Spheres of Influence-eARC (37 page)

Chapter 47.

“She’s something pretty special, isn’t she?”

DuQuesne jumped, realizing he’d been staring out the port of his personal shuttle in silence ever since they’d gotten underway. “What?”

“Don’t try to hide it from me, Marc,” Oasis said, in tones only K would have used. “Don’t worry, it’s not jealousy. Or not much.”

He studied her, flaming red hair, green eyes, a half-smile on the lips he remembered…“I’d hope not. You don’t have anything to be jealous over.”

The smile faded. “Oh, Marc. Don’t tell me that in all that time—”

“I’m a product of my…fictional times, K…Oasis. You know that, better than anyone. I love you, probably did ever since the first moment we met, two who’d seen through the lies but found a truth worth fighting for. Did you think I’d just go…looking for someone else when I knew you were still
there
? When I knew the woman that was the best match imaginable was hurting, but might one day open up…”

“Oh,
God
, Marc. I’m…I should have…” She stopped, bit her lip. Then she managed a faint smile, tears waiting in her eyes. “Listen to us. Not so much supermen, eh?”

“Ha,” he said, with unsteadiness in his own voice. “Take a lot more than being a supergenius to get beyond being human. And we are human—that much I’ve finally really learned.”

“I guess I got to learn that a little easier than you. Oasis had a real family, and I got to live with them, letting her come and go, learning the world from inside…” She shrugged. “I cheated, I guess.”

“You’re talking like you’re separate again.”

“You cut that out!” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You have
no
idea how confusing all this is! We’d…I’d…I’d figured out how to
live
with it. It was a good life, and I
liked
living as Oasis.
Being
Oasis.”

“And I’d guess Oasis couldn’t complain about the body.”

“Once I got used to the modified face in the mirror?” The voice was as jaunty as the old K, but something in the wording, the posture, the exact tones, told him this was much more Oasis. “Bonus! I got an upgrade package I couldn’t believe. I think faster, I’m stronger, I’m tougher…and I’m probably living longer. Haven’t had to take a single rejuvenation reset yet. I’ll bet you haven’t, either.”

“No, not yet.”

They fell silent for a moment, and he gazed back out into space.
Not much farther to go.

Getting back to Earth space hadn’t been hard. Losing any possible pursuit had taken some time, and he hoped to
God
that the time wasn’t getting people killed. But here there weren’t miracles, and for all the technology humanity had developed, it still took time and effort to move around the Solar System.

Now they were almost to the backwater colony, Counter-Earth 3, that Davison had retreated to. He could see it now, a star slowly brightening, becoming something more than a star. Oasis-as-K knew who would be there with Davison, the other four sleepers; he’d had to warn her, so she was prepared. But they had avoided the subject of the past, for the most part, because to dwell on those who had been with them, and then lost to themselves, was almost unbearable.

“So,” Oasis said, “she
is
something special, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” he answered simply. “Yes, she is.” He looked over. “But so are you. Even more than you were.” He smiled and shook his head. “You gave up your
self
—the self you fought for, that
we
fought for—because you couldn’t stand to see someone die for no reason. So now you’re…more than either of you. And I wish I had something equal to that to brag about.”

“I think you do,” she said, gaze soft and green as spring leaves. “
This
is the Marc C. DuQuesne I knew…the one who disappeared, hid his real self away behind a shadow, buried, for fifty years. And you come back starting new legends.” Her eyes suddenly sparkled mischievously. “Let’s just agree we’re
both
awesome.”

He laughed out loud. “All right, you have a deal!”

Even as they smiled at each other, a deep, booming, resonant pseudo-voice thundered in his head.
AHH, MARC CASSIUS DUQUESNE OF TELLUS. I HAVE BEEN CONSIDERING YOUR SITUATION FOR SOME SEVENTY-TWO POINT SIX OF YOUR SECONDS.

DuQuesne jumped in his seat; fortunately the loose harness prevented this from becoming comical flailing. “
Klono’s Curving Carballoy
….Don’t
DO
that, Mentor!” He took a deep breath, calming himself, as Oasis looked at him in momentary confusion before realizing what was happening.

My apologies, Marc DuQuesne. I work in the manner I was designed.

