Rhythm of the Imperium (23 page)

He could only imagine the agonies that ColPUP* must be suffering.

“You … see … ? Only working … for the good … of the ship.”

The shuddering stopped. It had only lasted a few seconds, but that must have felt like years to an LAI.

“It is for the good of the ship,” BrvNEC* said at last. “I issue you a standard apology, ColPUP*.”

“It is accepted,” ColPUP* said. Parsons’s protective pod released him. He breathed deeply.

“Can we take the fireworks up now?” Gorev asked, unable to contain his eagerness.

“Yes. It does no harm to amuse the soft ones,” BrvNEC* said. “Come along.”

The luggage carrier dug the pod out of the niche between the ducts. With Gorev beside it, the big machine carried Parsons out.

Behind them, ColPUP* extended a small manipulation claw of his own and raked the little package into his housing.

“This is going to be great!” Gorev told the cluster of assembled Wichu officers in the food service area.

The luggage carrier tumbled Parsons’s pod roughly into an ejection chamber. The heavy metal door slid shut, and the atmosphere was sucked out. Parsons tucked his face down into the fibers for warmth and oxygenation. Suddenly, he felt a kick. The pod went tumbling out into the void.

A tribute to you, ColPUP
*, he thought,
and for BK-426a
.

Parsons activated the chameleon shell, and threw the intensity all the way up to maximum.

On the
Whiskerchin
, the guests and the officers gazed out at the bursts and cascades of light playing outside the port. They shouted with delight, taking images and vids with their personal recorders. Everyone agreed that it was the most exciting thing that had happened so far on their trip. Even Captain Bedelev managed to crack a smile.

CHAPTER 22

After the incident, which the security operation was careful not to call a riot, I did not see very much of Laine. When I sent affectionate messages to her viewpad and to her cabin screen, her replies showed her with circles under her lovely eyes. In the background, one could hear shrieks and bellows from the Kail. Part of the hull plate behind her was of a different hue than the rest, suggesting that it had been recently replaced.

As Marcel was preparing her meals, I intercepted them now and again, so I could bring them down myself, to spend a moment basking in the sunshine of her regard. A robotic server acted as the actual conveyor of the trays, as Marcel quite rightly did not trust me to carry his creations without risk of spillage, but I accompanied them.

At the door, the guards saluted us. One of them spoke into his collar mic. Within a few seconds, the hatch opened a hand’s span, and Laine peered out Inside, I heard the Kail banging back and forth. A glimpse over Laine’s shoulder proved that the initial sortie had indeed ruined the original furnishings. In place of the handsome circular couch and real-wood table was a plebeian plasteel square on sturdy gray feet and a pair of puffy gray chairs like those in the crew’s common room.

“Oh, thank you!” she said. “That smells delicious. Thank Marcel for me.”

“I certainly will,” I said. “How delightful to see you. May I lay this out for you?”

“Don’t bother with being too formal,” she said, letting us inside. I followed her toward the table. That day, she was dressed in another homespun robe, this one of a combination of cinnamon and ochre arrows and zig-zags. The colors became her, though the pattern practically ate her alive. “I never know when they’re going to grab me and drag me over to interpret a dip in energy, or a change in Proton’s position. It’s all so meaningless and noisy.”

I glanced at her unwelcome cabin-mates. The Kail paid us no attention. They were fixed on the Zang, whose majestic person shone with the benevolence of a kindly grandfather, but one whose mind was clearly elsewhere. For once, Phutes wasn’t bellowing at it. The noises were all coming from the smaller, multi-limbed being, Mrdus. It scuttled from one side of the Zang to another, squeaking and barking. The Kail’s motion was so comical I made a note of it.

“I am sorry I suggested the academic approach, if it has caused you so much trouble.” I was even more sorry that it meant we would not be able to spend any time alone in their absence.

“No,” Laine said. She looked weary, but resolved. The circles I had seen under her eyes were firmly set. I waved to the server to put down the tray and motioned to her to take a seat. “It’s stopped them breaking things. And I think they’re actually getting through to Proton, a little. Its attention has been focused here much more than I expected. I feel like an ancient oracle, pronouncing on meanings where there probably is nothing at all. Ambassador Melarides keeps begging me to help keep them happy. They have promised to meet with her once we reach the platform and really talk about Kail-Imperium relations. I don’t want to spoil that in any way, but the end can’t come a minute too soon for me.”

“Is it that onerous?” I asked, stooping to crouch beside her and taking her hand in mine. She squeezed my fingers.

“Oh, yes! They ask me over and over again what this little thing means, or that little burst of energy! I haven’t had such a grilling since my oral examination when I got my first Ph.D! Uh-oh, here it goes again.”

