Fall of the White Ship Avatar (43 page)

Constance's main thrill was pain, and he knew enough about her to be scared. Further along the table the Nonpareil was staring raw death at her.

"Enough."

That one word from Captain Softcoygne Dincrist, Heart's father, was enough to cut through the murmuring at the table and end the sideshow. Constance subsided, running one talon along Baron Mason's chair sullenly, as everyone looked to Dincrist. His place became the head of the table with his presence, since Higgins was seated. "We have business at hand." He rapped the table with a large signet ring that carried his family crest.

The Srillan who was seated, the shareholder, slapped paws together, sleepy-eyed but animated. His silver-black pelt was beginning to show the russet frosting of old age.

"Indeed! Here at last we'll have one of the shortest board meetings on record!" His Terranglish wasn't bad but, as with all his species, it was like listening to somebody talking through a rolled-up rug.

Alacrity put the arm on a passing robo for a refill. Dincrist gave a death's-head grin. "Yes, a very succinct meeting. Now: the usual agenda is set aside. The question before us is: shall a research team as specified in the proposal addendum be constituted as described to isolate from the White Ship's AI's the basis of this apparent communication with the Heavysets and render a detailed report to my committee?

"Now, speaking for my group, I cast a majority vote
aye,
in advance. Debate will be limited to five minutes, and then—
Fitzhugh! Stop that
!"

Alacrity was rapping his knuckles on the robo who'd given him his drinks. "Hey! Paracelsus! How about file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20krui...%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (219 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:14

[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR

a readout on that? The majority, I mean?"

The automaton said in the Ship's voice, "Impossible to compute until you declare your preference, Shareholder Fitzhugh."

Dincrist's snowy brows lowered. "What's this? That young whoreson votes only one share!"

"As of sixteen thirteen Ship time, this date," the robo corrected in the virgin-priestess voice, "Alacrity Fitzhugh holds voting power over three hundred forty thousand and one shares."

There were open mouths all around except for Floyt. Floyt reached around the chair and whapped Alacrity's shoulder triumphantly. Heart rayed him with a smile that made his whole life worthwhile.

Alacrity raised the pisco sour. "Some of us are born to greatness; others don't see anything wrong with swiping it."

"What's that one share for?" Wulf leaned out over the table to ask. "Luck?"

"To grow an inch," Alacrity said, leering at Heart. He turned back to her father.

"Anyway, I vote against this motion, or resolution, or whatever you want to call it. Motion denied, Paracelsus?"

"Motion rejected by a vote of one million four hundred seventy-nine thousand four hundred twenty-five shares in favor to one million five hundred twenty thousand five hundred seventy-five opposed."

Dincrist shook a big, browned, very impressive fist. "This is a fraud! He's rigged the computers somehow!" He pointed at Alacrity. "You're not going to cheat me again!"

Mason had risen and walked off to one side of Dincrist's chair, the Srillan shareholder waddling to the other, both of them calming him. Constance drew slow breaths, nostrils flared, pursing her lips at Alacrity. Heart's dimples appeared first, then her full smile was directed his way as Alacrity felt a distinct increase in his vitamin D level.

"This is an important vote," Baron Mason said after a quick, whispered conference with Dincrist. He glared around the table. "The bulk of the information the Ship used in contacting the Heavysets came from Captain Dincrist's sources, and he has the right to litigate to deny you access to the final product!

And then no one profits.

"Now then: what I propose is that our faction withdraw from the Vale for a few minutes—say, five. We will caucus, and you here may reconsider the matter among yourselves."

What must it have taken to make these two sworn enemies allies?
Floyt wondered.

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[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR

Mason moved around the table as the other Old Guard members rose to follow along with their escorts.

Alacrity saw with surprise that the baron was coming his way.

Floyt wasn't sure what to do, but Alacrity gave him a nod, so he made way. Any transgression would be picked up by the Ship herself and dealt with, and Alacrity knew Mason was smart enough to be well aware of that. Alacrity rose and met the baron partway though, to have some maneuvering room just in case. Others there did their best to appear not to be staring.

