva Rye,
don’t bother plotting an intercept course. We’ll launch the cargo into space. Your course will intersect with it in just over four hours. You can pick it up as you pass.”

Maurice bit his lip as he reached for his console. Somebody had all this planned out in advance. What were the chances of two ships flying on such similar courses in the vastness of space?

He activated the FE software. “I’m handshaking now.”

“Good, we’ll speak to you soon.”

Ben’s viewing field shrank away to nothing.

In the hollow space of the little cargo hold, Maurice watched flowing colors ripple into life above his console as the
Eva Rye
’s FE software hand-shook with that of the
A Capella
.

Silence fell in the little hold. Black-and-white tiles twinkled amongst the sparse collection of crates that lay scattered about over the walls and ceiling.

“Can I give you some advice?” said Judy suddenly.

“Would I be able to stop you?”

“Sleep with Saskia,” said Judy, ignoring his weary tone. “You are both sexually frustrated and more compatible than you would imagine: I saw the way you looked at her in that viewing field. I think recreational sexual intercourse would do you both some good.”

Maurice turned and stared at her. He was already voicing his reply before he properly had time to think about it.

“Well, if we’re being frank, why don’t I sleep with you instead? You’re so good at reading people, you must know I find you attractive.”

“You can’t sleep with me. I’m a virgin,” said Judy simply. “I thought I told you this already. Besides which, you find Saskia more attractive—you just don’t know it yet. Now, why don’t you play me a tune on your clarinet?”

Maurice stroked the case and said nothing.

“Okay,” said Judy, “let’s make it worth your while. Let’s put it through the FE software. You play for me, and I’ll sleep with you. We’ll get FE to work out the difference on the transaction.”

Maurice turned pale. “Don’t make jokes like that, Judy. You don’t know what FE is like. Your virginity will come at too high a price. You’ve no idea how such a transaction would affect the ship!”

“I’ll take the risk if you will, Maurice.”

Maurice was frightened. Judy was gazing at him like a robot might.
It’s not me she’s doing this to,
he thought.
She’s doing this to make a point—but to herself.
A flicker on the console caught his eye.

“There’s the next one.” He pointed, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“The next what?” asked Judy.

“The next FE-equipped ship. You’re right, Judy. Someone has something planned for us.”

He turned to face her, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.

“Who
are
you Judy?”

Judy said nothing. He began to wonder how old she was. Older than she looked, he guessed. The skin on her face was so smooth, and yet he noted tiny little lines at the edges of her eyes. She lacked some of the easy joy of a younger person, but she had gained the relaxed grace and poise of experience.

“Who
are
you?” he repeated. “When you say you’re a virgin, you make it sound like it’s some sort of species, not a life choice.”

“Who
am
I?” said Judy. And for a moment Maurice expected to hear the words “no one special,” but he realized this was not what Judy was thinking. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Me?” she repeated. “I’m Judy. I had twelve copies made of my mind. We were all virgins, and we all pledged to remain so.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand. But it was a way of holding something in common. We all worked for Social Care, myself and my twelve digital sisters.”

“What’s the matter? What happened? You look so wistful.”

Judy brushed her hands through her hair again.

“They were all killed,” she said, “each and every one of them.”

“But why?”

“Chris! I told you, Chris had my sisters killed because he thought that it would help me to see his point of view.” Her dark eyes were fixed upon his. He wanted to look away. She went on in her soft voice. “Chris had an associate called Kevin. Have you ever heard of him? Kevin? Almost a man. He wasn’t a human as such, nor an atomic being like you or me. He was digital construct, an AI written by DIANA. That’s a coincidence, isn’t it? It was a DIANA ship that found me, a DIANA ship that performed FE with you…”

“But why did Kevin kill your sisters?”

“To get my attention.”

“But that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? It worked. Chris and Kevin were convinced that I would see their point of view, once they had explained it to me. They are sure that someday I too will want to help them usurp the Watcher.”

Maurice made a little noise in his throat. He couldn’t speak. He swallowed hard.

“Do you?” he said.

Judy’s gaze hardened.

“No.
Never.
I used to work for Social Care, remember.” She leaned closer to him, full of conviction. “Listen, no matter how bad things have become on Earth, no matter what the Watcher needs to do to win the fight against the dark plants, I will not forsake it, neither will I forget the role that I have taken on. The Watcher exists to nurture humans.”

Maurice felt uncomfortable at the sheer belief resonating through her words. This missionary zeal, this conviction that humanity could be guided to a better path by Social Care, did not play well with the milk-and-water principles by which most of the people in the twenty-third century lived their lives. And Judy knew it; she was eyeing him with a scornful expression. She knew about him, she was taunting him.
Who are you, now that Armstrong has gone
? she was saying.
How are you going to dress, who are you going to look up to on this ship? Who will your role model be? Me? Do you dare?

Maurice recoiled, and the world seemed to lighten. He was still sitting in the little hold. Judy was just a tired, sick woman. It was all in his imagination.

He needed to speak. “I have heard it’s bad on Earth, but can we blame the Dark Plants? The Dark Plants are not that dangerous, surely. I know that they cause problems, but the Watcher is—”

Judy was rattled. She was allowing her emotion to show. She leaned forward and her eyes glittered. He could smell cinnamon on her breath.

“Believe me, Maurice, the Dark Plants are that great a threat.”

She broke off.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being terribly unprofessional. I will compose myself.”

Maurice’s console chimed. The FE software had exchanged circumstances. Now it was calculating the deal. Maurice couldn’t help but notice the way Judy seemed to flinch every time she looked at the console. She looked away, looked around the empty space of the little hold, looked up at the crates stacked on the ceiling that seemed to hang over her head. You could walk up the walls in here, following the curving paths set between the planes of the floors and ceiling and walls. You could follow a circular route in any direction, always pulled to the nearest surface by the six-way gravity. There was a dead spot in the middle of the room, an area of weightlessness where they stored special cargoes. Scented paper sculptures, crystal lattice forms, pingrams.