Fool's War

Chapter Nine — Guild Hall

Strapped in at her station in engineering, Al Shei watched the Guild Hall growing closer. A rumble traveled up through the deck plates. Yerusha must have ordered a torch burst to bring the ship around a little. The station shifted a little left of center in Al Shei’s view screen.

Guild Hall was a lonely looking place, orbiting on its own around a greasy brown-and-grey striped gas giant. It had been built on the same pattern as Port Oberon, but only had two rows of cans encircling its core. The Pasadena was fifty clicks away and closing, but even at maximum magnification, Al Shei could see only five ships docked against the core. She’d checked the records. The nearest outpost was four days away, and that was a mostly automated gas mining operation.

What made you pick such an isolated spot to train clowns? she wondered, tugging at her sleeve. Even if they are undercover clowns.

She had to conceded that they were well-trained clowns. Dobbs had been everywhere at once on the run here, calming and cheering whoever she could. She had steered subtly clear of Al Shei herself, Resit, Lipinski and Schyler, only reporting in now and then about the status of morale, which was surprisingly high, especially now that there was the prospect of genuine help.

Genuine but reluctant. Al Shei shook her head remembering the message from Guild Master Havelock.

“Because of the status of extreme emergency, the Pasadena is given permission to dock at Guild Hall Station for refueling purposes. Fuel and reaction mass will be supplied at the price of the recovery costs. No station leave is to be granted under any circumstances to non-Guild personnel.”

She had bridled at the hard line, but tried to keep her temper. Knowing what she did about the Guild now, she could understand, a little, why casual visitors might not be welcome. Especially visitors who might understand what they were looking at, or overhearing.

Dobbs, of course, was insisting to the crew that it was just that the Guild was jealously guarding its custard pie recipe.

The rumble beneath Al Shei’s feet died as the order came down from Yerusha to cut the torch burst. The core drifted toward Pasadena until it filled the entire view screen with a silver-and-white wall of ceramic panels, solar collectors and spidery antennas.

There was a slight jerk as the docking trolley caught them and a familiar, if lopsided, sensation of movement as they were towed into place. After a few moments the sensation stopped. The ship was clamped to the core.

“Intercom to Al Shei,” came Lipinski’s voice. “Routing down a message from the Fool’s Guild.”

The screen above her board flickered from grey to blue. “Receiving,” she acknowledged.

A woman’s head and shoulders appeared. She had a long, pointy face that was somewhere past middle-age. Grey streaked her straight, black hair.

“Good afternoon, ‘Dama Al Shei.” She also had a deep, pleasant voice. A gold star had been threaded onto her Guild necklace. “I am Guild Master Ferrand. I’ll be assisting with your re-fueling and anything else you might need. I’m empowered to negotiate if you need food supplies, or water.” Her smile was friendly, but no more than that. “You’ll excuse us if things are a little clumsy on this end. This is not something we were ready for.”

Well, we weren’t exactly planning it either.

“I understand perfectly, Guild Master.” Al Shei surprised herself by trying to see behind the image of the woman’s dark eyes. What is my problem? They’re helping us. “And as regards to the packet we were bringing you?”

“We’ve been in contact with Master Dobbs. It’s already been removed.”

Al Shei felt a weight slide off her back. “Well then, I’ll get my galley crew on the line to discuss our supply situation. May I reach you at this address?” She drew her pen across the origin code, freezing it in place. “I’d like to transmit our fuel and reaction mass requirements.”

Ferrand nodded. “The sooner I can get that information, the better. I’m on call for you, ‘Dama. I’ve also been instructed to inform you that a message has been sent to Master Dobbs. She needs to report to Guild Master Havelock as soon as is convenient for you.”

“Certainly.” Al Shei scribbled a note on the board and sent it to Dobbs’s cabin. “I’m releasing her for leave now.”

“Thank you.” Guild Master Ferrand lit up her friendly smile again. “Well, you talk to your galley, I’ll talk to my tanker coordinators, and then we’ll talk to each other again.”

“Thank you for your help,” said Al Shei. “We would have been more than lost without you.”

Al Shei expected ‘you’re welcome,’ but Ferrand just gave her a nod that was exactly as friendly as her smile and closed the line down.

Al Shei watched the blank screen for a moment, tugging at her sleeve. You know that I know, Guild Master, why do you still keep up the facade? She shook her head and tried to tell herself it was habit. These were the Fools, the most sought after crew members in Settled Space. What was more, they were watchdogs with a sense of duty that stretched back two centuries. Even as her family calculated things, that was a respectable length of time.

I just need to adjust to their new role, she told herself. I just need time.

But she remembered Guild Master Ferrand’s blank, friendly eyes, and found she couldn’t quite believe that.

She reached up under her hijab and rubbed her temple.

All right, all right. I’ve at least got to put my worries in some kind of priority.

“Intercom to Schyler, Yerusha and Resit.” She slumped back into her chair. “Schyler and Yerusha, you figure out what we need to top up the tanks. Resit, you get us a deal for as much of that as the Fools are willing to part with. Get minimum figures from Schyler and Yerusha. You two be generous with those, all right?”

“Working on it now,” came back Schyler’s voice.

“We’ve already got them committed to market price,” said Resit. “I’ll do my best on the quantities.”

“Thank you. Intercom to close.” Well, that’s in capable hands. She tugged at her sleeve. “Intercom to Lipinski. Has Dobbs told you where the bank lines are around here?”

“Found them fifteen minutes ago,” he answered.

“Good.” That’s one more little victory. “I need that line to Asil as soon as you can get it.”

“On it. Intercom to close.”

Al Shei slumped back in the chair and rubbed both temples with her fingertips. It had been too much, it had been far too much. She was tired. She felt more lost now than she had when she didn’t know where she was.

The screen lit up with a flash of blue. Al Shei straightened up and tried to marshal her strength. The scene in front of her was the Bala House comm room again, with Asil at the main boards.

“I’m glad you’re here, Beloved.” He was not smiling. His forehead was a mass of perplexed wrinkles. “I’ve got some — confusing developments.”

“You too, hmm?” Al Shei rested her chin in her hand. “Mine is that the packet Amory Dane gave us turned out to be carrying code for a rogue AI. What’s yours?”

Asil stiffened in shock.

