Xenocide - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
So now the killing starts. Amusing that your your people started it, not the humans. people started it, not the humans. Your people started it, too, when you had your wars with the humans. people started it, too, when you had your wars with the humans. We started it, but they ended it. How do they manage it, these humans-- beginning each time so innocently, yet always ending up with the most blood on their hands?
w.a.n.g-mu watched the words and numbers moving through the display above her mistress's terminal. Qing-jao was asleep, breathing softly on her mat not far away. w.a.n.g-mu had also slept for a time, but something had wakened her. A cry, not far off; a cry of pain perhaps. It had been part of w.a.n.g-mu's dream, but when she awoke she heard the last of the sound in the air. It was not Qing-jao's voice. A man perhaps, though the sound was high. A wailing sound. It made w.a.n.g-mu think of death.
But she did not get up and investigate. It was not her place to do that; her place was with her mistress at all times, unless her mistress sent her away. If Qing-jao needed to hear the news of what had happened to cause that cry, another servant would come and waken w.a.n.g-mu, who would then waken her mistress-- for once a woman had a secret maid, and until she had a husband, only the hands of the secret maid could touch her without invitation.
So w.a.n.g-mu lay awake, waiting to see if someone came to tell Qing-jao why a man had wailed in such anguish, near enough to be heard in this room at the back of the house of Han Fei-tzu. While she waited, her eyes were drawn to the moving display as the computer performed the searches Qing-jao had programmed.
The display stopped moving. Was there a problem? w.a.n.g-mu rose up to lean on one arm; it brought her close enough to read the most recent words of the display. The search was completed. And this time the report was not one of the curt messages of failure: NOT FOUND. NO INFORMATION. NO CONCLUSION. This time the message was a report.
w.a.n.g-mu got up and stepped to the terminal. She did as Qing-jao had taught her, pressing the key that logged all current information so the computer would guard it no matter what happened. Then she went to Qing-jao and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Qing-jao came awake almost at once; she slept alertly. "The search has found something," said w.a.n.g-mu.
Qing-jao shed her sleep as easily as she might shrug off a loose jacket. In a moment she was at the terminal taking in the words there.
"I've found Demosthenes," she said.
"Where is he?" asked w.a.n.g-mu, breathless. The great Demosthenes-- no, the terrible Demosthenes. My mistress wishes me to think of him as an enemy. But the the Demosthenes, in any case, the one whose words had stirred her so when she heard her father reading them aloud. "As long as one being gets others to bow to him because he has the power to destroy them and all they have and all they love, then all of us must be afraid together." w.a.n.g-mu had overheard those words almost in her infancy-- she was only three years old-- but she remembered them because they had made such a picture in her mind. When her father read those words, she had remembered a scene: her mother spoke and Father grew angry. He didn't strike her, but he did tense his shoulder and his arm jerked a bit, as if his body had meant to strike and he had only with difficulty contained it. And when he did that, though no violent act was committed, w.a.n.g-mu's mother bowed her head and murmured something, and the tension eased. w.a.n.g-mu knew that she had seen what Demosthenes described: Mother had bowed to Father because he had the power to hurt her. And w.a.n.g-mu had been afraid, both at the time and again when she remembered; so as she heard the words of Demosthenes she knew that they were true, and marveled that her father could say those words and even agree with them and not realize that he had acted them out himself. That was why w.a.n.g-mu had always listened with great interest to all the words of the great-- the terrible-- Demosthenes, because great or terrible, she knew that he told the truth. Demosthenes, in any case, the one whose words had stirred her so when she heard her father reading them aloud. "As long as one being gets others to bow to him because he has the power to destroy them and all they have and all they love, then all of us must be afraid together." w.a.n.g-mu had overheard those words almost in her infancy-- she was only three years old-- but she remembered them because they had made such a picture in her mind. When her father read those words, she had remembered a scene: her mother spoke and Father grew angry. He didn't strike her, but he did tense his shoulder and his arm jerked a bit, as if his body had meant to strike and he had only with difficulty contained it. And when he did that, though no violent act was committed, w.a.n.g-mu's mother bowed her head and murmured something, and the tension eased. w.a.n.g-mu knew that she had seen what Demosthenes described: Mother had bowed to Father because he had the power to hurt her. And w.a.n.g-mu had been afraid, both at the time and again when she remembered; so as she heard the words of Demosthenes she knew that they were true, and marveled that her father could say those words and even agree with them and not realize that he had acted them out himself. That was why w.a.n.g-mu had always listened with great interest to all the words of the great-- the terrible-- Demosthenes, because great or terrible, she knew that he told the truth.
