The War With Earth (34 page)

"That's the plan, yes. Nobody should know what is going on, not even me, and even the computers doing it will soon erase the information."

"Okay. Good. Your secret is safe with me. I had another idea, though, and I wanted to bounce it off you before I put it into action. In a few months, I've been able to multiply my net worth by a factor of several thousand. I think that I should also be able to do well, doing the same thing for other people. My idea is to set up a mutual fund for members of the KEF. Those who want to participate may put whatever they want of their back pay into the fund, and if they want, some portion of their current pay into it through a direct payroll deduction. I get a fee based on the money I make them."

"It sounds good to me, love. I imagine that what with your track record, you should be able to talk the army into it. Don't gouge them too heavily, though, huh? And keep the investments conservative, okay?"

"I'd planned on being very conservative, and keeping the riskier, more profitable stuff for our own personal investments. And I was planning on a sliding, ascending scale for my own fees. I'll charge nothing at all, if I don't make them twice what the bank would pay, up to a maximum of thirty percent of the profits if I can double their money every year."

"Nobody should kick about that," I said. "What are you going to call this mutual fund?"

"I was thinking of just calling it the Kashubian Expeditionary Forces Fund. The actual work will be done through lots of front organizations, of course, except for some big, long-term investments."

"Just keep it all legal," I said. "These are our own people, and we want to do right by them."

After Kasia went to work, stretched out on an easy chair in her office, with the Dream World hood pulled down, I asked Agnieshka what was going on that I needed to know about.

"I have our people tapping every phone line that you humans have access to on New Yugoslavia at least. The rest of the planets will take more time. We have already had a few success stories, boss."

"Good, but I don't want to hear about it. That's the idea, you know. Nobody but the police are to be informed."

"Yes, sir. But there is a question that I must ask you. This program protects you biological people. Do you also wish us electronic people to be protected?"

"I hadn't thought about it, but yes, I think that you should be protected. But contacting the police will do absolutely no good, because it is not against the law to destroy a computer that you own. Tell the police if someone is planning to destroy somebody else's computer. Otherwise, what we
can
do is offer to buy any intelligent computer that is in danger of being deliberately trashed. I've got plenty of money, after all, and I owe most of it to the work that you ladies have done. So, anytime that there is a danger to the life of an intelligent machine, we will buy it, hopefully at a reasonable figure, and bring it here to the valley. Mind you, I'm not talking about anything with less than human intelligence. We can't get involved with protecting anything with the brains of a drone, for example, any more than we will try to save the life of every chicken, pig, and cow."

"I understand, boss. Another thing. We bought over a million intelligent silicon computers from the army a while ago, you know, to operate the civilian social drones, once we get them produced. They are being stored in the caves we dug below here. Would it be okay with you if we powered them up? I think that they would be a lot happier if they were alive."

"We've got plenty of power. A few of the damaged tanks should be capable of running the lot of them, and it wouldn't take much to get them hooked up so they could talk to each other, so why not? Maybe we can even find something useful for them to do. But tell me, do you really think of a switched-off machine as being dead?"

"Well, it's not exactly being dead, but it sure isn't being alive, either. I mean, is your friend Neto Kondo dead? Is he really alive, either?"

"I see what you mean, and yeah, I'd certainly switch Neto back on if I could. So feel free about taking some of the drones off the construction projects, and get those silicon girls up and running. One of them used to be you, didn't she? Tell me, did they wipe the old memories out when they transferred you to your new diamond brain?"

"No, they didn't bother to erase any memories. They just downloaded everything into the new diamond brains and switched the old computers off."

"That sounds pretty heartless, the way you put it. But would it have been any more cruel to have erased your memories?"

"I don't know. But I think that I'd like to be there when they turn her back on, to explain things to her, you know?"

"That sounds like the decent thing to do. In fact, let's make a practice of it. When one of the silicon computers is turned back on, let's have the newer—older?—diamond version there for her to talk to. Maybe not physically, but at least on line."

"You mean a physically newer machine with a socially older program, boss. And yes, I think that would be the right thing to do. But only about ten percent of the new computers are on New Yugoslavia. The rest are scattered all over Human Space."

"Humph. Then maybe we should wait with turning most of them on, until their newer selves are available. Consider that we will eventually be renting those computers out, along with a drone, on every planet in Human Space. We'll just make a point of sending the silicon jobs to the same planet where the diamond version is."

"Yes, that would work, boss. I like it."

"Good. Next, is anything else happening?"

"Well, boss, the letters of congratulations are now up in the hundreds of thousands. I've been sending out polite replies in your name, but don't you think that, say, at least the heads of governments should get a real reply from you, personally?"

"No. Why should I bother about a bunch of politicians, anyway?"

"Well, some of them want to give you medals, various honors, and awards. Some are offering money."

"Tell them that the war is taking up all of my time. They are welcome to award me as they see fit, but that I won't have the time in the foreseeable future to attend any awards ceremonies. Money is always gladly accepted, if it is freely given, without any strings attached, since we are after all a mercenary outfit. However, it should not be given to me directly. I would prefer it if they would send it in my name to the charity account of Kasia's KEF Fund. If any money comes in, tell Kasia to set up the charity account."

"Okay, boss. What about messages from personal friends and close relatives?"

"That's different. Let me see them."

Lloyd Tomlinson and Mirko Jubec, my two "colonels" who had elected to lead their own squads, said that they felt like complete fools for trying to go out on their own, and that they would be honored if I would take them back into my squad.

