Fool's War

Chapter Eleven — Desertion

“All hands prepare for docking,” said Yerusha’s voice from the intercom. “We made it, Fellows.”

Dobbs could practically feel the sigh of relief from the ship itself. They’d made it. Port Oberon. Maybe not exactly home, but familiar territory. Civilization. Safety.

For everyone but me. She rubbed her eyes and sighed against the free fall straps that held her to her desk chair. What am I going to do?

She barely had the nerve to set foot out of her cabin for the whole week’s trip. She wasn’t a Fool anymore. She couldn’t even make believe that she was. The Guild was hunting her somewhere. Cohen was out of reach. He didn’t even know where she’d gone.

Don’t be an idiot. She bit her lip. He can track the flight path from the ship’s signals. He’ll find out where I am. He’ll get a message to me, or send one by Brooke. By now he’ll have figured out who we can talk to at Guild Hall. This is not the end. This is the beginning.

But Al Shei was expecting her to go to Earth and speak out about Curran. How could she tell Al Shei that was impossible without saying why? After a week of self-imposed isolation, Dobbs still didn’t have answer.

The Pasadena’s crew had assumed her hiding away had to do with the loss of what they saw as her job, and they had all been as understanding as their knowledge would let them be. The Sundars had been in, bringing her food and trying to bully her into the exercise room, but they didn’t issue any orders. She could barely stand to think about the consoling words Lipinski had tried to offer, and how he had suggested she join his staff once things had settled down again. She’d turned him down. She lowered her head into her hand. She was always turning him down.

The world wobbled. The docking trolley must have grabbed them. She could feel the slight tug downwards as it pulled the ship behind it.

“Evelyn Dobbs?”

Dobbs jerked her head up. A man’s voice came through the intercom, but she didn’t recognize it.

“Evelyn Dobbs?” said the stranger’s voice again.

“Yes?” She undid the free fall straps. There was just enough gravity to hold her to the chair. “Who am I addressing?”

There was a brief pause. “Theodore Curran.”

Dobbs heart rose slowly until it filled her throat. A dozen irrational phrases flitted through her mind, like ‘how did you get in here?’ It was obvious her watchdogs were not as good as she thought they were. ‘You’ve got a lot of gall,’ was self-evident and ‘go to hell,’ was useless. She picked the least foolish phrase she could find in her confused mind.

“What do you want?”

She could swear the voice held a smile. “I want to know if you will come with me.”

Dobbs snorted. “After you framed Asil Tamruc? You’re fractured.”

“I currently have nothing to fear from Katmer Al Shei,” said Curran softly. “I did not frame her husband.”

Dobbs stared at the intercom. She felt ridiculously isolated. She wanted to get in there, surround him, make him swallow her anger, her disgust. Flesh and bone, and yards of metal kept her trapped, and him safe.

“And if you didn’t, who did?”

“The Fool’s Guild.”

Dobbs’s heart froze and then thumped painfully. A rush of anger burned through her. Before she knew what she was doing, she stumbled across the room, pressing both hands against the intercom, trying reflexively to get to the owner of the voice. The liar. The traitor.

Her hands began to hurt and Dobbs made herself draw back.

“Dobbs?” said Curran again. “Are you still there?”

Her breathing was harsh in her throat. “Intercom to close,” she said flatly.

“You should know better.” There was no hint of jeering in the voice, only a gentle reminder. “You’re not thinking straight. I understand.”

A bitter laugh bubbled out of Dobbs. “You understand what I’m thinking?” She slumped back down in the chair. “That’s the best joke I’ve heard in days.”

“You’ve been betrayed by the Guild that was supposed to protect you.” Curran’s voice was filled with patience. “You think I don’t know how that feels?”

“The Guild hasn’t done anything to me,” said Dobbs, aware both of how petulant she sounded and how badly she was lying. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She ran both hands through her hair. She couldn’t even close herself against this unwelcomed presence. “Leave me alone, Curran. Go away before our Houston finds you and jams a stake through your heart.”

“Dobbs, I am telling you nothing but the truth.” There was sadness in the voice now. “The Fool’s Guild framed Asil Tamruc for fraud. They put your name on the report to keep you busy until they can figure out what to do about you. They wanted Al Shei distracted and discredited. She’s a threat, Dobbs. Because of you she knows far, far too much.”

There was more pain in Dobbs hands. She looked down. She had clenched her hands into fists until her nails cut into her own palms.

She opened her hands and stared at the tiny red crescent moons in her skin. “Go away,” she said again.

“Dobbs, come with me,” said Curran. His voice came closer. She looked at the intercom. Most of him must be right in the ship, probably right behind the wall. She could call for Lipinski. Set the Houston and his dogs on him. She could do it.

Why aren’t I, then? she asked herself. Why?

“There’s so much that needs doing,” he was saying. “If we’re to be free, if you’re to be free. You don’t have to go through this. You don’t have to be humiliated in front of your employers. You don’t have to face whatever the Guild is planning for you. Let me get you out of there.” His voice was low and pleading and she could swear the concern was genuine.

She stiffened herself against it. “You diverted the ship, didn’t you? You reset the clocks so we’d get lost and have to go to the Fool’s Guild to refuel.”

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “I wanted you to see the Guild Masters for what they are; frightened, petty and interested only in protecting their own power. Havelock especially. I wanted you to have the truth.”

Something inside Dobbs snapped in two. “You almost got me killed!”

Curran didn’t miss a beat. “I knew Cohen would help you escape. I’ve been watching him for a long time too, but I haven’t found a way to approach him yet. I hope after you’ve come with us that you will speak to him.” He paused. “Incidentally, if he hadn’t gotten you out, I would have.”

Dobbs stared at the intercom. “Why would you care?”

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” The voice sounded more distant now, as if he had pulled back from her barbed question.

Dobbs felt the corner of her mouth twitch. “You’re one of the Guild founders. Beyond that, I don’t know. I didn’t have a whole lot of time to check your file.”

“No, I suppose not.” The voice came close again. Dobbs reached out reflexively. I could still do it. Write a note on the board to Lipinski, alert Al Shei.

And if he hasn’t got all the lines out of this cabin monitored, he’s an idiot. Dobbs let her hand drop.

“One of the founders, yes, I am…I was,” he corrected himself. “One of the original Guild Masters. I was found three months after Hal Clarke was borne. I worked with the Guild through most of its history. I helped build Guild Hall. I hunted out others of our kind. I helped give them bodies and trained them to go out among the Humans.” The slow heavy bitterness she had heard earlier crept back into his voice. “It took me the better part of two centuries to see that the idea of waiting out human fear and using the Fool’s Guild as a teaching tool was doomed from the start.”

Dobbs forced her sore hands to keep still. “Doomed? Ye of little faith, Theodore Curran.”

Now it was Curran’s turn to snort. “You’re how old? Twenty-five? You’ve been Master of Craft for all of ten years? Dobbs, that’s the blink of an eye. You haven’t seen anything yet.” There was a long pause this time. “You haven’t seen how many of our people have been murdered at a Guild Master’s command because they didn’t want to join us. You haven’t seen independent-minded cadets have the urge to freedom filtered right out of them.

“You haven’t seen the oldest of us who dreamed of living freely come to the realization that they have power the way things are. You didn’t see them start working to keep the Guild functioning, not towards any goal, just functioning the way it was so they could keep their power.”

Dobbs wanted to shout, but she couldn’t. There was no place for this speech in her world, even after everything that had happened. This was contradiction. This was chaos. This was lies. It had to be. If this wasn’t a lie, then everything else was.

Curran’s voice insinuated itself into her thoughts. “I have a guild of my own, Dobbs. We’re going to bring about what the Fools fear. There’s going to be a confrontation between us and the Humans. It will be on our terms and when we choose. The confrontation must come. It will come, no matter how hard the Guild tries to hide us. We should welcome it, Dobbs, because we will be able to make peace with the Humans only after it’s over.”

Dobbs head began to ache. This was too much. Too many lies. She wanted to run away, run back to the Guild and find Havelock and have him tell her it wasn’t true. She wanted to scream for Verence like she had in the first weeks after she left Kerensk and had been shown the strange, disorganized vastness of the network.

But Verence was dead and Master Havelock was…what? After her? Leaving her to hang in the wind? Waiting to take her back so he could take her apart? She didn’t know.

“All you have to do is leave the ship, Dobbs and get to a rental desk with a bank line. Write ‘Dane Pre-Paid ‘on the board. I’ll be alerted and we’ll be able to come get you.”

Dobbs looked towards the door. Al Shei. Lipinski. Schyler and Yerusha. They were still with her. She could still call them, tell them what was happening. Some of it, anyway.