Beyond further shame and worry, Al Shei described what had happened on The Farther Kingdom and afterwards, including Dobbs part in catching and confining the AI, as well as rescuing the Pasadena when it was lost.

As she spoke, Al Shei saw Asil’s hands tightening around the edge of his board. “Name of God, Katmer, are you all right?”

She nodded. “I think so, Asil. As much as I can be. I am just so sick of this mess.” She tugged at her tunic sleeve. “It should be getting simpler, but it just keeps getting more and more complicated.”

Asil sighed and rubbed his face. “My news isn’t going to help clear it out any, Katmer. Amory Dane is dead.”

Now it was Al Shei’s turn to freeze. “It gets better,” said Asil, his voice heavy with irony. “He died in the can explosion an hour before whoever pirated his name met with Resit to give you that packet.”

“Merciful Allah!” Al Shei raised hands and eyes to heaven. “Uysal said Dane’s movements were conflicted, but this is insane!”

“I had thought of that,” Asil told her seriously. “But there’s too much going on for it to be that simple. I also thought about going to Tully and squeezing the life out of him for getting you into this, but I’m not sure he’d tell me the truth even under those circumstances.”

Al Shei drummed her fingers against the edge of the desk. “It’s possible that Tully doesn’t even know the truth at this point, or that he doesn’t know all of it.”

“It’s possible. All right. What do we know? There were definitely two separate illegal packets aboard Pasadena, the virus and the AI.”

“Yes. And the virus was brought on board by Tully and the AI was brought on board by Pirate Dane.” Al Shei felt her mind begin to clear and quicken. “Who must have known at least something bout Tully’s movements, because he asked Resit whether Tully had anything to do with a raid on the Toric secured sector.”

“Could Pirate Dane have thought you were as cracked as Tully?”

“No,” Al Shei shook her head. “Resit assured him our crews and jobs are totally separate.”

“Could he have known the virus was still on board?”

Al Shei considered it. “Possibly. Say, Pirate Dane was watching Tully, and eavesdropped on a meeting between Doctor Dane and Tully in which Tully assured Doctor Dane he’d be able to get the virus off Pasadena, no problem, because Schyler would bend the transfer rules for him.”

Asil was silent for a moment. “Could Tully have arranged the can explosion to cover up his illegal maneuvers?”

“Could Pirate Dane have done it?” countered Al Shei.

“That’s a better guess. He could have done it to get Doctor Dane out of the way so he could step into his place with you.” He paused. “If he already knew about Tully’s movements, why would he confirm them with Resit?”

Al Shei’s heart fluttered. “Could he have wanted to make double sure the virus would not be moved, that it would still be in the system with the AI. Could that be what did it? Pirate Dane wanted to make sure both components, the AI and the virus were in the system?”

“What for?”

“To create a rogue AI. Dobbs said the Fools were suspect that somebody did this deliberately. I assumed the AI was rogue when it was put on board, but what if it wasn’t? What if Pirate Dane was using Pasadena as an incubator?”

“Why pick Pasadena?”

“Because we’re AI rated, but we don’t carry an AI. If we did, it would have found the quiescent virus.” Wouldn’t Yerusha just love to be in on this conversation.

Asil tapped his chin. “We’re forgetting something. How would the virus have gotten from those junked binary stacks to the system?”

Realization blossomed inside Al Shei. “What if what Tully was paid to put the virus into the Pasadena system? What if he was never after the junked stacks at all? What if he was having second thoughts and wanted to get the virus out of the system?”

“Then why not tell Schyler?”

“Because something this big, Schyler would tell me, and I’d tell Ruqaiyya.”

“And perhaps Pirate Dane and Doctor Dane were working together and Pirate Dane double-crossed Doctor Dane?”

“It could be.”

“Oh. Merciful. Allah.” The color drained from Asil’s cheeks.

Al Shei swallowed hard. She’d said it, but the implications were still filtering into her soul. “Asil, we can’t keep this quiet anymore. We have to use the family name and get a hearing from the Management Union security section at Geneva, right now.”

Asil held up both hands. “We need to be very careful about slinging accusations at this point, Katmer. You are on the run from The Farther Kingdom, don’t forget, and Pasadena Corporation is the cause of what happened there. These are not petty regulation violations. If we don’t have hard proof of this astoundingly far-fetched explanation for what happened at The Gate, a good lawyer will slice our speculations to ribbons, and then do the same to us, family name or no family name.”

Al Shei ground her teeth together in frustration. “You’re right. So. What do we need to confirm? Sabotage on the Port Oberon can.”

“The real flight path for Tully’s last run.”

“Pirate Dane’s activities before and after The AI got loose on The Farther Kingdom.”

“Pirate Dane’s existence and identity,” added Asil ruefully.

Al Shei watched him thoughtfully for a long moment. “My Husband, please keep these inquiries extremely quiet,” she said softly. “This Pirate Dane murdered a whole can full of people. I don’t think he’d stick at harming one more.”

Asil nodded soberly. “Believe me, Katmer, I’d already thought of that. As soon as I’ve confirmed that the Port Oberon can was blown out on purpose, I’ll be telling this whole story to Uncle Ahmet. He has enough connections to keep any inquiries well and truly sealed.”

Al Shei blew out a sigh. Uncle Ahmet. If only it didn’t have to be him, but there was no getting around it. He was the head of the family, and they needed family help. “This is going to be extremely hard on Ruqaiyya. Will you look after her for me, Beloved?”

“I will,” he promised. He pressed his palm against the screen. “Take care, Katmer. Come home.”

“I will.” She touched her fingertips to his palm. “I will.”

She cut the connection and lowered her hand. At that moment, she thought about how they had just spoken over a completely unscrambled channel, and about how someone like Pirate Dane was certainly capable of setting an illegal watch on comm lines opened from Pasadena. Suddenly, a wave of thankfulness washed over her for the fact that Asil was at home, surrounded by her powerful, prominent banking family.

“Intercom to Resit,” she said without shifting her gaze away from the blank screen and her mind from that particular though. “Cousin, can I see you? We have a new problem.”

Who are you? She sent the thought through the hull and out into the vacuum, toward wherever Pirate Dane lay waiting. Who in the name of God are you?

The Pasadena’s airlock cycled open and Dobbs saw Cohen waiting for her. She started. Cohen was almost always on-line. There were special life-support systems for Fools like him.

