No problem. Eden digests over two hundred thousand tonnes of asteroid rock each year in its maw; it is still growing, after all.his mind relayed a mental image of the southern endcap, supplied directly from the integral sensitive cells. right at the hub was the maw; a circular crater lined with tall red-raw spines resembling cilia. the largest spines were arrayed round the rim, pointing inwards and rippling in hour-long undulations, giving the impression that some giant sea anemone was clinging to the shell. the arrangement was an organic version of a lobster pot; chunks of ice and rubble, delivered from jupiter's rings by tugs, were trapped inside. they were being broken down into pebble-sized granules by the slow, unrelenting movement of the spines, and ingested through mouth pores in the polyp.
That was when the process became complex. Sandwiched between the endcap's inner and outer layers were titanic organs; first, enzyme filtration glands which distilled and separated minerals and ores into their constituent compounds. Anything dangerously toxic was vented back out into space through porous sections of the shell. Organic chemicals were fed into a second series of organs where they were combined into nutrient fluids and delivered to the mitosis layer to sustain Eden's growth. Inorganic elements were diverted into deep storage silos buried in the polyp behind the cyberfactory caverns, glittery dry powders filling the cavities like metallic grain.
We have huge surpluses of metals and a host of other minerals, wallace steinbauer said. And they're all available in their purest form. We send the metal powder out to a furnace station to get usable ingots and tubing. The minerals we shove through a small chemical-processing plant.
So you're totally self-sufficient now?i said. my admiration for penny maowkavitz had returned with a vengeance after i viewed the maw and its associated organs. that woman had ingenuity in abundance.
I like to think so. Certainly we'll be able to provide Pallas and Ararat with their own cyberfactories. That's our next big project. Right now we're just ticking over with maintenance and spares for our existing systems.
So a simple pistol is no trouble.
That's right.wallace steinbauer rifled through some boxes at the side of his desk, and pulled out the colt with a triumphant grin. No major problem in putting it together, he said. But then I never thought it would be. We could build you some weapons far more powerful than this if you asked.
I took it from him, testing the weight. It struck me as appallingly primitive; looking from the side the grip jutted almost as though it was an afterthought. There was an eagle emblem on the silicon, its wings stretched wide. Interesting point. If you could build any gun you wanted, why choose a weapon like this, why not something more modern?
I'd suggest your murderer chose it precisely because of its simplicity, wallace steinbauer said. The Colt .45 has been around since the late eighteen-hundreds. Don't let its age fool you, it's an effective weapon, especially for close-range work. And from a strictly mechanical point of view it's a very basic piece of machinery, which means it's easy to fabricate, and highly reliable, especially when made out of these materials. I'd say it was an excellent choice.
But why an exact replica?rolf asked. Surely you can come up with something better using the kind of CAD programs we have these days? My kid designs stuff more complicated than this at school, and he's only nine. In fact why bother with a revolver at all? The chimp was only ever going to be able to fire a single shot.
I can give you a one-word answer, wallace steinbauer said. Testing. The Colt is tried and tested, with two hundred years of successful operation behind it. The murderer knew the components worked. If he had designed his own gun he would need to test it to make absolutely sure it was going to fire when the chimp pulled the trigger. And you can hardly test a gun in Eden.
I handed the pistol over to Rolf. Everyone keeps talking about templates, and original components, i said. Where did they come from? I know any reference library memory core would have video images of a Colt. But where did actual templates come from? How did you make this one?
Wallace Steinbauer scratched the back of his head, looking faintly embarrassed. My division has the templates for quite a few weapons. It's the potential, you see. If the police or the Governor ever really needed heavy duty firepower, like if those Boston bastards turn violent, I could provide you with the relevant hardware within a few hours. Those stun guns and lasers you're issued with are only adequate providing you don't come up against anything more powerful.
And the Colt is one of the templates?i said wearily.
Yes, I'm afraid so. I didn't know myself until your department came to me with this request. It looks like someone back on Earth just downloaded an entire History of Armaments almanac for our reference source.
Who else has accessed the Colt's file?
Wallace Steinbauer grimaced apologetically. There's no record of any access prior to my request. Sorry.
Has your computer been compromised?
I thought it was a secure system, but I suppose it must have been. There are only five people in the division including me who have the authority to access the weapons files anyway. So the murderer must have hacked in; if they have the skill for that, erasing access records wouldn't pose any problem.
I used singular-engagement mode to tell Rolf: We'll need alibis for Steinbauer and the other four who can access the weapons file. Also check to see if any of them ever had any contact with Maowkavitz.
Yes, sir.
What about records for machine time?i asked steinbauer. Do you know when the original pistol's components were fabricated?
Again, nothing, he said, cheerlessly. We're going to have to strengthen our whole computer system after this. I didn't realize it was quite so open to abuse. It worries me.
So there won't be any record of the materials being taken out of storage either, i concluded glumly.
No. Hiding a kilogram loss would be absurdly easy. We're used to dealing in ten-tonne units here. Unless it's larger than that we wouldn't even notice it's gone.
Great. OK, Rolf, I want Shannon over here to examine the computer system. See if she can find any signs of tampering.
He pulled a sardonic face. We'll be popular. Do you want her to do that before she tries to crack the rest of Maowkavitz's files?
I winced as I tried to sort out a priority list in my mind. No, Maowkavitz's files must come first. The Cybernetics Division computer is a long shot, but I would like it covered today. Do we have someone else who could run through it?
I could try, if you like. I took software management as my second subject at university.
OK, see what you can come up with. And also run a check through any other memory cores you can think of, see if the Colt's template was on file anywhere else.i gave wallace steinbauer a tight smile. I'd like you to install some stronger safeguards in your computer procedures as soon as possible, please. The idea of people being able to walk in here any time they like and load a template for an artillery piece isn't one I enjoy. I am responsible for Eden's overall security, and this seems like a gaping flaw.
Sure, I'll ask Quantumsoft if they can supply us with a more secure access authority program.
Good. Did you know Penny Maowkavitz?
He inflated his cheeks, and let out an awkward breath. Definitely a question he really did not want to be asked. I knew her. We had to keep the Biotechnology Division informed about the raw material produced by the digestive organs, especially if there were any problems. It was strictly an inter-department contact.
Penny was intractable, i suggested.
You've heard.
Yeah.
We didn't get on terribly well. But there was no point in making an issue out of it. I'm due back to Earth in another four months. And there was her illness . . .
I think you're the first person I've met that doesn't like it here.
I do like Eden, he protested lightly. It's interesting work, challenging. But the Snecma company has offered me a vice-presidential post in the New Kong asteroid. Better pay, more responsibility. I couldn't turn that down.
I left Rolf in Wallace Steinbauer's office to review the Cybernetics Division computer, and drove myself over to Penny Maowkavitz's house. By Eden's standards it was lavish, though nothing like as ostentatious as she could afford. She had built herself a U-shaped bungalow, with the wings embracing an oval swimming pool. It was set in a large garden which was shielded by a hedge of tall fuchsia bushes. I guessed Maowkavitz had designed the bushes herself; the topaz and jade flowers were larger than my fist, looking like origami snowflakes. Quite beautiful.
Davis Caldarola was sitting in a chair at the poolside, slouched down almost horizontally. He was in his fifties, just starting to put on weight. A ruby-red sports shirt and baggy shorts showed me limbs with dark tanned skin and a mass of fine greying hair. A tall glass was standing on the table beside him, rapidly melting ice cubes bobbing about near the bottom. I guessed at vodka and tonic. A second guess that it wasn't his first today. I made a conscious effort not to check with Eden.
He gestured roughly at a nearby chair, and I dragged it over to him.
«Ah, Eden's Chief of Police, himself. I'm honoured. I was wondering when you'd come calling,» he said. The voice was furry, not quite slurred, but close. In his state, I don't suppose he wanted to try holding his thoughts steady enough to use the affinity symbionts. «Your people have been barging round in the house for days.»
«I'm sorry if they're getting in your way. They were told to be as quiet as possible.»
«Ha! You're running a murder investigation. You told them to do whatever they have to, and bugger what—« He broke off and pressed his fists to his forehead. «Shit. I sound like the all-time self-pitying bastard.»
«I think you're entitled to feel whatever the hell you like right now.»
«Oh, very good; very clever. Christ Almighty.» He snatched the glass off the table and glared at it. «Too much of this bloody stuff. But what else is there?»
«I need to know what you can tell me about Penny, but I can come back later.»
He gave a loud snort. «I wouldn't if I were you. I'll be even worse then.» The last of the vodka was downed in a swift gulp. «What can I tell you? She was awkward, argumentative, obstinate, she wouldn't tolerate fools at all, let alone gladly. They all knew that, they all tiptoed around her. ‘Making allowances for her brilliance.' Like bollocks. They were jealous, all of them; her colleagues, her company staff, even that yogi master fruitcake Chong. She wasn't brilliant, she was a fucking genius. They don't call this Eden for nothing, you know, and it's her creation.»