She had sensed long before I did the sweep of Zang energy that suffused the room. I almost gasped as it slapped me in the face on its way past.

My reaction was nothing compared with that of the Kail. Mrdus fell over backward at the force of it. Sofus and Phutes dashed after the wave, trying to catch up with it. Though I couldn’t swear to it, I thought that it passed through the wall and out again into space. The two Kail smacked into the bulkhead and sat down with a boom! I chortled.

I thought that I was unheard, but I had clearly underestimated the range of hearing of which the Kail were capable. Phutes picked himself up from the deck and stormed toward us.

“You! What are you doing in here?”

I swept him a deep bow. “Just paying a short visit,” I said.

He leaned close, waving his arms angrily at me, though stopping short of actually touching.

“I don’t trust humans any more. Get out!”

I offered him a polite smile.

“Not yet, good sir. I have devised a new performance for you and your siblings,” I said. “I call it the Dance of Hope, in honor of your seeking to confer with the Zang.”

Phutes glared at me out of its flat eyes.

“Will it help make the Zang listen?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I glanced at the silvery image in the corner. It was pointedly not looking at us at that moment. “I doubt it.”

“Then it is useless!”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “It might amuse you. Just watch.” I touched the viewpad on my hip. Brassy music erupted from its speaker. I stood poised, waiting for the downbeat. When it came, I strode forward.

I had been watching the Kail stomping around the ship for days by then. With Madame Deirdre’s help, I had learned to emulate their pace, even working in some purposefully awkward movements, though I tried to convey those in a deliberate fashion, to show that they were part of my artistic evocation. With my shoulders hunched to depict the heaviness and bulk of the Kail, I showed them bursting free from their remote systems, setting forth through a forest of obstructions that they disliked, but were brave in pushing through, in search of the one who held answers for them, the Zang. With waving arms, I did my best to show the power of the Zang surrounding us, drawing in on that center that contained the clumsy, bulky beings that were the Kail.

“Are you mocking us?” Phutes bellowed, wading toward me with his arms waving in exactly the fashion that I had just employed. I stopped short and turned off my music. “You make us look foolish!”

“No, not at all!” I said. “I added Kail-like movements to my dance to honor you!”

“It is no honor. Get out!” By then, his brothers had come up beside him. The largest one loomed over me like a storm cloud full of doom.

“Go! Do not come back again!” He shook a fist at Laine. “Come and tell us what it is doing now!”

Laine touched my hand. “I think you had better leave,” she whispered. “I liked it, anyhow.”

The Kail herded Dr. Derrida toward the corner where the glowing Zang stood. NR-111 hurried after them.

“He only sought to show you respect, Phutes,” she said, both in Imperium Standard and the hoots and whistles of the Kail language. “It was a tribute, not an insult. You must not take it to heart.”

Dejectedly, I slunk toward the door. Nothing had yet satisfied them. I was beginning to believe that nothing ever would. The portal slid open. I waved the servers through. With an apologetic whirring apiece, they rolled over the threshold ahead of me.

A loud squawk erupted behind me. I spun, then leaped aside just in time to avoid being struck by NR-111, who hurtled toward me on her side.

“So sorry!” she called, as she sailed out into the corridor.

CHAPTER 23

I hurried out after her. The guards crossed paths with me, rushing inside the cabin, brandishing their bright orange weapons. The door closed behind me. The servers and I ran to help NR-111 up onto her rollers.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing, Lord Thomas,” she said in a bright tone that I did not for one moment believe in.

“Come now, you can talk to me,” I said. “Is that a new casing?” It was then I noticed the huge dent in the side. One of her lenses was cracked. “I apologize.”

“Oh, don’t, Lord Thomas! It’s all part of the job.”

“It shouldn’t be,” I protested. I glanced at the door, in case it opened again to disgorge angry Kail. “Come over here, out of the line of fire.”

“I had better get back inside,” the translator said, bravely, straightening her stalk. “Dr. Derrida does not speak Kail. They won’t understand her, and that always makes them angry!”

“They’re not really listening to her,” I assured NR-111. “What happened just now?”

The LAI sounded as though she would like to burst into tears, but lacked the necessary anatomy to do so. “Oh, it’s like the Donre all over again! They are violent!”

“Have they threatened Dr. Derrida?” I asked, in alarm. The lens assembly switched from side to side in a very humanlike gesture.

