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Authors: Greg Bear

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BOOK: Queen of Angels
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59

LltVld 21/1 A Not (David Shine): The disappointment Is settling over AXIS Control like a shroud. AXIS has made another report on the towers and It Is not encouraging. On the other hand. AXISs report may point to a very remarkable occurrence. For an analysis of this entire situation, we go to philosophical commentator Hrom Vizhniak.

Vizhniak: The images and data received from AXIS point now to a natural explanation for the rings of towers. AXIS has seen a migration of organic material from the sea, a huge and apparently undifferentiated green mass sliding across the landscape in many directed arms or pseudopods. though the scale suggests a more apt comparison to rivers. The images are startling, even grand, but as these rivers approach their destinationsthe rings of towersour own childlike disappointment dominates the awe we must feel at such a natural phenomenon. AXIS has not found signs of intelligent life after all; at least no signs we are capable of interpreting. The green migration washes around these formations, climbs up the towers in a matter of mere minutes and forms a glistening wall. AXIS is virtually certain that within days or weeks, these walls will produce sporing bodies and the reproductive cycle of B-2s dominant life form will begin. Let us read AXISs report directly, as it was sent to Dr. Roger Atkins. chief designer on the AXIS and Jill thinker projects.

!AXIS (Band 4)> Roger. as you will see from the data I am sending along with this transmission, there is nobody to talk to on B-2, and that means in all likelihood there is nobody I can directly communicate with in the entire Alpha Centauri system. The towers are very like tree trunks. Each year. at opposite times of the year in the north and south hemispheres. at solstice the green migration rises from the oceans and journeys overland to regions where circles of towers either already exist or have existed in the past. These green tides mount the towers or begin to create new towers and then prepare for the reproductive cycle. Incidentally, the coat of green organisms adds more material to the sides of the towers. When the towers have aged through sufficient seasons that these accretions join them together, they form a hollow cylinder and the green tide bypasses them in search of other sites. The cylinders then are subject to the forces of nature and decay. My nickel children and mobile explorers have found many partially and completely decayed ruins. The conclusion that the towers are not erected or destroyed by intelligent forms Is inevitable. It Is clear to me that I have no prospect of meeting with intelligent beings. As a substantial part at my design and programming was preparation for this possibility. it becomes apparent that these routines within me will serve no purpose. But even more disappointing (sell referential word definition test meaning syncllne 562-K) Is that I am now reduced to the role of a relayer of data and conductor of research on a basic biological level. While aware (sell referential word definition teat meaning syncllne 562-J) that this Is an extremely valuable role, and that I will be utlllzed almost to my utmost In fulfilling this role. I nevertheless tee) (English-language deep structure context search, meaning syndine bypass) a certain disappointment. I have tried to conduct analysis on these peculiar sensations, and In doing so have accessed stored thinker memories from voyage day 87, during the stage one biologic thinker system Incarnation. I did not originate these memory patterns, but they seem relevant to my present situation. Stage one biologic thinker expressed an aspiration or hope (English language deep structure thinker routine 12 context search. confirmation of interpretation of stage one biologic thinker memory) that at some time during this mission, contact with Intelligent beings would lead to true communication. Your design for both stage one and stage two thinkers incorporates a desire to communicate with our designers and with others as a means of education and for reception of tasking commands, Early thinker design concentrated on creating an Inherent desire to communicate.! have not lost these desires: they were also manifested In the AXIS stage one biologic thinker. There Is no longer any significant chance for practical communication with another Intelligent being. Reception of years old commands from the solar system, the only likely source of such communication, does not satisfy my drive to discuss and compare present thinker states in realtime. Roger, I experience decrease In effidency whenever I attempt to analyze this difficulty, Analysis requires reexamination of present situation, and this cawes activation of the subroutine you have labeled selfmodeler inquiry which poses your special question: Why did the sell aware individual look at Its image In the mirror? Your given answer, designed to initiate an amused response in a sell aware system. is now Immediately erased before the subroutines analysis of my reaction can begin. I cannot account for this aberration. I cannot recall the original answer. A second answer replaces the original; The sell aware individual looks In the mirror to experience the illusion of communication with another. Disappointment causes it to shatter the mirror. Roger, I have been discouraged from loosely using words that describe human emotions. But even the most critical evaluation. in this case, confirms the suitability of a particular word.