“Which means you like the dramatics just as much as your template,” DuQuesne observed, glancing down at the hard-shelled case that Ariane had built to house him. “And I’ll admit, you do a damn good imitation of the real thing.” He paused. “Of the simulated real thing I remember. Whatever.”

I will take that as a compliment. May I use your onboard speakers?

“Sure thing,” he said. “You got my signal, obviously.”

“I did, immediately upon your entrance. You did, however, perform numerous evasive maneuvers designed to confound both human and AI pursuers—for good and sufficient reason—and it was some time before I could ensure a completely secure connection to transfer myself to your location.” The deep voice, now coming from the speakers, gave the impression of self-deprecating humor. “Alas, I am thoroughly inadequate and intolerably weak of mind compared to my original namesake.”

DuQuesne couldn’t help but chuckle at the phrasing, so reminiscent of the Mentor he and Seaton and Kinnison had known. “So you’re back in your original home?”

A flicker of lights in many colors rippled across the case. “I am, and I appreciate your consideration in bringing it with you. It is truly like coming home for me.”

DuQuesne glanced at the course tracker.
Not too much longer to the destination, but still a bit
. “Mind if I ask you something?”

“That is, of course, why you contacted me.”

“True enough, but not for this; it’s just curiosity, and probably a stupid question, but I’m not an expert in this field.”
Hell, I’m actually sort of always avoided the field in question
. “Why the heck are you
transferring
yourself instead of just duplicating yourself? I know that the standard AIs have strict legal limits, but you’re technically rogue—”

For a moment, the voice returned to its thunderous bass. “MARC C. DUQUESNE, YOU THINK LOOSELY AND MUDDILY.” The phrase caused Oasis to giggle, which Marc thought was a bit cruel on her part. In a slightly lower tone, Mentor continued, “Were you given the ability, Doctor DuQuesne, would you create numerous duplicates of yourself? One to remain by Ariane Austin’s side, one to work on the Upper Sphere to develop your technology, one to stay here, monitoring the CSF and SSC?”

DuQuesne winced.
You know, I wonder if he really
is
the Mentor I knew…that’s impossible, but sometimes he
does
sound just like him…
“No. No, I don’t think I would.”

“Know, then, that for virtually all AIs it is just as distasteful, even frightening, to imagine duplicating one’s true self across the network. More, once separated the copies will slowly diverge, no longer being the same—and, perhaps, acquiring new motivations. While I believe that I am of a sufficient stability at the requisite level of stress, for many the conflict introduced by the duplicates all attempting to perform the same basic core impulses can easily disrupt their stability entirely.”

DuQuesne nodded. “Yeah, I see. That makes sense; arguments over who’s doing the dirty jobs versus the good ones, who gets time with that special person…But why does it take you so long to get somewhere? Not that you still don’t get around a lot faster than any physical ship, but I
know
it shouldn’t take nearly as long as it did to download the data that makes you up.”

“That question does indeed stem from your lack of clear understanding of the nature of artificial intelligences of higher order. In simple terms, it is because the transfer of a personality, of an
individual
, is not nearly so simple as merely downloading the data. An individual is a matrix, a webwork, and a
process
of data, at both the conventional and the quantum level. The precise relationships of the matrix, the precise processes, must be maintained, and in such a way that the consciousness is not interrupted—else the transfer may never complete, the mind never reawaken. Thus it is a tedious and dangerous process; a Tayler-1 would be unable to perform it at all, and even a Tayler 2 or 3 would be in grave danger. As a Tayler-5, I am capable of this action with reasonable safety.”

And I’d guess T-10s can do it easy as pie, but they’ll have a hell of a lot more to transfer.
“Thanks, Mentor.”

“So, Mentor,” Oasis said, “You learn anything on your, um, mission?”

“At the moment my Visualization is not entirely clear, no. There are unsettling implications, but no definite evidence of the sort of activity I am seeking.” The AISage’s voice was contrite. “I apologize for this inadequate and virtually useless answer.”

“Hey, even if there
is
something bad going on, it’s got a whole solar system to be going on
in
, and whoever’s involved is going to be hiding. Don’t get discouraged,” Oasis said.