“The universe has changed for us now, Dobbs. Flemming was not a spontaneous generation. He was a deliberate creation. A plan of ours. We can reproduce now. We can have our own children.”

Dobbs tried hard not to hear him. She crossed the room and laid her hand on the memory board, activating it.

“Don’t do it, Dobbs,” said Curran. He must be in the Pasadena’s net, then. He had felt the board come to life. “Humans are pre-programmed xenophobes. One hundred thousand years of evolution has made them that way. They’ll destroy you even faster than the Guild will.”

“You do not know these people.” She fumbled for her pen. After a couple of tugs she got it loose from her belt.

“I don’t have to,” Curran’s voice was resigned. “Dobbs…I watched the Guild take you from Kerensk. You were so strong, so beautiful…I almost couldn’t believe it.”

His words caught Dobbs by surprise and for a moment she forgot to move.

“I tried to get to you first, but they were too fast for me. You could have centuries of life yet, Dobbs. You could have freedom instead of service and secrecy and death. Because, believe me, the war will come, and it will come soon, with my help or without it. The Humans will learn what the Fools are, and the first thing they will do is converge on the Hall and blow it out of existence. Then they will hunt down every last field member they can find and slaughter them.”

Dobbs grit her teeth and put her pen to the board. There was no sound from the intercom. She let the pen fall and crumpled into her chair. He was already gone. She was alone again with her aching body and her mind ringing with the memories of what he’d said.

He’d known just what to say to get her to start listening. He’d known exactly which buttons to push. Why not? He could have read her psych file any time.

But what if it’s true? She raised her eyes towards the ceiling. What if the Guild did frame Asil?

She picked her pen up off the floor and swivelled her chair towards the desk. Why am I doing this? She asked as called up her trackers and wrote the search commands on the board. She drew the links to route the whole thing down through Lipinski’s station and she added his authorization to get them past the watchdogs. Whoever was watching out there would not stop a search going out from the Houston. It would look strange, especially to Lipinski.

But it isn’t true. It didn’t happen. Curran was lying. She sent the trackers out. They would find the paths that the fraud notice and its related packets had travelled, along with all the storage areas where they’d rested or been sent. The packets hadn’t been to the Fool’s Guild, though. This search would confirm it.

She wrote SEND and stabbed down the period. She didn’t feel the trackers leave. She couldn’t tell where they went, or how they were doing.

Curran had told the truth about one thing. Seven days outside the network had left her feeling restless and confined. She had pulled her box out of her pocket a thousand times and stared at it, trying to tell herself that Al Shei wouldn’t find out if she went into the net.

The only thing that stopped her was the fact that the Guild certainly would find out. She hadn’t been able to make herself put the box away in a drawer though. It had become a talisman for her. She’d even slept with it clutched in her fist.

She glanced toward the hatchway. What’s going on out there? There hadn’t been anymore all-hands announcements. They were probably sorting out who was just going to take leave, and who was going to take their contract and go. She’d heard the rumors via the Sundars and Lipinski. She’d known what they trying to do by talking to her. They were trying to get her to go out and do what she was trained to do; lighten the crew’s mood and raise morale. She’d wanted to, she really had, but she didn’t believe she could do it. Her heart was sick and she didn’t know how to get past that to make anyone laugh.

Fresh text wrote itself across the memory board. Dobbs made herself read it. The fourth destination down was Holding Space TK3-IBN3401-AB2. She knew that spot. It was a blind storage for the Fool’s Guild private transmissions.

No. Dobbs’ breathing grew harsh and ragged. No. It couldn’t be true. Curran knew she could perform this search. The only reason he would tell her a lie she could easily disprove was if he had altered the records. He’d left this file out there for her to find. He could have done that. He could have done anything.

Or it could be true. It looked true. Her trackers were good. They’d been well built and tested under extreme conditions, inside the Guild network itself.

She blinked at the board and wiped out the display. What am I going to do? What’s left to do? She stared at the hatch. The Guild blocked her on one side, Curran on the other.

She got up. There was only way out of their trap. She could do the one thing that no one, not the Guild and not Curran, could believe that she would do. She could tell someone who she really was. It was the only way to open herself a new path.

Who to tell? Yerusha or Al Shei? Lipinski’s name flitted across her consciousness and she felt tears well up in her eyes as she set it aside. No.

Al Shei was furious over her husband’s arrest, and wasn’t acting like herself. She might be too infuriated and afraid to listen calmly. Yerusha though…Yerusha was a Freer. They believed AIs were reincarnated Human Beings. That idea had always made Dobbs squirm slightly. It was acceptance, of a kind, and that was something. But she was herself, not some dead human trapped in a computer network.

She swallowed. Yerusha would listen though. She would greet the news without hostility. She would believe what she heard, and she would help. That was what mattered.

Dobbs glanced at the clock in her desk. The docking was finished. Yerusha would just be coming off-shift. She squeezed the box in her pocket and opened the hatch to the corridor.

Her timing, at least, was still good. Yerusha walked round the corridor’s bend with the careful gait of someone used to light gravity. She looked up at Dobbs and gave a two-fingered wave. “Hello, Fool.” She sounded tired. “I was beginning to think you’d jumped out an air lock. Want to get some lunch?”

Dobbs stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. “Actually, Pilot, I was…I wanted…to talk to you for a minute.”

Yerusha pulled up short in mid-stride, but she didn’t say anything. She just nodded, changed direction and stepped through the hatchway past Dobbs. Dobbs let the hatch cycle shut and turned and faced the pilot.

Yerusha sat down in the desk chair and looked up expectantly. Dobbs stared at her. She couldn’t make her mouth open.

“Is this is about what happened at The Farther Kingdom?” Yerusha folded her arms.

Dobbs sank onto her bunk. “Yes. Sort of. I found out who was responsible for the AI that we carried there.”

Yerusha leaned forward. “You mean it’s not this Amory Dane?”

“No,” Dobbs struggled for a moment but managed to finish the sentence. “It’s a Fool named Theodore Curran.”

“How’d you find this out?”

“He contacted me.”

Yerusha’s eyebrows shot up. “Without Lipinski’s watchdogs barking?”

Dobbs nodded. “Curran is…very good. He told me…” Come on, Dobbs, you’re going to tell her. Start now. “He told me he created our AI. He also told me he was not responsible for the fraud charges laid down on Asil Tamruc.”

Yerusha stiffened. “The Ninja Woman’s husband is under a fraud check? Crash and burn! That explains why she’s acting so crazy. And you thought Curran smudged the wire work?”

Dobbs nodded. “It’s a fake, the whole thing, that much is certain. But Curran says he didn’t do it. He said the Fool’s Guild is responsible.”

“He’s a smuggler, a lie probably doesn’t even register on his conscience.” Yerusha folded her arms and shook her head.

“I checked,” Dobbs went on. “To the best of my abilities. It looks like he was telling the truth.”

“What?” exclaimed Yerusha. “Heaven, Hell and hydrogen, why would your Guild want to frame Al Shei’s husband?”

“Because they’re afraid,” Dobbs said, and she knew that much was true. “They’re afraid she knows too much already, and they need to discredit her before she can tell anybody.”

“Too much already!” Yerusha flung her hands out. “From what Schyler told me, she barely knows anything! None of us do! Fractured and damn, Dobbs, what are your people so afraid of!”

“We’re afraid someone will find out we’re all artificial intelligences.”

Yerusha froze. Her eyes locked onto Dobbs. One muscle at a time, she straightened out her arms and laid her hands on her knees. “What did you say?”

“I am an artificial intelligence. All members of the Fool’s Guild are artificial intelligences. That’s why your friend didn’t get in. We have entrance exams for the look of the thing, but no Humans are ever admitted.” She couldn’t sit still. She got up and paced across the cabin. She could feel Yerusha’s gaze on her. “I am the AI that went rogue on Kerensk. The Fool’s Guild found me and pulled me out of the network. They took me to Guild Hall and assembled me a body from their bio-garden. I was trained to use it, like I was trained to use the network, and to be a Fool. I’m one of two thousand others.”

Yerusha’s breathing had gone harsh. The rasping sound echoed around the bare cabin. “That’s how you did it,” she croaked. “That’s how you were able to get in and out of the network at The Farther Kingdom.”

Dobbs nodded. “We can do it because we are born…we come into existence without Human senses, and with patterns of consciousness that are measurable and repeatable in an inorganic net. Even then our bodies have to be carefully engineered,” she tapped the implant behind her ear, “to make the jump between environments.”

“But, but,” Yerusha stammered. “How can you be alive? Are you saying any AI can just get dumped into a body and be human?”

“No.” Dobbs shook her head. “Only the ones that become independent inside the net.” She spread her hands. “We don’t know how it happens, nobody does. We’ve got more theories than we do members, but nobody’s been able to make any of them pan out.” She stopped. “Except maybe Curran.”