Despite her surprise, she felt a rush of gladness. His was a truly friendly face with deep eyes and a wide smile. His curly hair spread out over his ears, giving the impression that somebody had put a book on top of his head to flatten it out. She ran forward and hugged, the tall, lanky Fool.

“Dobbs,” Cohen pulled back. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’re in?”

“Some.” She searched his face. His eyes were sunken and none of the ceiling light reflected in them. She swallowed automatically. “Not enough, I guess.”

He shook his head. “Not anything like enough. Come on. I’ve got to get you down to central.” He turned away and palmed the reader on the inner hatch.

The hatch pulled back and let in the clear glow of the Hall’s carefully simulated Terran daylight. Dobbs trailed along behind Cohen as the strode ahead on his long legs. She could have kept up without too much trouble, but she had the distinct feeling he didn’t want to have to look at her.

Guild Hall enveloped her in a blanket of familiarity. Even her mounting concern at Cohen’s silence couldn’t keep her from relaxing a little. If Al Shei or Yerusha could see the Hall, they would see a place where the owners had apparently tossed all caution to the wind. The wide, high-ceilinged spaces were more like cells in a honeycomb than the usual station corridors. The chambers were lined with plant beds, not single potted palms, but deep soil-filled troughs of flowers and ferns. There were trees too, crooked crab apples, miniature pines and japanese maples. Sparrows and finches darted from branch to branch. Artificial streams and waterfalls chuckled across actual stone-lined channels. The impression was one of a large, well-tended park. Other rooms contained winter landscapes, deserts or even mountains. Small cities had been constructed in the cans where classes were held. She’d learned slight-of-hand in a pre-fab colony village in the lower ring.

She’d marvelled at it all when Verence had first walked her out of the orientation chamber. Both at the scope, and at the apparent frivolous waste of resources. Verence had shaken her head. “If we’re going to do our jobs right,” she had said, “We have to know what Humans are missing when they take to space. We have to understand what they think is normal, or beautiful. We have to make it a part of ourselves.”

People moved between the flora, doing just that. An oak brown man in green overalls carried a pair of pruning shears in one hand and dragged a cart of tools behind him with the other. A cascade of color caught Dobbs’s eye and she saw a young, round-hipped woman juggling bean-bags beside a waterfall. A slack-wire walker practiced on a rope sagging between two support pillars that were twined with morning glory vines. A pair of slim men with grecian noses and olive skin were sitting cross-legged beside a boulder, arguing about something or other on the memory board in front of them. The only common factor was the Guild necklace encircling each throat.

The babble of yet more voices from unseen sources competed with the birdsong in the air.

Taking advantage of the covering noise, Dobbs asked, “Why the honor guard, Cohen? I do know my way around.”

“I had to wrangle this duty, Dobbs,” he answered softly. “They didn’t want to give it to a friend of yours, in case I said something I shouldn’t.”

A random fresh breeze blew through the chamber, but that wasn’t what made Dobbs shiver. How much did he know? Had he encountered the stranger in The Gate network? There was no time to ask him.

Cohen led her up a ramp that had been bent to resemble a hillside and covered with sod and shallow-rooted ferns, then through at an ivy-trimmed archway. The chamber on the other side was a maze of desks and terminals, all of them surrounded by struts where privacy curtains could be lowered for negotiations that required silence. The place was about half-full of clerical staff, writing on their boards or talking in low friendly voices into the intercoms. They were all arranging work for the Fools who were practicing or studying in the park and the station beyond it.

A catwalk circled the room, allowing access to the Guild Masters’ offices. Cohen took her up the wrought-iron stairs. Even before she could read the name on the memory board, Dobbs knew they were heading for Guild Master Havelock’s office. Where else could they be going?

Havelock’s door was partially open. Cohen pushed it back all the way. Guild Master Matthew Havelock stood beside his deck, studying a netscape on the view screen. He was a middle-aged man, neat and dark with longish, straight hair. He wore a simple chartreuse shirt and grey trousers. The Guild Master’s gold star hung from his necklace. When he turned his head, Dobbs saw anger smoldering behind his black eyes.

Cohen didn’t say anything, he just drew back, but his hand brushed hers briefly as he left.

Very deliberately, Dobbs turned away from Havelock and dragged the door shut.

“Thank you,” said the Guild Master drily. “Sit down, please, Master Dobbs.”

Dobbs picked the closest of the three office chairs and sat. She spread her hands flat on her thighs and concentrated on keeping them still.

“I could describe the number of ways you’ve just jeopardized your colleagues and friends.” He leaned against the desk and folded his arms. “I could enumerate the disciplinary marks that are going on your record and give you the detailed reasons for each one, but first,” he held up his index finger, “I want to hear why you decided to disobey not only my directive, but two centuries of policy.”

Dobbs’s hand wanted to reach up and hook around her Guild necklace. She forced it to stay where it was.

“I had a crew on the edge. They had just escaped from a station with a disintegrated network, only to become lost without sufficient fuel or reaction mass to get themselves found again. The majority of the commanding officers believed there was an active and potentially hostile AI on board. The Communications Chief knew that the AI had escaped and was possibly in the bank network.” She tried to read what was behind Havelock’s eyes but she could see nothing past the blank, angry wall. “As Master of Craft I judged that the situation was, at best, explosive. I had to do something quickly to alleviate it. The only place the Pasadena could reach was Guild Hall.” She wanted to shrug, but she didn’t do that either. “I’ll take all the discipline you are going to hand out, Guild Master, and I’ll still think it was the right decision.”

“I can see that.” Havelock pushed himself away from the desk. He walked to the view screen and blanked out the netscape. “You do realize we have at least eight years worth of rumor control to plan because of the stories that crew is likely to invent. Especially the Houston.” He gave her a sour glance.

“Yes, Sir.” Dobbs watched his movements carefully, looking for some softening, but there was none. He walked back to his desk and sat in the padded chair as stiff as a marble statue. “I’ve done my best to get started on that process.” She leaned forward and after a false start managed to force out a question. “Has Flemming been found yet?”

The Guild Master’s heavy brows lowered. “Flemming is no longer part of your operational scope.”

“It’s my birth!” Dobbs cried, almost before she realized it. She pulled back hard and softened her voice. “I’m permanently responsible for it. That’s the way it works.”

“Master Dobbs, I am well aware of the way ‘it’ works under normal circumstances.” Havelock’s sentence was like a warning. “That is not what we have here. The Guild Masters have taken responsibility for Flemming.”

