A small, irrational surge of anger ran through her as she climbed the stairs. Verence, why aren’t you here to help me? Which Guild Master do I trust without you around?
She let herself out into the Guild Hall. Her name on the entrance memory board caught her eye.
MASTER OF CRAFT EVELYN DOBBS, REPORT TO GUILD MASTER MATTHEW HAVELOCK IN CONFERENCE TWELVE.
Dobbs took a deep breath and forced her feet to move in the right direction. It was only a matter of time before she’d have to see him again anyway. It might as well be now. Once Guild Master Havelock was done with her, she could get back into the network and she and Cohen could figure out what to do next.
No escort this time, at least. She mused as she crossed the park. Dinner time was approaching and except for herself, the plants and the birds, the place was deserted. There were seldom more than three hundred Fools in the Hall at one time, so finding even one of the parks empty was not too unusual. This time though, it emphasized her isolation and made Dobbs shiver.
Get this over with, she told herself. Get back to the Pasadena and get back into the net. Tell Cohen what’s going on. He’s Hall staff. He’ll know who will listen to us, who’ll get this all out in the open.
She passed through the bulkhead to the conference module. This was one of the few areas of the Hall that actually looked like a space station. It was a narrow, curved, low-ceilinged hall with hatchways set at regular intervals.
There was still nobody else visible.
Conference Twelve was the sixth hatch from the entrance on the left-hand side. Dobbs didn’t want to give herself any additional time to get nervous. She palmed the reader immediately and strode inside as soon as the hatch cycled back far enough.
The conference room was full of chairs and tables on tracks so that they could be slid into different configurations as the meetings required. One long table had been assembled in the middle of the room. Its broad side faced the hatch. On the far side sat Guild Master Havelock and five others. Dobbs could only put names to three of them, but they all had the Guild Master’s star hanging from their necklaces.
Dobbs throat began to close. There was nowhere for her to sit down. The hatch cycled shut behind her. Her hands opened and closed on nothing but air.
What is going on?
Havelock stood up and rested his fingertips on the table top. “Evelyn Dobbs, you have violated Guild security and policy, you have disobeyed direct orders and have placed all of us at risk. Do you deny any of this?”
Dobbs staggered. What had gone wrong? How had they spotted her? Where was Cohen? Did they know how he had helped her? She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. She was facing down six of the twenty-four Guild Masters and being accused of treason. Treason that she had in fact committed, but for a long, chaotic moment she couldn’t even remember why she’d done it.
It took all her training in physical control to lock her knees so she could remain standing.
“I do not deny any of it,” she said. “I did it because Guild Founder Theodore Curran kidnapped a newborn AI that I was responsible for and Guild Master Havelock to whom I report is not doing anything about it.”
No one moved. No voice raised in question or protest. No one even blinked. The Guild Masters sat facing her as still as statues. Under their unflinching gaze, Dobbs felt her strength ebbing away.
They don’t care why I did this, she realized. They don’t care that there’s somebody else out there. I’m the one who broke the rules and I’m the one they caught and they don’t care about anything else. With a sick lurch in her stomach, she realized something else. They all knew what Master Havelock had done, and they weren’t doing anything about that either.
But that was wrong. That had to be wrong. This was Guild Hall and these were her Guild Masters. These were the ones who had made it possible for her to live at all. Without them she would be nothing, just a few scraps and shreds in a ravaged network, if that much. There had to be more going on here than she saw. There had to be.
Havelock’s eyes bored into hers. “You are stripped of any and all ranks and privileges. You will be confined to one set of quarters without network access until a full sitting of Guild Masters can be convened and a final determination made in your case.”
He seemed to be waiting for her to protest, to try to explain. Dobbs saw all the blank, impervious faces of her Masters and knew that anything she could think to say would be useless.
But there had to be something else going on. Something was happening she didn’t know about. It had to be. Nothing else made sense.
When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything more, Havelock lifted his fingertips away from the table. “The decision of this panel is closed. You will come with me to your quarters.”
That was all there was to it. The other Guild Masters, murmuring softly to themselves got to their feet, but didn’t move to the door. They let Havelock walk up to Dobbs. His hand closed around her elbow. Holding her tightly, almost painfully, he propelled her out of the room.
He kept his eyes straight ahead as he took her out of the conference area to the core elevator bundle. In a car to themselves, they sank down to the next ring. Dobbs expected the doors to open onto the dormitory can, but they didn’t. Instead, they let in the sight of gleaming white tiles, bright red warning signs and the scent of antiseptic. This was the medical can. It was bare, sterile and full of closed hatches. Behind the hatches injuries were being healed and diseases were being cured, just like any hospital. Behind some of them, though, functioning human bodies were being assembled from vat grown parts so they could be ready for new AIs to be brought in, or for old members whose own bodies had aged too severely, or been injured too badly, to be useful anymore.
Dobbs hadn’t been here since her last check-up. Then, it had seemed merely hospital-like. Now, it was a place of secrets, like the rest of the Hall. It was a warren of hidden ideas kept away from her by thick walls and blank eyes.
Havelock palmed the reader on one of the closed hatches. It cycled back to reveal a small room with a bunk, a view screen, an intercom grill, a chair and a toilet alcove. It was a simple place, much like the room she’d been in when she first came awake in her body.
Dobbs crossed the threshold. Havelock didn’t. She turned around.
“Can you at least tell me why you won’t say what’s really going on?”
For the first time, bewilderment crossed his face. He smoothed it away quickly. “Dobbs, this is what’s really going on.”
He palmed the reader and the hatch cycled shut.
For a long time after that, Dobbs could do nothing but stare at its blank, ceramic surface.
Chapter Ten — Deceptions
“Intercom to Al Shei.” Schyler’s voice sounded tentatively through the cabin.
Al Shei paused in folding up her prayer rug and glanced at Resit, who was laying her kijab back over her hair.
“What is it, Watch?” Al Shei closed her prayer rug in its drawer.
“Guild Master Ferrand’s on the line. We…we’ve lost our Fool.”
“We’ve what?” said Resit before Al Shei could even speak.
“They are declaring Dobbs’ contract void for violation of Guild regulations.” Schyler’s tone vacillated between bewildered and incredulous.
Al Shei wrapped her hijab across her face. “Send the line down here, Watch.” She checked to see that Resit had her kijab and her professional expression in place, then she lit up the view screen over the desk. After a moment, Master Ferrand’s face appeared.