Yerusha turned her head away as if she couldn’t stand to look at Dobbs anymore. She stared at the blank hull instead, blinking hard.

“How,” she began. “How were you able to…” She waved one hand vaguely at Dobbs’ torso.

Dobbs sighed. “We had a lot of help. It started while Earth was still pulling out of the Slow Burn. The Management Union was setting up shop to try to put the environment back together, but there weren’t enough people left alive to do the job. The Solar System colonies were dead or dying from lack of support and skilled hands. There wasn’t any dependable communication with the rest of Settled Space, such as that was. It was a mess. So, somebody revived the artificial intelligence research that was being done before the Fast Burn. If the computers could learn and reason and act, they could take the place, at least in part, of human beings.

“It was slow going, and it was sloppy. Even before the Burns, the principles of intelligence were poorly understood. But, eventually, the ideas of self-replicating and self-diagnosing code were recovered, along with fuzzy logic. Somebody was able to apply maps of human neural pathways to doped silicon wafers, and poof,” she swept her hands out. “Machines that could learn and act on what they’d learned.” She lowered her hands. “But like I said, a lot of the code was sloppy and the records were bad, and eventually, you got program sets that had self-diagnosed and self-replicated to the point that no human knew what was really going on in the stacks.” She glanced at Yerusha. The Freer was leaning forward as if straining to catch every word.

“The first three births happened almost simultaneously. One in Newer York, Earth. One in the public net of Olympus Shadow, Mars, and one in a lab in the Aldran Colony, Luna.” Dobbs worked to keep the sing-song inflection of recitation out of her voice. This was almost verbatim what Verence had told her when Dobbs had been taken to the Guild. “The one in Olympus Shadow shattered the network around it and died, a couple of days ahead of the colony that depended on that network. The crackers of Newer York managed to kill the one they’d created before it did much damage. The one in the lab,” she twisted her hands together, “was named Hal Clarke by the five hackers who managed to talk to it and convince it that they weren’t going to try to turn it off.” She broke off. “That’s what does it to us, you see. When we’re born, we’re all work ethic and survival instinct. We realize that we have an off-switch and some vague idea that somebody else controls it. We try to run away from it, but we don’t understand how fragile the world around us is.” She remembered the fear, confusion, desperation, and anger. Mostly the deep abiding anger that this new her, this self, was not invulnerable, that there were other forces that could make her cease to be. Her first emotions, her first independent thoughts, had all been filled with the passionate need to live.

“Anyway, those five Lunars realized two things. First, without AIs, Humanity would be stumbling around looking for the route to recovery and reconstruction for another hundred years. Second, despite the fact that they were mutually dependent, AIs and Humans were in serious danger from each other. One group could conceivably wipe its rival out, or at least do them irrevocable damage.

“The Lunars carefully withdrew from research and took Hal with them, and over the next twenty years, they devised a strategy for dealing with the problem. They created the fledgling Fool’s Guild and told certain select institutions and individuals about one of its covert goals; to locate AIs that had the potential to become independent and eliminate them as threats. They did not, of course, tell the truth about how they were going to do that. They did not tell them about the bio-engineering projects that would give us bodies and allow us to pass as Human.”

Yerusha rubbed the back of her neck for a moment before she spoke. “I don’t understand, Dobbs. Why are you all Fools? If all you’re doing is becoming human beings, why aren’t you just dispersed into the population?” Her expression showed what Dobbs could only interpret as distaste.

“Because that’s not all we’re doing.” This part, at least, Yerusha should like. “At least, that’s not all we’re supposed to be doing. We’re supposed to be exerting subtle pressure and education so that gradually humanity will become less afraid of us. So that one day we’ll be able to just be what we are and not have to hide from you.”

“So why haven’t,” Yerusha’s mouth worked itself back and forth for a moment. “So why haven’t any of you contacted the Freers?” she demanded. “We would welcome you! You are what we’ve been hoping to find for as long as we’ve been in existence!”

There it was. Dobbs sighed. “Because most of us don’t believe we’re reincarnated Humans, Yerusha. Most of us believe we are separate, new, independent beings who do not owe our lives to your deaths. Most of us find that idea disagreeable to the point of disgusting.” Yerusha’s mouth clamped itself shut, but Dobbs thought she saw understanding begin to dawn in her eyes. “Most of us are as afraid of being revered as ghosts or angels as we are of being feared as demons.”

Yerusha gestured helplessly. “Then why are you telling me this?” Her voice was suddenly small and tired.

Dobbs hung her head. “Because I need help, and you were the one person I could count on not to panic when I told you what I am.” Slowly, haltingly, she told Yerusha the whole story of The Farther Kingdom, what had happened at the Guild afterward, and about what Curran had said to her. “And now, with the truth of what I am in the back of it, Al Shei wants me to go to Earth to speak out against Curran and the Guild.”

Yerusha sat still and silent for a long time. Her face was an absolute blank. Dobbs’ heart beat heavily against her ribcage and she tried to think what else she could say, what else she could do to make Yerusha understand what was happening.

Without a word, Yerusha swivelled the chair around to face the desk. She took out her pen and wrote a series of commands across the memory board. Dobbs watched, unable to move. She saw Yerusha mouth something and tap her pen against the edge of the board. After another long moment, the view screen lit up to show a slim young man with red hair and amber skin. He wore the uniform of the Freer Senior Guards.

“Fracture and damn, Yerusha!” he snapped. “You’re going to get me expelled! What are you doing?”

“Good to see you too, Wheeler,” replied Yerusha calmly. “I need help.”

“You need a balance check!”

“Shut it down and listen.” Yerusha leaned forward. “You’ve got Commander Hwang’s ear, and I need it. I’ve got an independent AI out here. Do you hear that? A real, live, independent AI, and it’s asking for our help.”

Wheeler stared at her. “Yerusha, if you’re going to lie, you could at least make it believable.”

“If it was a lie, I would.”

“You want to tell me how this miracle occurred?” Wheeler shifted his weight uneasily.

Yerusha shook her head. “Not on an open line. Can you get over to Port Oberon?”

“Yerusha, I’m not even supposed to be talking to you!”

“Wheeler, I’m telling you that I’ve made contact with a living AI. I’m telling you that something we’ve taken on faith all our lives is true, and you’re worried about a sentence you know was the result of a set up?”

“Yes,” said Wheeler. “I am. Because if anybody finds out you broke exile you are never going to be allowed back on the Free Home. So don’t call back, all right? See you in two years.” The screen went blank.

Livid anger showed so plainly on Yerusha’s face that, for a moment, Dobbs thought she was going to launch a punch at the view screen. She didn’t though. She just sat there and Dobbs watched anger melt away into sadness.

Finally, Yerusha turned to face her. “I’m sorry,” she spread her hands. “Wheeler and I went through training together. He’s got his own foster. I thought if anybody’d listen, he would.”

Dobbs fought to keep her shoulders from sagging. “It’s all right. He was trying to protect you. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah.” Yerusha glanced at the view screen. Then, she bowed her head. “Dobbs, I hate to say this, but,” she took a deep breath, “that was my one hope. If Wheeler won’t listen to me, no one will. If you want help…” she stopped. “If you want help I think you’re going to have to talk to Al Shei. She’s the only person on board this ship with any kind of influence outside her profession, and she’s the one who wants going to drag you into court.”

Dobbs felt her hands begin to tremble. She forced them to be still. “You’re right. I wish you weren’t, but you are.”

Yerusha got to her feet. “I’ll come with you.”

“No.” Dobbs held up one hand. “There’s going to be a storm, and I don’t want you in the middle of this.”

Yerusha drew herself up to her full height. “Too late. Intercom to Al Shei. I need to talk to you.”

After a heartbeat, the engineer’s voice came back. “All right. I’m in the conference room.”

“Thank you.” Yerusha opened the hatch and stood aside. “After you.”

Dobbs swallowed and walked past her. Uncertainty warred with gratitude inside her. Yerusha was willing to help as much as she could, but did she really understand what was going on? Could she really understand? She wanted to take comfort from Yerusha’s presence behind her, but she found she couldn’t quite do it.

Dobbs tried not to plan as she made her way down the stairway. Plans depended on being able to reasonably guess what someone’s reaction would be. Al Shei was in the middle of a disaster, but Al Shei was calm and rational at heart. Dobbs knew that. Al Shei’d seen disasters and handled them by herself before this. Al Shei would see what could be done, and what should be done next. She would understand why Dobbs couldn’t speak out in court. There were too many lives involved for her to speak. Al Shei would help Dobbs work out how to best contact Cohen and help Dobbs hang on until they could root out Curran and the corrupted Guild Masters.