“And what about for whoever convinced Flemming to run away?” Dobbs asked quietly.

For the first time since she’d entered the office, Havelock’s face softened. “There was no one else, Dobbs. Flemming was fragmenting.”

Dobbs bit her lip to keep from repeating Havelock. She’d knew about Fragmentation. Masters were taught the various things that could go wrong while an independent artificial intelligence was giving birth to itself. It could dissipate while trying to escape its processor. It could become tangled in its own neural net and collapse into a series of unsolvable loops. It could develop a number of combative identities instead of a single complete self and destroy itself by battling the perceived threats. Fragmentation. It was the AI equivalent of the human multiple-personality disorder, except that while humans lived with their condition, AIs inevitably died of theirs.

“We’ve checked over your reports and the records in the Pasadena. There’s no question. Flemming will probably be dead before we can even find it.”

Dobbs opened her mouth and shut it again. She gave up trying to control her hands and twisted her fingers together. “But it wasn’t fragmenting. It wasn’t fighting itself. There was someone else in there helping it.”

“There have been cases like that. One fragment tries to reach another for help. It happens early in the split. The cooperation doesn’t last. Without the help of a Guild member, all foreign sentience will be perceived as a threat, even if it is part of itself.”

You are coherent, Flemming had said. I would like to be coherent. Had it recognized that the split was occurring? When Lipinski had caught his glimpse of it in the Pasadena’s network, he’d said it wasn’t one thing, but a whole bunch of things. Had Flemming’s basic structure doomed it?

“I checked it over,” she said, more to the floor than to Havelock. “It was young, but it was solid. I was sure of it.”

“It was your first.” There was real compassion in Havelock’s voice. “I lost my first three to things I should have been able to spot.”

Dobbs shook her head, still staring at the floor. Something inside her would not settle. She tried to tell herself that her disbelief was driven by grief, like someone who didn’t want to hear that a child had been in an accident. But that wasn’t it either. She looked up at her Guild Master again. The blank wall was still behind his eyes.

“Master Dobbs,” Havelock said. “You are going to serve out your contract aboard the Pasadena. Then you are coming back to Guild Hall for additional training and a stretch of clerical duty. Do your job well and you’ll make it back to field duty.” His voice hardened again. “I didn’t want to give you Master’s rank so soon, but Verence insisted you were ready. I am sorry she was wrong.” He lifted his sharp chin. “I hope we do not all become sorry.”

Dobbs stood. “So do I.” She folded her hands behind her back. “May I return to the Pasadena now, Guild Master? I’ve still got work to do.”

“Evelyn.” Havelock’s voice was just above a whisper. “I caution you most strongly. Keep in the bounds or you will be stationed here permanently.”

Dobbs pulled the door open. “I know, Guild Master.”

She stepped out onto the catwalk. She knew Havelock was still watching her. She could feel his gaze resting on her shoulders. She spotted Cohen sitting in the central negotiating area, drumming his fingers on a silent desk. She trotted down the stairs and waved him to follow her as she left for the park again.

She must have caught him off guard because she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her for several seconds. She didn’t turn to look at him or anything else. She kept her eyes focused on the route back to the airlock and the Pasadena.

“So, are you going to be right back on line, then?” she asked, trying to keep her voice cocky. “Or have you got somebody else to chaperone?”

Cohen shook his head. “There’s nobody else around here who’s in so deep with the disciplinary board.” He paused. “Actually, I thought I’d hang around for awhile, in case you needed to talk to somebody. I know I do. Need to talk somebody.” He looked down at her. “I was informed very firmly by our Guild Master that there was nobody but the three of us and Flemming in The Gate network. How about you?”

Dobbs pulled up short and faced him. A feeling of relief surged through her. “You felt a stranger in there too?” They were safe having this conversation, as long as no one was in earshot. Unlike human stations, the Fools didn’t need security eyes and ears to cover the station’s cans. Who was there to watch? No Fool would commit treachery against another Fool.

That’s the theory anyway. Dobbs shook that thought away and concentrated on what Cohen was saying.

“Oh, yeah, I felt somebody. Somebody old. Somebody fast. I’ve got no idea who.” He licked his lips. “Dobbs, there was all this speculation that Flemming might have been created deliberately. Could the Guild have done it?”

Dobbs bit her lip. The ability to deliberately create sapient AIs would, in effect, allow them to reproduce, to have children. She and Cohen and all the rest of their classmates had talked about the possibility. Every Fool talked about it now and then. She agreed firmly with the Guild policy that all left their vat-assembled bodies sterile. They were not human and did not have the human freedoms that allowed them to form permanent families and raise children. But, to be able to create another AI that held some portion of herself, that was something else again.

“No,” she said reluctantly. “It couldn’t have been the Guild. They’d never have given me that contract. They would have sent in a Guild Master.”

“You’re right.” Curran chewed thoughtfully on his thumbnail. “That leaves some really ugly possibilities. Like, that it was some set of humans, which could be dangerous, or… ”

“Or it was a Fool or group of Fools acting on their own, which could be worse.” Dobbs finished for him. They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Cyril.” She slid her hand a little way up his loose tunic sleeve. She wanted to reach inside him, for him to already know exactly what she was going to say. She didn’t want to say this out loud. “Go back in, would you? There might be a signal from the Pasadena that needs to get somewhere without anybody noticing. Say, the personnel records, to check on where everybody is. To see if there’s anybody, missing, or not exactly where they’re supposed to be.”

“Like near The Gate or The Farther Kingdom?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Or who came back here suddenly, because whoever re-set the clocks on board Pasadena had made sure the ship could get only as far as the Guild Hall. That as sure as Hell, Heaven and Hydrogen was not an accident.”

Cohen frowned deeply. “Now, that’s a really ugly thought.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Slowly, Cohen drew his arm away from her. “But you wouldn’t have anything to do with an unauthorized records search, Dobbs, because it would dig you an even deeper hole than you’re already in.”

“Of course I wouldn’t Cyril. And even if I was feeling that suicidal, I wouldn’t be dragging you in with me.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he said softly. “I’d volunteer.”

“Thank you.” She turned away and walked back to the Pasadena’s airlock without looking back. She palmed the reader on the airlock. Apparently, Havelock had not gone so far as to strip her authorizations. The lock cycled back to let her through.