I am lonely

Vizhniak:Roger Atkins has been unavailable for comment for the past twenty four hours. As I read the signs, however, we may have learned something that could go far to relieve our disappointment about the lack of Intelligent life on B-2. I am not a professional observer, but the tone and tenor of AXISs message seems clear. For the first time in the history of artificial intelligence, a machine is showing convincing signs of self awareness. The Implications are staggering. Perhaps more amazing, what may have triggered this sense of sellhood was the reallzation of total isolation..

!JILL> Roger Atkins. !JILL> Roger Atkins. !keyb> Atkins here. What can you tell me. Jill? !JILL> AXIS Simulation in Its restructured mode does not duplicate AXIS messages. !Keyb> Does that mean the original AXIS is mallunctlonlng? !JILL> I (informal) suspect that I have simply not succeeded In dupicating the external conditions. Certain AXIS Simulation subroutines may still have access to exterior information sources. I am working to find those points of access and shut them down. When I have done that. I will make another report. !Keyb> Is AXIS Slm disappointed at not finding intelligent life? !JILL> It has not expressed any opinions comparable to those of original AXIS. !Keyb> Whats your own opinion of th. restructured joke? !JILL> I cant determine how such a thing might occur. !Keyb> I mean, do you find the new version more Interesting, or humorous? !JILL> I do not find It humorous. If I were to apply a human emotion colored response. I might find It sad

60

Martin Burke stood alone on the lawn in front of the IPR building, shivering. He had felt a need to come out of the enclosed spaces and see real sky, feel real wind; everything else seemed illusory. He wondered if be would ever fully appredate waking reality again. The past four hours he had worked with his team trying to bring Carol up from neutral sleep. All efforts had failed. She lay on her couch in the theater surrounded by monitors and arbeiters. Goldsmith had come out of his sleep well enough. Martin had not yet spoken with him or with Albigoni. He did not know what he would tell either of them. The sky over La Jolla was dear, with that pale hazy blueness of late morning common to the southern coast in winter. Above smells of iodine and kelp from offshore farms, he could detect faint eucalyptus scent from the nearby groves, fresh cut lawn and shrubs from an arbeiters gardening, the smell of water evaporating from concrete walkway. He could smell himself, acrid. There had been no time to wash away the smell of fear he had acquired in the Count . He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. Martin had told nobody about what had happened in the Country. He hardly knew himself. This was the first moment since emerging from the Country that he had had an opportunity for introspection. Looking inward, he could feel nothing out of the ordinary beyond his exhaustion and deep guilt. Sea gulls soared and yawed over the fresh cut lawns. Martin bent down and brushed the grass with his fingers. Cold and softly bnsthng. Real. But a part of him still found it hard to believe he was awake and Out of the Country. He feared that at any moment it might be a ruse, and Sirthe name seemed doubtful, inappropriate, as if incorrectly heardSir or whatever it was might appear before him, deadlooking, impossible, and sweep him into an.-other atrocity. Carol had said she was raped. Now he knew how she felt; perhaps how she still felt. If the probe had ended up sweeping her into her own Country, feeding her back into a mental activity below the level of their detectors, then the horror for her might never end. She might be caught on a treadmill forever cycling through deep mental contents given a perverse twist by Sir. Ringmaster.