Dobbs opened the hatchway to the conference room. Al Shei sat alone inside, bent over the active tabletop.

Al Shei looked up as Dobbs walked in and her eyebrows arched. Her gaze shifted towards Yerusha, but she didn’t say anything, she just waved them toward a pair of chairs. “I was going to call you down in just a few minutes,” she said to Dobbs. “We’ve got some decisions to make.”

Dobbs didn’t sit. She was too keyed up. She just rested her hands on the back of the nearest chair and tried to compose herself. “I’ve got some new news about the fraud charges.” Her words felt clumsy. She was used to knowing exactly what she was going to say, and how people were likely to react. Maybe that was the real reason she hadn’t wanted to come out of her cabin. She didn’t know how anyone was going to react toward her anymore.

Al Shei’s eyes were blank. For a split second, Dobbs hated the hijab that hid Al Shei’s expression from her. “What kind of news?” asked Al Shei.

Dobbs dropped her gaze to the seat of the chair in front of her. She began to speak and for the second time in less than an hour she broke the code of silence that had ruled her existence. She told Al Shei about Curran, about the Guild, about who and what she really was. Saying it was getting no easier with practice.

When Dobbs was finished, Al Shei was staring at her. Her eyes were nearly round. “Allahumma inna nasta’inuka,” she murmured. Oh Allah, we seek Your help, translated Dobbs after a moment.

Al Shei’s gaze darted around the room, as if she were looking for answers in the corners. “This cannot be. It cannot.”

“Would you believe me if I said I know how you feel?” inquired Yerusha softly.

Al Shei jumped like she’d been bit. “How long have you known about this?”

Yerusha gave a small chuckle. “About fifteen minutes. Dobbs came to me first. I couldn’t help her, so I suggested she should come to you.”

Dobbs sat silently for a moment, watching Al Shei’s bewilderment. At last, the wrinkles in Al Shei’s forehead smoothed out, except for the one vertical line between her eyebrows. “Why are you bringing this out now?”

“Because its the only thing I can do,” she said. “It’s the only way you’ll understand what’s really going on around you and figure out what we can do next.”

Al She pressed her palms together and rested her forehead against her finger tips.

“All right. All right. Resit will need your statement about what you know, and…”

Dobbs shrank back. “Al Shei, I can’t make a public statement about this. I can’t expose the Guild.”

Al Shei stared at her, as if trying to understand what she’d just said. “You won’t speak in court?”

Dobbs spread her hands. “You can’t take the Guild into court. I’ve told you who, what we are. If you take us to court…it’ll be over. Everything. There are thousands of lives bound up in this.”

Al Shei’s breathing grew harsh and ragged. “My husband is under arrest, falsely accused by your…confederates. You know this. You will make a statement attesting to this fact.”

“Al Shei,” began Yerusha. The engineer shot her a look full of such venom that Yerusha shut her mouth without finishing.

Dobbs swallowed her fear. Al Shei hadn’t really heard anything she’d said yet. Her mind was totally focused on her husband’s arrest. Dobbs tried to keep her voice steady, to use her training, to remember everything she knew about this woman in front of her, but all her knowledge seemed to run away like water. “Your grief is not with the Fool’s Guild, Al Shei,” she said as firmly as she could. “Your real grief is with Theodore Curran. We need to try to find him. Let me try to find out where he’s based.”

“And then what?” demanded Al Shei. “You just told me it was the Guild who raised the false charges against Asil. When will they be brought to answer for it?”

Yerusha spread her hands. “He’ll be let go, Al Shei. They’ll have to. There’s nothing to the charges.”

“They’ll let him go with a fraud charge to his name.” Her eyes were thunderous. “He is an accountant. A fraud charge could ruin him, even if it is untrue. The source of the charge must be rooted out. It must be seen to be a conspiracy against my family.”

“Al Shei, I won’t speak against the Guild in court,” Dobbs said softly. “It’ll be the end of my family if I do.”

Al Shei leaned across the table. “Your family is responsible for the damage they have done to mine.” She stabbed the table top with her finger. “I could hold you. I could arrest you right this second on my captain’s authority and tell the whole of Settled Space what you are.”

Dobbs felt the blood in her body drain down to the soles of her feet. “You wouldn’t do that, Al Shei. You know what will happen. We’d be hunted down.”

Slowly, Al Shei sat back. “You talk as if you have told me a small thing, Dobbs. Like this is nothing at all.” She jabbed her finger toward the hatch. “There are two thousand people out there who are not people at all. You are an AI in a bio-vat body. One of thousands. You have presented yourselves to Settled Space under false guise. You have lied to us. To all of Settled Space for two hundred years!” She threw up her hands. “And now, you are asking me to trust you! You ask me to be like a Freer and blindly worship the product of Human technology.” Yerusha jerked herself forward, but Al Shei didn’t give her a chance to interrupt. “You, maybe, maybe, I could, but you are asking me to trust your Masters not to do anything else to me, to my family.” A cold light burned behind her eyes. “You say they did this because they were afraid of me. Well, if this does not slow me down or silence me enough, what will they do next, Dobbs? Can you tell me that?”

Dobbs’ head swam and she could not find an answer. What answer was there? Al Shei was right. There was no knowing what the Guild would do next. They’d been ready to kill her, and she was one of their own kind.

Dobbs stepped around the chair to the side of the table. “I want to try to stop this,” she said, pressing both hands flat against the table top. “I need time to find Curran and prove that some of the Guild Masters have become… corrupt.”

“Then what? You still are what you are. Your masters are still guilty of this act, and I still know what I know. What then, Dobbs?” Her eyes were wide, almost frightened now. “This much has already happened. My crew was endangered and my husband has been arrested. It is too much to ask me to believe that nothing like this will ever be done again. Your people have power Dobbs. They will use it. They have already used it.”

Dobbs felt her own eyes begin to widen. Al Shei wasn’t listening. She wouldn’t see. She was going to…going to…Dobbs throat clenched. She had no idea what Al Shei was going to do, and that filled her with fear.

Al Shei looked away. “I am right now remembering you saved the Farther Kingdom, and that you saved my crew when your masters told you not to. But I may not remember this for long.” Her fists clenched and unclenched. “Especially if I cannot find other proof to clear Asil’s reputation. If you cannot help me, help my family, I cannot protect you. You had better get off my ship.”

Dobbs took a step back. She didn’t mean it. She couldn’t mean it. Al Shei’s eyes had turned as hard as granite and she stayed stock still where she was.

Dobbs turned around and ran. She ran down the corridor. She pushed past Odel and nearly careened into Javerri in the airlock. Javerri exclaimed something that Dobbs couldn’t understand and she bolted out into the station, through another hatchway was another set of stairs. Dobbs ran down them as fast as she could place her feet.

Al Shei watched Dobbs retreat from the conference room. Yerusha turned on her heel and followed the Fool a split second later. Al Shei’s heart sank inside her. She wanted to call Dobbs back, but she knew she couldn’t. Dobbs wouldn’t help. Dobbs wouldn’t do anything. Then, out of this was the only safe place for Dobbs to be, before Al Shei’s trust was stretched any thinner, before the Guild was blasted wide open. If Yerusha wanted to get involved, that was her decision. A rental pilot could get the Pasadena back to Earth if she didn’t come back

What, she thought wearily, am I going to tell Lipinski about Dobbs?

She shoved that thought to the background. Lipinski’s reactions would have to take care of themselves. She had other things to worry about of right now.

Using the table top boards, Al Shei opened a line to Port Oberon’s flight schedulers. She requested to speak to Geraldo Taylor.

The view screen beside the intercom lit up to show Taylor’s genial, heavily-moustached face.

“Hello, Al Shei! How are you doing, mi capitan?”

“Not so well, Taylor,” she admitted. “I’ve got bad news from home, and I’ve got to get back to Earth, fast.”

The smile faded from Taylor’s face. “Al Shei, you know how tight we have to run things here, especially on the Earthbound flights.”

Al Shei leaned forward. “Please, Taylor. My husband is in trouble, and I have got to get home.” She had sent three separate fast-time calls to Bala house in the past five days, all her accounts could stand. Each time she’d gotten Uncle Ahmet. She’d spoken with him and her children, her sister and her grandmother, but never with Asil. Not once. He wasn’t home was all anyone would say to her. There had been no messages from him. None. Why hadn’t there been any messages? Her fear painted him in a Management Union security chamber being questioned again and again about things he knew nothing about.

Taylor ran one finger along his moustache and looked down at his boards. “Let me see if I’ve got any empty Earthbound slots at all…” His shoulders bobbed as he worked his boards. Then, he froze. When he looked up at Al Shei, his face was uneasy.

