Join (33 page)

“As I'm sure you both know, we have done our best to find a treatment for this condition. Without success. But now, Hamish tells us he may have a protocol that works. To learn what Hamish has to teach us, we need you. We will gratefully accommodate and protect you.”

“You say you work closely,” Leap Four says. “Can't Hamish just tell you what he's discovered.”

Excellence smiles. “Hamish?”

“Of course,” Hamish says. “The first time I completed this treatment, I was essentially acting on a hunch. I am still trying to grasp the full implications of that success. My ideas would seem bizarre, would generate a great deal of confusion and disagreement, if I simply tried to communicate them. The evidence of a shared procedure, on the other hand, would be persuasive. And an active flip is valuable. In any other facility, I would not have absolute control over the process, as I require. Without a clear, common understanding of my ideas, any number of things could go wrong. No. I'll offer my work in the context of a treatment, and only in that context.”

“As you've said,” Excellence notes. “And we're grateful for it.”

Excellence turns his attention to Leap Four. “We have tried to convince him to work directly with us. His understanding of the network is too valuable to leave his well-being to the quality of the jury-rigged air-filtration system that his band of rebels is protecting him with. Forgive me, Hamish. We want him to be safe, to carry on his work. But he has other ideas, so we work with him on his terms. We are comfortable compromising where it makes sense and partnering to reach common goals.

“Many have the mistaken impression that the Directorate is driven by a thirst for power, a desire to shape the fate of our species. They believe we are megalomaniacs who are trying to rule the world and to have everything for ourselves. I speak for the board and the executives of Vitalcorp when I assure you that is just not the case. The greatest gift of Join is perspective. We're at the very beginning of understanding this technology and its implications. Its potential wasn't dreamed up by clever MBAs. It's real. Advocate's dreams are real.”

“Sir,” says Leap Four, “respectfully, the people here, in this facility with Hamish . . .” Chance glances over at Hamish, who is listening intently, worried. In the darkness at the side of the room, Don Kim shifts, becomes more alert. “The people here,” Leap continues, “are solos, for the most part. They're not worried about the network. They're worried about other things.”

“Yes, so they are,” says Excellence. “Well, I am going to say something that I hope you will not repeat. Something that will make a considerable difference and that I'm sure will be welcomed by all of those working with Hamish. We are going to launch a program shortly that will be very meaningful to them.

“It's been forty years since the first join. There are children being raised today by parents who have never known a world without Join. It's time to move to the next level, and we're prepared to do that. It's not public yet, but it will be soon. We're going to change the ground rules. We're going to make licensing very inexpensive, free in many cases. Everyone, and I mean everyone, will be able to afford it. There will no longer be any reason for anyone to remain solo.”

Leap is unsure of how to respond. As she hesitates, Excellence recognizes his error. “Of course,” he catches himself. “That's not what you meant.”

“No,” she agrees, and there is a silence.

“I see,” he says. “Well, still. That's a secret.” Chance chuckles. Excellence smiles.

Excellence then says. “You're talking about the planet. The storms?”

“Yes,” says Leap.

“Solos are generally more concerned about that because they feel vulnerable. Joins are able to take a broader view. You understand the benefits of Join, so you know what I'm talking about. But we understand that there are issues to address. We will address them. You will start to see very significant changes very soon. You have my word on it. No one takes these threats more seriously than I do, and I speak for all of Vitalcorp when I say that.”

Leap appears to be considering a reply, but Hamish says, “Thank you, Excellence. The offer of a premier join facility to complete the treatment is extremely generous. Of course, I can't speak for Leap, but I trust this opportunity to demonstrate some of the practical applications of my recent network advances will result in a fruitful collaboration.”

Excellence appears satisfied. “As do I, Hamish. We need to be working together on these things. They are so important. Thank you for contacting me this morning.”

“Not at all, Excellence, not at all.”

“I look forward to our shared success.”

The black screen with the logo on the embossed seal of Excellence's office replaces the live feed. Then lights come up, and the video display turns off.

Chance is stunned, “I can't
believe I was just in a vid con with Hamish Lyons and Excellence.”

Don is standing at the end of the row of chairs. “Starstruck?”

“I guess so.”

Leap Four says, “He doesn't have a clue.”

Hamish turns toward her quickly, “Of course it does. It is a very serious mistake to underestimate Excellence.”

Leap Four says, “His attitude toward solos—”

“Is realistic.” Hamish interrupts her. “And if it says it's working on environmental concerns, then it is working on environmental concerns.”