“No, my lord. They don’t make any contact with organic personnel if they can avoid it, but everything else receives physical abuse. I dislike coming within contact range of the Kail, but in order to perform my duties and provide translation services between them and humans, I must be within range to hear voices and see nuances of expression. That puts me very close to their feet and fists. This is my third housing in as many days. I am almost ashamed to report back to Maintenance for replacements.” The lenses drooped. I crouched down to look her in the optical receptors.

“They can’t hurt you physically, can they?”

“Oh, no! But it is dismaying that they blame me for negative news. Dr. Derrida is marvelously patient for a human being.”

“Small wonder, when she travels the universe with a tree stump that never talks with her,” I said. “But why are they so abusive to you?”

“They think that I am betraying them to the humans,” she said. “I am not! I am expected to keep security apprised of where the Kail are at any time. I have to do that aloud. They know that, but every time I do, they lash out.”

“Can’t you do it privately?” I asked. “You must be able to transmit a message to the mainframe.”

She turned the lenses so all of them were facing me. It was a trifle disconcerting.

“Why, no, Lord Thomas,” she said. “My programming has been put inside a firewall so that I can provide translation services and convey the Kail’s wishes, but it is in a closed network. No transmission I make will connect to the mainframe. It’s a matter of security. All systems on the ship are alarmed so that if the Kail interact with them, an alert is sent to the central computer. The captain is concerned that if they corrupt me, the only AI that they are permitted to have contact with, that I will injure the system. It is lonely. I can only speak to my companions by voice and picture. Such means are so
slow
. How do you live with that?”

I spread my hands. “We don’t process information as swiftly as you do,” I said. “We are used to it because this is the way we are.”

The translator seemed shocked. “It is like this for you all the time? You don’t use any speed upgrades? Any advanced picoprocessors?”

“There are upgrades, yes,” I said. “Many, if not most, ordinary people make use of some kind of computer or technical enhancement, but not the Emperor’s family. We of the Imperium line are not permitted to use anything that alters us in any fundamental manner. Apart from a few differences, we are as close to ancient humans as anything you will ever find.”

The focusing aperture in the lenses opened wider.

“That is
most
interesting, Lord Thomas. May I ask you questions about your humanity?”

I bowed deeply to her. “I would be honored, but I am not the most superior specimen of my line.”

“But you are willing to talk,” NR-111 said, forlornly. “Most humans are not.”

“Don’t be put off by that,” I said encouragingly. “Most humans don’t talk with other humans about things that are truly important. Conversation is a current medium. If you want to know what we really think, read our books. They are written by humans who have taken the time to consider a subject and expound upon it.”

“That is an interesting insight,” she said. “I will try. Will you recommend some?”

My mind instantly went blank as to titles. “I will send you a list,” I promised. “And peruse our Infogrid files. Those are the home of immediate reaction, but often more thoughtful than spoken discourse.”

The translator dipped her lenses.

“You are kind, Lord Thomas … You do not find it strange to befriend a non-organic life form?”

“I have always had mechanicals as friends,” I said, with a self-deprecating smile. “You have such wide experiences. I learn a great deal from my correspondents. My oldest LAI friend is over a thousand years old. She runs the food service wall in an elementary school on Carson’s Star 3. She knows how to make over ten thousand flavors of ice cream. Now, how can that not be a valuable acquaintance?”

NR-111 almost sighed. “I wish I could speak to her. What is she like?”

I looked for somewhere to sit down in the corridor. One of the serverbots rolled up and presented me with the broad part of its back. Once I was ensconced, I began to tell stories about my friends.

I am afraid my raconteurism was not a success. NR-111 became restless, turning one or another of its lenses in the direction of the door, or toward the security cameras stationed at various points in the ceiling or the walls. I knew how she must feel. One dealt with loneliness in one’s own fashion.

“I have a question or two of my own,” I said, hoping to break into her thoughts. “I hate to interfere with a worthy purpose, but equally I dislike being snubbed on my own ship—well, that of my cousin the Emperor.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean to ignore you, Lord Thomas!” NR-111 turned back to me, mortified.

I smiled. “And I didn’t mean you,” I assured her. “The Kail. Especially their leader, Phutes. He seems … rather lost.”

“In a way, my lord, I believe you could consider that to be true.”

“How so? Do tell me more. I would like to think I have an open mind, even about someone who considers us their enemies.”

NR-111 sounded thoughtful. “Well, he is far from home. This is a different habitat than he is used to. The atmosphere that makes you comfortable feels bad on his … skin.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Is it skin? When it roils and rumbles like that, and pebbles almost fall off it?”

“Not as humans or other carbon-based life-forms know it, but, yes. You would call it skin.”

“How about you?”

“My sensors are functional, not aesthetic as such.”