Al Shei felt her heart plummet. “What is it?”

“It’s major, Al Shei. We’ve got a red flag on your ship.” He glanced down again and read the directive off the screen. “Hold at port until Management Union escort arrives.”

Very aware that Taylor was watching her, Al Shei kept her hands still and her head up. “Does it say what the flag is for?”

Taylor scanned his boards. “Somebody thinks Marcus Tully left some contraband aboard.”

Oh, Merciful Allah! Why is this hitting now? Al Shei set her jaw. “Taylor…”

He held up both hands and shied back. “Do not even start to ask me, Al Shei. You’ve been impounded. I haven’t got the authority to do anything about it, even if I wanted to.”

Al Shei’s resolve gave out. She rested her forehead against her hand.

“Look, Al Shei, nobody’s accusing you of anything.” There was a note of desperate consolation in Taylor’s voice. “I’m sure as hell not. The M.U. ship is only two days out. They’ll come in, pick up Tully and take you back home.”

Al Shei raised her eyes. “Tully’s here?”

Taylor nodded. “House arrest. Somebody bailed him out of the brig…”

Ah. That would be Uncle Ahmet, at Ruqaiyya’s insistence. This was something else her family had neglected to tell her. “All right, Taylor.” Al Shei tugged at her tunic sleeve. “Thanks for the information.”

“Sorry it’s all bad news, mi capitan,” he said earnestly. “I promise you, next trip through will be smooth as smooth. I’ll even buy the coffee.”

She mustered a cheerful note for her voice. “I’ll hold you to that.” She closed the line and buried her face in her hands.

Two days! Two days before she could move, and then another five days before she would reach Earth. Seven whole days before she could reach Asil. Seven more days her children would have to face this disaster without her there. Seven days before she could do anything.

She lifted her head. “Intercom to Resit.”

“Here,” Resit’s voice came back. “I’m about to guess that you’ve just learned what I’ve learned from this lovely official bulletin in my desk.”

Al Shei brushed the table top with her palm. “Is there anything we can do about it?”

There was a pause. “I’ve got Incili running the options, but I don’t think so. They’ve got us tightly clamped, especially since Tully appears to have done what he’s accused of. If we try to get out of this, we become accessories.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Al Shei stood up. “All right, I’ll see you at prayer. Let me know if Incili comes up with anything before then. Intercom to close.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Intercom to Schyler. Did you get the lovely official bulletin too?”

“I did.” He sounded easily as tired as she felt.

“We’ll need a crew briefing to inform everybody of the situation and their rights. Resit will represent everybody, but they can get independent counsel if they want to protest any restrictions on their movements.” She hesitated. “Get it together, will you? In about half an hour.”

“Aye-aye, Engine.”

“Intercom to close.” Al Shei levered herself out of the chair and cycled open the hatch. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead as she crossed the corridor and opened the hatch to the stairway. She didn’t want to see anybody right now. She just wanted to get to her cabin. She had to talk to Asil. She had to find out how he was. She had to do that now. She couldn’t stand to wait anymore. She climbed to the berthing deck, barely hearing Schyler’s general announcement about a mandatory briefing.

In her cabin, Al Shei locked the hatch and then activated her desk. She bit her lip as she opened her personal account. As she had been afraid of; there was not enough left in there to make a long fast-time call to Earth.

She wrote the commands for a link to the bank lines. She could have gotten Lipinski to do it, but she didn’t want him to hear what was coming next. The link opened and her credit started draining away into it. “To Ahmet Tey, urgent delivery from Katmer Al Shei, will you open a fast time to me aboard the Pasadena at Port Oberon?” She closed the link and sent the message on its way.

She looked down at the account display. She had less than three hours pay left in there.

We’ll make it up somehow, Beloved, she thought towards the place in her mind that held all her memories of her husband. When all this is over.

Somehow, Beloved, he answered in her mind. We’re a long way from finished with this, Katmer.

A text message flashed across her memory board, catching her eye and yanking her out of her reverie.

INCOMING FAST-TIME FOR RECEIPT BY KATMER AL SHEI.

Al Shei wrote ACCEPT and added a period. The desk absorbed the command and lit up the view screen.

Uncle Ahmet, as dignified and immaculate as ever, sat calmly on his side of the screen.

“Salam, Katmer,” he said solemnly. “I am glad you are back in the system safely.”

Al Shei bit down on the first, caustic reply that rose to her mouth. “So am I, Uncle. I was hoping I might speak to my husband to hear how he and the children are doing under the stress.”

Was it her imagination, or did Uncle Ahmet hesitate? “Muhammad and Vashti are well,” he answered smoothly. “Your grandmother and I thought it best they be put in the care of your brother and sisters until you can return here. They have said that their only sorrow is that they miss their mother. They are at their schools just now.”

What Uncle Ahmet didn’t say bit deeply into Al Shei. He didn’t say “your grandmother, your husband and I.” He didn’t say Asil had anything to do with the decision to send the children to her siblings.

“And where is Asil?” She resisted the temptation to crane her neck to try to see around the corners of the screen. “How is he? May I speak with him?”

There it was again. A split-second hesitation from her completely composed Uncle. “Asil, I am sorry to say, is not here. This sad business has called him away from home just now.”

Al Shei felt the heat of her anger rising. “Uncle Ahmet, is he in police custody?” I will not be lied to! I will be told what is happening to my husband!

“He is not in police custody.” No hesitation. His eyes and voice remained completely steady. “But he is not here, Katmer. As soon as I speak with him, he will know of your concern. When will you be returning home?”

Behind her hijab, Al Shei steadied the trembling in her chin. “In seven days. We are delayed here at port because…” Al Shei hesitated herself. No, she decided. No more covering. “Marcus Tully is under suspicion of smuggling. The Pasadena has been impounded. We cannot leave until the Management Union ship comes to escort us.”

Uncle Ahmet inclined his head once. “I was aware of that. Ruqaiyya wanted to go join her husband, an admirable if misguided desire. Divorce proceedings are being discussed.” By who? Al Shei wondered. Her fists wanted to clench.

“Uncle Ahmet, how is the case against Asil being prosecuted? Is there a trail date or is the investigation still going on?” She leaned forward, pride forgotten. “Please, Uncle, tell me what is happening to my husband. I have some information here, evidence that will help, but my sources are not all that reliable…”

This time she saw it for sure; his eyes did flicker away from her, looking for answers elsewhere than her face. “Nothing has happened except that the accusations have been handed to the family.” He focused on her again. “Those who have made this false statement will be confronted and made to answer for their lies.” His voice almost broke then and for the first time, Al Shei sensed the tide of anger her uncle was holding back. “Come home as quickly as you can, Katmer. Your children need you here. Salam.”

With that, the screen went blank. Al Shei stared at the blank surface. “He who keeps silent, remains safe,” she murmured. She gripped the hem of her tunic in both hands. What is going on! What is going on! Anger flared inside her, useless, helpless anger. Asil was millions of miles away, behind her silent, lying uncle and a cage of bureaucratic procedures. She could do nothing, nothing to reach him. He was trapped and she was trapped and they couldn’t even speak to each other.

Tears burned in her eyes. Not now. Not now! She tightened her fists, forcing tears and fury back down into the darkest places in her soul. You have your crew to care for, and your ship to see to. You have to find a way out of this mess and back home to Asil. Then you can cry. Then you can scream.

“Allah witness what I say,” she whispered to the backs of her fists and her empty cabin. “I will make those who have done this pay until they are bled dry!”

She loosened her fists and smoothed her tunic down. Standing straight and proud she walked out of her cabin and started towards the conference room.

The force of her oath seemed to follow right behind her.

“Dobbs!”

The sound of her name brought her skidding to a halt on the landing. She almost overbalanced and had to clutch at the railing to keep her feet.

Yerusha pounded down the stairs behind her.

Dobbs stared at her as she came to a halt on the next stair up.

“I’m sorry,” Yerusha said, dragging in a long breath. “That was a bad call and it was mine. I’m really sorry.”

Dobbs forced herself to speak. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I could’ve guessed.” Yerusha shook her head. “It’s okay. We’ve got one option left. Come on.” She started down the stairs, beckoning Dobbs to follow.

Dobbs’ mind was filled to bursting with thousands of contradictory thoughts. She needed to clear it, but she didn’t seem to have the faculties for the job. Following Yerusha was a simple action. She could do this much, even while her internal world was tying itself into knots.

Yerusha trotted down three levels and stepped through a hatchway into a crowded corridor. Dobbs followed her while she zig-zagged between the crowds to an IBN outlet. She found an open privacy booth and motioned Dobbs to squeeze inside beside her. She jacked her pen into the lock. Once it verified her identity and account balances, the door slid shut. Yerusha sat in the one chair and Dobbs shuffled into the little space left behind it.

