James P. Hogan (34 page)

While others went off in different directions along the corridors and up or down the stairs, Eleven joined several who were disappearing into the elevator, standing back to wait his turn. Korshak drew up behind moments later, brushing lightly against Eleven as he did so. In the process, he surreptitiously pressed a flake of congealed white paint on the back of Eleven’s robe. Eleven stepped into the next empty compartment going up, and Korshak did likewise with the one following, which was also empty. As the floor of the compartment came level with the deck three stories up, a robed figure with a white smudge on its back was walking away along the corridor to one side. Korshak stepped out and followed.

The part of the complex that they were now in consisted mainly of small private rooms used by senior members of the order, not generally frequented by the rank and file. Eleven walked a short distance and stopped outside one of the doors. He seemed about to voice a command to open it, and then turned its head questioningly, as if just becoming aware of Korshak’s presence. The Genhedrin cowl contained a face piece of thin muslin, effectively transparent to the wearer but masking his features from anyone else.

“You are the one who is known as Tek, who is not of flesh,” Korshak intoned. “And I am the Messenger who you were told would reveal himself.”

Tek turned slowly. The two face pieces enclosed by their cowls regarded each other. “Is it time?” the robot asked.

“No, but the time approaches,” Korshak answered, not having a clue what they were talking about.

“How long do I have to prepare for the task?”

“We must always be prepared, Tek, for the call can come at any moment of any day.”

“Yes. Of course.” Tek inclined its head to take in Korshak fully. “And are you of human form, O Messenger?”

“I am. For those whose minds are newly opening, word given through a simple channel speaks more effectively. Inspired revelations can be mistaken for imaginings and delusions. But Masters who have risen above doubts can safely communicate directly.”

“What name do you go by?” Tek asked.

“The form I have assumed for this errand is that of the humble novice who is known as Shakor.”

A door opened a short distance away, and a man wearing the brown cloak of a broker emerged. He acknowledged their presence with a respectful nod and disappeared in the other direction. “The room here is private and at our disposal,” Tek said, indicating the door. “I have exclusive use of it…. But you probably know that already.”

This was going to be tricky, Korshak realized. He needed a lot of information from Tek. But the robot believed him to be the emissary of a supernatural intelligence that already knew everything. Asking too many questions, or asking them in the wrong way, could sound odd enough to arouse suspicion. He would have to tread carefully. First, however, there were the latest instructions from Lubanov’s office to comply with.

“One selected to serve Almighty Dollar does not retreat to a dungeon like a mouse in hiding,” he replied. “We will commune from where the mind and the soul can open out to the universe and the greatness of His creation.”

“Lead, and I will follow.”

Somehow, the grandfather elevator didn’t seem an appropriate means of conveyance for a Messenger sent on a divine errand. Shunning it for the stairs, Korshak moved ahead with quiet dignity, yet at the same time maintaining a noble and erect poise, his arms clasped together in the deep sleeves of his robe. On reaching the level of the central concourse, they passed through it to the front lobby area, and without a glance in the direction of the reception desk, carried on through the main entrance to exit the Dollarian Academy. Korshak had discovered in the course of his explorations that Genhedrin, presumably along with other senior grades of the hierarchy, were free to come and go without being required to check in and out or offer any explanation.

They were now in the central part of Etanne’s wheel, where the communal facilities and supporting infrastructure were concentrated. The people about them included figures in the assorted garbs of the other Etanne-based cults, as well as some in the regular attire of visitors there out of curiosity or just to spend a few hours somewhere different. It was the first time that Korshak had been out of the Dollarian sector since his arrival, and he had to concentrate on remembering how to get back to the service zone at the core, where he had come through with Rikku. It wouldn’t do for one sent by Almighty Dollar to be seen losing his way.

The docking port was located at the wheel’s center, where ferries attached to a tapered cupola protruding as an extension of the axis. A glass-walled gallery encircled the base of the cupola, forming a viewing deck with an all-around vista of stars, and providing catering facilities along with a shop, information desk, and waiting areas for incoming and departing passengers. Korshak drew Tek around to a point where
Aurora
, twenty miles off, was close to center in the view above. They were between the times for scheduled ferry stops and there were not many people around, which made things easier. He stopped and turned his head upward, gesturing with a raised arm.