«You're saying people resented her?»
«Some of them, yeah.»
«Anyone in particular?»
«God, I don't know. They're all the same, fawning over her in public, then stabbing her in the back once she's out of earshot. Bastards. None of them are sorry she's gone, not really. The only one who was ever honest about hating her guts was Chong's bimbo. The rest of them . . . they ought to hand out Oscars for the acting at that funeral.»
A servitor chimp came out of the house, carrying another tall glass. It put it on the table beside Davis Caldarola, and picked up the empty one. Davis gave the new glass a guilty look, then squinted over at me. «Have you got any idea who did it?»
«Not a specific suspect, no. But we've eliminated a lot of possibles.»
«You haven't got a fucking clue, have you? Jesus, she's murdered in full view, and you don't have one single idea who did it. What kind of policeman are you?»
I steeled my expression, and said: «A persistent one. I'll find the culprit eventually, but I'll do it a lot quicker with your cooperation.»
He wilted under the rebuke, just as I expected. Davis was a grieving drunk prone to tantrums, not an anti-establishment rebel.
«I want to know about her,» I said more gently. «Did she talk to you about her work?»
«Some. We were a stimulus to each other. I listened to her describe her genetics projects; and I explained my own field to her. She was interesting and interested. That's why our relationship worked so well, we were compatible right across the board.»
«You're an astronomer?»
«Astrophysicist.» He grinned savagely. «Get it right. There's some in my profession who'd be badly offended by that. Think yourself lucky I'm so easygoing.»
«Does the JSKP pay for your work?»
«Some of it, my position is part-funded by the University of Paris. I'm supposed to be studying Jupiter's gravitational collapse. Interesting field.»
«You don't sound very enthusiastic.»
«Oh, there's enough to captivate me. But there's a lot else going on up here, more provoking puzzles. Even after all this time observing Jupiter at close range, and dropping robot probes into the atmosphere, there's very little we know about it, certainly what goes on within the deeper levels, below the altitude which the probes can reach. Our solid-state sensor drones implode long before they reach the semisolid layers. All we've got on the interior is pure speculation, we don't understand what happens to matter at those sort of compression factors, not for sure. And Christ alone knows what's actually taking place at the core. There's a hundred theories.»
«And Penny was interested?»
He picked the glass of vodka up, swirled the ice, then put it down without drinking any. «Yeah. Academically, anyway. She could follow the arguments.»
«What did she tell you about her work?»
«Whatever she wanted. What bugged her, what was going well, new ideas. Christ, she would come up with some bizarre concepts at times. Balloon fish that could live in Jupiter's atmosphere, mythological creatures, webs of organic conductors which could fly in the Earth's ionosphere.»
«Anything really radical?»
«What? Those not enough for you? Don't you want to see dragons perching on the mountaintops again?»
«I meant something which could upset national economies, or put companies out of business.»
«No, nothing like that. Penny wasn't an anarchist. Besides, ninety per cent of her time was still tied up with developing the next generation of habitats. She was determined to do as much as she could before . . .» He trailed off helplessly.
«So, no secret projects, no fundamental breakthrough to crown her achievements?»
«No. The habitats were enough for her.»
«Did she ever mention anyone she was having trouble with?»
He gave the glass another covetous look. «No individuals. She was narked with some of the Boston crowd—« He stopped. Flinched. «You know about them?»
«Oh, yes. I know all about you.»
He grunted dismissively. «Big deal.»
«I take it the Boston argument was over the timing of independence?»
«Christ, some secret society we are. Yes. OK. All right, everyone knows it. Penny wanted the declaration as soon as the cloudscoop was operational. She was trying to talk people round, those that supported Parkinson. Which wasn't a good idea, she's not the diplomatic type. I was doing what I could, trying to help. She deserved to see independence.» His eyes narrowed on my uniform's UN insignia. «The old order overthrown.»
«What about you and her, did you ever argue?»
«You shit. You think I'd do that? I'd kill Penny? You fucked-up Gestapo bastard.» He hurled the glass of vodka towards me in an unsteady lurch. I didn't even have to duck, the aim was so wild. It splashed into the pool and sank, leaving just the ice cubes floating about.
I wanted to tell him. That it was just procedure. That he shouldn't take it personally. And that, no, I didn't think he killed her. But his whole face was contorted into abject misery, on the verge of tears.
Instead, I stood up and mumbled something vaguely apologetic. I don't suppose he even heard. Another servitor chimp carrying a fresh glass was already heading over to him when I slid open a patio door and stepped into Penny Maowkavitz's study.
Nice going, boss, shannon said. she was sitting in a luxurious scarlet swivel chair in front of a computer console, registering moderate exasperation.
You know I had to ask.
Yes. And I could have told you what reaction you would get.
Yeah.
But then that's what Davis would do even if he was guilty.
I looked at her in surprise. Do you think he's guilty?
No.
You're a big help.
How did it go at the Cybernetics Division?
Not good. Their computer security is a shambles. How are you making out with this one?i gazed at maowkavitz's computer; it was a powerful hypercube marque, with enough capacity to perform genesplice simulations. shannon had removed three panels from the side of the console, exposing the neat stack of slim processor blocks inside. a rat's nest of fibre-optic ribbons wormed their way through the databuses, plugging the system into several customized electronic modules lying on the carpet.
Shannon shoved some of her loose copper hair back from her forehead, and pointed to her own laptop terminal balanced on the edge of the console. Tough going, but I think I'm making progress.
I frowned round the study; it was almost depersonalized. A white-wall cube with a few framed holograph stills of various animals and plants I suspected where Maowkavitz's own gene-adaptions. How come Eden doesn't know the codes?
It can't see in. The whole room is made of composite, even the floor, and the patio door is silvered.
Funny. Not allowing her own creation to see what she was up to.
You think that's significant?
Insufficient data, which you're going to rectify for me. Today, remember?
If Boston includes police unionization and improved working conditions on its manifesto, they'll get my vote.
After that interview with Caldarola, which I can only describe as badly bungled, I drove back to the police station with the first chill of depression souring my thoughts. Or maybe it was plain honest guilt. I should have gone easier on Davis Caldarola; I knew full well he wasn't in any state to answer difficult personal questions. Then again, Shannon was quite right saying what she had: if he was guilty, that's exactly how he would behave.
Eden.
Yes, Chief Parfitt?
Did Maowkavitz and Caldarola argue very often?
They disagreed over many things. But their discussions were mainly conducted on a rational level. I would judge that they debated rather than argued. Although I do recall several rather intense rows over the years; but none of these occurred during the last eight months. His attitude towards her was one of complete devotion.
Thanks.
I didn't really suspect him. But, Christ, you've got to go by the book. Without that, without the law, nothing would function, society would cease to exist. Police work is more than tracking down lone lunatics. But I didn't expect Davis Caldarola would be too interested in a sociology lecture right then.
I was right. I did feel guilty.
I still hadn't unpacked the small box of personal items I'd brought with me to the office. There wasn't much in it, holograms of Jocelyn and the twins, paper books, some carved quartz we'd picked up on a holiday—God knows where, the memory was long gone. I sat at the desk and stared at it. I simply couldn't be bothered to make the effort to unpack. Besides, if Boston did make a bid for independence after the cloudscoop was lowered, I might be packing it up again real soon. If I didn't stop them. If the police wouldn't follow orders to stop them. If I didn't join them.
Christ.
I put my head in my hands and allowed myself a long minute of self-indulgent pity. It was no practical help, but wallowing in misery can feel great on occasion. Almost refreshing.
Eden.
Yes, Chief Parfitt?
Give me the identity signature for Lynette Mendelson, please.
The memory wasn't quite a visual image, more like an emotional sketch. I carefully ran through the procedure for singular engagement—it would never do for this conversation to be public property—and called her, projecting that unique mental trait which encapsulated her essence.
The response was more or less what I expected when I identified myself.
Oh, shit, I might have known you'd dump yourself into my life sooner or later, lynette mendelson groused. What did that bastard Zimmels tell you about me?
Only that he caught you trying to sell copies of the genomes for some new transgenic vegetables grown up here.i tactfully didn't mention what else was in her file. lynette mendelson worked for the jskp in eden's agronomy division as a soil chemistry specialist. it put her in a position where she had access to each batch of pacific nugene's new crop designs as they came out of the laboratory for field testing. it was a position which subjected her to a great deal of temptation. especially as she had a record for fencing prototype dna splices back on earth. technically, she should never have been allowed up here; jskp didn't employ anyone with a less than spotless record. but zimmels had vetoed the personnel department's rejection. a deceptively wily man, zimmels. because, sure enough, after twenty fascinating months spent analysing lumps of soil mendelson reverted, true to form. as an entrapment exercise, it was damn near perfect.
Zimmels made her the inevitable offer: join Boston, or get shipped back to Earth where JSKP will probably have you prosecuted, and certainly have you blacklisted. Unemployment and the dole for life.