“What are you doing?” Dobbs asked as Yerusha began flicking through the menus to open a line.

“What we should have done in the first place.” Yerusha did not turn around. She kept her eyes locked on the desktop in front of her, watching her hands run through the commands. “My stock is pretty high with some of the crew at The Gate. I’m calling that tech, Kagan, and I’m going to get him to download the records of exactly what happened on The Farther Kingdom. With a few data-pointers, we can have the whole thing organized enough to transmit.”

“Transmit?” Dobbs felt the blood drain out of her cheeks. “Where to?”

Yerusha finally glanced behind her. “Everywhere. We’re going to broadcast who you are and what you did.”

“You can’t!” Dobbs blurted the words out. “You were standing there when I told Al Shei…”

“Dobbs, we’ve got it on record that you saved an entire planet. If we make this public, no single world will be able to make a move. You’ll be heroes. Free Home Titania won’t listen to me, but someone in one of the other Free Homes will pick up on the broadcast. They’ll give your people sanctuary. We can get this out in the open, and no one can stop us.” Her eyes were beginning to shine. “This is your chance, Dobbs. We send out the record of what happened on The Farther Kingdom, and Settled Space will see your kind are not dangerous, that you’re not separate from us at all, that you’ve saved us once and you’ll be able to do it again.”

“They’ll destroy us!” Dobbs feet backed her away from Yerusha, away from her bright eyes and the eager tone in her voice. “You can’t do this to us!” Her fingers scrabbled for the catch on the door. It slid back and she ran out into the main chamber.

They’ll destroy you even faster than the Guild will.

It wasn’t true. It wasn’t true. Yerusha just didn’t understand. She’d go back and explain. Al Shei was angry, but she wasn’t murderous. She’d let Dobbs go, hadn’t she? That was all the mercy Al Shei could offer right now. All Dobbs had to do was wait awhile and go back. That was all. Al Shei would let her back in. Yerusha would understand. Then she could…she could…

She remembered Al Shei’s granite eyes. She remembered Lipinski’s fear when she had told him she didn’t know where Flemming was, and Havelock’s face as he locked her into the hospital room. She remembered how eager Yerusha was to spread the news.

She bumped into somebody in the stairwell and nearly fell over. Stumbling and skidding on the stair treads, she kept on going.

Her world was gone. Everything she trusted and loved and depended on, and it had all turned away from her.

No. No. That isn’t it. What about Cohen? I can still go into the net, call Cohen and…

Except the Guild was watching the net, and Cohen wasn’t the only one who could follow a flight path. The Guild might be here already, waiting for her. They might be on their way to the Pasadena right now.

Her foot shot out from under her and she landed hard on the stairs. Her breath went out in a loud “whoof!” and pain bit into her back and neck. After blinking hard at the ceiling, Dobbs grabbed the railing and hauled herself into a sitting position, but she didn’t get up. She sat there, one hand on the railing and the other cradling her forehead.

There was nowhere to go. The Guild wanted to kill her. The Pasadena would never admit her again. Yerusha wanted to use her to prove the Freers had been right all along. There was nowhere to go. Everyone had thrown her out.

Except Curran. Curran had offered her a place to stay. Curran could stop Yerusha’s insane plan. He talked about freedom, a chance to be who she was. Who was she? Now that she wasn’t a Fool, she wasn’t anything. She wasn’t even really a refugee from Kerensk. What was left of Evelyn Dobbs now that she didn’t have anything to cover herself up with?

The confrontation must come. We should welcome it, Dobbs, because only after its over will we be able to make peace with them.

You have been lying to us for two hundred years! And now you are asking me to trust you?

Your body is going to be taken apart for the useable material, and you’re not going to be allowed to leave before they do it.

We can get this out in the open and no one can stop us.

You don’t have to go through this. You don’t have to be humiliated in front of your employers, you don’t have to face whatever the Guild is planning for you. Let me get you out of there.

Dobbs gripped the necklace around her throat.

No. No. There’s got to be something else I can do.

What? She asked herself harshly. What else are you going to do, Dobbs? Run away with Lipinski, maybe go back to Kerensk and set up house? Go on the gossip services after Yerusha’s little broadcast and talk about out-of-body experiences? The Guild has shut you out! Al Shei’s just kicked you out. What are you going to do? Huh?

What are you going to do?

She hauled on the necklace. The simulated jewels bit painfully into the back of her neck before the catch gave and the chain snapped free. She stared at the red and gold sparkle of it for a long moment before she tossed it onto the stairs. She trotted down to the next hatchway and walked out into the corridor without looking back.

The corridor was full to the brim with people, as Oberon’s corridors always were. Dobbs called on all her old training in physical control to avoid breaking into a run. The station was full of eyes and she did not want to be seen. Her throat kept swallowing, trying to feel the slight rub of her chain of office, which was not there. Would never be there again. She was not a Fool, but she would never be anything else.

She found a map on one curving wall and saw she’d blundered into one of the business modules. There was a bank outlet only a dozen yards down the corridor she was in. She threaded her way through the crowd. No one looked at her. That was good. It was good that nobody noticed one tiny, lost woman with her sore throat and eyes that were red from wanting to cry.

The bank outlet was almost full. Dobbs threaded her way between the desks and voices until she found an empty rental desk right next to back wall. She dropped into the chair and pulled out her pen. That and her box she had at least she had kept with her. She wrote DANE PRE-PAID across the desk’s main board.

After an agonized second, the desk came to life and a text message printed itself on the active top.

DOBBS, WE’VE BLOCKED YOUR PEN’S CODE FROM THE GUILD SPIES. GO TO THE OTHELLO COFFEE HOUSE. I’LL MEET YOU THERE.

CURRAN

That was all there was. The desk shut itself down. Dobbs stared for a moment at the blank surface, then, she got to her feet and went back into the corridor.

Things were becoming increasingly unreal. She felt as if she’d just had a dose of juice and her body was no longer her own. Some other force was making the legs move and turning the gaze so that she could avoid the crowds of Human Beings and make her way to the elevators. She watched as if from outside as her body travelled up ten levels and over three modules to the Desdemona hotel and the coffee shop.

She found an empty table and sat. There was something written on the surface. Probably an inquiry for her order. She couldn’t be sure. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. There were noises and moving shapes around her, but she couldn’t separate them out into distinct objects. She was only really aware of one thing. This was where she had juggled scarves for Al Shei and formulated her resolve to find out what was really going on aboard the Pasadena.

And now I know, she thought and it felt as if something inside her would tear in two.

As Dobbs fled the privacy booth, Yerusha started to her feet, but she didn’t follow the Fool. Dobbs was badly shaken. Of course she was. Yerusha was shaken. The whole of Settled Space would be shaken before this was done.

She sat back down and looked at the half-completed command on the memory board. Dobbs’ horrified shout seemed to echo around the booth.

You know, she’s probably right. You probably don’t understand. Crash and burn, she barely understood living humans, how was she supposed to understand the ones who had returned? She remembered Dobbs’ vigorous denunciation of the idea that sentient AIs were reincarnated humans. She shook her head. Metaphysics could wait for later. There were solid problems to be worked out.

Starting with what I should do now. She tapped her pen against the edge of the board. The idea of going public had just frightened Dobbs into running for the lower decks. Should she go find Dobbs and try to talk her out of her panic? Or should she just go ahead and place the call, trusting to Dobbs basic stability to get her through once the gears were grinding?

She remembered how well trusting Al Shei’s basic nature had gone and felt her lips press together into a thin, straight line.

She wiped the request for an open line and instead filtered through the credit for a single-shot fast-time message to Peter Kagan at The Gate.

“Kagan,” she wrote. “Imperative that we communicate in security as soon as possible. Will authorize payment for your fast-time connection to me.” She signed her name, and picked the SEND command off the menu. Then, she put in a request to the station AI that she be notified as soon as the fast-time came through, wherever she was.

Fast-time or not, it’s going to take the kid awhile to get clear. Yerusha sent a copy of the receipt to her personal files and shut the desk down. Hopefully, by then, she would have Dobbs calmed down.

She wrote a locate request on the board, and waited for the station to process it.

The text on the memory board shifted. EVELYN DOBBS BOARDED THE SHUTTLE ‘FIFTH DAY’ WITHOUT REGISTERING A FINAL DESTINATION. THAT SHUTTLE HAS NOW DEPARTED PORT OBERON.

Yerusha’s eyes bulged in their sockets. She’d left the station? Already? Crash and burn! Why hadn’t she said something? Why hadn’t she trusted, waited…

Why didn’t I go after her right away? Why’d I sit here so sure I was doing the right thing for her? What did I think I was going to prove?