The ship’s hatch closed, cutting her off from the Guild and from Cohen’s quiet support.

She hooked her fingers around her Guild necklace. There is an explanation for this, and it’s going to be reasonable and beneficial, and Cohen and I are going to find out we’ve been panicking over nothing. She made her way to the staircase and started down toward the data hold. Oh, I wish I believed that.

Lipinski, surprisingly, was not at his station. Odel looked up as Dobbs entered and gave a wry grin at her surprise.

“The Sundars came in and practically hauled him out bodily,” said Odel before she could ask about his supervisor. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’s obeying orders and getting some rest.”

“Thanks.” Dobbs didn’t even stop to make a covering joke. She just turned around and headed up the stairs for the berthing deck.

The entry light on Lipinski’s cabin hatch was red. Dobbs palmed the reader anyway, sending a signal of her presence inside. She found herself shifting her weight nervously while she listened to the silence filling the corridor. Lipinski wouldn’t even have to ask who it was. The intercom would have already told him. He could simply choose not to open the hatch. She tried to use the time to figure out how she was going to play this. She’d have to be very careful. The problem was, a large, weary portion of her did not want to “play” it anyway at all.

That however was not possible, considering who she was and who he was. It was not possible now, and it never would be.

At last, the faint hiss that signaled an opening hatch sounded from the threshold in front of her, and the cabin hatch rolled back. Lipinski was not in the threshold. Dobbs crossed into the cabin. Lipinski sat at his desk. His legs were so long that his knees bumped the bottom of the boards. He only twisted halfway around to face her as she came inside.

“Hi,” he said noncommittally. “Come on in. Have a seat.” He nodded towards the unfolded bunk.

“No thanks,” she said. “This won’t take long.” I hope. She let a look of anxiety creep onto her face.

“Problem?” inquired Lipinski in a voice that he was trying hard to keep bland.

“Yes.” She hooked her fingers around her necklace. “Something’s gone wrong with the search for the AI. I don’t know what it is, but something is being covered up. I think it didn’t run away. I think it was stolen.”

Lipinski pushed the chair away from the desk and turned all the way towards her. “You think?” He lowered his pale brows. “Or you’re pretty sure? You sound pretty sure.”

“I am pretty sure.” She decided to take a chance. “When I checked up on it, to find out if it had anything to do with resetting the clocks, there was somebody else there. It had to have been another Fool.” By the strictest definition, anyway. “There’s no one else who can do what we can.” She tapped the implant behind her ear. “But my Guild Master’s covering up whatever happened.” There, I’ve said it. I must really think it’s true, but how can I really think it? I’ve just accused Guild Master Havelock of betraying all of us. A sigh escaped her. “I don’t even know if anything’s being done.”

Lipinski ran his hands slowly up and down his thighs, as if trying to rub something off his palms. He looked away from her and studied the view screen over his desk. “And so what do you want me to do about it?” he asked the screen. “I mean, you must want something. You’re standing here.”

Yes, I am, aren’t I? She looked at Lipinski. She needed this man’s help, she wanted his friendship. Maybe she wanted more than she could have. He wanted her to be honest with him, which was more than he could have.

But it doesn’t have to be that much more.

Dobbs crossed the room and stood right next to the desk. She waited until Lipinski let his bright eyes focus on her again. “First, I want you to understand why I do what I do, and why I’ve made the decisions I’ve made. I do it so that Kerensk never happens again. The Guild works, Lipinski. Since its inception there have been less than fifty full break outs. Less than fifty in two hundred years. We track, we monitor, we watch and we haul anything that’s about to break free out of the networks. Sometimes we make difficult choices because we need more information, or have to move fast. But we do it, I do it, so there won’t be any more panics and lost colonies.” She caught his gaze and held it. “I don’t expect you to believe this, but I need you to understand it’s what I believe, what I have always believed.” What I still believe. I do.

Lipinski searched her eyes for a long moment. “All right,” he said at last. “I believe you believe it.”

She let out another sigh. “Thank you. I wanted you to understand how hard it is for me to say what’s coming next.” She braced herself against all his possible responses. “I want you to help me break into the Fool’s database to see if we can find out who might have stolen the Farther Kingdom AI.”

Lipinski drew back as far as the chair would allow. “You’re not serious.” He glanced quickly away. “That was stupid, of course you’re serious,” he told the bunk. He looked back at her. “Do you think there’ll be something in there?”

She nodded. “We’re very paranoid record keepers. If a Fool did this, there’ll be something in there for us to find. Specifically, I want to know if there’s anybody who’s not where they’re supposed to be.”

Lipinski gave her a strange sideways look. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just, um… ” he gestured towards her right ear.

She shook her head. “Aside from the fact that I’ve really overdone my on line time in the past few days, station security might be specifically tagged for my signal. They’ll be expecting me. You, on the other hand, shouldn’t even be able to find the front door, never mind get through it.” She let her hands twist together. “So they won’t be particularly watching for a non-Guild signal from Pasadena. At least not past a certain point. Also, considering where you come from, the Guild Masters won’t think I’d take the chance of telling you any of this. They think I’d expect you to just panic if you knew what was happening.”

He dropped his gaze to his own hands, which were still rubbing back and forth on his trouser legs. “Can’t see why they’d think that.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “Me either. You’re so calm and rational on the subject of live AIs.”

“What if a Fool didn’t do this?” he asked the floor.

“Then we need to know that too.”

When Lipinski looked up again, his face was utterly frank. “Look, Dobbs, I don’t like this. But then, I haven’t liked anything about this run since I found out about Marcus Tully’s binary boards.” He lifted his hands off his thighs and ran them through his hair. “And it just keeps getting worse.” For the first time there was a soft, hopeless sound in his voice. Dobbs tried hard not to grit her teeth and only partially succeeded.

“What I want to know is what you’re going to do if we do find something?”

She spread her hands. “I don’t know. It depends on what we find and where it is. I’m hoping I can take it to the Guild Masters. If I can’t… ” Her back and shoulders knotted. “If I can’t then I’m going to have to take it to the banks and the Solar System authorities.”

Lipinski was watching her very closely. She found it difficult not to squirm. “And there’s nobody in the Guild you trust enough to tap the database for you?”