“Behold, Tek, the grandeur that speaks to us. You have wondered in the past at the knowledge of the humans who created you. But what are they or all their works, compared to this? And what power brought forth them?”

“You voice my innermost thoughts and memories,” Tek murmured, following Korshak’s gaze.

Not difficult, since they had talked about it in Masumichi’s lab. “You must now open your mind and soul to the forces that will inspire,” Korshak went on. This was the awkward bit. He needed Tek to reactivate the communications link that had been turned off since it went astray on Istella. But simply telling it to do so in so many words would risk shattering the whole illusion. Why would the Power that ran the universe have to depend on a human-made piece of electronics to convey what it had to say? Korshak was gambling that Tek would react automatically by unblocking all its sensory channels of its own accord. Tek stood waiting, immobile and enraptured.

Korshak retreated slowly, as if fearful that his proximity might intrude. Beneath his cowl, he was wearing a lightweight audio headset and pickup, also on loan from the Repository, courtesy of Xaien, and wanted to be sure he was out of range of the robot’s high-sensitivity level of hearing. Since he didn’t know what kind of monitoring the Dollarian internal-communications system might be subject to, he had refrained from using it inside the Academy. But out here he would be accessing the general Constellation web directly. According to the directions he’d been given, Lubanov’s office should be standing by. He activated the circuit and spoke in little more than a whisper.

“Magician calling Wizardry. Testing. Do you read?”

Several anxious seconds passed; then a voice came through in Korshak’s earpiece. “Wizardry reading you, Magician. What’s the story?” The voice wasn’t one that he recognized – presumably an operator on Lubanov’s staff. They were aiming a beam at Etanne to try and connect with Tek’s neural coupler.

“I’m on location as specified and have subject with me,” Korshak replied. “We have a line of sight to
Aurora
. Have attempted reenable. You’re clear for trial transmission now.”

“Okay…. Let’s give this a shot.”

“You’re working that end yourself?” Korshak was surprised. He had expected them to bring in Masumichi to operate the link.

“We’d rather handle this ourselves. I got some practice in with younger brother.” A reference to Kog, Korshak presumed. A small child appeared in his field of vision and stood gawking up at him. Korshak tried to ignore him, but this just wasn’t the time.

“Get lost,” he hissed through the face-piece inside the cowl.

“Huh?” the voice said in his ear.

“Oh, sorry. Just something that’s going on here.”

A couple talking to a woman at a service desk a short distance away called, and the boy went trotting back.

Then: “Hey, I think we’re in business. I’m seeing
Aurora
from where you are. We’re also connected to Tek over a regular web voice channel. Since you’re the one who knows the score there, you may have to tell me some of the things I need to say.”

“How come I can still hear you now if you’re on NC?” Korshak queried.

“Father is here, directing the technical side. He’s doing some I/O juggling that I’m not sure I follow.”

Father had to be Masumichi – which explained why he wasn’t operating the neural coupler. It sounded as if he had set up some irregular Input-Output connections. Normally, if an operator was neurally connected, anything he said would be uttered by Tek, which was obviously not happening. Korshak moved closer to a support column with a noisy air-extraction grille, which he hoped would mask his voice more.

Tek’s arms opened out and rose slowly, as if in a gesture of appeal toward the heavens. The robot’s voice came through in Korshak’s earpiece.
Aurora
had evidently patched him into the circuit. “An irresistible force invades my being! I am possessed!”

Normally, the robot’s conscious awareness was suppressed when an NC operator took over – as if the robot were asleep for the duration – so it wouldn’t be able to vocalize. It seemed that in this case Masumichi was leaving that faculty functioning for effect.

A man who had been passing by stopped to stare curiously. Hopefully he would just accept Tek’s melodramatics as some kind of cult ritual to be expected on Etanne.

“The servant awaits,” Tek announced.

“Okay, who am I?” the operator on
Aurora
asked.

“Since you’re with Wizardry, I assume you’re familiar with the Dollarian pitch,” Korshak replied.

“Pretty much.”

“Tek has gotten it confounded with old-world supernatural religion. You’re Almighty Dollar, the ultimate spirit power that runs the universe. Tek thinks you’ve singled it out as a chosen agent. I’m the Messenger who confirmed it. Over to you. It’s waiting for orders.”