I blinked. “He has an aesthetic objection to the atmosphere?”

“Not the atmosphere as such. The moisture conveys certain organic compounds that alight upon it. The quantities are microscopic, but the Kail can feel them. They are disgusted by them, my lord.”

I sat back on my makeshift seat. “Well, between you, me and the light switch, which I hope is not really eavesdropping, they rather disgust me, too,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve met such an uncouth lot since the last time my cousins and I visited—oh, very well, call it what it was—
invaded
a waterfront dive in Ramulthy. But I see what you are telling me. You are undoubtedly the better judge of the truth about these creatures. I will do my best to see that they succeed at their aim. If I can find a way to help the Zang hear their plea, I will. I’m sure it has something to do with their motherworlds. That’s such a quaint and emotion-laden term, isn’t it? Rather beautiful. And Phutes’s own mother has the same name as the planet. That shows me how important it was for him to set foot outside his own system. Very brave. I will keep that in mind, even when they are shoving me out of the way in my own corridor.”

“Yes, sir. That would be something that the diplomatic corps would be very grateful for, sir.”

“I just shudder to think how they are going to clash with my cousins, who are not notably more sensitive than I,” I added. “I will be glad when they return. It’s been a bit quiet around here.”

“Yes,” NR-111 said, sounding even more forlorn. “I am sure you miss them.”

I felt overcome by her sorrow. For me, solitude was as temporary a situation as seeking out another human or LAI. For the translator, she did not know when her isolation would end. I realized that I was a poor substitute for the millions or trillions of correspondents with whom she was capable of communicating, at speeds so blinding I could not imagine them. From the physical vocabulary I had been accumulating since beginning lessons with Madame Deirdre, a framework of sympathy began to take shape in my mind.

I rose to my feet, and picked through the selections of instrumental music in my viewpad. I alighted upon one that was mostly rhythm, with a thready piping of a lone flute that made me think of NR-111’s voice and lonely state. “I have created a dance for you. I hope you will enjoy it.”

With that, I began gliding back and forth across the floor. To indicate her job, I picked up imaginary items from the floor and reshaped them into beautiful flowers, which I presented to one invisible being after another. Each time the music peaked, I set myself to herding invisible cats up and down the corridor. One or another of those occasionally made me recoil in horror, but I set myself back to work.

A burly crewmember in a plum-colored jumpsuit accompanied by a rolling toolbox emerged from one of the nearby lifts at the moment that I cringed at an unseen Kail-cat.

“Are you all right, Lord Thomas?” he asked, peering around to see what had scared me.

“I’m only dancing,” I said, whisking away from him and going into a closed-arm spin to depict the isolation from social input that I was suffering.

“Uh, yes, sure, sir.” The crewmember edged away from me and hastily sidled down the hall.

The interruption did not matter. I had nearly completed my performance. After witnessing a grand explosion, after which the Kail-cats went scattering off into the unknown, I welcomed back all the contacts that I had been missing, gathering them to my chest like a bouquet. I took a deep sniff of that cluster of flowers, and sank to the floor with a beatific smile.

Silence. Not a terribly good sign. I picked myself up and returned to my seat on the serverbot’s back.

“There!” I said. “What did you think?”

“What am I supposed to say?” NR-111 asked me.

“Did you like it?”

“I have no idea. I am not accustomed to having to analyze dance!”

“One doesn’t analyze it, one merely experiences it. I was telling the story of your mission as an assistant to the Kail. It was an attempt to show you how much your efforts are appreciated. I don’t believe anyone knows how much the isolation is telling upon you. I wanted you to know that at least one mere human does care.”

NR-111 looked more forlorn than ever. “I am not accustomed to experiencing dance, either. I am sorry, Lord Thomas. It’s difficult for me to understand symbolism that is outside the realm of my own experience. But it was kind of you to try to cheer me up. I will cope. I will run calculations and clear errant bytes out of my memory banks until this mission is over with and I may reconnect with others of my own kind.”

“That’s the ticket,” I agreed. “I always find that spring cleaning helps clear the cobwebs from my mind.”

A bellow erupted from an audio output grille. I also heard it with my own ears. All three of the Kail emerged from the Zang’s cabin. One of them, Sofus, came stamping over to NR-111, shrieking in a high pitch that threatened to make my ears turn inside out. He followed his brothers toward the lift. NR-111 rolled sadly after it.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. The lens stalk turned back toward me.

“He wants me to set up communication for them with the
Whiskerchin
again,” NR-111 said. “I must go now. Thank you again, Lord Thomas. I appreciate your kindness.”

“I hope it helped,” I said, but the lift door had already closed between us.