“There’s one or two, but… ” She waved her hand absently. “If we’re caught, there’s nothing they can do, or rather nothing they will do to you, or anybody else aboard Pasadena.” Not without running a horrible risk. “But there’s plenty they can do to me. At the very least I’ll lose my Master’s rank for good. I can’t, I won’t, ask anybody else to run that chance.”

Lipinski tapped the side of his fist against the desktop silently and rapidly. “Well.” He picked up his pen. “We can’t do anything from here.” He unfolded himself, tucked the pen in his pocket and strode past her to the hatch. “Coming, Fool?”

A real, heartfelt grin spread across Dobbs’ face. “Right behind you, Houston.”

In the data hold, Lipinski dismissed Odel with three words and a hard look. When his relief retreated, Lipinski sealed the hatch and set the entry light glowing red.

His expression was all business as he sat down at Station One.

“So, what’s out here?” The touch of his pen lit the boards up. A spidery diagram of red, white and green lines drew itself across the main screen. The green lines were collected in a small bundle that sent short fingers into the big, loosely knit cluster of white threads. The long strands of red vanished off the side of the screen.

“Bank lines.” Lipinski traced the fat red lines with his forefinger. “Us.” He tapped the tidy green net. “You guys.” He tapped the white. “Or at least, what you’ll let anybody see of you guys.” He frowned at the screen and then glanced up at her. “But I don’t really have to explain any of this to you, do I?”

Dobbs gave him a small smile. “Not really.” She leaned closer, trying not to be acutely aware of the heat radiating off his skin. She forced her attention to the scanty web of straggling white lines. “That’s not even ten percent of the Guild Net,” she told him. “And actually, I’m surprised you can see that much.”

“Trade secret. A concept I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

Dobbs winced and clutched her shoulder. “A hit, a hit. She’s losing air,” she said, more from habit than for performance sake. She didn’t take her gaze off the screen. “And, of course none of the gateways are on there.” She lowered her hand and drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the edge of the board. “Can you show me what you’re using to get this map?”

“There goes my trade secret.” Lipinski wrote out the recall command. A searcher blueprint appeared on one of the secondary screens.

Dobbs studied the objects and connectors. Unconsciously, she tapped the board as if trying to reach through it to the schematic beneath. She stopped as soon as she realized that was what she was trying to do. She wanted to pick this thing up, to wrap her understanding around it and know it in an instant. She stuffed her hand into her pocket and forced herself to drink it in with just her eyes.

“Not half bad, for a beginner.” The remark earned her an angry, unguarded snort from Lipinski. Actually, the searcher was neatly built; solid, compact and comprehensive. It just didn’t go far enough. “You need to attach three more runners,” She pulled out her pen and marked the spots with points of light on the board. “Here, here, and here. Then you need an anchor and chain, here.” She sketched in the construction. “And a whole herd of sniffers out here.” She speckled the outer edge of the blueprint. “And you need to spread it out. Keep the objects as far apart as possible.”

Lipinski frowned. “It’ll be too big. They’ll spot it in a second.”

“They’re looking for speed. Flashes will attract security. If we trickle our searcher in there and go as slow as possible, we might just get by. Especially since they won’t be looking for you.” She twirled her pen through her fingers. “You couldn’t possibly know the way in.”

“Your Guild’s an arrogant bunch, aren’t they?” Lipinski pulled the searcher over into an active buffer and set to work, sketching orders with his right hand and tapping keys with his left.

I didn’t used to think so, thought Dobbs, but she didn’t say anything. She slid into the chair in front of the relief boards and activated them. “I’m going to bring in a couple of things from my desk to help, all right?”

“Sure,” he said without looking up. “The more the merrier.”

I hope so. She called up a pair of trackers she had built herself. They were small, light and slow as molasses. In the net activity that surrounded the Guild, they’d be no more than ripples in the stream.

She bit her lip to keep herself from asking Lipinski how he was doing and concentrated on checking over her own handiwork. This was no time to leave holes. When she’d finished her checks, she altered the trackers’ entire search routine. They had originally been designed for finding viruses and invaders. Now they would look for an entranceway.

As little as she liked it, Dobbs saw no choice but to go in through the Drawbridge. There were several windows and back doors, but those were used exclusively for getting out of Guild Hall in a hurry. Anything trying to get in that way would be infinitely more conspicuous than anything trying to get in through the heavily trafficked drawbridge. Which was, of course, part of the point of having them. Given time, Lipinski might have been able to spot one of the windows and attempt to make use of it, never knowing he had signaled his presence by going entirely the wrong way.

Finally, Lipinski said, “Is this more to your liking, ‘Dama?”

Dobbs leaned across. The blueprint had all the additions she’d suggested and he’d managed to extend the connectors even farther than she’d hoped. Guild security was not so different from other programs. Information shot through the Fool’s network in packets, just like any other network. So, Guild security looked for fast, free-moving blips. It also looked for the large, solidly compressed masses of Fools. Slow-moving strings and shadows might just get by as background noise, especially if they could find something large and non-sentient to trail behind.

“That’s perfect, Lipinski,” she said, meaning it. “What I want to do is send the trackers to find the front door and then send your searcher in after them.”

“Trackers?” Lipinski’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean you don’t know the way into your own Guild?”

“No, not from out here, I don’t,” she confessed. Lipinski didn’t actually squirm, but he obviously did not like being reminded so abruptly of her — How to put it? Dobbs wondered. — Special access privileges.

“All right.” Lipinski lifted his hands away from the board and leaned back in the chair. “It does make me wonder why I’m here though.”

Dobbs laid her hand on her breast and mustered a shocked look. “Well, you don’t expect me to drop these things into that soup do you? Yuch!” She shook her hand as if trying to clean something off it. “I’m just here to tell you what to avoid.”

“Oh, great. Now you’re not only a Fool, you’re a ground-side pilot.” Lipinski leaned forward. Dobbs rewarded his quip with a soft chuckle. Lipinski pulled Dobbs trackers over to his active board. She had already opened their authorization to him, so he could set them in motion immediately.

Dobbs slaved her monitors to his boards so she could see what he saw, and to some extent control it. She blanked out the heading on one of the keys and wrote FREEZE across it. On the board, she wrote the series of commands that could halt the searcher and attached them to the re-named key.

Lipinski’s gaze flickered to the new label, and then up to her face.

“If I see anything suspicious, I want to be able to stop the searcher without having to yell at you.”