"Not he," said Qing-jao. "Demosthenes is a woman."
The idea took w.a.n.g-mu's breath away. So! A woman all along. No wonder I heard such sympathy in Demosthenes; she is a woman, and knows what it is to be ruled by others every waking moment. She is a woman, and so she dreams of freedom, of an hour in which there is no duty waiting to be done. No wonder there is revolution burning in her words, and yet they remain always words and never violence. But why doesn't Qing-jao see this? Why has Qing-jao decided we must both hate Demosthenes?
"A woman named Valentine," said Qing-jao; and then, with awe in her voice, "Valentine Wiggin, born on Earth more than three-- more than three thousand years ago."
"Is she a G.o.d, to live so long?"
"Journeys. She travels from world to world, never staying anywhere more than a few months. Long enough to write a book. All the great histories under the name Demosthenes were written by that same woman, and yet n.o.body knows it. How can she not be famous?"
"She must want to hide," said w.a.n.g-mu, understanding very well why a woman might want to hide behind a man's name. I'd do it too, if I could, so that I could also journey from world to world and see a thousand places and live ten thousand years.
"Subjectively she's only in her fifties. Still young. She stayed on one world for many years, married and had children. But now she's gone again. To--" Qing-jao gasped.
"Where?" asked w.a.n.g-mu.
"When she left her home she took her family with her on a stars.h.i.+p. They headed first toward Heavenly Peace and pa.s.sed near Catalonia, and then they set out on a course directly toward Lusitania!"
w.a.n.g-mu's first thought was: Of course! That's why Demosthenes has such sympathy and understanding for the Lusitanians. She has talked to them-- to the rebellious xenologers, to the pequeninos themselves. She has met them and knows knows that they are raman! that they are raman!
Then she thought: If the Lusitania Fleet arrives there and fulfills its mission, Demosthenes will be captured and her words will end.
And then she realized something that made this all impossible. "How could she be on Lusitania, when Lusitania has destroyed its ansible? Wasn't that the first thing they did when they went into revolt? How can her writings be reaching us?"
Qing-jao shook her head. "She hasn't reached Lusitania yet. Or if she has, it's only in the last few months. She's been in flight for the last thirty years. Since before the rebellion. She left before the rebellion."
"Then all her writings have been done in flight?" w.a.n.g-mu tried to imagine how the different timeflows would be reconciled. "To have written so much since the Lusitania Fleet left, she must have--"
"Must have been spending every waking moment on the stars.h.i.+p, writing and writing and writing," said Qing-jao. "And yet there's no record of her stars.h.i.+p having sent any signals anywhere, except for the captain's reports. How has she been getting her writings distributed to so many different worlds, if she's been on a stars.h.i.+p the whole time? It's impossible. There'd be some record of the ansible transmissions, somewhere somewhere."
"It's always the ansible," said w.a.n.g-mu. "The Lusitania Fleet stops sending messages, and her stars.h.i.+p must be sending them but it isn't. Who knows? Maybe Lusitania is sending secret messages, too." She thought of The Life of Human The Life of Human.
"There can't be any secret messages," said Qing-jao. "The ansible's philotic connections are permanent, and if there's any transmission at any frequency, it would be detected and the computers would keep a record of it."
"Well, there you are," said w.a.n.g-mu. "If the ansibles are all still connected, and the computers don't have a record of transmissions, and yet we know that there have have been transmissions because Demosthenes has been writing all these things, then the records must be wrong." been transmissions because Demosthenes has been writing all these things, then the records must be wrong."
"There is no way for anyone to hide an ansible transmission," said Qingjao. "Not unless they were right in there at the very moment the transmission was received, switching it away from the normal logging programs and-- anyway, it can't be done. A conspirator would have to be sitting at every ansible all the time, working so fast that--"
"Or they could have a program that did it automatically."
"But then we'd know about the program-- it would be taking up memory, it would be using processor time."
"If somebody could make a program to intercept the ansible messages, couldn't they also make it hide itself so it didn't show up in memory and left no record of the processor time it used?"
Qing-jao looked at w.a.n.g-mu in anger. "Where did you learn so many questions about computers and you still don't know that things like that can't be done!"
w.a.n.g-mu bowed her head and touched it to the floor. She knew that humiliating herself like this would make Qing-jao ashamed of her anger and they could talk again.