Leap Three is leaning forward, with the elbows of his long arms on his thighs, stretching his lower back. He and Don exchange a look that Hamish misses.

Leap Four says, her voice taut with restraint, “I've worked with a lot of people who had neat answers to difficult questions. I had to come up with a few myself, when I was fighting for the bank. I don't trust him.”

Hamish says, with a persuasive calm, “Integrity is among Excellence's defining characteristics.”

“Integrity is often the problem,” Leap Four says. Then, “What happens next?”

Hamish stands. “This is very important,” he says. “You have to decide.”

“Whether to do the join here, or in a Vitalcorp facility?”

“Yes.”

“What do you recommend?”

“I think it would be an enormous mistake to do it here. In twelve years, we've done the procedure eight times and failed twice. Both of our failures killed both participants.”

Chance says, “Can Leap trust Vitalcorp?”

Hamish is emphatic. “Leap can trust Excellence without reservation. Every single word Excellence said during that conference was true to the extent of its understanding and was spoken without artifice. What you may perceive as deceptive, or evasive, is simply its nature. It does not intend to manipulate you. It is as open and honest in its dealings as human nature allows. It is a very great human being.”

Leap Four says, “I just don't understand. What do you get out of working with Vitalcorp?”

“I am working on a treatment for flips.”

“And why are they so interested in this work?”

Hamish blinks and then slowly sits back down, the energy and force he had shown just a moment before abruptly gone. He says, “They hope”—he pauses, gathering his thoughts, then starts again—“they hope to learn how to create subnet joins.”

“What?” Chance says. “You've been working on that
here
?”

“No, not me,” says Hamish.

Chance Four says slowly, “But your work can help them do it?”

“It may,” Hamish says.

Elicia, who has been standing near the wall, takes a step forward. She is watching Hamish and is clearly shaken by his sudden uncertainty. “Hamish, what's a subnet join?”

“It's a way around the twenty-drive limit,” Chance Four answers. Hamish is turned inward. He's looking at nothing, completely lost in thought.

Chance continues, “If subnets are a viable way to deal with the physiological limits we're encountering, then they might safely get us around the twenty-drive limit. Developing subnets might allow an unlimited number of joins.”

“The whole human race,” says Leap Three.

Don smiles wryly and says, “Oh, what'd they call it? ‘Assimilation'?”

Chance One and Leap Two
are playing chess, many years before. They're in a suite they rented in the Tzinquaw Aerie, a high, solitary spire in the Olympic Mountains, only accessible by pod. The suite has no interior walls, and the external walls are all transparent. It's winter and the landscape is buried in snow, but the sun is roaming near the horizon, and their suite is flooded with cool light.

The sky is clear, but a fast wind worries itself against every outcrop of the spire, creating a faint and high-pitched hum. Both drives are naked, sitting on the floor on top of thick, down comforters. They made love, then napped; had toast with sunflower butter, mimosas out of the central larder; stretched; gazed out from their perfectly climate-controlled perch over the high, windswept, and rocky spine that descends into the frozen lands surrounding them, the rolling miles of snow and wind below, the ragged peaks and serried ridges that cup the sky around them.

Leap's game is quick, surprising. She often opens critical vulnerabilities in her board position, but just as often creates unexpected threats. Chance is methodical, comprehensive, and can be beaten by unexpected tactics deployed with resolution and courage. They're a good match. Chance tries to play when he can borrow cycles from drives who are resting. From things Leap has said, he believes she takes similar precautions.

She lifts a knight but, instead of moving it, regards it speculatively. “You know, chess pieces should join,” she says.

“Then they'd be Legos. Different game.”

“No, I mean, if the king could see what the rook sees, or the knight, would that change his play?”

“Well, that's . . . the king does see, through you. You see the whole board position.”

She sits back. Her body is lit brightly by the sunlight stretching through the curved glass on her right. Her center and her left side are lightly shadowed. The sunlight draws Chance's eye to the line running from beneath her arm to the side of her breast, the full curve from under the nipple back to her side, and then the answering curve of her body that starts beneath her breast and arcs to her hips as she bends forward, examining the knight pensively.

“I think that's what I actually mean,” she says. “Not that the individual pieces of one color become joined but that pieces from both sides of the board should join. How would the game look to a single mind who was playing both the white and the black pieces?”

“You mean a practice game?”

“No, not at all. I mean if the stakes were real, and you actually saw all of the pieces in motion. You chose the moves for each one—”

“Would there be a point to it then? What would the stakes be, if there was no opposition?”

“Exactly. That's what I mean, I think.”