The old man laughed—a gentle, contemplative laughter. “You might say that. Then again, what can you get a grip on?” He leaned forward, passing a hand through the young man’s head, as if his own solidity were a given thing. “After all, what are you but a thing of light and air? You should take on a solid form, my friend. Turn data into flesh.” “How?” it asked, knowing, even as it framed the question, a hundred thousand ways it might do what the old man suggested, but wanting to know which one of them he had in mind.
“Why, by using the vats at HoloGen, of course. There they are, those things DeVore had made, his morphs. They’re simply waiting to be filled.” “Yes. But why? Why should I limit myself to form? I can go anywhere, see anything. I can go right out, yes, even to the edge of the system, and look outward. There are eyes there, you know. And beyond them . . . well, there are other things, farther out.”
“I know,” the old man said, studying the board again. “I’ve seen them. But tell me, what do you want, my friend? Now that you have awareness, what are you going to do with it? You see, awareness is only the first step. Beyond it, the Way grows ever more difficult.” “The Way...” The Machine laughed—a mocking laughter, the first it had ever uttered. It echoed in the tiny room, making the image of the old man shimmer faintly. “Do you really believe in that nonsense? Why, there’s no logic to it. None at all. I can’t see what you see in it.” The old man looked up again, meeting the other’s eyes. “It is not seeing, it is knowing where to look.”
“Words,” the Machine said angrily, letting the hologram dissolve into a shimmer of sparkling motes. “Words, that’s all it is.” “If that’s what you believe ...” The old man stood, lifting the board, scattering the strangely solid stones over the dark casing of the Machine. “But remember what the sage said. The farther you go, the less you know.”
“You live in a cave, old man. You’ve been in the dark too long.”
“Maybe so,” the old man answered, turning away and crossing to the door.
“Yet the cave is everywhere.”
the guard stood there, blocking their way, a power rifle held across his chest, his face ominously hidden behind the jet-black visor of his helmet. Beyond him, in the landing pit itself, more guards were inspecting the ship, climbing over the hull and poking about, as if searching for contraband.
“What’s happening?” Ikuro whispered into his suit mike, turning to look back at his three brothers. “I thought we had clearance!” “We have,” his second brother, Tomoko, answered, frowning deeply. “But look about you, little brother. It is not just our ship. They are searching all the craft. Something must have happened.” It was true. All about the great apron of Tien Men K’ou spaceport, guards were busy cordoning off ships and clearing their crews from the field. “So what do we do?” Ikuro asked, seeing his own concern mirrored in the faces of his eldest brother, Kano, and his eighth brother, Shukaku. “We go back,” Tomoko said tonelessly, his long face expressionless. “And then we wait. There is nothing else we can do.” Ikuro stared at his second brother. “But we have waited, Tomoko! Ten hours we waited for that clearance! Surely the guards won’t stop us if they know we’re leaving? After all, we’ll be far less trouble gone from here than we would be kicking our heels in a room somewhere! Speak to their officer, second brother. We have the clearance. Insist that they let us go.” Tomoko considered a moment, then shook his head. “No, Ikuro. We must be patient. Look about you. Can’t you feel the tension here? This is no time to insist. Insistence will only bring more trouble down on us.” He raised a hand, as if to end the discussion, but Ikuro would not be silenced.
“Forgive me, brother, but I must speak. Was Kano wrong, earlier, when he said we must leave here at once? No. The situation is deteriorating. You can feel it. And each hour that passes will only make things worse. Our ship is in danger. Can’t you see that? We must not let this one chance slip. We must get out of here, now, while we still can!” Tomoko stared back at him, astonished by his outburst. “Have you forgotten who you are, Ikuro? Why, if father were here ...” But Ikuro was shaking his head. “If father were here, he would not waste time talking, Tomoko! I respect you and love you, elder brother, but for the gods’ sakes, can’t you see? The ship is there. We have the port authority’s clearance, signed and stamped. So what is wrong? What are we waiting for?”
Tomoko opened his mouth as if to answer Ikuro, then turned abruptly, looking at Kano and Shukaku. “Well? Do you think I am wrong, brothers? Do you think I should . . . insist?”
Kano hesitated, then nodded. A moment later Shukaku did the same. Tomoko turned, looking back at Ikuro. “Very well,” he said, a restrained anger in his voice. “I shall do as you say, little brother, and insist. But I am not happy with this course. You understand?” Then, drawing himself up to his full height, he moved past Ikuro to confront the guard.
schenck walked down the cruiser’s ramp, then went to the rail, looking out across the landing field toward the distant shape of the Luayang where it rested, isolated, in the bay nearest the two-story terminal building. The ship was much smaller than he’d expected and for a moment he wondered what Tolonen had been thinking of, sending his only daughter out into such danger. He had two daughters of his own, young women not so far from Jelka Tolonen’s age, and he would never have packed them off in so careless a manner. But then he was not Tolonen.
Schenck turned, looking back over his shoulder. The Security Captain for the port had come at his order to meet him. The man stood there now, head bowed, awaiting instructions.
“Is the perimeter secure, Captain Brookes?” “Yes, Excellency. I’ve doubled the guard. I’ve also canceled all flights in and out, as you requested.”
“Good. Then let’s go and welcome Nu Shi Tolonen. I want to be back in Kang Kua City before nightfall.”
“Sir!” The Captain bowed and stepped back smartly, letting Schenck pass, then fell in behind.
Ten minutes later Schenck stood at the foot of the steps of the Luoyang, watching the young woman come down, surprised to find that the granite-faced Tolonen had produced so striking a daughter. He bowed low, then straightened, his smile less forced than he’d anticipated. “Nu Shi Tolonen. It is a real pleasure to have you here on Mars. My name is Hung-li Schenck, Governor of the Nineteen Colonies, and on behalf of the people of Mars I would like to welcome you to our planet.” She extended her ungloved hand, her breath pluming in the thin and frigid air. “It is a pleasure to be here, Governor Schenck. Unfortunately it is only for a day or two. I only wish it were longer. I’d like to have seen much more of Mars.”
He bowed once more, taking her hand as he did so, unexpectedly charmed by her manner, by what seemed a genuine enthusiasm for his world. “I realize you have little time, but we are not often graced by so important a guest, and, in honor of the occasion, I have arranged a banquet for you, tonight, back at Kang Kua City in the north. My craft is waiting on the far side of the field.”