"No," said Qing-jao, "I had no right to be angry, I'm sorry. Get up, w.a.n.g-mu. Keep asking questions. Those are good questions. It might be possible because you can think of it, and if you can think of it maybe somebody could do it. But here's why I think it's impossible: Because how could anybody install such a masterful program --on it would have to be on every computer that processes ansible communications anywhere. Thousands and thousands of them. And if one breaks down and another one comes online, it would have to download the program into the new computer almost instantly. And yet it could never put itself into permanent storage or it would be found there; it must keep moving itself all the time, dodging, staying out of the way of other programs, moving into and out of storage. A program that could do all that would have to be-- intelligent, it would have to be trying trying to hide and figuring out new ways to do it all the time or we would have noticed it by now and we never have. There's no program like that. How would anyone have ever programmed it? How could it have started? And look, w.a.n.g-mu-- this Valentine Wiggin who writes all of the Demosthenes things-- she's been hiding herself for thousands of years. If there's a program like that it must have been in existence the whole time. It wouldn't have been made up by the enemies of Starways Congress because there to hide and figuring out new ways to do it all the time or we would have noticed it by now and we never have. There's no program like that. How would anyone have ever programmed it? How could it have started? And look, w.a.n.g-mu-- this Valentine Wiggin who writes all of the Demosthenes things-- she's been hiding herself for thousands of years. If there's a program like that it must have been in existence the whole time. It wouldn't have been made up by the enemies of Starways Congress because there wasn't wasn't a Starways Congress when Valentine Wiggin started hiding who she was. See how old these records are that gave us her name? She hasn't been openly linked to Demosthenes since these earliest reports from-- from a Starways Congress when Valentine Wiggin started hiding who she was. See how old these records are that gave us her name? She hasn't been openly linked to Demosthenes since these earliest reports from-- from Earth Earth. Before stars.h.i.+ps. Before ..."
Qing-jao's voice trailed off, but w.a.n.g-mu already understood, had reached this conclusion before Qing-jao vocalized it. "So if there's a secret program in the ansible computers," said w.a.n.g-mu, "it must have been there all along. Right from the start."
"Impossible," whispered Qing-jao. But since everything else was impossible, too, w.a.n.g-mu knew that Qing-jao loved this idea, that she wanted to believe it because even though it was impossible at least it was conceivable conceivable, it could be imagined and therefore it might just be real. And I conceived of it, thought w.a.n.g-mu. I may not be G.o.dspoken but I'm intelligent too. I understand things. Everybody treats me like a foolish child, even Qing-jao, even though Qing-jao knows how quickly I learn, even though she knows that I think of ideas that other people don't think of-- even she despises me. But I am as smart as anyone, Mistress! I am as smart as you, even though you never notice that, even though you will think you thought of this all by yourself. Oh, you'll give me credit for it, but it will be like this: w.a.n.g-mu said something and it got me thinking and then I realized the important idea. It will never be: w.a.n.g-mu was the one who understood this and explained it to me so I finally understood it. Always as if I were a stupid dog who happens to bark or yip or scratch or snap or leap, just by coincidence, and it happens to turn your mind toward the truth. I am not a dog. I understood. When I asked you those questions it was because I already realized the implications. And I realize even more than you have said so far-- but I must tell you this by asking, by pretending not to understand, because you are G.o.dspoken and a mere servant could never give ideas to one who hears the voices of the G.o.ds.
"Mistress, whoever controls this program has enormous power, and yet we've never heard of them and they've never used this power until now."
"They've used it," said Qing-jao. "To hide Demosthenes' true ident.i.ty. This Valentine Wiggin is very rich, too, but her owners.h.i.+ps are all concealed so that no one realizes how much she has, that all of her possessions are part of the same fortune."
"This powerful program has dwelt in every ansible computer since starflight began, and yet all it ever did was hide this woman's fortune?"
"You're right," said Qing-jao, "it makes no sense at all. Why didn't someone with this much power already use it to take control of things? Or perhaps they did. They were there before Starways Congress was formed, so maybe they... but then why would they oppose Congress now?"
"Maybe," said w.a.n.g-mu, "maybe they just don't care care about power." about power."
"Who doesn't?"
"Whoever controls this secret program."
"Then why would they have created the program in the first place? w.a.n.gmu, you aren't thinking."
No, of course not, I never think. w.a.n.g-mu bowed her head.