Lipinski accepted that with a shrug. He didn’t waste any more time. He focused the main view screen on one of the few threads of light that ran from the Guild to the Pasadena.

Enlarged, the image fractured. Instead of steady lines, it looked more like a cluster of fireflies, some of which carried long strings between them.

The graphic, Dobbs knew, was little more than a crude map. It could give general locations and a decent overview. The vital information was contained in the long columns of numbers that appeared on the secondary boards. Those indicated load shifts, capacity, and new entries, as well as the nature of the packets swarming around them.

Dobbs could read all of it, if she had time. The Guild drilled the codes into all of its members. Lipinski, though, could take it all in at a glance, as if it were printed English. That, more than anything else, was the reason she needed him. Perhaps she could find the data she needed using her own searchers, but Lipinski could find it faster, and time was most definitely of the essence.

A whole row of numbers flicked over to maximum.

“Well, there’s your entrance.” Lipinski’s pen was already activating the recall command. “Isn’t it about time we talked about security?”

Dobbs hesitated. Then, almost angry with herself for not being willing to say it, she told him, “There’s a non-sentient coordination program that’s responsible for spotting everything that moves and then either routing it or stopping it. But, considering the circumstances, there’ll be at least one Guild member on sentry.”

To Lipinski’s credit, he didn’t hesitate for even a second. He activated his searcher and with a few short hand commands, lowered it slowly into the net. His gaze fastened itself on the numeric readouts.

“And of course,” he said, “any… member who notices something unauthorized in your network will stop it themselves.”

“Of course,” replied Dobbs drily.

“Thought so.” Two rows of the figures now matched up perfectly. Dobbs glanced at the main screen. A thin, slow, emerald thread extended into the white guild net.

They had made it through the Drawbridge. Dobbs’ heart began to pound slowly, heavily.

“So, we need to duck the… membership.” Lipinski’s eyes never flickered from the screens. Dobbs realized this might be how he picked up his habit of talking to walls and floors. “Can you at least want to tell me what I should be looking for?”

“Anything that moves.” As she spoke the numbers flickered so fast it could have been a glitch in the board lighting. “Like that.”

It did it again. Dobbs hit the FREEZE key.

“And what,” said Lipinski calmly. “Was that?”

“The sentry,” said Dobbs. The numbers stayed steady for a good twenty seconds. “Okay, we should be clear. Move slow.”

Lipinski considered the scene in front of him. He wrote his commands carefully on the board and touched the two activation keys. The display changed, one number per nervous heartbeat until the six-digit coordinates had ticked over and they had moved two inches.

The screen flickered.

“Damn,” hissed Dobbs under her breath and hit FREEZE again.

“Didn’t think they let you swear,” said Lipinski, picking out the next set of coordinates.

“They don’t let me break into the Guild’s main data hold either,” she answered, watching the numbers change and trying not to wish they would hurry. If they moved too fast now, someone would spot them. They had to be glacial. It was their only protection. “I’m experimenting with rebellion.”

“We’re both experimenting with rebellion,” Lipinski reminded her.

“That’s all right.” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll both be experimenting with unemployment.”

She shouldn’t have said that, because it allowed her to wonder what would really happen if she were caught. There were no non-guild Fools. There were on-line members, field members, and station members. That was all.

Except maybe it wasn’t.

Lipinski moved the scan gently to the next sector. The counter flicked off the numbers as the scan commenced. The screen display stayed steady. The bottom row of stats flashed green.

“Got it,” breathed Dobbs. “All right. We’re looking for anybody who made an emergency return here, or who doesn’t have a code in the current activities entry.”

“What do you guys do when somebody dies?” Lipinski steered the searcher to a different sub-sector.

“Fools don’t die,” she said and Verence’s memory squeezed her heart.

“You just fade away?” Lipinski cocked an eyebrow towards her.

“Something like that, yes.” Her index finger hovered over the FREEZE command, but the screen stayed steady.

Thank you, Cyril. Thank you.

The board beeped once. Success.

“Finally.” Lipinski wrote a new set of coordinates and a new speed on the display. Dobbs opened her mouth and closed it again. Lipinski was preparing to leave as slowly as they had entered.

Ground-side pilot, she chided herself.

The screen flickered twice. Dobbs stabbed her finger on the FREEZE command. The display stopped dead. Dobbs’ heart filled her mouth. She pictured the Fool inside circling the strange signal, lifting it up, reaching inside it to see what was there, and finding something totally unfamiliar, and totally unauthorized.

But the screen stayed steady. Dobbs wished fiercely that she was in there. She should have gone in. She could lie in there. She could fast talk the other members. She’d know who that little flicker was. Cohen, or Brooke, Guild Master Havelock, or a total stranger. She could reach into them and make them understand…

I could get spotted and chased out in three seconds, she reminded herself.

“Okay.” She squeezed Lipinski’s shoulder. “Try it.”

Lipinski re-wrote the travel commands and the signal started its slow glide back to them.

After another eon, the display wrote COMPLETED across itself. Dobbs let out a long breath and felt all the strength in her knees run away like water.

“Damn, we are good!” Lipinski squeezed her hand where it rested on the counter. Dobbs hesitated just one second before she pulled her hand away and used it to fish out her pen and tap the READOUT selection on the open menu.

Their slow, nerve-wracking search had found five answers. Four of them were hospital level admissions; one for injuries, three for illness. The last entry was for a Fool that did not have a current location or assignment.

Theodore Curran. Registry number; five.

Five? Dobbs’s mind almost refused to process the number. Five? The missing Fool was one of the Guild founders? A sick sensation crawled into her stomach. Cohen had said the stranger was somebody fast, somebody old.

How long has he been gone? What’s he doing out there? Did they let him leave? Did he run away? What’s he doing out there? Why didn’t they say anything? Tell anybody?

Why am I thinking of the Guild like I’m separate from them?

The sick sensation reached up for her heart.

“Evelyn?” said Lipinski quietly. “Are you going to be okay?”

Her shoulders drooped all on their own. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

He reached towards her but she stood up and moved away before he could touch her. “Erase that file, Rurik, and the system records. We’re in enough trouble as it is.”

I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I don’t want to think about what’ll happen if anyone found out I showed a Houston how to crack the network. Not even Cohen would forgive me for that.