Boston gained an ardent new supporter.
That was a long time ago, lynette mendelson said.
It certainly was. And I'm willing to overlook it, i told her magnanimously. But how do you think your Boston friends will react to knowing you've been supplying the Police Department, and indirectly the JSKP, with the names of their members, and information on their activities for the last two years? Eden has already had its first murder, so I suppose a lynching is inevitable at some point.
You bastard!
You knew perfectly well what you agreed to, Lynette; being a police informer is the same as paying taxes and becoming one of the undead, it lasts for ever.
Zimmels was paying me.
I doubt it.
Well, go ahead and blow me to Boston, then. Fat lot of use I'll be to you then.
Fat lot of use you are if I'm not kept regularly updated.i paused; in this game you have to know when to allow a little slack. i'd run enough informers in my own time. But I do have a small discretionary fund available.
You'd better not be shitting me.
Would I?
All right; but I want real money, not some poxy taxi-driver tip. I'm taking risks for you.
Thank you, Lynette. I want to know about the argument on the timing of when Eden should declare independence. Just how heated was it?
It wasn't heated at all, not on the surface. These people are born-again politicians, everything they say is smooth and righteous. Policy discussions are all very civilized.
But there was some objection to declaring independence right after the cloudscoop is lowered. Parkinson wanted to wait, I know, he told me. According to him, you wouldn't have enough money from a single cloud-scoop's revenue to fund the buyout.
That was Bob's big justification, yes. Penny's argument was that everything is relative. If today's operation can buy out today's shares, she said, then it makes no sense to wait a decade until the profits go up, because the equity base will increase proportionally. If anything, it makes the situation worse, because investors will be far more reluctant to let go of a sizeable ultra-stable successful He3 mining operation, which is what JSKP will be with more cloudscoops and the Callisto mass driver. By waiting you're just adding to the complexity of the leveraged buyout. But if Boston launched its buyout now, they'll still be able to attract investment for all the planned expansion projects, because the bankers don't care who's calling the shots as long as revenue keeps coming in. The whole point of the Boston takeover is to ensure the He3 mining doesn't become invalid, they can't afford to do without it. If you ask me, the whole timing issue was a clash of personalities between Penny and Bob. They got on pretty well before, then she started accusing him of only joining Boston to help JSKP delay independence, maybe even postpone it indefinitely. That he was a straight company man.
Have they taken a vote yet?
No. It's all been pushed off until after the cloudscoop lowering is complete. Parkinson, Harwood, and a few other big guns from Boston's council are down on the anchor asteroid for the next few weeks supervising the mission. If it's successful they'll start the debate for real.
I see. Tell me, do you know if Boston ever tried to recruit Wallace Steinbauer?
He was asked. But Snecma offered him a good position back in the O'Neill Halo. Eden and the JSKP are just opportunities for him, he's exploiting his success with the Cybernetics Division to put himself way ahead of his contemporaries on the corporate ladder. He's an ambitious little bastard. Everyone knows that. So he turned Boston down flat; frightened he'd be tarred with the brush of the revolution. That would kill his promotion chances stone dead. Snecma have a seven per cent stake in JSKP, he's one of their most senior people here.
OK, thanks for your help. I'll be in touch.
Can't wait.
My watch said it was gone five when Nyberg drove me over to the hospital. Not that I could tell, the day-long noon of the light-tube was dousing the town and parkland in the same glaring corona as it always did. Corrine hadn't been exactly enthusiastic about my visit, but I'd come over all official, so she acquiesced with a minimum of fuss.
Bicycles filled the streets again. Everyone on their way home. Affinity allowed me to soak up the general buzz of expectation they radiated. When I asked Nyberg if that was always how it was, she told me people were optimistic about the cloudscoop lowering, eager for it to begin. I suppose I hadn't really been paying attention to the impending mission and what it meant. But of course, to Eden's population it was the dawn of a whole new era. Almost as if the habitat was coming of age. Boston or no Boston, this was what they were here to achieve.
It was only people like me who were mired in the mundane.
Corrine was sitting working at her desk, with a pile of bubble cubes beside her terminal. «Be with you in a minute,» she said, without looking up.
Fine.
She grinned wolfishly, and slipped another cube into the terminal's slot. Your session with Chong went well, then?
Yes. Quite a remarkable man. Makes me feel glad I threw my rank about; someone like me doesn't often get the chance to talk to a living legend.
Make the most of it.
What's that supposed to mean?
Corrine held her hand up, concentrating hard on the terminal's holographic screen. Then she let out a satisfied grunt, and flicked the terminal off. The bubble cube was ejected from its slot. Amazing. The kids born up here just don't have psychological problems. I'm going to have to recommend we release two of our paediatric psychiatrists from their contracts and send them back to Earth. They're just wasting their time in Eden.
Yes, you told me before, the kids who grow up with affinity are better adjusted.
So I did. But the degree to which they've involved themselves in this consensus mentality is astounding. You'd normally expect one or two unable to cope, but we haven't found one single case. Maybe I should keep the psychiatrists on after all, they make a fascinating study.
Sure. You were talking about Wing-Tsit Chong.
She gave a miscreant smile. No. It's you who's interested.
Corrine!
OK. Spare me the third degree. You saw how frail he was?
Yeah.i felt a sudden chill. Not another terminal illness?
Not exactly an illness, just something we all suffer from eventually: old age. He is over ninety, after all. I could keep him alive for several more years, maybe even stretch it out for over a decade. We have the appropriate life-support techniques nowadays, especially for someone as important as him. But he turned down all my offers. I can hardly insist; and he's quite happy doing what he does, sitting and thinking all day long. I hope I go like that when it's my turn; out there in the clean air watching the swans paddle about, rather than in a hospital bed smothering in machinery.
How long has he got?
Sorry, detective, that's something I can't give you a precise answer to. I'd say anything up to a couple of years, providing he doesn't overtax himself. Fortunately Hoi Yin makes sure he doesn't.
Yes,i said emphatically, so I noticed. Do you know how the two of them met?
She's his student, so she always told me. They were both already here when I arrived four years ago. And in all that time she's never been involved with anyone. Surprisingly, because enough have tried. Was that what you came over to ask me about? Gossip on Hoi Yin? There's no need to turn up in person, that's what affinity is for. Bloody marvellous faculty, isn't it? You'll have to practise using it. A lot of people experiment once they've had their symbionts implanted. Sex is a popular field of exploration with the teenagers, and the teenagers at heart.
Sex?
Yes. Affinity is the only true way to find out what it really feels like from the other side.
Christ. As Chief of Police I think it's my duty to access your record; how you were ever granted a practitioner's licence to minister to the sick is beyond me.
Dear oh dear, I do believe our hardened criminologist is blushing. Aren't you the remotest bit curious?
No.
Liar. I was. It's . . . interesting. Knowing exactly how to please your partner.
I'll take your word for it.the damnedest thing was, now she had mentioned it the notion seemed to have lodged in my mind. curiosity is a terrifying weapon.
So if it isn't sex, and it isn't how to meet the divine Miss Hoi Yin socially, what did you come here for?
I went to the window wall behind her, and shut the louvre blinds. Silver-grey light cast dusky shadows across the office.
What are you doing?corrine asked.
Eden, can you perceive the inside of this office?
It is difficult, Chief Parfitt. I see the silhouette of someone standing behind the blinds, that is all.
Thank you."what about hearing? can you hear what's being said in here?»
The question was met with mental silence.
Corrine was giving me a speculative look.
I backed away from the window. «There's a question I've wanted to ask you. I don't know if I'm being paranoid, or if I'm misunderstanding affinity, but I'd value your opinion on this.»
«Go on.»
«You told me that the children share their thoughts quite openly. So that set me to thinking, is it possible for the servitor chimps to develop a communal intelligence?»
«Is it . . . ?» Corrine trailed off in shock, then gave a nervous little laugh. «Are you serious?»
«Very. I was thinking of an insect hive mind. Individually the chimps are always subsentient, but what if all those minds are linked up by affinity and act in tandem? That's a lot of brain power, Corrine. Could it happen?»
She was still staring at me, thunderstruck. «I . . . I don't know. No. No, I'm sure that couldn't happen.» She was trying to sound forceful, as if her own conviction would make it certain. «Intelligence doesn't work like that. There are several marques of hypercube computers which have far more processing power than the human brain, yet they don't achieve sentience when you switch them on. You can run Turing AI programs in them, but that's basically just clever response software.»
«But these are living brains. Quantum wire processors can't have original thoughts, inspiration and intuition; but flesh and blood can. And it's only brain size which is the barrier to achieving full sentience. Doesn't affinity provide the chimps with a perfect method of breaking that barrier? And worse, a secret method.»
«Jesus.» She shook her head in consternation. «Harvey, I can't think of a rational argument to refute it, not straight off the top of my head. But I just can't bring myself to believe it. Let me go through it logically. If the chimps developed intelligence, then why not tell us?»