"I mean you are are thinking, but you're not thinking of thinking, but you're not thinking of this this: n.o.body would create such a powerful program unless they wanted that much power-- I mean, think of what this program does, what it can can do-- intercept every message from the fleet and make it look like none were ever sent! Bring Demosthenes' writings to every settled planet and yet hide the fact that do-- intercept every message from the fleet and make it look like none were ever sent! Bring Demosthenes' writings to every settled planet and yet hide the fact that those those messages were sent! They could do anything, they could alter any message, they could spread confusion everywhere or fool people into thinking-- into thinking there's a war, or give them orders to do messages were sent! They could do anything, they could alter any message, they could spread confusion everywhere or fool people into thinking-- into thinking there's a war, or give them orders to do anything anything, and how would anybody know that it wasn't true? If they really had so much power, they'd use it! They would!"
"Unless maybe the programs don't want to be used that way."
Qing-jao laughed aloud. "Now, w.a.n.g-mu, that was one of our first lessons about computers. It's all right for the common people to imagine that computers actually decide things, but you and I know that computers are only servants, they only do what they're told, they never actually want want anything themselves." anything themselves."
w.a.n.g-mu almost lost control of herself, almost flew into a rage. Do you think that never wanting anything is a way that computers are similar similar to servants? Do you really think that we servants do only what we're told and never want anything ourselves? Do you think that just because the G.o.ds don't make us rub our noses on the floor or wash our hands till they bleed that we don't have any to servants? Do you really think that we servants do only what we're told and never want anything ourselves? Do you think that just because the G.o.ds don't make us rub our noses on the floor or wash our hands till they bleed that we don't have any other other desires? desires?
Well, if computers and servants are just alike, then it's because computers have have desires, not because servants desires, not because servants don't don't have them. Because we want. We yearn. We hunger. What we never do is act on those hungers, because if we did you G.o.dspoken ones would send us away and find others more obedient. have them. Because we want. We yearn. We hunger. What we never do is act on those hungers, because if we did you G.o.dspoken ones would send us away and find others more obedient.
"Why are you angry?" asked Qing-jao.
Horrified that she had let her feelings show on her face, w.a.n.g-mu bowed her head. "Forgive me," she said.
"Of course I forgive you, I just want to understand you as well," said Qing-jao. "Were you angry because I laughed at you? I'm sorry-- I shouldn't have. You've only been studying with me for these few months, so of course you sometimes forget and slip back to the beliefs you grew up with, and it's wrong of me to laugh. Please, forgive me for that."
"Oh, Mistress, it's not my place to forgive you. You must forgive me me.
"No, I was wrong. I know it-- the G.o.ds have shown me my unworthiness for laughing at you."
Then the G.o.ds are very stupid, if they think that it was your laughter laughter that made me angry. Either that or they're lying to you. I hate your G.o.ds and how they humiliate you without ever telling you a single thing worth knowing. So let them strike me dead for thinking that made me angry. Either that or they're lying to you. I hate your G.o.ds and how they humiliate you without ever telling you a single thing worth knowing. So let them strike me dead for thinking that that thought! thought!
But w.a.n.g-mu knew that wouldn't happen. The G.o.ds would never lift a finger against w.a.n.g-mu herself. They'd only make Qing-jao-- who was was her friend, in spite of everything-- they'd make Qing-jao bow down and trace the floor until w.a.n.g-mu felt so ashamed that she wanted to die. her friend, in spite of everything-- they'd make Qing-jao bow down and trace the floor until w.a.n.g-mu felt so ashamed that she wanted to die.
"Mistress," said w.a.n.g-mu, "you did nothing wrong and I was never offended."
It was no use. Qing-jao was on the floor. w.a.n.g-mu turned away, buried her face in her hands-- but kept silent, refusing to make a sound even in her weeping, because that would force Qing-jao to start over again. Or it would convince her that she had hurt w.a.n.g-mu so badly that she had to trace two lines, or three, or-- let the G.o.ds not require it! --the whole floor again. Someday, thought w.a.n.g-mu, the G.o.ds will tell Qing-jao to trace every line on every board in every room in the house and she'll die of thirst or go mad trying to do it.