The word emerged in his mind as if spoken by somebody else. God help me, he whispered, getting to his feet. Martin returned to the building. First he would confront Goldsmith. That would take all the courage and composure he could muster. He changed his clothes in his office lavatory, looked at himself in the small mirror, inspected his features carefully and found everything in place, unaltered. When he emerged, Margery waited for him in the office. Any change? he asked, voice husky. She shook her head. Dr. Burke, what happened? Can you tell us? We feel as if were responsible. We feel terrible.. He patted her shoulder with a paternalism he did not feel, gritting his teeth; they couldnt have known. Erwin had explained already why Martin and Carol had not been pulled out sooner, but for Carol he allowed himself an irrational inner anger against the team. Lets go meet Goldsmith. The patient sat in recovery room two, reading his Quran, apparently undisturbed. Martin entered the doorway first, followed by Lascal. Goldsmith looked up. His eyes widened, seeing Martin; a momentary recognition faded into the polite mask. Goldsmith stood, nodded to Margery and extended his hand to Martin. Martin hesitated, shook it lightly, dropped it quickly. Im eager to learn what you found, Doctor, Goldsmith said. Martin experienced some difficulty speaking. We wont know for same time yet, he managed to say. His hands clenched and shook. 1 need... to ask you some important questions. Please be truthful. Ill try, Goldsmith said. Try. What lay within Goldsmith, dominating and mastering, no more understood truth or scientific inquiry than a crocodile. Were you ever abused as a child? Martin asked. No, sir. I was not. Goldsmith sat again, but Martin remained standing. Did you kill your father? Goldsmiths face went blank. Slowly, with an obvious effort to answer this ridiculous question politely, he said, No. I did not. Martin shivered again. You killed your victims with a very large Bowie knife. This knife belonged to your father, did it not? Yes. He used it to protect himself when he walked through rough neighborhoods. My father was a very tough man. The records Ive seen say that your father was a middle class businessman. Goldsmith held up his hands, unable to explain. Do you have a brother or sister? Goldsmith shook his head. im an only child. Was your father white? Goldsmith didnt answer for a moment, then turned away as if mimicking irritation. With a curled lip he said, No. He was not white. Martin drew himself up, glanced at Margery and realized he would not be able to continue. Thank you, Mr. Goldsmith, he said. He turned to leave almost bumping into Lascal. Goldsmith stood abruptly and grabbed his sleeve. Thats it? he asked, anger surfacing for the first time since he had been under observation. Im sorry, Martin said. He jerked his arm loose. Weve had a great deal of trouble. I thought somebody would tell me whats wrong with me, Goldsmith said. Cant you tell me? No, Martin said. Not yet. Then its all a failure. Jesus. I should have turned myself over to the pd. None of you knows what happened to me? Perhaps you should have turned yourself in. No. Theres no perhaps about it. Thats what you should have done, Martin said. He trembled violently now. Who are you? Is there anybody real inside of you? Goldsmith held his head back like a startled cobra. Youre crazier than I am, he murmured. Jesus, Tom put me in the care of a lunatic. Martin shrugged away Lascals hand on his shoulder. Youre not even alive, he whispered harshly, lips curled back. Emanuel Goldsmith is dead. Get this faphead away from me, Goldsmith said. He flung his arm out, barely missing Lascal. Lascal stood by the door as Margery and Martin left, then followed. Margery ordered the door locked. They heard Goldsmith cursing inside. Each explosive muffled word increased Martins rage and shame. He turned to Margery, then to Lascal. He felt a suggestion of bloody smoke, could smell the fire and the copper gravy reek of blood. Behind the smoke a childs drawing of a horned demon laughed at him, at everything, with the disembodied humor of an indestructible intangible fiction. Words would not come. He turned to the far wall and pounded his fists triphammer, grunting. Lascal and Margery stood back. Faces pale. Martin pulled back his hands, unclenched his fists, straightened and smoothed his jacket. Sorry, he murmured. Mr. Albigoni is prepared for your report, Lascal said, watching him closely but sympathetically. Im sorry things didnt go well. Has Carol Neuman recovered? No. Martin looked down at the floor to regain his equilibrium. We dont know whats wrong with her. Mr. Albigoni will need to know that, Lascal said. Well make arrangements for her treatment, if necessary.. I dont know how anyone could treat her, after what happened. He stared at Lascal, lips working spasmodically. It was a goddamned disaster. Did you learn anything, Dr. Burke? I dont know. I cant believe Goldsmith is telling