I didn’t know how to answer. I wasn’t sure if
it was comforting or maddening, learning that Ayo’s program seemed
extreme, even to a surgeon of the Guild. I stared down at the
untouched drink in my hand. The glass was impeccably-chiseled
crystal, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I was a thief and a whore.
I had no claim to such fine items.
“They must be everywhere,” I said at
last.
“Who?”
“The Dollhouse. They’ve stayed hidden all this
time, but with the things they can do?” I shook my head, thinking
how much the mayors in Davlova would have loved to be able to
implant every citizen of the lower city. “Doesn’t it frighten
you?”
Gideon tilted his head, thinking. “The
Dollhouse has a lot of money, and they have a certain amount of
power, especially over the Guild. But as for Deliphine in general?
No, they have far less power than you probably think.”
“Why wouldn’t it be more? If they can force
people into accepting an implant, what’s to stop them from forcing
one into everybody? What’s to stop them from filling the government
with their people and taking over the city? Or the world? Even the
Guild could do that. All it would take would be implants in a few
well-placed people, right?”
“In theory, but not in practice.”
“Why not?”
“Implants may be fairly commonplace, Misha,
but there’s a stigma involved. Those who have them still suffer a
certain amount of prejudice. In most cities, they’re not allowed to
run for office or occupy seats of power. They’re not allowed to be
surgeons or to join the police force. People don’t trust them. They
tend to question whether their motives are pure.” He picked up his
own drink and swirled it in his hand, watching the liquid twirl
around the ice cubes. “Your question is valid, though. Back when
the implants were new, they tried to use them on soldiers. They
thought to make the perfect killing machines.”
“Did it work?”
“Not even close.”
“Why not?”
“An implant can alter behavior. It can
influence the thought process. But it can’t change who that person
really is. That’s the primary difference between what Guild
surgeons do and what the Dollhouse does. We start with people. We
only modify their behavior, but we can’t reach the innermost
thoughts that make each person unique.”
I pondered that, and found myself thinking of
Frey. “You can’t change somebody’s sexual identity.”
“Correct. The Guild tried that, early on, but
the results were poor.”
“What about the Dollhouse?”
“The Dollhouse uses breeding and genetic
manipulation. Response conditioning and the Duo only knows what
kind of magic to make it happen in a limited amount of time. Their
scope is frightening, even to me. But even with everything they do,
they have their limitations. They can create something human-like,
but they can’t capture the essence of a living being. No implant
can mimic the complex nuances that make us who we are: ambition,
subtlety, humor, complex deceptions—”
“Deception?” I interrupted. “But a chip can
make a person lie. I’ve seen it happen.”
Gideon ducked his head in concession. “A
simple lie, yes. But they can’t be programmed to continue the
deception. If you ask them to justify or explain the lie, they
can’t. They’ll divert. They’ll change the subject, often by falling
back on whatever their primary function is. In the case of your
young friend, probably seduction, albeit a clumsy, forthright
attempt. As I said, subtlety is out of our reach. And as for making
soldiers, although an implant can make somebody kill, it can’t make
them into killers.”
I cocked my head in confusion. “What’s the
difference?”
He smiled, leaning back in his chair. He was
enjoying the conversation, I could tell. For all his riches, it
seemed Gefrey Gideon didn’t often get a chance to debate the ethics
of his work. “Let’s say I wanted to kill a man I knew. I could
plant a trigger in Rhianne’s brain, with her none the wiser. Then,
I could invite this man over. I’d have to set the conditions just
right of course. I’d have to make sure Rhianne was prepared, even
if she didn’t know it. Say, ensuring she had a gun in her dress
pocket. And then, as she was serving coffee to the guest, I could
say the word, and she’d pull the gun from her pocket and shoot him,
before she even realized what she was doing.”
“So, you
can
make her kill.”
“Yes, but in the very next moment, the deeper
parts of her brain would rebel, especially in somebody as gentle as
Rhianne. The aftermath could drive her mad.”
“But then you could simply program her to
forget it.”
“True, but that would take a great deal of
time and effort. So, as a one-time assassination attempt, it might
work. But soldiers have to kill again and again, and there’s no
stopping in between to reprogram them. In the end, implant or not,
those men and women will end up going mad. Or, they’ll end up
behaving exactly as they would have without the implant. They’d
begin to question exactly why they were killing people in the first
place.”
“Could you program them to follow a leader
blindly?”
“Ah,” he said, chuckling. “Now you’re getting
into very complicated aspects of the human mind. The truth is, we
don’t know yet. The Guild has no interest in branching into such
horrific arts.”
“And what about the Dollhouse?”
“An interesting question, but luckily for us,
the Dollhouse specializes in sex slaves, not soldiers. I suspect
nobody could afford to pay for a fleet of them.”
Thank the Goddess for that. We fell silent for
a moment, both of us sipping our drinks. It was something I’d never
had before — something sweet and warm — and Gideon was pouring me a
second glass when Rhianne appeared, leading Ayo by the
hand.
“Why did you leave me?” he asked.
“I figured you could use the rest.” And seeing
him now, I thought I was right. He looked better than he had since
we’d left the yacht.
He scowled at me. It was the second time he’d
given me that look — the first being when I’d asked how he’d
learned to swim — and I nearly laughed.
That was, until he spoke. “I couldn’t find
it.”
My body went cold. “Find what?”
“He was trying to go out the front door,”
Rhianne said.
Ayo blinked in confusion. He shook his head.
“I got lost, that’s all. It’s a big house.”
“Well, your timing’s perfect,” Rhianne said,
unaware of my discomfort. “Dinner’s ready.”