To stop herself from weeping in frustration, w.a.n.g-mu forced herself to look at the terminal and read the report that Qing-jao had read. Valentine Wiggin was born on Earth during the b.u.g.g.e.r Wars. She had started using the name Demosthenes as a child, at the same time as her brother Peter, who used the name Locke and went to on to be Hegemon. She wasn't simply a a Wiggin-- she was one of Wiggin-- she was one of the the Wiggins, sister of Peter the Hegemon and Ender the Xenocide. She had been only a footnote in the histories-- w.a.n.g-mu hadn't even remembered her name till now, just the fact that the great Peter and the monster Ender had a sister. But the sister turned out to be just as strange as her brothers; she was the immortal one; she was the one who kept on changing humanity with her words. Wiggins, sister of Peter the Hegemon and Ender the Xenocide. She had been only a footnote in the histories-- w.a.n.g-mu hadn't even remembered her name till now, just the fact that the great Peter and the monster Ender had a sister. But the sister turned out to be just as strange as her brothers; she was the immortal one; she was the one who kept on changing humanity with her words.
w.a.n.g-mu could hardly believe this. Demosthenes had already been important in her life, but now to learn that the real Demosthenes was sister of the Hegemon! The one whose story was told in the holy book of the speakers for the dead: The Hive Queen and the Hegemon The Hive Queen and the Hegemon. Not that it was holy only to them. Practically every religion had made a s.p.a.ce for that book, because the story was so strong-- about the destruction of the first alien species humanity ever discovered, and then about the terrible good and evil that wrestled in the soul of the first man ever to unite all of humanity under one government. Such a complex story, and yet told so simply and clearly that many people read it and were moved by it when they were children. w.a.n.g-mu had first heard it read aloud when she was five. It was one of the deepest stories in her soul.
She had dreamed, not once but twice, that she met the Hegemon himself-- Peter, only he insisted that she call him by his network name, Locke. She was both fascinated and repelled by him; she could not look away. Then he reached out his hand and said, Si w.a.n.g-mu, Royal Mother of the West, only you are a fit consort for the ruler of all humanity, and he took her and married her and she sat beside him on his throne.
Now, of course, she knew that almost every poor girl had dreams of marrying a rich man or finding out she was really the child of a rich family or some other such nonsense. But dreams were also sent from the G.o.ds, and there was truth in any dream you had more than once; everyone knew that. So she still felt a strong affinity for Peter Wiggin; and now, to realize that Demosthenes, for whom she had also felt great admiration, was his sister-- that was almost too much of a coincidence to bear. I don't care what my mistress says, Demosthenes! cried w.a.n.g-mu silently. I love you anyway, because you have told me the truth all my life. And I love you also as the sister of the Hegemon, who is the husband of my dreams.
w.a.n.g-mu felt the air in the room change; she knew the door had been opened. She looked, and there stood Mu-pao, the ancient and most dreaded housekeeper herself, the terror of all servants-- including w.a.n.g-mu, even though Mu-pao had relatively little power over a secret maid. At once w.a.n.g-mu moved to the door, as silently as possible so as not to interrupt Qing-jao's purification.
Out in the hall, Mu-pao closed the door to the room so Qing-jao wouldn't hear.
"The Master calls for his daughter. He's very agitated; he cried out a while ago, and frightened everyone."
"I heard the cry," said w.a.n.g-mu. "Is he ill?"
"I don't know. He's very agitated. He sent me for your mistress and says he must talk to her at once. But if she's communing with the G.o.ds, he'll understand; make sure you tell her to come to him as soon as she's done."
"I'll tell her now. She has told me that nothing should stop her from answering the call of her father," said w.a.n.g-mu.
Mu-pao looked aghast at the thought. "But it's forbidden to interrupt when the G.o.ds are--"
"Qing-jao will do a greater penance later. She will want to know her father is calling her." It gave w.a.n.g-mu great satisfaction to put Mu-pao in her place. You may be ruler of the house servants, Mu-pao, but I I am the one who has the power to interrupt even the conversation between my G.o.dspoken mistress and the G.o.ds themselves. am the one who has the power to interrupt even the conversation between my G.o.dspoken mistress and the G.o.ds themselves.
As w.a.n.g-mu expected, Qing-jao's first reaction to being interrupted was bitter frustration, fury, weeping. But when w.a.n.g-mu bowed herself abjectly to the floor, Qing-jao immediately calmed. This is why I love her and why I can bear serving her, thought w.a.n.g-mu, because she does not love the power she has over me and because she has more compa.s.sion than any of the other G.o.dspoken I have heard of. Qing-jao listened to w.a.n.g-mu's explanation of why she had interrupted, and then embraced her. "Ah, my friend w.a.n.g-mu, you are very wise. If my father has cried out in anguish and then called to me, the G.o.ds know that I must put off my purification and go to him."
w.a.n.g-mu followed her down the hallway, down the stairs, until they knelt together on the mat before Han Fei-tzu's chair.