«Because we'd stop them.»
«You are paranoid. Why would we put a stop to it?»
«Because they are servitors. If we acknowledge their intelligence they stop working for us and start competing against us.»
«What's so terrible about that? And even if the current generation were to stop performing the habitat's manual labour, people like Penny would just design new ones incapable of reaching . . . Oh shit, you think they killed her.»
«She created them; a race born into slavery.»
«No. I said people like her. Penny didn't create them; Pacific Nugene has nothing to do with the servitors. Bringing them to Eden was all Wing-Tsit Chong's idea. It's the Soyana company which supplies JSKP with servitors, they clone the chimps up here, along with all the other affinity capable servitor creatures. Soyana and Chong are responsible for them living in servitude, not Penny.»
«Oh. I should check my facts more thoroughly. Sorry.»
«Hell, Harvey, you frightened me. Don't do things like that.»
I managed a weak smile. «See, people would be afraid if the chimps developed intelligence. There's a healthy xenophobic streak running through all of us.»
«No, you don't. That wasn't xenophobia. Shock, maybe. Once the initial surprise wore off, people would welcome another sentient species. And only someone with a nasty suspicious mind like yours would immediately assume that the chimps would resort to vengeance and murder. You judge too much by your own standards, Harvey.»
«Probably.»
«You know you're completely shattering my illusions about policemen. I thought you were all humourless and unimaginative. God, sentient chimps!»
«It's my job to explore every avenue of possibility.»
«I take it this means you don't have a human suspect yet?»
«I have a lot of people hotly protesting their innocence. Although the way everyone keeps claiming they overlooked Penny Maowkavitz's infamous Attitude because of who she was is beginning to ring hollow. Several individuals had some quite serious altercations with her.»
Corrine's face brightened in anticipation. «Like who?»
«Now, Doctor, the medical profession has its confidentiality; we humble police have our sub judice.»
«You mean you don't have a clue.»
«Correct.»
I wasn't back in the house thirty seconds when the twins cornered me.
«We need you to authorize our implants,» Nicolette said. She held up a hospital administration bubble cube. Her face was guileless and expectant. Nathaniel wasn't much different.
Fathers have very little defence against their children, especially when they expect you to be a combination knight hero and Santa Claus.
I glanced nervously at the kitchen, where I could hear Jocelyn moving about. «I said, next week,» I told Nicolette in a low voice. «This is too soon.»
«You had one,» Nathaniel said.
«I had to have one, it's my job.»
«We need them,» Nicolette insisted. «For school, for talking with our friends. We'll be ostracized again if we're not affinity-capable. Is that what you want?»
«No, of course not.»
«It's Mum, isn't it?» she asked, sorrowfully.
«No. Your mother and I both agree on this.»
«That's not fair,» Nathaniel blurted hotly. «We didn't want to come here. OK, we were wrong. Bringing us to Eden was the greatest thing you've ever done for us. People live here, really live, not like in the arcologies. Now we want to belong, we want to be a part of what's going on here, and you won't let us. Well, just what do you want us to do, Dad? What do you want from us?»
«I simply want you to take a little time to think it through, that's all.»
«What's to think? Affinity isn't a drug, we're not dropping out of school, the Pope's an idiot. So why can't we have the symbiont implants? Just give us one logical reason.»
«Because I don't know if we're staying here,» I bellowed. «I don't know if we're going to be allowed to stay here. Got that?»
I couldn't remember the last time I'd raised my voice to them—years ago, if I ever had.
They both shrank back. The shame from watching them do that was excruciating. My own kids, fearful. Christ.
Nathaniel rallied first, his expression hardening. «I'm not leaving Eden,» he snapped. «You can't make me. I'll divorce you if I have to. But I'm staying.» He very deliberately put his bubble cube down on a small table, then turned round and stalked off to his room.
«Oh, Daddy,» Nicolette said. It was a rebuke that was almost unbearable.
«I did ask you to wait. Was one week so difficult?»
«I know,» she said forlornly. «But there's a girl; Nat met her at the water sports centre.»
«Great. Just great.»
«She's lovely, Dad. Really pretty, and she's older than him. Sixteen.»
«Pension age.»
«Don't you see? She doesn't mind that he's a few months younger, that he's not as sophisticated as she is, she still likes him. That never happened to him before. It couldn't happen to him, not back on Earth.»
Sex, the one subject every parent dreads. I could see Corrine's face, leering knowingly. Eden teenagers use affinity to experiment. Thoroughly.
I must have groaned, because Nicolette was resting her hand on my arm, concern sculpted into her features.
«Dad, are you all right?»
«Bad day at the office, dear. And what about you? Is there a boy at the sports centre?»
Her smile became all sheepish and demure. «Some of them are quite nice, yes. No one special, not yet.»
«Don't worry, they won't leave you alone.»
She blushed, and looked at her feet. «Will you speak to Mum about the symbionts? Please, Dad?»
«I'll speak to her.»
Nicolette stood on tiptoes, and kissed me. «Thanks, Dad. And don't worry about Nat, his hormones are surging, that's all. Time of the month.» She put her bubble cube on the table next to Nathaniel's, and skipped off down the hall to her room.
Why is it that children, the most perfect gift we can ever be given, can hurt more than any physical pain?
I picked the two bubble cubes up and weighed them in my palm. Sex. Oh, Christ.
When I turned round, Jocelyn was standing in the kitchen doorway. «Did you hear all that?»
Her lips quirked in sympathy. «Poor Harvey. Yes, I heard.»
«Divorced by my own son. I wonder if he'll expect alimony?»
«I think you could do with a drink.»
«Do we have any?»
«Yes.»
«Thank Christ for that.»
I flopped down in the lounge's big mock-leather settee, and Jocelyn poured me a glass of white wine. The patio doors were open wide, letting in a balmy breeze which set the big potted angel-trumpet plants swaying.
«Now just relax,» Jocelyn said, and fixed me with a stern look. «I'll get you something to eat later.»
I tasted the wine—sweet but pleasant. Shrugged out of my uniform jacket, and undid my shirt collar. Another sip of the wine.
I fished about in the jacket for my PNC wafer, and accessed the JSKP's personnel file on Hoi Yin, or Chong's bimbo, as Caldarola had called her. I'd been curious about that ever since.
Surprisingly, my authority code rating was only just sufficient to retrieve her file from the company memory core; its security classification was actually higher than Fasholé Nocord's. And there I was thinking my troubles couldn't possibly get any worse.
My fourth day started with a re-run of the third. I drove myself out to Wing-Tsit Chong's lakeside retreat. Eden confirmed Hoi Yin was there, what it neglected to mention was what she was doing.
I parked beside the lonely pagoda and stepped down out of the jeep. The wind chimes made a delicate silver tinkling in the stillness. Chong was nowhere to be seen. Hoi Yin was swimming in the lake, right out in the middle where she was cutting through the dark water with a powerful crawl stroke.
I would like to talk with you, i told her. Now, please.
There was no reply, but she performed a neat flip, legs appearing briefly above the surface, and headed back towards the shore. I saw a dark-purple towel lying on the grass, and walked over to it.
Hoi Yin stood up just before she reached the fringe of water lilies, and started wading ashore. She wasn't wearing a swimming costume. Her hair flowed down her back like a slippery diaphanous cloak.
There's an old story which did the rounds while I was at the Hendon Police College: when Moses came down from the mount carrying the tablets of stone he said, «First the good news, I managed to get Him down to ten commandments. The bad news is, He wouldn't budge on adultery.»
Looking at Hoi Yin as she rose up before me like some elemental naiad, I knew how the waiting crowd must have felt. Men have killed for women far less beautiful than her.
She reached the edge of the lake and I handed her the towel.
Does nakedness bother you, Chief Parfitt? You seem a little tense.she pulled her mass of hair forwards over her shoulder, and began towelling it vigorously.
Depends on the context. But then you'd know all that. Quite the expert, in fact.
She stopped drying her hair, and gave me a chary glance. You have accessed my file.
Yes. My authority code gave me entry, but there aren't many people in Eden who could view it.
You believe I am at fault for not informing you what it contained?
Bloody hell, Hoi Yin, you know you're at fault. Christ Almighty, Penny Maowkavitz designed you for Soyana, using her own ovum as a genetic base. She altered her DNA to give you your looks, and improve your metabolism, and increase your intelligence. It was almost a case of parthenogenesis; genetically speaking, she's somewhere between your mother and your twin. And you think that wasn't important enough to tell me? Get real!
It was not a relationship she chose to acknowledge.