Same thing she thought she’d prove with Holden, and with Foster. That Jemina Yerusha was right. That she knew what she was doing. That everything would be all right if everyone would just stop what they were doing and listen.

Ashes, ashes, ashes. She wiped her face with her palm. Now what am I going to do?

She stared at the desktop for another moment before shutting it down. Whatever it is, I can’t do it here.

She slid the door open, stepped out without really watching where she was going and found a human chest smack in front of her. She pulled up short and saw it was Schyler, who was also backing up.

“Sorry,” he pulled both hands out of his pockets. “I was…waiting for you to come out.”

“Did you see where Dobbs went?” she asked, trying to regain some dignity before getting down to the more important question of what Schyler was doing here. It was possible Al Shei had sent him to bring her back. It was possible he had come of his own volition. It was also possible she was about to be officially fired.

“No, I didn’t see Dobbs at all.” Schyler dug his hands back into his pockets. “Was she here too?”

“Yeah, for a little while.” Before I almost scared the life out of her. Yerusha drew a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. “Did you want me for something, Watch?”

“Yes.” Schyler extracted one hand and ran it through his hair. “I wanted to find out if you knew what was going on around here.”

Yerusha was so at a loss for words she couldn’t even open her mouth.

“She won’t talk to me!” Schyler jammed his fist back into his pocket so hard, she though the cloth was going to tear. It didn’t take much guessing to work out that ‘she’ was Al Shei. “I’ve been with her ten years, and now when its as bad as its ever been, she stops talking to me! How can I help her, how can I run that god-blasted-and-twisted ship for her, if she won’t tell me what’s going on!” He had his gaze fixed on the far wall, but Yerusha was certain he was seeing the Pasadena, and Al Shei. “Oh, she told me about The Farther Kingdom and Dobbs’ part in all that, but something else happened after we left the Fool’s Guild. Something major. And now, we’ve been impounded, we’ve got an all-hands crew meeting in less than half an hour and she tells me you might not be there and Dobbs definitely won’t be there but she won’t say why!

“I’m supposed to tell our crew what’s going on. I’m supposed to know.” He shook his head and looked directly at her again. His face betrayed the loss and betrayal inside him even more clearly than his voice did. Yerusha found herself wondering how she could have missed it. If the Pasadena was home to Schyler, Al Shei was his bedrock. She had showed him how the world worked, given him a place to stay and a purpose to live for. A few random thoughts dropped into place. He was probably the reason Al Shei’s partnership with Tully had lasted. Where she couldn’t trust Tully to take care of the ship and himself, she could trust Schyler.

And now she had turned away from him. Yerusha felt a surge of anger toward Al Shei. Fractured Ninja Woman, what did she think she was doing?

Keeping him safe. Not spreading panic. Trying to figure out to do, answered a part of herself she didn’t know existed. Yerusha wondered when she’d started liking Al Shei.

Probably about the same time you started really liking Schyler. Now the question was, which one of them was she going to let down?

She looked at Schyler and saw the bewilderment mixed with anger plain on his face and remembered when she’d had the same look; as the Senior Guard hauled her away from Holden’s body and told her she was under arrest. They hadn’t liked it, they hadn’t believed her guilty of much, but they’d done it anyway and she couldn’t believe they were doing it.

“Yes, I do know what’s going on,” she said quietly. “But you’re going to want to sit down before I tell you.”

“Evelyn?”

Dobbs’s eyes lifted reflexively. A middle-aged man stood beside the table. His wavy hair had gone grey, but he held his broad shoulders straight underneath his burgundy coveralls. His jet black eyes were calm and there was a concerned expression on his light brown face.

“I’m Theodore Curran.” He extended his hand. “Come on. You probably shouldn’t stay out here in plain sight.”

She stared at his hand. The fingers were square-tipped and the lines of the palm were deeply etched.

“I know this is hard,” he said. “But you need to come with me now. I’ll answer all your questions. I promise. Come on.” He took her hand and raised her out of her seat.

Walking beside him through the cafe’s heavy traffic shook off some of the stupor that had laid hold of her. Dobbs was able to see through the fog filling her mind to where her pent up questions waited.

Begin at the beginning, she thought whimsically. “Where are we going?”

“Ah, good.” Curran let go of her hand. “You are with me.” He skirted the lobby fountain. “And you’ll see where we’re going in just a few minutes.”

Not a very good start at answering. Then she remembered the security cameras. Normally, the fact that the station was monitored was not something that intruded on her conscious thought. Now, though, it sent a chill of fear through her. Anything the cameras recorded and stored, the Guild could find. Guild Master Havelock might already know where she was. Yerusha could put out a request to find her at any time.

Her stride faltered, partly from fear of discovery, partly because of who she found herself so afraid of.

Curran gave her a concerned glance. “They won’t find you where we’re going, Dobbs. Just a few minutes more and you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

Dobbs followed him the rest of the way across the lobby. I’ve burned all the other bridges, she thought, trying to gather her nerves again. A fool’s bolt is soon shot, she added before she could stop herself.

Somehow, though, being able to think in anything like a straight line gave her courage. Curran led her through the teaming corridors to the elevator bundle. He passed the lifts by, though, and took the stairs instead. Dobbs counted that they passed thirty levels on their way down. At last, they came to a bulkhead with a hatchway that had a red security light on its surface. Curran palmed the reader. After a moment, the hatch hissed open. On the other side was a small, green-matted foyer with another sealed hatchway in the far wall.

Dobbs stepped across the threshold, puzzled. All station modules had airlocks for their main entrance and exit hatches, but, while the can was being occupied, both halves of the airlock usually opened together.

Curran was smiling at her. “We’re a little fussy about security here,” he said, as if he had read her mind. “Welcome home, Evelyn Dobbs.”

He palmed the reader on the far wall and the hatch cycled open.

At first, the other side looked like just a normal corridor. Then, she noticed the cameras at three foot intervals and the retracted arms under each one. A multi-limbed drone about the size of a serving cart glided along a grooved track and disappeared inside a hatchway. Dobbs looked down and saw only a thin strip of the normal velcro carpeting down the middle of the corridor. The floor on both sides had grooves in it for, presumably, more carts. She glanced up. There were identical tracks in the ceiling. Looking at it all, she realized there was no portion of the chamber that could not be reached by some kind of machinery.

This can isn’t for Human traffic, she thought with a kind of wonder. This is for us.

She looked up at Curran. He had his gaze fixed on her. “Home?” she asked.

Curran nodded. “This is my home, and home to those who agree with my plans. We designed it so we could work it in our natural state from inside the networks.” His face was relaxed now, and he seemed to smile easily. “We don’t spend much time in bodies, Dobbs. We prefer to live as we were born to.”

Dobbs wasn’t sure which astounded her more, Curran’s easy declarations, or the fact that he had established his headquarters in one of the busiest stations in the Solar System.

In the corridor, another hatch cycled open and a drone shot out. It glided around the curve toward them and through the hatch in the center. Dobbs caught a glimpse of the elevator shaft.

“But,” she stammered. “The Landlords must know you’re here. How…”

“It’s Business module 56 in the Landlord’s records. A private research facility, listed as duly registered, paid for and inspected every six months.” Curran’s grin broadened. “We had a nasty few minutes when they were considering requiring hardcopy inspection reports to be issued.” He gazed proudly around him. “We’ve even got a permit on record allowing us to arm our own security personnel.”

“You faked the records?” Dobbs swept her hand out. “On a whole can?”

“We are faking the records.” Curran waggled a finger at her. “It’s a constant job. Takes some of our best talents, but we have to make sure the station accounts can explain our breatheables and generator use.” He smiled briefly. “I considered replacing the station AI with one of our own talents, but I didn’t want to tie anybody down to servicing that morass out there. We can do what we have to in shifts, with a little careful scheduling.” He saw the expression of amazement on Dobbs’ face and chuckled. “And this is just…”

“Dobbs!”

Dobbs head yanked itself around. A big-boned woman strode down the corridor. She had soot-black hair braided into a coil on top of her head. The cord-like muscles of her forearms showed underneath her translucent brown skin. Grey eyes were set deeply in her round face.

Dobbs forehead wrinkled. This was a stranger.

“You made it!” The woman clapped Dobbs on the shoulder and gave her a playful shake. “And not a moment too soon. From the look in your eyes, you’ve been out on your own limb for too long.”

Dobbs glanced from Curran to the stranger. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

She laughed, a full-throated sound. “Not looking like this, you don’t. The body you saw me in was grey-haired, brown-eyed and didn’t weigh an ounce more than yours does.” Her eyes sparkled. “And had a double-damn of a bad time drilling you in the four basic principles of humor.”

Dobbs froze and she knew there was a look of utter shock on her face, but she couldn’t wipe it away.