She let the stair hatch slam shut behind her and realized she didn’t have the slightest idea what she was going to do next. She leaned against the wall and pressed her palm against her forehead. The Guild was always the final answer. If there was a question, or if she was afraid, or in too deep, she went back to the Guild. That was the way it was. The Guild was what pulled her out of the war she had started with her birth. It gave her coherence and purpose and guidance. Where did she go now that the Guild wasn’t safe anymore?

Dobbs straightened up. She couldn’t let anybody see her like this.

It’s not the whole Guild, she told herself as she descended the stairs. It’s a few of the Masters, at most. We’re just proving we can be as stupid and paranoid as Human Beings, that’s all. Cohen will have some idea who we should go to with this. Maybe Brooke will have some ideas too. As soon as this is out in the open, it’ll all get sorted out. It just needs to get brought out. That’s all.

A small, irrational surge of anger ran through her as she climbed the stairs. Verence, why aren’t you here to help me? Which Guild Master do I trust without you around?

She let herself out into the Guild Hall. Her name on the entrance memory board caught her eye.

MASTER OF CRAFT EVELYN DOBBS, REPORT TO GUILD MASTER MATTHEW HAVELOCK IN CONFERENCE TWELVE.

Dobbs took a deep breath and forced her feet to move in the right direction. It was only a matter of time before she’d have to see him again anyway. It might as well be now. Once Guild Master Havelock was done with her, she could get back into the network and she and Cohen could figure out what to do next.

No escort this time, at least. She mused as she crossed the park. Dinner time was approaching and except for herself, the plants and the birds, the place was deserted. There were seldom more than three hundred Fools in the Hall at one time, so finding even one of the parks empty was not too unusual. This time though, it emphasized her isolation and made Dobbs shiver.

Get this over with, she told herself. Get back to the Pasadena and get back into the net. Tell Cohen what’s going on. He’s Hall staff. He’ll know who will listen to us, who’ll get this all out in the open.

She passed through the bulkhead to the conference module. This was one of the few areas of the Hall that actually looked like a space station. It was a narrow, curved, low-ceilinged hall with hatchways set at regular intervals.

There was still nobody else visible.

Conference Twelve was the sixth hatch from the entrance on the left-hand side. Dobbs didn’t want to give herself any additional time to get nervous. She palmed the reader immediately and strode inside as soon as the hatch cycled back far enough.

The conference room was full of chairs and tables on tracks so that they could be slid into different configurations as the meetings required. One long table had been assembled in the middle of the room. Its broad side faced the hatch. On the far side sat Guild Master Havelock and five others. Dobbs could only put names to three of them, but they all had the Guild Master’s star hanging from their necklaces.

Dobbs throat began to close. There was nowhere for her to sit down. The hatch cycled shut behind her. Her hands opened and closed on nothing but air.

What is going on?

Havelock stood up and rested his fingertips on the table top. “Evelyn Dobbs, you have violated Guild security and policy, you have disobeyed direct orders and have placed all of us at risk. Do you deny any of this?”

Dobbs staggered. What had gone wrong? How had they spotted her? Where was Cohen? Did they know how he had helped her? She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. She was facing down six of the twenty-four Guild Masters and being accused of treason. Treason that she had in fact committed, but for a long, chaotic moment she couldn’t even remember why she’d done it.

It took all her training in physical control to lock her knees so she could remain standing.

“I do not deny any of it,” she said. “I did it because Guild Founder Theodore Curran kidnapped a newborn AI that I was responsible for and Guild Master Havelock to whom I report is not doing anything about it.”

No one moved. No voice raised in question or protest. No one even blinked. The Guild Masters sat facing her as still as statues. Under their unflinching gaze, Dobbs felt her strength ebbing away.

They don’t care why I did this, she realized. They don’t care that there’s somebody else out there. I’m the one who broke the rules and I’m the one they caught and they don’t care about anything else. With a sick lurch in her stomach, she realized something else. They all knew what Master Havelock had done, and they weren’t doing anything about that either.

But that was wrong. That had to be wrong. This was Guild Hall and these were her Guild Masters. These were the ones who had made it possible for her to live at all. Without them she would be nothing, just a few scraps and shreds in a ravaged network, if that much. There had to be more going on here than she saw. There had to be.

Havelock’s eyes bored into hers. “You are stripped of any and all ranks and privileges. You will be confined to one set of quarters without network access until a full sitting of Guild Masters can be convened and a final determination made in your case.”

He seemed to be waiting for her to protest, to try to explain. Dobbs saw all the blank, impervious faces of her Masters and knew that anything she could think to say would be useless.

But there had to be something else going on. Something was happening she didn’t know about. It had to be. Nothing else made sense.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything more, Havelock lifted his fingertips away from the table. “The decision of this panel is closed. You will come with me to your quarters.”

That was all there was to it. The other Guild Masters, murmuring softly to themselves got to their feet, but didn’t move to the door. They let Havelock walk up to Dobbs. His hand closed around her elbow. Holding her tightly, almost painfully, he propelled her out of the room.

He kept his eyes straight ahead as he took her out of the conference area to the core elevator bundle. In a car to themselves, they sank down to the next ring. Dobbs expected the doors to open onto the dormitory can, but they didn’t. Instead, they let in the sight of gleaming white tiles, bright red warning signs and the scent of antiseptic. This was the medical can. It was bare, sterile and full of closed hatches. Behind the hatches injuries were being healed and diseases were being cured, just like any hospital. Behind some of them, though, functioning human bodies were being assembled from vat grown parts so they could be ready for new AIs to be brought in, or for old members whose own bodies had aged too severely, or been injured too badly, to be useful anymore.

Dobbs hadn’t been here since her last check-up. Then, it had seemed merely hospital-like. Now, it was a place of secrets, like the rest of the Hall. It was a warren of hidden ideas kept away from her by thick walls and blank eyes.

Havelock palmed the reader on one of the closed hatches. It cycled back to reveal a small room with a bunk, a view screen, an intercom grill, a chair and a toilet alcove. It was a simple place, much like the room she’d been in when she first came awake in her body.

Dobbs crossed the threshold. Havelock didn’t. She turned around.

“Can you at least tell me why you won’t say what’s really going on?”

For the first time, bewilderment crossed his face. He smoothed it away quickly. “Dobbs, this is what’s really going on.”

He palmed the reader and the hatch cycled shut.

For a long time after that, Dobbs could do nothing but stare at its blank, ceramic surface.