"You have something that belongs to me," the baron whispered harshly, glaring.

"Your proteus, you mean?" Alacrity smiled innocently. "Well, I'll tell you, now, it looked like you were going to use it to get me and the others blasted as soon as you could get free of that riot, and it looked sort of valuable, so I just took it for safekeeping."

"
Don't toy with me, you little nobody
! That instrument is of no value to you, and you'll soon have all the trouble you can handle and more if you don't start using common sense, believe me! Now, what have you done with that proteus?"

"Oh," Alacrity said, pretending Mason's threats hadn't rattled him, "why don't we talk about that a little later? And why don't we also talk about how you're going to vote your shares for the rest of this meeting?"

Baron Mason's eyes went wide, but Dincrist called out to him, Constance was coming nearer, and the rest of the Old Guard had already withdrawn. Nodding balefully, Mason went, flanked by Constance, to join Dincrist. They followed their allies up the path.

Alacrity walked back to his place as murmured side exchanges began to die away. After a short silence, Sibyl Higgins put the question, "I believe I'm safe in saying none of us cares to change his or her vote?"

Nobody contradicted her.

"Then I see no reason to prolong—" Higgins had just begun when hatches boomed closed, reverberating, and a voice filled the Vale. It was the first time any of them had heard the Ship speak with any voice but her own; it was nothing short of terrifying that it was the voice of Dincrist.

"Now hear this! You people in there have only one thing to consider: the next vote is going to be unanimous, and so you will either reverse your position or you'll die."

Everybody at the table was talking at once. Alacrity was the first one to his feet, moving to grab the Nonpareil's hand and race off up the moon-garden path by which he'd arrived, heading for the only hatch whose location he was sure of, making sure Floyt was close behind. The balance of the New Faction bolted after.

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[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR

But the hatch was secured and wouldn't open. Others gathered behind as Alacrity and Floyt struggled with it. It took only a minute or so to accept that it wasn't going to budge. There were no tool lockers or equipment stations in the Vale, no airlocks, or spacesuits to use even if there had been.

The Ship herself was supposed to be final arbiter of rules, the failsafe insurance that the laws laid down by her founders would be abided by, the final safety factor in the system. The Ship was supposed to see to it that this sort of thing couldn't happen, and she always had. But now, somehow, she was compromised, at least in part, and the New Faction was boxed.

"Was there anything about this kind of tactic in the data you obtained from your father?" Wulf asked Heart.

She shook her head, the heavy locks swinging. "Absolutely nothing."

"You know your situation," Dincrist's voice boomed at them. "But there are … those among you whom I

—we—would rather spare. So then: change your vote. Tell the Ship! And we continue with our great endeavor!"

"How can they expect to get away with this?" someone yelled.

"Hell's payroll!" Wulf's deep voice answered. "If they get the Ship to let them dig out the Heavyset-contact secrets, they'll be able to write their own ticket!"

"Um, why doesn't the Ship stop them, Ho?" Alacrity muttered to Floyt. "She kept 'em from bringing in guns, or they wouldn't've had to try this lock-in stuff." He didn't dwell on what would happen if the Ship leeched away the Vale's air supply.

"I
told
you, Alacrity: the Ship's personality isn't one AI. It's an interlocking constellation. It's gotten very big and I think it may be starting to break down with this Heavyset business. And the subparts, well, they
leak.
Back and forth. And I don't have the access to get us out of here. The left hand doesn't know what the right hand's doing."

"Pay attention," Dincrist said resoundingly. "I am going to begin bleeding the air from the Vale. You have perhaps half an hour. The decision rests with you."

"He couldn't have complete control of the Ship," Wulf mused, fingers toying with the thick ringlets of his beard, "or he wouldn't need a majority vote."

The immediate New Faction idea was a motion, passed unanimously, that the Ship open the hatch. But somehow in his poking and tampering, Dincrist had found a way to nullify that.