Yeah. I'll bet. Quite a shock for her, I imagine, finding you up here with Chong. She ignored nearly all of Calfornia's biotechnology ethics regulations to work on that contract; and indenture is pretty dodgy legal ground even in Soyana's own arcology. Your file says you were created exclusively as a geisha for all those middle-aged executives, that's why you were given Helen of Troy's beauty. Maowkavitz considered you an interesting organism, nothing more. You were a job that paid well, and twenty-eight years ago Pacific Nugene needed that money quite badly. Everything which came later, her success and fortune, was all founded on the money which came from selling you right at the start, you and Christ knows how many other sisters like you. Then you came back to haunt her.
That was when the process became complex. Sandwiched between the endcap's inner and outer layers were titanic organs; first, enzyme filtration glands which distilled and separated minerals and ores into their constituent compounds. Anything dangerously toxic was vented back out into space through porous sections of the shell. Organic chemicals were fed into a second series of organs where they were combined into nutrient fluids and delivered to the mitosis layer to sustain Eden's growth. Inorganic elements were diverted into deep storage silos buried in the polyp behind the cyberfactory caverns, glittery dry powders filling the cavities like metallic grain.
We have huge surpluses of metals and a host of other minerals, wallace steinbauer said. And they're all available in their purest form. We send the metal powder out to a furnace station to get usable ingots and tubing. The minerals we shove through a small chemical-processing plant.
So you're totally self-sufficient now?i said. my admiration for penny maowkavitz had returned with a vengeance after i viewed the maw and its associated organs. that woman had ingenuity in abundance.
I like to think so. Certainly we'll be able to provide Pallas and Ararat with their own cyberfactories. That's our next big project. Right now we're just ticking over with maintenance and spares for our existing systems.
So a simple pistol is no trouble.
That's right.wallace steinbauer rifled through some boxes at the side of his desk, and pulled out the colt with a triumphant grin. No major problem in putting it together, he said. But then I never thought it would be. We could build you some weapons far more powerful than this if you asked.
I took it from him, testing the weight. It struck me as appallingly primitive; looking from the side the grip jutted almost as though it was an afterthought. There was an eagle emblem on the silicon, its wings stretched wide. Interesting point. If you could build any gun you wanted, why choose a weapon like this, why not something more modern?
I'd suggest your murderer chose it precisely because of its simplicity, wallace steinbauer said. The Colt .45 has been around since the late eighteen-hundreds. Don't let its age fool you, it's an effective weapon, especially for close-range work. And from a strictly mechanical point of view it's a very basic piece of machinery, which means it's easy to fabricate, and highly reliable, especially when made out of these materials. I'd say it was an excellent choice.
But why an exact replica?rolf asked. Surely you can come up with something better using the kind of CAD programs we have these days? My kid designs stuff more complicated than this at school, and he's only nine. In fact why bother with a revolver at all? The chimp was only ever going to be able to fire a single shot.
I can give you a one-word answer, wallace steinbauer said. Testing. The Colt is tried and tested, with two hundred years of successful operation behind it. The murderer knew the components worked. If he had designed his own gun he would need to test it to make absolutely sure it was going to fire when the chimp pulled the trigger. And you can hardly test a gun in Eden.
I handed the pistol over to Rolf. Everyone keeps talking about templates, and original components, i said. Where did they come from? I know any reference library memory core would have video images of a Colt. But where did actual templates come from? How did you make this one?
Wallace Steinbauer scratched the back of his head, looking faintly embarrassed. My division has the templates for quite a few weapons. It's the potential, you see. If the police or the Governor ever really needed heavy duty firepower, like if those Boston bastards turn violent, I could provide you with the relevant hardware within a few hours. Those stun guns and lasers you're issued with are only adequate providing you don't come up against anything more powerful.
And the Colt is one of the templates?i said wearily.
Yes, I'm afraid so. I didn't know myself until your department came to me with this request. It looks like someone back on Earth just downloaded an entire History of Armaments almanac for our reference source.
Who else has accessed the Colt's file?
Wallace Steinbauer grimaced apologetically. There's no record of any access prior to my request. Sorry.
Has your computer been compromised?
I thought it was a secure system, but I suppose it must have been. There are only five people in the division including me who have the authority to access the weapons files anyway. So the murderer must have hacked in; if they have the skill for that, erasing access records wouldn't pose any problem.
I used singular-engagement mode to tell Rolf: We'll need alibis for Steinbauer and the other four who can access the weapons file. Also check to see if any of them ever had any contact with Maowkavitz.
Yes, sir.
What about records for machine time?i asked steinbauer. Do you know when the original pistol's components were fabricated?
Again, nothing, he said, cheerlessly. We're going to have to strengthen our whole computer system after this. I didn't realize it was quite so open to abuse. It worries me.
So there won't be any record of the materials being taken out of storage either, i concluded glumly.
No. Hiding a kilogram loss would be absurdly easy. We're used to dealing in ten-tonne units here. Unless it's larger than that we wouldn't even notice it's gone.
Great. OK, Rolf, I want Shannon over here to examine the computer system. See if she can find any signs of tampering.
He pulled a sardonic face. We'll be popular. Do you want her to do that before she tries to crack the rest of Maowkavitz's files?
I winced as I tried to sort out a priority list in my mind. No, Maowkavitz's files must come first. The Cybernetics Division computer is a long shot, but I would like it covered today. Do we have someone else who could run through it?
I could try, if you like. I took software management as my second subject at university.
OK, see what you can come up with. And also run a check through any other memory cores you can think of, see if the Colt's template was on file anywhere else.i gave wallace steinbauer a tight smile. I'd like you to install some stronger safeguards in your computer procedures as soon as possible, please. The idea of people being able to walk in here any time they like and load a template for an artillery piece isn't one I enjoy. I am responsible for Eden's overall security, and this seems like a gaping flaw.
Sure, I'll ask Quantumsoft if they can supply us with a more secure access authority program.
Good. Did you know Penny Maowkavitz?
He inflated his cheeks, and let out an awkward breath. Definitely a question he really did not want to be asked. I knew her. We had to keep the Biotechnology Division informed about the raw material produced by the digestive organs, especially if there were any problems. It was strictly an inter-department contact.
Penny was intractable, i suggested.
You've heard.
Yeah.
We didn't get on terribly well. But there was no point in making an issue out of it. I'm due back to Earth in another four months. And there was her illness . . .
I think you're the first person I've met that doesn't like it here.
I do like Eden, he protested lightly. It's interesting work, challenging. But the Snecma company has offered me a vice-presidential post in the New Kong asteroid. Better pay, more responsibility. I couldn't turn that down.
I left Rolf in Wallace Steinbauer's office to review the Cybernetics Division computer, and drove myself over to Penny Maowkavitz's house. By Eden's standards it was lavish, though nothing like as ostentatious as she could afford. She had built herself a U-shaped bungalow, with the wings embracing an oval swimming pool. It was set in a large garden which was shielded by a hedge of tall fuchsia bushes. I guessed Maowkavitz had designed the bushes herself; the topaz and jade flowers were larger than my fist, looking like origami snowflakes. Quite beautiful.
Davis Caldarola was sitting in a chair at the poolside, slouched down almost horizontally. He was in his fifties, just starting to put on weight. A ruby-red sports shirt and baggy shorts showed me limbs with dark tanned skin and a mass of fine greying hair. A tall glass was standing on the table beside him, rapidly melting ice cubes bobbing about near the bottom. I guessed at vodka and tonic. A second guess that it wasn't his first today. I made a conscious effort not to check with Eden.
He gestured roughly at a nearby chair, and I dragged it over to him.
«Ah, Eden's Chief of Police, himself. I'm honoured. I was wondering when you'd come calling,» he said. The voice was furry, not quite slurred, but close. In his state, I don't suppose he wanted to try holding his thoughts steady enough to use the affinity symbionts. «Your people have been barging round in the house for days.»
«I'm sorry if they're getting in your way. They were told to be as quiet as possible.»
«Ha! You're running a murder investigation. You told them to do whatever they have to, and bugger what—« He broke off and pressed his fists to his forehead. «Shit. I sound like the all-time self-pitying bastard.»
«I think you're entitled to feel whatever the hell you like right now.»
«Oh, very good; very clever. Christ Almighty.» He snatched the glass off the table and glared at it. «Too much of this bloody stuff. But what else is there?»
«I need to know what you can tell me about Penny, but I can come back later.»
He gave a loud snort. «I wouldn't if I were you. I'll be even worse then.» The last of the vodka was downed in a swift gulp. «What can I tell you? She was awkward, argumentative, obstinate, she wouldn't tolerate fools at all, let alone gladly. They all knew that, they all tiptoed around her. ‘Making allowances for her brilliance.' Like bollocks. They were jealous, all of them; her colleagues, her company staff, even that yogi master fruitcake Chong. She wasn't brilliant, she was a fucking genius. They don't call this Eden for nothing, you know, and it's her creation.»
«You're saying people resented her?»
«Some of them, yeah.»
«Anyone in particular?»
«God, I don't know. They're all the same, fawning over her in public, then stabbing her in the back once she's out of earshot. Bastards. None of them are sorry she's gone, not really. The only one who was ever honest about hating her guts was Chong's bimbo. The rest of them . . . they ought to hand out Oscars for the acting at that funeral.»