They led us into a dining room. It was smaller
than Donato’s had been, and somehow more intimate. Or maybe it was
only that the smell of the food spread across the tabletop was so
inviting. My stomach grumbled as they directed me to my seat. The
table wouldn’t have held more than six. To my surprise, Gideon
didn’t sit at its head. He ceded that spot to Rhianne. I sat to her
left, with Ayo next to me. Gideon sat directly across from
me.
“Don’t be shy,” Gideon said, gesturing to the
food. “Rhianne’s an excellent cook.”
He wasn’t lying. The food was fantastic, and
Rhianne was lovely in every way. She was the perfect hostess,
pleasant and cheerful. She asked Gideon about his day, and then
turned to Ayo and me and began asking politely about our travels
from Davlova. The problem was, that wasn’t something I wanted to
talk about. I didn’t trust Gideon, and I wasn’t about to tell him
about Donato. She seemed to sense my discomfort, and so she shifted
tracks, asking instead about Davlova.
“I’ve always wanted to see it,” she said, as
we finished the meal. “The original home of the High Priestess. It
must be magical.”
I’d certainly never thought of Davlova as
magical.
Gideon smiled at her. “Rhianne has a fondness
for the stories of the Goddess and the priestesses. She’s asked me
to take her to Davlova many times.”
“I hear it’s lovely,” Rhianne said, “with all
that white marble.”
“It can be,” I conceded.
“It’s a backward slum of a city,” Gideon said
gently. “Riddled with crime and corruption.” He glanced at me. “Am
I right?”
He obviously hadn’t heard about the revolution
yet. I could have told him, but it would only have invited more
questions I didn’t want to answer. I said only, “Maybe it will be
different when we get home.”
“And maybe someday Gefrey will take me to see
it anyway.” Rhianne stood and began clearing the dishes. Two
servants appeared from out of nowhere to help. Ayo actually rose to
help too, but she laughingly told him to stay seated. “I’ll be back
with dessert in a flash.”
We watched her go, her shapely backside
swaying as she walked. I had to force myself to turn
away.
“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Gideon
asked.
Ayo spoke before I could. “Is she from the
Dollhouse?”
“Certainly not,” Gideon said with so much
barely disguised disgust that Ayo hung his head as if
slapped.
“But she has an implant,” I said, not caring
if it sounded like an accusation.
“Yes,” Gideon conceded with a tip of his head.
“But that’s a far cry from what the Dollhouse does.”
“But you can still control her
behavior.”
“Yes and no.” He leaned forward in his seat,
placing his elbows on the table as he eyed Ayo. “I get the feeling
he’s not been granted much free will.”
“None at all,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “We’re not all as
depraved as the Dollhouse. I hope you realize that. Some of us
actually try to help people.”
“And how does having a chip in Rhianne’s brain
help her?”
We fell quiet as Rhianne and one of the
servants returned with cake. They also brought coffee and glasses
of sweet liqueur. I took a bit of latter, but declined the rest.
I’d eaten too much of Rhianne’s dinner.
For several minutes, the only sound was of
silverware against the dessert plates. Gideon waited until
Rhianne’s piece of cake was gone before speaking to her.
“Our guests were asking about you, darling.
Why don’t you tell them how we met.”
“Oh.” She blushed prettily and dabbed her lips
with her napkin. “Well, it’s not much of a story, really. I lived
with my parents in Stolty—”
“A village on the outskirts of Deliphine,” her
husband explained.
“And one day Gefrey came by, doing his normal
rotations. He’s a wonderful doctor, you know.” She smiled over at
him, before continuing her story. “My parents were so happy for me,
marrying a rich gentleman.”
“And where are they now?” Gideon asked.
Obviously not because he needed to know, but because he wanted her
to tell us.
“They’re still there. I saw them just last
week.”
He leaned over and kissed her temple. She
practically glowed at the simple gesture. “Run along now,” he told
her. “We have business to discuss.”
“Yes, sir.” She stood, and we all waited in
silence as she gathered dirty dishes and took them from the
room.
Once she was gone, Gideon pulled a slender
cigarette box from his jacket pocket. He offered them to me, and I
declined. I noticed he didn’t offer one to Ayo. He took one for
himself and lit it, then leaned back to regard us, his elbow
propped on the back of his chair.
“Now that you’ve heard her version, let me
tell you the truth. I found Rhianne in the village of Stolty, while
doing my regular clinical rotations. That much is true.” He took a
drag from the cigarette, shaking his head as he blew grey smoke
toward the ceiling. “Her mother died when she was ten. When she was
twelve, her father took her to his bed, in her mother’s place. When
she was fourteen, he began sharing her with his sons. At sixteen,
he was whoring her out to anybody with a bit of coin to trade. When
I found her, she was seventeen, pregnant with the bastard child of
only the Duo knows who. Her father had kicked her out because he
could no longer make any money off of her. He told her to come back
after she’d disposed of the brat — his words, not mine — and maybe
he’d take her back.
“She’d come down with a cold, and hadn’t had
much to eat. But under it all, I saw her beauty. I saw what she
could be, if given the chance.”
“Your whore?”
He sighed in frustration and ground his
barely-smoked cigarette out in a saucer. “She knew what I was
offering. I was quite clear what would be expected of her. I told
her she’d be here to serve me, both domestically and sexually.
She’d have a nice house. A warm bed. I assured her that I could
even make her enjoy it. You know what she said?”
I had no answer. I shook my head.
“She said, ‘I don’t need to enjoy it. I only
need to know my daddy will never grunt away on top of me again.’
When it was all said and done, she asked for three things.” He
ticked them off on his fingers. “She wanted to believe her mother
was still alive. She wanted to forget what a cruel, terrible man
her father had been. And she wanted to believe that I love
her.”