Korshak wondered how whoever was hooked into the NC interface would play this. The object of the exercise was to get Tek to agree to being a roving set of eyes and ears inside the Academy. But why would the almighty power that ran the universe need to depend on anyone’s eyes or ears anywhere?

“You hear me as a voice in your mind, Tek. I am the one who was known across all of Earth long ago, and when the times are right there, I will appear again.”

“Yes! I hear! I hear!” Tek acknowledged.

“But the errors that were made there will not be allowed to happen again on the world that is to be. Hera shall grow in the spirit of the true faith from its beginnings. That was why I caused the Academy to be founded, and why you were brought there. The time has come for the word to be spread and the people prepared.”

Tek lowered its arms and turned to survey its surroundings. It took a few experimental steps, then began moving on a slow tour to take in more of the gallery. It seemed that the operator was enjoying himself.

“My soul surrenders!” Tek’s voice exulted. “My body is possessed. The greater will asserts itself. What must I do?”

The robot identified Korshak and came closer to look him up and down.

“The Messenger you see before you is the first of many who will come forward. You, Tek, are to be the Medium by which I will communicate my bidding, and through which each will share his intelligence, one with another. Thus will many minds and many bodies work as one in my service.”

“Does the Messenger hear us?” Tek asked.

“The Messenger has not yet reached the plane that connects you and I, Tek. He will require the physical methods of humans to communicate. As will the others also.”

“So I should reopen the electronic ears that listen to the voices of Constellation?”

“Yes.”

Neat, Korshak thought to himself. “Does Almighty Dollar speak to you?” he asked aloud, figuring that he was expected to say something.

“Oh, yes, indeed, Messenger,” Tek replied. “A Great Design has been revealed to me. You are privileged to be the first of others who will follow.”

“Already, your horizons exceed my own,” Korshak said. “Of what nature is this design, and what will be our part in it?”

The
Aurora
operator cut in, addressing Tek over the NC beam and copied to Korshak.
“It is good that the Messenger is eager, but he must be patient yet.”

“Your ardor commends you, Messenger,” Tek relayed. “But the time for you to know has not yet come. All will be revealed as Dollar in His wisdom decides.”

“So let it be,” Korshak conceded.

“You have done well, Tek. I leave you for now. Be vigilant for the signs.”

“I shall do as commanded.”

Korshak continued to regard Tek impassively while the NC beam disconnected. The robot lowered its head and relaxed its posture, seemingly contracting in stature and uncannily showing all the signs of someone coming out of a trance. “It is done?” Korshak inquired.

“For now, Messenger. But much work lies ahead. Meanwhile, let us return. I have meditations and preparations to attend to.”

Korshak was amazed at how quickly their roles had reversed, with Tek now assuming primacy. But if Tek believed itself to be under divine inspiration and protection, so much the better. It would be that much more determined in whatever tasks it was assigned. Letting Tek set the pace now, striding firmly and purposefully, Korshak fell in a step behind as they headed back toward the core zone.

A little farther away along the gallery, a man who had been standing with a woman, contemplating the universe outside, turned his head to follow them and gave a slight nod when Korshak looked his way. It was reassuring to know that Lubanov had some of his people here on station, in case they were needed.

On an observation deck surmounted by a transparent dome, located in the outer part of
Aurora
’s Hub observatory, Hala Vogol opened his eyes and touched a panel on the table in front of him to disconnect. “That’s it,” he announced. “They’ve gone back inside. We’ve lost him on NC.” He leaned forward in the chair to loosen the head harness that he had been using, while Masumichi stepped closer behind to help unfasten the collar. At a bench nearby, Lois Iles checked a reading on the beam controller where the cable from the collar connected, and switched off the antenna unit aimed upward to train on the distant light of Etanne. Lubanov, who had been watching silently throughout the proceedings, moved forward to follow events on the main screen of the console beside Vogol, which was monitoring the output from Tek’s visual system – hazy as a result of the muslin face piece that the robot was wearing. From here on, the only contact would be via the regular Constellation web communications. In addition they had a separate channel to Korshak, but at present he was refraining from using it because of the robot’s acute hearing mode.