Mary felt her stomach flutter. My GodPonter, is the onus on you to prove your innocence?
Ponter blinked, and Hak translated his words with the male voice. Who else should it be on?
I mean, here, on this Earth, a person is innocent until proven guilty. As the words came out, Mary realized that there were many places where that, in fact, wasnt true, but she decided not to amend her comment.
And I take it that you have nothing comparable to our alibi archives? asked Ponter.
Thats right. Oh, there are security cameras in some places. But theyre not everywhere, and almost no one has them in their homes.
Then how do you ascertain someones guilt? If there is no record of what actually happened, how can you be sure you are going to deal with the appropriate person?
Thats what I meant about unsolved crimes, said Mary. If were not sureand often we have no idea at allthen the person gets away with the crime.
That hardly seems a better system, said Ponter slowly.
But our privacy is protected. No one is constantly looking over our shoulders.
Nor is anyone in my worldat least, not unless one is a I do not know the word. Somebody who shows all for others to watch.
An exhibitionist? said Mary, raising her eyebrows in surprise.
Yes. Their contribution is to allow others to monitor the transmissions from their Companions. They have enhanced implants that sense at a higher resolution and to a greater distance, and they go to various interesting places so that other people can watch what is happening there.
But surely, in theory, someone could compromise the security of anyones transmissions, not just those of an exhibitionist.
Why would anyone want to do that? asked Ponter.
Wellum, I dont know. Because they can?
I can drink urine, said Ponter, but never have I felt the urge to do so.
We have people here who consider it a challenge to compromise security measuresespecially those involving computers.
That hardly seems a contribution to society.
Perhaps not, said Mary. But, look, what if the person who is accused doesnt want to unlock hiswhat did you call it? His alibi archive?
Why would he not?
Well, I dont know. Just on general principle?
Ponter looked perplexed.
Or, said Mary, because what they were actually doing at the time of the crime was embarrassing? Bleep. Embarrassing. You know, something you are ashamedbleepof.
Perhaps an example would help me get your meaning, said Ponter.
Mary pursed her lips, thinking. Well, um, okay, say I wassay I was, you know, having, um, sex with someone elses mate; the fact that I was doing that might be my alibi, but I wouldnt want people to know it.
Why not?
Well, because we believe adulterybleepis wrong.
Wrong? said Ponter, Hak having apparently guessed the meaning of the untranslated word. How can it be, unless a claim of false paternity results? Who is hurt by it?
Well, um, I dont know; I mean, we, ah, we consider adultery a sin. Bleep.
Mary had expected that bleep, at least. If you had no religion, no list of things that didnt actually hurt somebody else but were still proscribed behaviorsrecreational drug use, masturbation, adultery, watching porno videosthen you might indeed not be so fanatic about privacy. People insisted on it at least in part because there were things they did that theyd be mortified to have others know about. But in a permissive society, an open society, a society where the only crimes are crimes that have specific victims, perhaps it wouldnt be such a big deal. And, of course, Ponter had shown no nudity tabooa religious idea, againand no desire for seclusion while using the bathroom.
Mary shook her head. All the times shed been embarrassed and ashamed in her life, all the times she was glad no one could see what she was doing: were they uncomfortable simply because of church-imposed edicts? The shame she felt over leaving Colm; the shame that prevented her from getting a divorce; the shame she felt over dealing with her own drives now that she had no man in her life; the shame she felt because of sin Ponter had none of that, it seemed; as long as he was hurting no one else, he never felt uncomfortable over acts that gave him pleasure.
I suppose your system might work, said Mary dubiously.
It does, replied Ponter. And recall that for serious crimesthose involving assaults on another personthere are usually at least two alibi archives available: that of the victim, and that of the perpetrator. The victim usually introduces his or her own archive of the event as evidence, and most of the time it clearly shows the perpetrator.
Mary was simultaneously fascinated and repelled. Still
That night at York
If images had been recorded, could she have brought herself to show them to anyone?
Yes, she said to herself firmly. Yes. She had done nothing wrong, nothing to be ashamed of. She was the innocent victim. All the pamphlets Keisha had given her at the rape-crisis center said that, and she really, really, really, really tried to believe it.
Butbut even if there were a recording of what shed seen, could it have been used to catch the monster? Hed been wearing a balaclava; shed never seen his facealthough a thousand different versions of it had haunted her dreams since. Whom would she have accused? Whose alibi archive would the courts have ordered unlocked? Mary had no idea where to begin, no idea whom to suspect.
She felt her stomach flutter. Maybe that was the real problemthe predicament that Ponters people had avoided: having too many possible suspects, too much crowding, too much anonymity, too many vicious, aggressive men, she thought. Men. Every academic of her generation had been sensitized to the issue of gender-neutral language. But violent crimes were indeed overwhelmingly caused by males.
And, yet, shed spent her life surrounded by good, decent men. Her father; her two brothers; so many supportive colleagues; Father Caldicott, and Father Belfontaine before him; many good friends; a handful of lovers.
What proportion of men really were the problem? What fraction were violent, angry, unable to control their emotions, unable to resist their impulses? Was it so vast a group that it couldnt have beencleansed was Ponters word, a nurturing word, a hopeful wordfrom the gene pool generations ago?
No matter how large or how small the population of violent males was, thought Mary, there were too many. Even one such beast would be too many, and
And here she was, thinking like Ponters people. The gene pool could indeed use a good cleansing, a therapeutic purging.
Yes, it surely could.
Chapter 34
Adikor Huld lay in his bed, flush with the ground, staring up at the timepiece mounted on the ceiling. The sun had been up for several daytenths now, but he couldnt see any reason to rise.
What had happened that day, down in the quantum-computing lab? What had gone wrong?
Ponter hadnt been vaporized; he wasnt consumed by flame; he didnt explode. All those things would have left abundant traces.
No, if he was right, Ponter had been transferred to another universe but
But that sounded outlandish even to him; he understood how outrageous it must have seemed to Adjudicator Sard. And yet, what other explanation was there?
Ponter had disappeared.
And a large quantity of heavy water had appeared in his place.
Presumably, thought Adikor, it had been an even exchangeidentical masses transposed, but radically different volumes. After all, it wasnt just Ponter that had disappeared; Adikor had heard the air rushing out of the quantum-computing chamber, as if all of it, too, had been shunted to another place. But even a rooms worth of air had little mass, whereas liquid watereven liquid heavy waterwas in the most dense state of that substance, more dense even than the solid, frozen variety.