A servitor chimp came out of the house, carrying another tall glass. It put it on the table beside Davis Caldarola, and picked up the empty one. Davis gave the new glass a guilty look, then squinted over at me. «Have you got any idea who did it?»
«Not a specific suspect, no. But we've eliminated a lot of possibles.»
«You haven't got a fucking clue, have you? Jesus, she's murdered in full view, and you don't have one single idea who did it. What kind of policeman are you?»
I steeled my expression, and said: «A persistent one. I'll find the culprit eventually, but I'll do it a lot quicker with your cooperation.»
He wilted under the rebuke, just as I expected. Davis was a grieving drunk prone to tantrums, not an anti-establishment rebel.
«I want to know about her,» I said more gently. «Did she talk to you about her work?»
«Some. We were a stimulus to each other. I listened to her describe her genetics projects; and I explained my own field to her. She was interesting and interested. That's why our relationship worked so well, we were compatible right across the board.»
«You're an astronomer?»
«Astrophysicist.» He grinned savagely. «Get it right. There's some in my profession who'd be badly offended by that. Think yourself lucky I'm so easygoing.»
«Does the JSKP pay for your work?»
«Some of it, my position is part-funded by the University of Paris. I'm supposed to be studying Jupiter's gravitational collapse. Interesting field.»
«You don't sound very enthusiastic.»
«Oh, there's enough to captivate me. But there's a lot else going on up here, more provoking puzzles. Even after all this time observing Jupiter at close range, and dropping robot probes into the atmosphere, there's very little we know about it, certainly what goes on within the deeper levels, below the altitude which the probes can reach. Our solid-state sensor drones implode long before they reach the semisolid layers. All we've got on the interior is pure speculation, we don't understand what happens to matter at those sort of compression factors, not for sure. And Christ alone knows what's actually taking place at the core. There's a hundred theories.»
«And Penny was interested?»
He picked the glass of vodka up, swirled the ice, then put it down without drinking any. «Yeah. Academically, anyway. She could follow the arguments.»
«What did she tell you about her work?»
«Whatever she wanted. What bugged her, what was going well, new ideas. Christ, she would come up with some bizarre concepts at times. Balloon fish that could live in Jupiter's atmosphere, mythological creatures, webs of organic conductors which could fly in the Earth's ionosphere.»
«Anything really radical?»
«What? Those not enough for you? Don't you want to see dragons perching on the mountaintops again?»
«I meant something which could upset national economies, or put companies out of business.»
«No, nothing like that. Penny wasn't an anarchist. Besides, ninety per cent of her time was still tied up with developing the next generation of habitats. She was determined to do as much as she could before . . .» He trailed off helplessly.
«So, no secret projects, no fundamental breakthrough to crown her achievements?»
«No. The habitats were enough for her.»
«Did she ever mention anyone she was having trouble with?»
He gave the glass another covetous look. «No individuals. She was narked with some of the Boston crowd—« He stopped. Flinched. «You know about them?»
«Oh, yes. I know all about you.»
He grunted dismissively. «Big deal.»
«I take it the Boston argument was over the timing of independence?»
«Christ, some secret society we are. Yes. OK. All right, everyone knows it. Penny wanted the declaration as soon as the cloudscoop was operational. She was trying to talk people round, those that supported Parkinson. Which wasn't a good idea, she's not the diplomatic type. I was doing what I could, trying to help. She deserved to see independence.» His eyes narrowed on my uniform's UN insignia. «The old order overthrown.»
«What about you and her, did you ever argue?»
«You shit. You think I'd do that? I'd kill Penny? You fucked-up Gestapo bastard.» He hurled the glass of vodka towards me in an unsteady lurch. I didn't even have to duck, the aim was so wild. It splashed into the pool and sank, leaving just the ice cubes floating about.
I wanted to tell him. That it was just procedure. That he shouldn't take it personally. And that, no, I didn't think he killed her. But his whole face was contorted into abject misery, on the verge of tears.
Instead, I stood up and mumbled something vaguely apologetic. I don't suppose he even heard. Another servitor chimp carrying a fresh glass was already heading over to him when I slid open a patio door and stepped into Penny Maowkavitz's study.
Nice going, boss, shannon said. she was sitting in a luxurious scarlet swivel chair in front of a computer console, registering moderate exasperation.
You know I had to ask.
Yes. And I could have told you what reaction you would get.
Yeah.
But then that's what Davis would do even if he was guilty.
I looked at her in surprise. Do you think he's guilty?
No.
You're a big help.
How did it go at the Cybernetics Division?
Not good. Their computer security is a shambles. How are you making out with this one?i gazed at maowkavitz's computer; it was a powerful hypercube marque, with enough capacity to perform genesplice simulations. shannon had removed three panels from the side of the console, exposing the neat stack of slim processor blocks inside. a rat's nest of fibre-optic ribbons wormed their way through the databuses, plugging the system into several customized electronic modules lying on the carpet.
Shannon shoved some of her loose copper hair back from her forehead, and pointed to her own laptop terminal balanced on the edge of the console. Tough going, but I think I'm making progress.
I frowned round the study; it was almost depersonalized. A white-wall cube with a few framed holograph stills of various animals and plants I suspected where Maowkavitz's own gene-adaptions. How come Eden doesn't know the codes?
It can't see in. The whole room is made of composite, even the floor, and the patio door is silvered.
Funny. Not allowing her own creation to see what she was up to.
You think that's significant?
Insufficient data, which you're going to rectify for me. Today, remember?
If Boston includes police unionization and improved working conditions on its manifesto, they'll get my vote.
After that interview with Caldarola, which I can only describe as badly bungled, I drove back to the police station with the first chill of depression souring my thoughts. Or maybe it was plain honest guilt. I should have gone easier on Davis Caldarola; I knew full well he wasn't in any state to answer difficult personal questions. Then again, Shannon was quite right saying what she had: if he was guilty, that's exactly how he would behave.
Eden.
Yes, Chief Parfitt?
Did Maowkavitz and Caldarola argue very often?
They disagreed over many things. But their discussions were mainly conducted on a rational level. I would judge that they debated rather than argued. Although I do recall several rather intense rows over the years; but none of these occurred during the last eight months. His attitude towards her was one of complete devotion.
Thanks.
I didn't really suspect him. But, Christ, you've got to go by the book. Without that, without the law, nothing would function, society would cease to exist. Police work is more than tracking down lone lunatics. But I didn't expect Davis Caldarola would be too interested in a sociology lecture right then.
I was right. I did feel guilty.
I still hadn't unpacked the small box of personal items I'd brought with me to the office. There wasn't much in it, holograms of Jocelyn and the twins, paper books, some carved quartz we'd picked up on a holiday—God knows where, the memory was long gone. I sat at the desk and stared at it. I simply couldn't be bothered to make the effort to unpack. Besides, if Boston did make a bid for independence after the cloudscoop was lowered, I might be packing it up again real soon. If I didn't stop them. If the police wouldn't follow orders to stop them. If I didn't join them.
Christ.
I put my head in my hands and allowed myself a long minute of self-indulgent pity. It was no practical help, but wallowing in misery can feel great on occasion. Almost refreshing.
Eden.
Yes, Chief Parfitt?
Give me the identity signature for Lynette Mendelson, please.
The memory wasn't quite a visual image, more like an emotional sketch. I carefully ran through the procedure for singular engagement—it would never do for this conversation to be public property—and called her, projecting that unique mental trait which encapsulated her essence.
The response was more or less what I expected when I identified myself.
Oh, shit, I might have known you'd dump yourself into my life sooner or later, lynette mendelson groused. What did that bastard Zimmels tell you about me?
Only that he caught you trying to sell copies of the genomes for some new transgenic vegetables grown up here.i tactfully didn't mention what else was in her file. lynette mendelson worked for the jskp in eden's agronomy division as a soil chemistry specialist. it put her in a position where she had access to each batch of pacific nugene's new crop designs as they came out of the laboratory for field testing. it was a position which subjected her to a great deal of temptation. especially as she had a record for fencing prototype dna splices back on earth. technically, she should never have been allowed up here; jskp didn't employ anyone with a less than spotless record. but zimmels had vetoed the personnel department's rejection. a deceptively wily man, zimmels. because, sure enough, after twenty fascinating months spent analysing lumps of soil mendelson reverted, true to form. as an entrapment exercise, it was damn near perfect.
Zimmels made her the inevitable offer: join Boston, or get shipped back to Earth where JSKP will probably have you prosecuted, and certainly have you blacklisted. Unemployment and the dole for life.
Boston gained an ardent new supporter.
That was a long time ago, lynette mendelson said.
It certainly was. And I'm willing to overlook it, i told her magnanimously. But how do you think your Boston friends will react to knowing you've been supplying the Police Department, and indirectly the JSKP, with the names of their members, and information on their activities for the last two years? Eden has already had its first murder, so I suppose a lynching is inevitable at some point.