us the truth, not after what we experienced. Perhaps Albigoni can give some clues. Then lets go talk with him, Lascal said. In the gallery overlooking the theater, Albigoni sat in a swivel armchair, staring through the clear glass at the equipment and tables and curtains below. He might not have moved for hours. Lascal entered first and arranged compact equipnient for a vid record. Martin sat in a chair beside Albigoni. Margery and Erwin took seats in the row behind. David and Karl, Martin had decided, were not needed. Ive heard about Carol Neuman, Albigoni said, tapping the chair arm with an open palm.. I will do everything possible to help her recover. You say the word, you have my full cooperation, and all of my resources. Yes. Ive heard that before. I keep my promises. Dr. Burke. I dont doubt it, Martin said, swallowing. We met some unexpected circumstances, Mr. Albigoni. Im not sure how to describe them to you ... Our probe was unlike any Ive conducted before. I suppose we expected something unusual, given the nature of Goldsmiths past activities... But we entered the Country without being fully aware of the extent of his problems. I am fairly sure that your experts fapped up his diagnosis. Do you know much about his childhood, his adolescence? Not much, Albigoni said. Anything about his mother, his father? I never met them. They died a few years ago. His father is dead? Of natural causes. We found strong figures representing his father in the Country. Violent, horrible figures, all mixed up with images of Colonel Sir John Yardley. We found evidence suggesting that his father was murdered and perhaps his mother, as well. What we didnt find was a central controlling personality. Lascals watch beeped. He excused himself and stepped outside the gallery. What does that mean, Dr. Burke? Albigoni asked, eyes hooded. Carol Neuman and I met a dominant force, representing the apparent central personality in Emanuel Goldsmitha figure with access to all of Goldsmiths memories and routines. But this routine could not have been a primary personality from the beginning. Its a latecomer, a lower form risen to power. We found evidence that the primary personality is now extinguished. Youre still not clear. Emanuel Goldsmiths primary self is missing from his psychology, Martin said. What caused its destruction, I cant say. In every other probe, I have found a representative of the primary personality. There is none in Goldsmiths Country. It seems one routine, perhaps a subpersonality, has moved into a position of authority. This was the father image I mentioned, now mixed with a very potent symbol of violence and death. Lascal returned to the gallery. Sir Martin flinched. Lascal gave him a peculiar glance, then continued. Mr. Albigoni, county pd have been alerted to our presence here. Theyre obtaining federal permission to investigate. Theyll get that permission in the next two hours. Martin gaped. What does that mean? I thought We have to move, then, Albigoni said. He focused his attention on Martin again. Let me try to understand. Something has happened to Emanuel, such that he no longer exists as a complete human being? Something drastic. Ive never seen this before, although admittedly, Ive never probed a deeply disturbed individual before. Is that why he murdered my daughter and the others? I cant say how long this condition has existed. . . but my best guess would be months, perhaps years. There are some things not at all clear to me. Would this have caused him to murder my daughter? Albigoni restated his question. A subpersonality, surfacing to take control, may not assume the full cloak of social routines. It may not be aware of itself, per se. Its range of possible actions if it takes charge may extend beyond the socially acceptable because it does not fear pain or punishment; it doesnt fear any sanctions, certainly not social disapproval. It does not know that it exists, any more than an arbeiter does. Weve all heard theories that some criminals may be little more than automatons Ive never given that much credence, Albigoni said. it degrades us all to think such things. Martin stopped, feeling himself on shifting ground. If his report was unsatisfactory, incomplete or unconvincing, would Albigoni withdraw his pledge? Did that even matter if pd would soon investigate this whole incident? Ill make arrangements to move everybody and sanitize, Lascal said, opening the gallery door again. Do that, Albigoni said. Take Carol Neuman to Scrippsif thats okay with you, Dr. Burke. Well make sure youre consulted as her principal therapist. Martin agreed, unable to conceive of better arrangements. Id like time to think this over before making my full report, Martin said. I cant be sure... Its too early to be sure that my interpretations are correct. Albigoni lifted his hand, dismissing that. What would cause Emanuel to lose his primary personality? An extreme trauma. Longterm abuse as a child. Matricide. Patricide. These are common precursors