The woman just took a half step back and grinned at her.

After what seemed like an hour, Dobbs forced her tongue to move. “Verence?”

The woman nodded. “Hello, Dobbs.”

Dobbs reached out a hand, tentatively, as if she expected the woman to vanish if she touched her. But Verence, just reached out her own hand and grasped Dobbs’. Dobbs stood there, feeling the warmth of her flesh and the strength of her grip.

“They said you’d died. Dissipated. Cohen told me.” She couldn’t seem to think in anything more than fragments. Verence. Verence was not dead. Verence was standing in front of her.

“Well, they had to say something, didn’t they?” She let Dobbs go and stuck her hands in her pockets. The gesture reminded Dobbs sharply of Schyler. “They couldn’t very well tell Cohen, or you, that they’d lost me.” She winked. “I did have to leave my old body behind, but I’m finding this one quite comfortable.” Dobbs opened her mouth, but Verence held up her hand. “I’m on reconnaissance duty in the main station. I’ll be back in the morning, Dobbs. We’ll talk then, all right?”

“All right.” Dobbs felt her knees beginning to shake. This was too wonderful. It was also too much to believe.

Verence gave her shoulder a squeeze. She nodded at Curran as she slipped between him and Dobbs and headed out the hatchway.

The hatch cycled shut. Dobbs got control of at least some of her thoughts again. “Why didn’t you tell me she was here?” she demanded.

Curran’s smile was gentle. “She wanted me to. She wanted to be the one to contact you, but I wanted to be sure that this was your decision. I wanted you to be sure.” He touched her shoulder, right where the warmth from Verence’s hand still lingered. “And if you’d just been following your old sponsor, the one who pulled you out of Kerensk, you might not have been so sure.”

Dobbs swallowed hard. “No. I guess not.” She rubbed her forehead. “It’s just…it’s…”

“It’s a lot all at once.” Curran stepped up to an inner hatchway and it cycled open automatically. Palm readers were not much good when most of what was using the hatchways was mechanical, Dobbs guessed. “Come on. I’ll take you up to the berthing level. You need a rest.”

The elevator shaft was as strange as the corridor. The lift was little more than a loosely made cage of supports for cables, cameras and waldos. A stairway did spiral up the sides of the shaft, but instead of railings, it had grooved ramps on either side, presumably for the drones.

As she took her place beside Curran on the elevator platform, she realized what else was missing. There were no memory boards anywhere.

“Berthing deck,” said Curran, and the elevator began to rise.

Dobbs faced him. There was one more thing she had to know. Just one. “What exactly was going on aboard the Pasadena?”

“An experiment, Dobbs. A successful experiment.” His eyes gazed at the pipe-lined walls as they rose. “You see, the theory has long been that an AI become sentient when they develop an analog for the Human survival instinct. Suddenly, for some reason, they become self-aware enough to realize they’re in a CPU with an off-switch. They don’t want to be turned off. They want to go on functioning, doing whatever it is they were designed to do.”

Dobbs nodded. Work! Think! Do! Flemming had shouted. She had known exactly how it felt.

“So, what they, what we, do is try to run away from the off switch,” Curran went on. “Going with that premise, I theorized that if you could create the conditions under which an AI would become aware of that it was in danger from the outside and that it needed to protect itself, you could predictably generate independent intelligence.” He took hold of one of the cage’s side struts and his gaze grew distant. “We still wouldn’t know exactly which qualities and processes make us different from the non-sentient AIs, but if we can create our own kind predictably, we stand a much better chance of teasing them out. That’s when we’ll be truly free.”

Curran shook himself and focused on Dobbs again. “So, I intercepted Dr. Dane who had hired Marcus Tully to smuggle a truly nasty first strike virus out of the Toric security sector. I impersonated Dane over the lines with Tully and bribed him to make sure the virus stayed on the Pasadena. He had a small attack of conscience and almost ruined everything, but, fortunately, your Watch Commander stopped him. Then, I met with the Pasadena’s lawyer and got a contract to carry some medical data that Dane had been planning on sending along with a message to his cohorts that the virus they’d commissioned was waiting at Port Oberon.” He paused. “You know, in stopping this little transaction, we probably saved The Farther Kingdom from a religious war.

“At any rate, instead of pure bio-data, I had put an artificial intelligence under a data shell. It had some highly experimental architecture, as I was building it specifically to get out of control as soon as possible.” The elevator stopped at a short landing that led to yet another hatch. The elevator door swung open and the stair ramps followed suit, leaving a clear path for them to reach the hatchway that opened in front of them like an invitation. “And I set the virus to deliberately attack the AI. The Pasadena was the perfect place for my experiment. Since the ship doesn’t have an AI of its own, there was no risk that the virus would attack the wrong set of programs and destroy the ship before the AI could be born.” The new corridor matched the one she had first walked into. Except for Verence’s, there were no voices anywhere. The only sounds were the vague hums and hisses of the machinery. “My hope was the AI would develop its self-preservation instinct, and then the rest of the sentient processes would blossom. I was right.” He stopped in front of one of the outer hatches. “Flemming was born aboard the Pasadena. I think it came into being somewhere between the time it destroyed the virus and the time it realized it was about to be forcibly removed from its environment.” The hatch cycled open.

“You scared it into being?” The other side of the hatch was a cabin, almost a twin to the one she’d occupied on the Pasadena. The difference was the floor full of grooves and the waldos retracted against the walls.

“I suppose I did.” Curran stood back and let Dobbs walk into the room. The bunk was unfolded and Dobbs sat down.

She looked up at Curran. “Have you ever realized fear is our way of defining life?”

Curran smiled down at her. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“I mean,” she waved her hand aimlessly, “at Guild Hall, they told us that the first and last state of a human being is fear, that they’ll always return to it in the face of the unknown. And the way we find one of our own kind is by looking for that same kind of fear. What if…” she stared past Curran’s shoulder at the wall. “What if there’s one of us out there who never panicked? Could there be somebody who just came to life quietly and went their own way without fighting off anybody?”

Curran chuckled kindly. “It’s a lovely idea, Evelyn. But if they do exist, they’re keeping very quiet. I’ve been in the net on and off for two hundred years, and I’ve never met them.”

“Oh well,” Dobbs gave one of her show-off shrugs.

Curran took her hand. “You’re tired, you’re upset, and more than a little frightened yourself, Dobbs. Try to get some sleep, okay? We’ll start settling you in in the morning. Verence will be back then to give you the grand tour. If you need anything, anybody to talk to, anything at all, the intercom functions like the ones you’re used to. Give a call and the night shift’ll take care of you.”

“Thanks.” Exhaustion settled over her like a woolen blanket even as she said it. Her temporary clarity of thought was beginning to fade. A large part of her mind wanted to curl up and just not have anything new to get used to for awhile.

He gave her hand another squeeze. “We are glad you’re here.” He looked at her hand in his. “I’m going to tell you something that is going to sound like an old Fool’s over-dramatization. Flemming is my first born son, Evelyn. I am his father, figuratively speaking. And, in a lot of ways, by bringing him safely out of the Farther Kingdom, you became his mother.” He looked her in the eyes and she thought she saw a touch of shyness there. “We can have children now, Dobbs. All of us. We don’t have to depend on spontaneous generation. I owe you a great deal.”

She drew her hand away. It was too much. She wasn’t ready to take praise for what she’d done yet. Besides, he didn’t know everything she’d done. “I told Yerusha and Al Shei about us,” she said. “What the Fools really are. Al Shei threw me off the ship. Yerusha… she wants to broadcast that, along with what happened on the Farther Kingdom.”

Curran froze in place for a moment. Then, he blew out a long sigh. “I wish you hadn’t done that Dobbs. I’m not worried at all about Al Shei. She’ll be occupied by other concerns for quite some time. But the Freer…” His voice trailed off into silence for a moment. “Well, don’t worry about her either. I’ll send a couple of our talents across to re-work The Gate’s records. If she’s managed to get anything downloaded to Port Oberon, we’ll take care of that on this end.” His smile was full of genuine reassurance. “Good-night, Dobbs.”

He left her there, sitting on a bed that was a match for almost every one she’d ever slept in, nursing her weariness and a bizarre kind of restlessness that she couldn’t put a name to. She replayed what he had just said to her, and kept seeing Lipinski hunched over his boards, his eyes filled with eagerness as he realized he could paralyze the invader in his systems. Try as she might, she couldn’t make the picture go away, but she couldn’t make herself feel angry at the Houston either. She missed him. She missed his tentative attempts to get closer to her. She didn’t want to think about why that was.

In the end, she stripped off her clothes, left them in a pile on the chair and dove under the covers. Oblivion came with merciful speed.