Yishna sat still and quiet. She could have continued arguing that she was Deela Freeleng, but knew that a few simple tests would find her out. Her combat training would not help in this situation—she and her siblings had excelled at this regimen that had remained obligatory ever since its introduction during the War and it had helped them in many a tight corner. She wondered if using sex might get her out of this, having employed it ruthlessly since puberty, but now felt it somehow wrong to resort to that to attain her final goal. However, that was not the whole of it: there was something distinctly odd about Director Gneiss which made her suspect he would not be easy to manipulate. She could not read him as easily as she did others, which suggested he was either incredibly complex or that his motivations were not something she had encountered before.
"Have you been told how your mother died?" Gneiss asked.
"An accident aboard Corisanthe Main. She went outside without filing her plan and somehow put herself in the way of a com laser."
"Yes—her fault." Gneiss opened the case and took out a touch screen, switched it on and called something up, before sliding it across to her. "Perhaps you would like to read the real report of the 'accident'."
The document was long, but it took Yishna only moments to speed-read and absorb it.
"Suicide?" she queried. "Why?"
Gneiss shrugged, slid the screen back towards him, and called up something else. "As you can see by that report all of your mother's actions are well detailed, and the conclusion reached is that she was suffering fast-onset post-natal depression. No one really knows, though." He paused, elbows on the table and fingers interlaced before his mouth, then continued as if reciting from a script. "I can provide you with any of the evidence in that report. You can even speak to some of those who were involved and who still work on Corisanthe Main. I warn you, though, that you'll come to the same conclusions as the investigators, because in the end nobody could ever know what was going on inside your mother's head."
Yishna carefully considered these words. Superficially they gave the impression he had misconstrued her motives in seeking employment on Corisanthe Main, yet she felt they were just a gloss over something else. Deciding to react on the surface level she smiled, crossed her legs and leaned forward. "Director Gneiss, I have no interest in finding out why my mother killed herself.That my mother worked there is merely coincidental to my own interests in that place."
"I find that a little difficult to believe," said Gneiss, still from the script.
"Did my siblings advance themselves simply out of curiosity about our mother's death?" Yishna countered. "No, they did not. From a very young age we all sought and found our vocations in life and pursued them, despite attempts by those in the Sudorian education system to hold us back. Harald wanted to join Fleet, and he has done so. Rhodane's interest has always been biology, and she is conducting much research in that area now. Orduval…"
Gneiss leant back, his mouth clamped in a narrow line. He did something strange then, reaching up a hand to press a finger directly below each of his eyes, as if pointing out their weirdness. Because she could not understand this action, it frightened Yishna.
"Yes, I know about your brother Orduval." Gneiss lowered his hand. "Unfortunate—but let us return to you. Your own interests span a wide area, covering physics, electronics, computer science and many other subjects. So you claim you are not here just to clarify your family history?"
She stared back, couldn't help putting something lascivious in her expression, and realised that this response was purely due to her fear. "Knowing my interests and my abilities, where lies the frontier of research for me?"
He smiled tightly and without true emotion. "Corisanthe Main, obviously."
"But you are not going to let me go there." She chose her words carefully so as not to appear arrogant. Reading only the surface of them, the Director's choice of words had telegraphed his intentions. She gave a moue of disappointment and let him get to it in his own time. Let him enjoy his munificence, even if it was only a skin over reality.
"I did not say that," he replied. "I just wanted to be sure your aims did not stem from some misguided urge to find out the truth about your mother. I take the same view that Fleet took with your brother Harald, of this being an opportunity we cannot afford to miss. You are undoubtedly brilliant, Yishna, so the alterations you made to your record will be corrected, and you will go to Corisanthe Main. The only proviso is that, once there, you will report regularly to the base psychologist."
"I'm going?" Now she was delighted.
"Yes—but you heard what I said about reporting to the base psychologist?" His reply was toneless, playing the game to its conclusion without any emotional investment.
The rise of practitioners of psychology to positions of power had been increasing apace with the growth of mental illness on Sudoria. Yishna often speculated that their increased numbers had in fact resulted in the growth of mental illness, rather than been merely a response to it.
"Why do I need to do that?" Yishna asked meekly, though knowing precisely why.
"Because, though you are brilliant, your emotional development is still that of a fourteen-year-old girl." He sat back. "It is understandable how you got so far. Nutrition has substantially improved since the war years, and girls develop a lot faster now than then. But you are still a girl nevertheless."
He gazed at her steadily and it seemed, almost palpably, that between them some kind of understanding formed. He secretly knew she was no girl and somehow she knew him. This understanding was not open to logical analysis, it was just there, and real.
"I understand," said Yishna, bowing her head to his ostensible wisdom, and wondering what kind of little-girl persona to adopt for the psychologist. It had been such a relief to stop playing that part when she had finally departed Sudoria. Really, from the age of four she had felt a hundred years old, and necessarily played the child because others never understood the real Yishna, and just became very frightened of her. But to play that role again…why not? It might be amusing to probe the depth of the base psychologist's understanding of the human condition. Yes, she would play such games with whoever came to analyse her—but there would be no such games with Gneiss.
He was…something else.
McCrooger
Our journey back into the inner system took two weeks, and towards the end of that time I was suffering fewer of those episodes that struck me as worryingly like the onset of schizophrenia. The length of time taken to travel such a short distance (in Polity terms) made me realise how badly these people needed U-tech, but I was glad of the extended opportunity to come to my senses. I kept busy, perpetually accessing Sudorian histories through my palm screen and taking time out only to get to know the layout of the ship better—wherever Fleet personnel allowed me—and to discuss with Duras the potential siting of the Consulate on Sudoria. But that siting was all somewhat beside the point. Quite simply, Sudoria resembled Earth of a millennium ago, when the politics of nation states were shaped by politicians, the media and public opinion—of the three the media becoming the most powerful. All a very complicated and messy process. By those who wanted greater contact with the Polity I would be employed as a media weapon—my being here already considered a victory. Of course the downside of this was that those—mainly Fleet—who did not want any contact with the Polity, would try to use me negatively in the media too. But I intended to sell the advantages, and they were many, maybe enough to eventually influence Fleet personnel, who also possessed their own voting system and their own little internecine conflicts. Maybe this was why Fleet did not seem in much of a hurry to let me go.