You bastard!
You knew perfectly well what you agreed to, Lynette; being a police informer is the same as paying taxes and becoming one of the undead, it lasts for ever.
Zimmels was paying me.
I doubt it.
Well, go ahead and blow me to Boston, then. Fat lot of use I'll be to you then.
Fat lot of use you are if I'm not kept regularly updated.i paused; in this game you have to know when to allow a little slack. i'd run enough informers in my own time. But I do have a small discretionary fund available.
You'd better not be shitting me.
Would I?
All right; but I want real money, not some poxy taxi-driver tip. I'm taking risks for you.
Thank you, Lynette. I want to know about the argument on the timing of when Eden should declare independence. Just how heated was it?
It wasn't heated at all, not on the surface. These people are born-again politicians, everything they say is smooth and righteous. Policy discussions are all very civilized.
But there was some objection to declaring independence right after the cloudscoop is lowered. Parkinson wanted to wait, I know, he told me. According to him, you wouldn't have enough money from a single cloud-scoop's revenue to fund the buyout.
That was Bob's big justification, yes. Penny's argument was that everything is relative. If today's operation can buy out today's shares, she said, then it makes no sense to wait a decade until the profits go up, because the equity base will increase proportionally. If anything, it makes the situation worse, because investors will be far more reluctant to let go of a sizeable ultra-stable successful He3 mining operation, which is what JSKP will be with more cloudscoops and the Callisto mass driver. By waiting you're just adding to the complexity of the leveraged buyout. But if Boston launched its buyout now, they'll still be able to attract investment for all the planned expansion projects, because the bankers don't care who's calling the shots as long as revenue keeps coming in. The whole point of the Boston takeover is to ensure the He3 mining doesn't become invalid, they can't afford to do without it. If you ask me, the whole timing issue was a clash of personalities between Penny and Bob. They got on pretty well before, then she started accusing him of only joining Boston to help JSKP delay independence, maybe even postpone it indefinitely. That he was a straight company man.
Have they taken a vote yet?
No. It's all been pushed off until after the cloudscoop lowering is complete. Parkinson, Harwood, and a few other big guns from Boston's council are down on the anchor asteroid for the next few weeks supervising the mission. If it's successful they'll start the debate for real.
I see. Tell me, do you know if Boston ever tried to recruit Wallace Steinbauer?
He was asked. But Snecma offered him a good position back in the O'Neill Halo. Eden and the JSKP are just opportunities for him, he's exploiting his success with the Cybernetics Division to put himself way ahead of his contemporaries on the corporate ladder. He's an ambitious little bastard. Everyone knows that. So he turned Boston down flat; frightened he'd be tarred with the brush of the revolution. That would kill his promotion chances stone dead. Snecma have a seven per cent stake in JSKP, he's one of their most senior people here.
OK, thanks for your help. I'll be in touch.
Can't wait.
My watch said it was gone five when Nyberg drove me over to the hospital. Not that I could tell, the day-long noon of the light-tube was dousing the town and parkland in the same glaring corona as it always did. Corrine hadn't been exactly enthusiastic about my visit, but I'd come over all official, so she acquiesced with a minimum of fuss.
Bicycles filled the streets again. Everyone on their way home. Affinity allowed me to soak up the general buzz of expectation they radiated. When I asked Nyberg if that was always how it was, she told me people were optimistic about the cloudscoop lowering, eager for it to begin. I suppose I hadn't really been paying attention to the impending mission and what it meant. But of course, to Eden's population it was the dawn of a whole new era. Almost as if the habitat was coming of age. Boston or no Boston, this was what they were here to achieve.
It was only people like me who were mired in the mundane.
Corrine was sitting working at her desk, with a pile of bubble cubes beside her terminal. «Be with you in a minute,» she said, without looking up.
Fine.
She grinned wolfishly, and slipped another cube into the terminal's slot. Your session with Chong went well, then?
Yes. Quite a remarkable man. Makes me feel glad I threw my rank about; someone like me doesn't often get the chance to talk to a living legend.
Make the most of it.
What's that supposed to mean?
Corrine held her hand up, concentrating hard on the terminal's holographic screen. Then she let out a satisfied grunt, and flicked the terminal off. The bubble cube was ejected from its slot. Amazing. The kids born up here just don't have psychological problems. I'm going to have to recommend we release two of our paediatric psychiatrists from their contracts and send them back to Earth. They're just wasting their time in Eden.
Yes, you told me before, the kids who grow up with affinity are better adjusted.
So I did. But the degree to which they've involved themselves in this consensus mentality is astounding. You'd normally expect one or two unable to cope, but we haven't found one single case. Maybe I should keep the psychiatrists on after all, they make a fascinating study.
Sure. You were talking about Wing-Tsit Chong.
She gave a miscreant smile. No. It's you who's interested.
Corrine!
OK. Spare me the third degree. You saw how frail he was?
Yeah.i felt a sudden chill. Not another terminal illness?
Not exactly an illness, just something we all suffer from eventually: old age. He is over ninety, after all. I could keep him alive for several more years, maybe even stretch it out for over a decade. We have the appropriate life-support techniques nowadays, especially for someone as important as him. But he turned down all my offers. I can hardly insist; and he's quite happy doing what he does, sitting and thinking all day long. I hope I go like that when it's my turn; out there in the clean air watching the swans paddle about, rather than in a hospital bed smothering in machinery.
How long has he got?
Sorry, detective, that's something I can't give you a precise answer to. I'd say anything up to a couple of years, providing he doesn't overtax himself. Fortunately Hoi Yin makes sure he doesn't.
Yes,i said emphatically, so I noticed. Do you know how the two of them met?
She's his student, so she always told me. They were both already here when I arrived four years ago. And in all that time she's never been involved with anyone. Surprisingly, because enough have tried. Was that what you came over to ask me about? Gossip on Hoi Yin? There's no need to turn up in person, that's what affinity is for. Bloody marvellous faculty, isn't it? You'll have to practise using it. A lot of people experiment once they've had their symbionts implanted. Sex is a popular field of exploration with the teenagers, and the teenagers at heart.
Sex?
Yes. Affinity is the only true way to find out what it really feels like from the other side.
Christ. As Chief of Police I think it's my duty to access your record; how you were ever granted a practitioner's licence to minister to the sick is beyond me.
Dear oh dear, I do believe our hardened criminologist is blushing. Aren't you the remotest bit curious?
No.
Liar. I was. It's . . . interesting. Knowing exactly how to please your partner.
I'll take your word for it.the damnedest thing was, now she had mentioned it the notion seemed to have lodged in my mind. curiosity is a terrifying weapon.
So if it isn't sex, and it isn't how to meet the divine Miss Hoi Yin socially, what did you come here for?
I went to the window wall behind her, and shut the louvre blinds. Silver-grey light cast dusky shadows across the office.
What are you doing?corrine asked.
Eden, can you perceive the inside of this office?
It is difficult, Chief Parfitt. I see the silhouette of someone standing behind the blinds, that is all.
Thank you."what about hearing? can you hear what's being said in here?»
The question was met with mental silence.
Corrine was giving me a speculative look.
I backed away from the window. «There's a question I've wanted to ask you. I don't know if I'm being paranoid, or if I'm misunderstanding affinity, but I'd value your opinion on this.»
«Go on.»
«You told me that the children share their thoughts quite openly. So that set me to thinking, is it possible for the servitor chimps to develop a communal intelligence?»
«Is it . . . ?» Corrine trailed off in shock, then gave a nervous little laugh. «Are you serious?»
«Very. I was thinking of an insect hive mind. Individually the chimps are always subsentient, but what if all those minds are linked up by affinity and act in tandem? That's a lot of brain power, Corrine. Could it happen?»
She was still staring at me, thunderstruck. «I . . . I don't know. No. No, I'm sure that couldn't happen.» She was trying to sound forceful, as if her own conviction would make it certain. «Intelligence doesn't work like that. There are several marques of hypercube computers which have far more processing power than the human brain, yet they don't achieve sentience when you switch them on. You can run Turing AI programs in them, but that's basically just clever response software.»
«But these are living brains. Quantum wire processors can't have original thoughts, inspiration and intuition; but flesh and blood can. And it's only brain size which is the barrier to achieving full sentience. Doesn't affinity provide the chimps with a perfect method of breaking that barrier? And worse, a secret method.»
«Jesus.» She shook her head in consternation. «Harvey, I can't think of a rational argument to refute it, not straight off the top of my head. But I just can't bring myself to believe it. Let me go through it logically. If the chimps developed intelligence, then why not tell us?»
«Because we'd stop them.»
«You are paranoid. Why would we put a stop to it?»
«Because they are servitors. If we acknowledge their intelligence they stop working for us and start competing against us.»