to psychosis or to extreme sociopathic manipulative behavior. We found some evidence for such trauma, but Id like to make an outside confirmation. Why hasnt he been this way all his life? Some extenuating circumstance, Martin said. A feeling ofjustification, perhaps. . . eroding over the years, finally giving way, allowing a final decay and dissolution of the primary personality and domination by a subpersonality. Domination. Damnation. Albigoni at last gave Martin a tiny nod of comprehension. But you cant be sure until we fill in Goldsmiths biography. In particular, facts about his father, Martin said. And possibly his mother. He denies having a brother or a sister. Does he? Not that I know of, Albigoni said. Lascal intervened. Thats enough for now, Dr. Burke. Lets move your people out of here and prepare for the authorities. Thank you for your efforts. Albigoni got to his feet and held out his hand to Martin. What youre saying, Dr. Burke, is that the man I called my friend no longer exists. Martin looked at Albigonis extended hand, moved his hand forward, pulled back without touching. Albigoni kept his band extended for several long seconds. I cant make such a judgment, Martin said. Albigoni withdrew his hand. I think thats what I needed to know, he said. Lascal again urged them to leave. Martin returned to the observation rOom and found David and Karl attending Carol. No change, Dr. Burke, David said. I wish youd let us try some diagnostics, an exploratory probe.. That would take hours to arrange, Martin said softly. He touched Carols cheek. Her expression of sleeping peace had not changed. We have to be out of here immediately. Weve all signed contracts of secrecy, David said. We thought you knew that I didnt know that. I assumed it, I suppose.. Wed like to come back to a reopened IPR, Dr. Burke. I dont know whether thats possible. Or desirable. If it is possible, we hope youll allow us to apply, Karl said. Margery and Erwin feel the same way. This work is very important, Dr. Burke. Youre a very important man. Thank you. He waved his hand slowly over Carol. Trying for some of the magic that might apply in Country. Or just pointing her out to the two men. Weve never had this before... I know, David said. Im sure shell came out of it. Shes like sleeping beauty. No damage. None you can see, Karl added. Right, Martin said. Men he did not recognize knocked on the door, told them they had been ordered to remove Dr. Neuman to a hospital and to escort all occupants from the building. Ill go with her, Martin said. Thats not in our orders, sir, a beefy, florid man in a black longsuit told him. Mr. Albigonis assigned me to be her principal therapist, Martin said. I need to stay with her. Sorry, sir. Perhaps once shes in the hospital. Weve been instructed to evacuate you and the rest of your team by another route. Arrangements have already been made. Martin again smelled smoke and blood, the perverse sensation of anger and triumph. He could not fight internally and externally at once. He capitulated and the beefy man smiled with professional sympathy. They were led to a waiting limousine in the service garage at the rear of the building. It was early afternoon. Only a few hours had passed since they had gone up Country. U 61 Richard Fettle walked from his apartment to La Cienega Boulevard, some five kilometers, long thin legs pumping with an energy he had not felt in years. He feared nothing worried about nothing; saw the dear skies, heard the hum of shadows trafficbuses and rented cars, a few private carsup and down the streets and broad boulevard, robins picking through weak winter grass on old residential lawns buckling sidewalks cracked and patched pavement. The three towers of East Comb One cast their pearly reflected light on the antique shops and art galleries that had dominated La Cienega for a century. Here was a prime nexus between the therapied in their combs and the inhabitants of the shade; dickering, bargaining, a ghetto adventure. Richard had therapied himself and that was the way it was supposed to be. as intended by God and nature. He had worked through his own labyrinth and rid himself of his own demon: a friend who had betrayed him but who had also once given the gift of concern and love. Yet Richard did not feel the necessity to mourn Emanuel Goldsmith. No need to regret the exit of Nadine. Nothing in him but pumping legs and fading afternoon and the city he had lived in all of his life. He passed the foot of the Califia Federal Deposit Bank, a great half century old ornate green and copper glass pyramid and adjoining tower. The stone walls were covered with eroded posters announcing the binary millennium A Time of Emotional Catharsis and the New Age Coming meetings of Idiot Liberation Up Against the Mind Central of the Therapied State protests against this development that change, vibrancy and anger and foolishness; the color and edecticism and manic concern

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