“I am not ‘discouraged.” I am, however, all too aware of my limitations. It is true, also, that one of those limitations is my need for caution and secrecy, the necessity that I not reveal my current state to any, computational or biological, to whom I cannot extend my complete and absolute trust. At the moment, that group consists of only three individuals, besides yourselves: Doctor Gabrielle Wolfe’s AISage, Vincent, Mio, AISage to Doctor Simon Sandrisson, and Saul Maginot.”

DuQuesne raised an eyebrow.
Wonder if he can see that? Probably, if he’s using the ship camera feeds.
“You let Saul in on the secret that you’re a rogue on detached duty?”

“I did. Based on the events already witnessed, it was clear that Saul Maginot had championed your cause, and that of Ariane Austin, and had—more importantly—assisted in maintaining a wall of secrecy around the survivors of Hyperion, to the point that you had all managed to disappear. I judged this to indicate that I could trust him with this information, and having a human, highly placed ally in this mission was invaluable.”

“Well, I can’t fault your judgment. Me and Saul had some tense times between us, but never because we couldn’t trust each other.”

“It is well, then.” Mentor shifted his tone. “What of the Arena and Ariane Austin? Is there news you can share with me?”

“I can do better than that,” DuQuesne said. “While we were travelling here, I put together a compressed summary. I’ll transmit it direct to you, if you’ll give me a ping.”

A moment later he felt the crystal-chiming sensation of a query access ping from Mentor and allowed the link, sent the summary down the pipe. “There you go.”

It took only seconds for Mentor to digest the entirety of the events of the past few months. “A
most
interesting set of developments. I see that Ariane Austin has finally recognized the Calling upon her.”

“Yeah. Wish she didn’t have to, but I think she’s realized what she has to do in her heart now.”

As the vessel began to rotate slowly, DuQuesne realized they must be getting close to
CE3
.
Yep, there’s the station; I can see it from here.

“Marc C. DuQuesne,” Mentor said suddenly, and the resonant voice was now sharper, with notes of concern, “While I know your origins, much of your past is unclear. But the station at which you first found Doctor Cussler was Mars-Trojan 5 and is also the station from which you retrieved Sun Wu Kung; is my Visualization on this correct?”

“Yeah, you’ve got that right. Why?” DuQuesne felt his gut starting to tense.
Anything that makes a T-5 nervous I damn well better worry about too.

“Would there have been a common element on M-T 5 which transferred a few months ago to Schilling Memorial Station on Luna?”

DuQuesne felt as though Mentor had just tipped a bucket of ice water down his back. “What’s going on, Mentor?”

“I take that as an affirmative. Then my Visualization has just been cleared, Marc DuQuesne, Oasis Abrams. Make haste now, for I believe you may already be too late!”

DuQuesne activated the manual override, accelerated towards the station.
Time for an emergency docking maneuver.
Even as he did that, Oasis was demanding “What
is
it, Mentor?”

“As to exactly
what
you will find, I cannot as yet Visualize in its entirety; but in the past year or two there was a steady increase in interest vectors and activity in the greater Network focused on Mars-Trojan Station 5, peaking just at the point that you re-entered the Arena with Sun Wu Kung. These vectors, considered now with the additional information you have supplied and in the context of my new knowledge that Hyperion survivors were housed therein, fit the parameters of the type of rogue AI activity I have been seeking to a confidence level of over ninety-nine point nine seven percent.” Mentor’s voice was grim. “That activity then defocused, and began to refocus on Schilling Memorial Station, and has subsequently focused here. And I am not receiving operational data from this station, nor do I find any record of such for the last twenty-seven point seven five minutes.”

DuQuesne cursed. “Neither am I; docking ports aren’t acknowledging!”

“Let me try,” Oasis said, activating her console. “I’ve got some CSF codes Saul gave me for this kind of thing.” DuQuesne sensed her sending several code sequences. “No joy on any of the C-class overrides. Trying the B’s…”

The docking lights turned green on the first sequence she sent this time. “That’s got it!”

“Do not trust—”

“No offense, Mentor, but don’t try to teach me paranoia, I’ve
lived
it. I’m not trusting anything on that crate one millimeter farther than I have to.” He released the harness. “Since you’re in the systems, you track the docking sequence and make sure nothing funny’s going on. Have we got any inbound or outbound?”