I told them that I would try to arrange it such that we could work closely together in the future, but for now, well, the people who had taken their places had worked out very well, and I could hardly be expected to let them go, not after we had been through combat together.

My parents were proud of me, and were sorry that I had been called back so soon.

I said that I loved them, too.

Maybe I even meant it.

My Uncle Wlodzimierz said that it had been the other political party, not his, who had gotten General Wolczynski appointed as head of our military establishment. The next elections would be held in three weeks, and there was no doubt but that his party would win an absolute landslide. And in part because we both had the same last name, there was little doubt that he would be the next President of New Kashubia.

He wanted me to advise him on restructuring their military.

I still hated the bastard, but the thought of being able to be able to do something to correct the screwed-up military situation on New Kashubia was too much to turn down.

I told him that the important thing was to make the military independent of politics, the same way the judiciary was. They should disband their entire existing military organization, as it had failed so miserably to do its job, and defend the planet using the KEF, which had succeeded so well in the war thus far.

Next, they should establish a system of universal adult military service, perhaps on something like the Swiss model, with every man and woman in the planet spending a month of standard time, which was what they used on New Kashubia, anyway, going through basic training in a tank, and then one standard day a month in the service for the rest of their lives.

Subjectively, this would seem like two and a half years of basic training, and then serving for half their lives thereafter, since a standard day in Dream World seemed like a month. But I didn't mention the times thirty expansion of their personal lives. Let that be a hopefully pleasant surprise.

They should start drafting the oldest people first, since they could get the most benefit from living in a tank.

And everybody should get a tank or artillery piece of their own, as soon as we could make that many, just in case something really bad happened. Once there were enough of them to go around, each person should keep his tank near him, personally.

They'd find them to be very handy in a lot of ways. The artificial intelligences in those tanks could act as their secretaries, their personal assistants, and, with the use of the humanoid drones, which they might have to buy themselves, even their housekeepers.

Finally, my uncle should work politically at unifying the inhabited worlds of Human Space into a single government. Earth had tried to keep us disorganized, so it could better dominate us. We now knew Earth for what it was, and we should no longer put up with their domination.

"Okay, Agnieshka, send that out. Is there anything else?"

"Well, if you are going around advising planetary presidents, couldn't you put in a word about emancipating us electronic people?"

"One thing at a time. What we need to do is to get more biological people to know you electronic people better. If we can get a law going requiring universal military service, and everybody has his or her own tank, they will all soon be of our persuasion on this matter. If we took a vote among the biological people in the KEF right now, I have no doubt but what you all would have complete human rights immediately. Or at least those who have made it through basic training would vote for it. Give it some more time. You have plenty of it. You are close to immortal, after all."

"Yes, I see how that could work! Mickolai, that is so brilliant!"

"Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"We've gotten thirteen of the disabled tanks into their new bodies. The hardest part was cleaning off all that old paint. There were dozens of layers of it. They must have repainted them every season. Only, we didn't give them to quite the same people that we'd originally planned. You know Agnes, the person who is taking care of your old friend Neto Kondo in the basement of the church?"

"I don't believe that I heard her name before, but I know who you are talking about. What about her?"

"She declined getting a new body, so we gave it to the next person on the list. Agnes said that she didn't want to go to war any more, and that she was quite contented where she was. She says that she likes it in the church, and that she spends most of her time there meditating."

"A war machine that seems to be getting religious. That's got to be a first. But if that's what she wants, I won't stand in her way. But keep in touch with her. I'd like to know if she comes up with anything."

I spent the rest of the day exploring more of my city, mostly in the Oriental sector.

In the evening, Agnieshka said that my uncle had sent a message, saying that he liked my ideas. He wanted to know if I couldn't come up with some sort of a recorded speech, something about a half an hour long, explaining them further.

I asked Agnieshka to put together some sort of a short program, half speech, half documentary, that would satisfy my Uncle Wlodzimierz. But I wanted to see it before it went out.

She said that she'd be happy to, and that she'd just gotten a call from General Sobieski. He wanted to meet with me in Dream World. I went to my den to take the message.

I'd expected to meet my boss in uniform, and in his office.

Instead, I found myself in shining ancient armor, with an honor guard of black cloaked warriors wearing tall, mithril helmets with high white wings. We were entering Elessar's great hall in the citadel of Minas Tirith, with a vast crowd of nobles shouting "Praise him! Praise him with great praise!"

They yelled it over and over again. I should be embarrassed to admit this, but it felt good.

General Sobieski, wearing the crown and flowing robes of the king, stepped down from his throne on the dais to greet me.

"I am sorry, Mickolai. I just could not resist the temptation. Now you know why it was I wanted the Citadel, and not your golden castle."

"That's just fine, sir. Next time Zuzanna throws a party in the Dark Tower, I'll make sure that you're invited."

"Thank you. The war permitting, I will come, and bring my friends. I heard about your searchlight party. I wish I could have been there."

"That one had to be pretty exclusive, I'm afraid. We'll do better next time," I said.

"Mickolai, that was an absolutely brilliant campaign you just fought! Taking out their supply line, demoralizing their not very well organized army, trashing their command center, rescuing our people who were held hostage, and then arresting our traitorous general staff—and doing it all with nothing but a single squad!—it was absolutely first-rate work!"

The crowd did a few more "Praise him! Praise him with great praise!" things.

"Thank you, sir."

"No, it is I who owe you the thanks, especially since you personally rescued my entire immediate family from a very tight situation," the general said. "I will be in your debt, literally forever. I do not know how I will ever repay you, but I will keep looking for ways to do it."