«What's so terrible about that? And even if the current generation were to stop performing the habitat's manual labour, people like Penny would just design new ones incapable of reaching . . . Oh shit, you think they killed her.»
«She created them; a race born into slavery.»
«No. I said people like her. Penny didn't create them; Pacific Nugene has nothing to do with the servitors. Bringing them to Eden was all Wing-Tsit Chong's idea. It's the Soyana company which supplies JSKP with servitors, they clone the chimps up here, along with all the other affinity capable servitor creatures. Soyana and Chong are responsible for them living in servitude, not Penny.»
«Oh. I should check my facts more thoroughly. Sorry.»
«Hell, Harvey, you frightened me. Don't do things like that.»
I managed a weak smile. «See, people would be afraid if the chimps developed intelligence. There's a healthy xenophobic streak running through all of us.»
«No, you don't. That wasn't xenophobia. Shock, maybe. Once the initial surprise wore off, people would welcome another sentient species. And only someone with a nasty suspicious mind like yours would immediately assume that the chimps would resort to vengeance and murder. You judge too much by your own standards, Harvey.»
«Probably.»
«You know you're completely shattering my illusions about policemen. I thought you were all humourless and unimaginative. God, sentient chimps!»
«It's my job to explore every avenue of possibility.»
«I take it this means you don't have a human suspect yet?»
«I have a lot of people hotly protesting their innocence. Although the way everyone keeps claiming they overlooked Penny Maowkavitz's infamous Attitude because of who she was is beginning to ring hollow. Several individuals had some quite serious altercations with her.»
Corrine's face brightened in anticipation. «Like who?»
«Now, Doctor, the medical profession has its confidentiality; we humble police have our sub judice.»
«You mean you don't have a clue.»
«Correct.»
I wasn't back in the house thirty seconds when the twins cornered me.
«We need you to authorize our implants,» Nicolette said. She held up a hospital administration bubble cube. Her face was guileless and expectant. Nathaniel wasn't much different.
Fathers have very little defence against their children, especially when they expect you to be a combination knight hero and Santa Claus.
I glanced nervously at the kitchen, where I could hear Jocelyn moving about. «I said, next week,» I told Nicolette in a low voice. «This is too soon.»
«You had one,» Nathaniel said.
«I had to have one, it's my job.»
«We need them,» Nicolette insisted. «For school, for talking with our friends. We'll be ostracized again if we're not affinity-capable. Is that what you want?»
«No, of course not.»
«It's Mum, isn't it?» she asked, sorrowfully.
«No. Your mother and I both agree on this.»
«That's not fair,» Nathaniel blurted hotly. «We didn't want to come here. OK, we were wrong. Bringing us to Eden was the greatest thing you've ever done for us. People live here, really live, not like in the arcologies. Now we want to belong, we want to be a part of what's going on here, and you won't let us. Well, just what do you want us to do, Dad? What do you want from us?»
«I simply want you to take a little time to think it through, that's all.»
«What's to think? Affinity isn't a drug, we're not dropping out of school, the Pope's an idiot. So why can't we have the symbiont implants? Just give us one logical reason.»
«Because I don't know if we're staying here,» I bellowed. «I don't know if we're going to be allowed to stay here. Got that?»
I couldn't remember the last time I'd raised my voice to them—years ago, if I ever had.
They both shrank back. The shame from watching them do that was excruciating. My own kids, fearful. Christ.
Nathaniel rallied first, his expression hardening. «I'm not leaving Eden,» he snapped. «You can't make me. I'll divorce you if I have to. But I'm staying.» He very deliberately put his bubble cube down on a small table, then turned round and stalked off to his room.
«Oh, Daddy,» Nicolette said. It was a rebuke that was almost unbearable.
«I did ask you to wait. Was one week so difficult?»
«I know,» she said forlornly. «But there's a girl; Nat met her at the water sports centre.»
«Great. Just great.»
«She's lovely, Dad. Really pretty, and she's older than him. Sixteen.»
«Pension age.»
«Don't you see? She doesn't mind that he's a few months younger, that he's not as sophisticated as she is, she still likes him. That never happened to him before. It couldn't happen to him, not back on Earth.»
Sex, the one subject every parent dreads. I could see Corrine's face, leering knowingly. Eden teenagers use affinity to experiment. Thoroughly.
I must have groaned, because Nicolette was resting her hand on my arm, concern sculpted into her features.
«Dad, are you all right?»
«Bad day at the office, dear. And what about you? Is there a boy at the sports centre?»
Her smile became all sheepish and demure. «Some of them are quite nice, yes. No one special, not yet.»
«Don't worry, they won't leave you alone.»
She blushed, and looked at her feet. «Will you speak to Mum about the symbionts? Please, Dad?»
«I'll speak to her.»
Nicolette stood on tiptoes, and kissed me. «Thanks, Dad. And don't worry about Nat, his hormones are surging, that's all. Time of the month.» She put her bubble cube on the table next to Nathaniel's, and skipped off down the hall to her room.
Why is it that children, the most perfect gift we can ever be given, can hurt more than any physical pain?
I picked the two bubble cubes up and weighed them in my palm. Sex. Oh, Christ.
When I turned round, Jocelyn was standing in the kitchen doorway. «Did you hear all that?»
Her lips quirked in sympathy. «Poor Harvey. Yes, I heard.»
«Divorced by my own son. I wonder if he'll expect alimony?»
«I think you could do with a drink.»
«Do we have any?»
«Yes.»
«Thank Christ for that.»
I flopped down in the lounge's big mock-leather settee, and Jocelyn poured me a glass of white wine. The patio doors were open wide, letting in a balmy breeze which set the big potted angel-trumpet plants swaying.
«Now just relax,» Jocelyn said, and fixed me with a stern look. «I'll get you something to eat later.»
I tasted the wine—sweet but pleasant. Shrugged out of my uniform jacket, and undid my shirt collar. Another sip of the wine.
I fished about in the jacket for my PNC wafer, and accessed the JSKP's personnel file on Hoi Yin, or Chong's bimbo, as Caldarola had called her. I'd been curious about that ever since.
Surprisingly, my authority code rating was only just sufficient to retrieve her file from the company memory core; its security classification was actually higher than Fasholé Nocord's. And there I was thinking my troubles couldn't possibly get any worse.
My fourth day started with a re-run of the third. I drove myself out to Wing-Tsit Chong's lakeside retreat. Eden confirmed Hoi Yin was there, what it neglected to mention was what she was doing.
I parked beside the lonely pagoda and stepped down out of the jeep. The wind chimes made a delicate silver tinkling in the stillness. Chong was nowhere to be seen. Hoi Yin was swimming in the lake, right out in the middle where she was cutting through the dark water with a powerful crawl stroke.
I would like to talk with you, i told her. Now, please.
There was no reply, but she performed a neat flip, legs appearing briefly above the surface, and headed back towards the shore. I saw a dark-purple towel lying on the grass, and walked over to it.
Hoi Yin stood up just before she reached the fringe of water lilies, and started wading ashore. She wasn't wearing a swimming costume. Her hair flowed down her back like a slippery diaphanous cloak.
There's an old story which did the rounds while I was at the Hendon Police College: when Moses came down from the mount carrying the tablets of stone he said, «First the good news, I managed to get Him down to ten commandments. The bad news is, He wouldn't budge on adultery.»
Looking at Hoi Yin as she rose up before me like some elemental naiad, I knew how the waiting crowd must have felt. Men have killed for women far less beautiful than her.
She reached the edge of the lake and I handed her the towel.
Does nakedness bother you, Chief Parfitt? You seem a little tense.she pulled her mass of hair forwards over her shoulder, and began towelling it vigorously.
Depends on the context. But then you'd know all that. Quite the expert, in fact.
She stopped drying her hair, and gave me a chary glance. You have accessed my file.
Yes. My authority code gave me entry, but there aren't many people in Eden who could view it.
You believe I am at fault for not informing you what it contained?
Bloody hell, Hoi Yin, you know you're at fault. Christ Almighty, Penny Maowkavitz designed you for Soyana, using her own ovum as a genetic base. She altered her DNA to give you your looks, and improve your metabolism, and increase your intelligence. It was almost a case of parthenogenesis; genetically speaking, she's somewhere between your mother and your twin. And you think that wasn't important enough to tell me? Get real!
It was not a relationship she chose to acknowledge.
Yeah. I'll bet. Quite a shock for her, I imagine, finding you up here with Chong. She ignored nearly all of Calfornia's biotechnology ethics regulations to work on that contract; and indenture is pretty dodgy legal ground even in Soyana's own arcology. Your file says you were created exclusively as a geisha for all those middle-aged executives, that's why you were given Helen of Troy's beauty. Maowkavitz considered you an interesting organism, nothing more. You were a job that paid well, and twenty-eight years ago Pacific Nugene needed that money quite badly. Everything which came later, her success and fortune, was all founded on the money which came from selling you right at the start, you and Christ knows how many other sisters like you. Then you came back to haunt her.