Qing-jao waited for Father to speak, but he said nothing. Yet his hands trembled. She had never seen him so anxious.
"Father," said Qing-jao, "why did you call me?"
He shook his head. "Something so terrible-- and so wonderful-- I don't know whether to shout for joy or kill myself." Father's voice was husky and out of control. Not since Mother died-- no, not since Father had held her after the test that proved she was G.o.dspoken-- not since then had she heard him speak so emotionally.
"Tell me, Father, and then I'll tell you my news-- I've found Demosthenes, and I may have found the key to the disappearance of the Lusitania Fleet."
Father's eyes opened wider. "On this day of all days, you've solved the problem?"
"If it is what I think it is, then the enemy of Congress can be destroyed. But it will be very hard. Tell me what you've discovered!"
"No, you tell me first. This is strange-- both happening on the same day. Tell me!"
"It was w.a.n.g-mu who made me think of it. She was asking questions about-- oh, about how computers work-- and suddenly I realized that if there were in every ansible computer a hidden program, one so wise and powerful that it could move itself from place to place to stay hidden, then that secret program could be intercepting all the ansible communications. The fleet might still be there, might even be sending messages, but we're not receiving them and don't even know that they exist because of these programs."
"In every every ansible computer? Working flawlessly all the time?" Father sounded skeptical, of course, because in her eagerness Qing-jao had told the story backward. ansible computer? Working flawlessly all the time?" Father sounded skeptical, of course, because in her eagerness Qing-jao had told the story backward.
"Yes, but let me tell you how such an impossible thing might be possible. You see, I found Demosthenes."
Father listened as Qing-jao told him all about Valentine Wiggin, and how she had been writing secretly as Demosthenes all these years. "She is clearly able to send secret ansible messages, or her writings couldn't be distributed from a s.h.i.+p in flight to all the different worlds. Only the military is supposed to be able to communicate with s.h.i.+ps that are traveling near the speed of light-- she must have either penetrated the military's computers or duplicated their power. And if she can do all that, if the program exists to allow her to do it, then that same program would clearly have the power to intercept the ansible messages from the fleet." is clearly able to send secret ansible messages, or her writings couldn't be distributed from a s.h.i.+p in flight to all the different worlds. Only the military is supposed to be able to communicate with s.h.i.+ps that are traveling near the speed of light-- she must have either penetrated the military's computers or duplicated their power. And if she can do all that, if the program exists to allow her to do it, then that same program would clearly have the power to intercept the ansible messages from the fleet."
"If A, then B, yes-- but how could this woman have planted a program in every ansible computer in the first place?"
"Because she did did it at the first! That's how old she is. In fact, if Hegemon Locke was her brother, perhaps-- no, of it at the first! That's how old she is. In fact, if Hegemon Locke was her brother, perhaps-- no, of course course-- he he did it! When the first colonization fleets went out, with their philotic double-triads aboard to be the heart of each colony's first ansible, he could have sent that program with them." did it! When the first colonization fleets went out, with their philotic double-triads aboard to be the heart of each colony's first ansible, he could have sent that program with them."
Father understood at once; of course he did. "As Hegemon he had the power, and the reason as well-- a secret program under his control, so that if there were a rebellion or a coup, he would still hold in his hands the threads that bind the worlds together."
"And when he died, Demosthenes-- his sister-- she was the only one who knew the secret! Isn't it wonderful? We've found it. All we have to do is wipe all those programs out of memory!"
"Only to have the programs instantly restored through the ansible by other copies of the program on other worlds," said Father. "It must have happened a thousand times before over the centuries, a computer breaking down and the secret program restoring itself on the new one."
"Then we have to cut off all the ansibles at the same time," said Qing-jao. "On every world, have a new computer ready that has never been contaminated by any contact with the secret program. Shut the ansibles down all at once, cut off the old computers, bring the new computers online, and wake up the ansibles. The secret program can't restore itself because it isn't on any of the computers, Then the power of Congress will have no rival to interfere!"
"You can't do it," said w.a.n.g-mu.
Qing-jao looked at her secret maid in shock. How could the girl be so ill-bred as to interrupt a conversation between two of the G.o.dspoken in order to contradict contradict them? them?
But Father was gracious-- he was always gracious, even to people who had overstepped all the bounds of respect and decency. I must learn to be more like him, thought Qing-jao. I must allow servants to keep their dignity even when their actions have forfeited any such consideration.
"Si w.a.n.g-mu," said Father, "why can't we do it?"