I hope so, she answered, reaching for her own clothes.
But the other minds were still there. Watching.
There was much to be done.
What shall we do with all these weapons?
Melting is costly, but we have an experimental process that uses a series of electrocatalyst reactions to separate out the different metals of an alloy. The system's not yet ready for general use, but we think it shows promise.
The Kohinoor-mind took a moment to give directions. The process had been a Lorikhan military secret, but now all interested scientists and technicians would be traveling there to help develop it for practical use. Already similar joint efforts were under way to improve crop yields in Baijan, public health in the Urm District, and housing in slums all over the planet.
And what of the doomsday missiles? Should we keep such weapons as safeguards against invasion from outside our system?
Unnecessary, the elements which had once been the Susa-mind argued. Only other hive minds travel the stars, and they're uniformly peaceful.
So says the Drymnu, was one skeptical reply. And even if true, at least one fragmented race travels space as well.
Yes, the mind agreed. We must decide how we can bring our brother humans to share our unity. Until then- The debate was long, but the issue was eventually resolved. The doomsday missiles were removed from the planet and placed for safekeeping at Kohinoor's trailing Lagrange point. There were no hard feelings about the decision, but the very fact that debate was needed showed that the Kohinoor-mind was not yet functioning as capably as the Drymnu had. But our hive mind is still young, Pahli and some of the others pointed out. We must give ourselves time to adjust.
On this too the mind agreed. But an underlying strain remained, a tension that the elimination of war had not relieved. A more equitable sharing of resources is necessary, part of the mind said, and steps were taken to correct the disparity. Will the powerful still deny justice to the weak? another part asked. But the telepathic contacts were becoming ever deeper with time, and it was clear that soon the "powerful and the "weak" would effectively merge. At that point justice and self-interest became identical motivations. The weak saw, and were satisfied.
But the tension remained.
Give it time, was the only answer the mind could offer. Give it time.
As had been anticipated, the telepathic contact between people grew stronger as the weeks went by. But far from relieving the tension, it seemed to make it worse....
Ruhl Tras trudged outside to the empty field near his home, fingering his ball restlessly. It was almost the only toy he could play with these days that didn't bring a flood of disapproval from one part of the Kohinoor-mind or another. Some of his playthings were too dangerous, to someone's way of thinking; others were considered a bad influence-especially his guns-and others were simply deemed "childish," with an accompanying sense of guilt he couldn't understand. His parents had tried to help him, pointing out again and again to both him and the mind that he was a child and should be allowed to enjoy that part of his life without interference. But it was hard to ignore the constant presence and instruction of so many adults, especially when he'd always been taught to respect his elders. Some of them, to be fair, were now bending almost backwards in trying not to influence him... but for the closer ones that was an impossible task. And even worse, his parents' own resolve was beginning to give way under the conflicting views on child rearing that continually buffeted them. Ruhl had always thought his parents were doing a good job of raising him, and their growing uncertainties about that made him very uneasy. Many of his friends, especially those whose parents had been pretty unsure of themselves to begin with, were a lot worse off than he was. Their fears and growing mental chaos were a permanent spot of pain in his mind.
out again and again to both him and the mind that he was a child and should be allowed to enjoy that part of his life without interference. But it was hard to ignore the constant presence and instruction of so many adults, especially when he'd always been taught to respect his elders. Some of them, to be fair, were now bending almost backwards in trying not to influence him... but for the closer ones that was an impossible task. And even worse, his parents' own resolve was beginning to give way under the conflicting views on child rearing that continually buffeted them. Ruhl had always thought his parents were doing a good job of raising him, and their growing uncertainties about that made him very uneasy. Many of his friends, especially those whose parents had been pretty unsure of themselves to begin with, were a lot worse off than he was. Their fears and growing mental chaos were a permanent spot of pain in his mind.
Even as he thought about it a sharp twinge shot through his leg. Automatically, he blocked it out. He'd felt this one before-an old man in Missai Gem with a hurt leg. Shuddering, he remembered the first time the pain had come to him. It had been accompanied by a horrible vision of a damaged warjet sweeping in to the pitted deck of a carrier, where the impact shattered its hydrogen tanks and turned it into a hailstorm of shrapnel and a terrible fireball- Ruhl slapped the side of his head to clear it, even as he felt the pain of that memory spread out among the people around him. For now he could still do that, could drive such thoughts and feelings away with simple tricks of distraction. But what would happen, he wondered bleakly, when the region around him grew to include the old man and his memories? And it would... he knew it would.
It wasn't something he could afford to think about.
He'd reached the field now, and for a moment looked around him, wishing for the days when he and his friends had played here together. But wishing for the past was childish... or so someone had told him.
Hesitantly, half-expecting to incur disapproval, he began to play with his ball.
Shapur Nain leaned against the wall of his apartment as the pain quickly subsided and was replaced by the lightheadedness of the capsule he'd taken. He hated drugs-hated them with a passion-and left to himself he would rather have gritted his teeth and waited out the discomfort. But such decisions could no longer be made with only his own preferences in mind. The hive mind was broadening, and pain had become a problem for the community as a whole. Shapur had lived with intermittent pain for many years now, and he knew there were limits to how much the human psyche could take. Whatever the cost to himself, it was his duty not to add more pain than necessary to the people of Missai Gem.
The first wave of dizziness passed, but for a moment he remained against the wall, staring at his last thought. The people of Missai Gem. Once, he would have referred to them as his countrymen or his neighbors; in the first days of the Kohinoor-mind he would have called them friends or comrades. The people of Missai Gem. The expression damned with nonexistent praise. What had changed?
The answer came instantly, as if it had been waiting to ambush him. You're the one that's changed.
You've become hypercritical of everyone around you.
Not true, he shot back, but even as he said it he knew they were right. He'd always had a touch of the judgmental in him-in the Missai Air Defenses he'd made a fair number of enemies that way. His usual solution in the past had been to simply avoid people whose quirks and shortcomings irritated him. But now- judgmental in him-in the Missai Air Defenses he'd made a fair number of enemies that way. His usual solution in the past had been to simply avoid people whose quirks and shortcomings irritated him. But now- You conveniently forget your own faults, of course, don't you? You've raised more hell than a lot of those you criticize. You're no better than anyone else on Kohinoor. Maybe worse-hypocrites are usually worse.