“Yes—I mean, no, not a center of power. Woodcarver, packs and Children have always had data access at the ship.” Ravna managed a weak laugh. “That’s why so many Tines are great experts on everything human and Beyonder! The New Meeting Place just makes that access easier.”
Woodcarver’s heads gave a gentle shake. “But your starship is the center of power, no matter what you or I might say. When I look out from New Castle’s parapets, I see the telephone mainlines all leading to your starship.”
“But we’re using Oobii for switching and access logic.”
Woodcarver’s voice rolled on: “And, invisibly, your starship manages radio access and relay—without it, our little radios would be a short-range muddle.”
“That’s only until we get past torsion antennas.” Actually, Ravna was hoping Tines World would not have to detour through the era of analog frequency management. Central management should work fine until the Tines had digital signal processing.
“And we Tines have developed almost none of the energy schemes we see described in your archives. Your ship’s beam gun warms our water and our homes.”
Ravna raised her hands. “Without Oobii’s shortcuts it would be decades before we had anything like these services.”
Woodcarver said, “I know that. But nowadays, when I look out and see Oobii with its beam gun so artfully positioned to cover the heartland of the Domain…”
Ravna sat in shocked silence. After the Battle on Starship Hill, Woodcarver had chosen Flenser’s Old Castle as her seat of office, and Ravna had moved Oobii down to Hidden Island. In that first year, the queen had come to realize that however hastily it was built, the New Castle up on Starship Hill was the proper center for a great empire. She had moved herself up here, and asked Ravna to follow, putting Oobii back on the hill, guardian of all Woodcarver could see. Moving Oobii had not been easy; Ravna could not imagine that the ship would ever fly again. And now…?
Woodcarver exchanged looks with herself. Conflicted? “I’m sorry. I know, I asked for Oobii’s help. I know you have removed the beam gun’s amplifier stage. I would never regard your stewardship of Oobii as a threat. It’s just that lately I’m seeing the risks with new insight.
“Our dependence on your ship for all things makes it a single point of failure—I think that’s your technical term for it—which of course I learned from texts in Oobii’s archive. Isn’t it unwise to bet everything on the proper operation of a single part?”
For Ravna, the answer to that question had always been obvious. Ravna had a deadline. It might be less than a century away. She bowed her head. “I understand. But haven’t we discussed all this before? I thought we were agreed. We’re using Oobii to support Scrupilo’s research and move us as fast as possible.”
Woodcarver sighed. “Yes. In any case, we are too far down this path to change.”
Thank the Powers! Ravna suddenly realized that a disaster had been avoided. This was so much worse than what Pilgrim had said. “W-Woodcarver, if on balance you regard Oobii’s meeting place as a negative thing, just tell me clearly, and I’ll take it down.”
“No, I accept your reasoning, Ravna. I’m content with your new meeting place.”
“Our New Meeting Place, Woodcarver. Thank you.” Ravna cast around for some different topic of conversation. “S-so how are the border inspections going?” Since the cloaks’ disappearance, Woodcarver had attempted to enforce something like nation-state control on the various mountain passes leading over the Icefangs.
Woodcarver bobbed her heads in a smile. “All in place, and rather faster than I had thought possible.” She shrugged. “No matter. In this case, the real threat is not foreigners. I’m confident the cloaks never left the Domain.”
“Oh, right. Flenser.”
“You mean the reformed Flenser,” Woodcarver said archly. “Reformed or not, I know Flenser has always coveted the radio cloaks. They feed his messianic urges.”
“You could kick him off the Council.”
“I’ve thought of taking action against him. I don’t think you realize how clever he is. For a fact, I think he’s as clever as before his four were assassinated. Tyrathect, ‘the humble school teacher,’ was well chosen. And he still has plenty of political connections on Hidden Island and to the north. He’s too subtle to catch, and too powerful to ease aside.”
“But there’s no evidence he had anything to do with the theft.”
“There is a certain amount of indirect evidence. Pilgrim has noticed. Scrupilo would have noticed, if he weren’t so focused on the Tropicals.… Not many thieves could have escaped your pursuit, Ravna. You showed again the remarkable usefulness of Oobii.”
“Oh?”
“I got the details from Scrupilo, more than he said to the Council. You used all sorts of tricks that the Tropicals could never have guessed. No one who wasn’t deeply involved with Oobii technology could have slipped past your search. Scrupilo might have managed it. Maybe I could have—after a lot of research. And then there’s Flenser, who over the years has wangled who knows what out of Oobii—and who I still suspect stole Oliphaunt.”
Ravna opened her mouth to protest, then decided that she had already challenged Woodcarver’s paranoia too much today. In fact, whoever had stolen the Oliphaunt dataset had an oracle that in some ways was as significant as Oobii. Possession would make almost any sneaky plan feasible. And Woodcarver had absolute faith in her smartest offspring’s continuing villainy. I should be grateful, thought Ravna. Better that Woodcarver obsess about Flenser than about the New Meeting Place.
When Ravna came back down the hill from the New Castle, it was an hour or two before midnight. The heather was in twilight. An occasional star was visible in the southern sky; there was the orbiting hulk of the freight device that had carried the Children’s Lander here.
The darkness and the clear sky together brought a deep chill that mostly hid during the summer. By the time Ravna reached Oobii, the breeze had picked up, driving like icy needles through her locally made sweater. The Children called such clothing “unspeakably dumb”; in any case, the fabric had no ability to average temperatures.
The lights from Oobii’s cargo bay—the New Meeting Place—splashed warm and welcoming out upon the hillside. Ravna stood in the outer fringes of the light and looked in. Even now, there were packs and Children within. They were probably just playing games, but even so, the sight comforted her. Woodcarver would eventually love this place.
But just now Ravna didn’t want to talk to anyone. She passed the light, continued on around the ship. Since the theft of the cloaks, local security had been a big topic at council meetings. Nevil, with Scrupilo in loud support, and Johanna soberly nodding, thought that any number of other terrible things might happen now, including smash-and-grab attacks. That sounded foolish to Ravna, but in fact, they didn’t know who they were up against. Maybe the added surveillance cams would help. Maybe they needed more guards. We’ll get all the evils of a nation state before we get the tech we need.
In any case, nothing could go wrong so close to her ship’s watchful eyes. She stepped near the hull, and Oobii quietly opened a hatch for her. She walked inside and let the ship take her up to her rooms by the bridge. She changed out of the heavy sweater and pants, into her shipboard clothes. Just doing that reminded her again of her special perks. Very soon she must move out of these digs. That had become a personal imperative, even though she hadn’t yet spoken of it to anyone. Living outside of Oobii would slow her work, but now she realized that staying aboard might be even more destructive.