The next decision came from Sibyl Higgins. "I don't know what this will come to, but Dincrist and the file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20krui...%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (222 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:14

[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR

others
have
us. Human life is sacred, and so I say that we concede."

"What about the human lives of people who're gonna have to live under Dincrist and his gang, and die under them?" Alacrity drawled.

She dealt him a wintry look. "Our deaths will not affect that one way or the other, it appears. Why?"

"Just running a spine check, as it turns out." Alacrity smirked. He looked around, spotted the nearest Ship pickup, called to it.

"Shareholder Alacrity Fitzhugh. Identify."

"Shareholder Alacrity Fitzhugh, confirmed," the Ship's voice said.

"Sampson Option. Menu."

"Sampson Option menu, aye! Menu: Option One: event, mutiny. Option two: event, piracy. Option three: event, incontrovertible infestation. Option—"

"Stop!" Alacrity drew a breath. "Sampson Option three: event, incontrovertible infestation. Run it."

"Sampson Option three: event, incontrovertible infestation, running, aye!"

People were looking at each other with eyes the size of pingpong balls, Floyt included. There was no real sense of movement, but everybody was aware of the change in the starfield overhead and looked up to see that the Ship was changing course. The crystal dome polarized for a moment as Spica swung into view and then past, the Ship realigning herself.

"Alacrity, wouldn't you like to tell us what Sampson Option three is?" Floyt hinted quietly.

"Something the Founders put in, my grandparents and the others who sat right at that same table in that same Vale down there, back when the Ship was just a dream! Contingency plans, and all that. I didn't know it was in there any more until I took over Hecate's shares; her access was linked to the Sampson Option. I guess all other accesses were expunged."

He pointed up to the dome. The glow of Spica, coming from forward, lit motes in the upper air.

"Anyway, you can see for yourself, can't you? We're heading into Spica. Ultimate decontamination. And nothing gets into the Ship now, and nothing gets out. And she'll evade or repel rescue attempts, even presuming somebody gives that a try."

"And if Dincrist decides you're bluffing?" Higgins asked coldly.

"Then he finds out I'm not."

"Query!" Heart spoke up to the Ship. "Estimated time of destruction?"

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[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR

The Ship voice came. "Presuming no contact with stellar prominence activity, entry into Spican photosphere in thirty-four minutes. Destruction of this vessel within six minutes of that time, plus or minus estimated twenty-five percent." The Ship sounded above it all.

Alacrity whistled. "We're really movin'!" To the pickup he said, "Put that out over the PA." The Ship's death sentence echoed across the Vale.

The furred-stork humanoid, Clizzixx, click-spoke. Its translator device rendered, "This does not seem sensible."

"Amen, brother," Alacrity shot back.

The Nonpareil's expression was all misgiving. "Alacrity, my father will never give in. Remember the Regatta, when he wouldn't divert course to finish us off because he wanted to win? Well, he never stops once he's committed to something!"

Alacrity, a little surprised, studied her. "And you think I do?"

"It's getting hotter in here," somebody quavered.

"Only 'cause you're sweating," Alacrity said, inspecting the hatch again. "The heat differential's so huge, passing it along to the interior of the Ship wouldn't make much difference. The Ship'll keep us cool pretty much until she's done for."
And I'll kill us all before I give up this Ship! She belongs to my family;
she belongs to
me!

"Let's get something to eat in the meantime; I'm starved," he lied. He started back down the path, leaving a babble of argument behind him. Floyt dashed to catch up. Heart was neck and neck, fast in chiming spike heels.

"When do we pass the point of no return?" she asked, falling into step just as Floyt did.

Alacrity shook his head and said slowly, "I'm not sure, and I don't want the Ship putting it out over the PA.
Pheew
! Once we're down by the photosphere, my friends, one good Spican prominence would probably put us out of commission for good."

He got Paracelsus and ordered another pisco sour. Floyt loosened his white bowtie and wing collar; the Nonpareil massaged her temples and tried to think. Maybe it
was
imagination, but Alacrity felt hotter, too.