“But I want to continue my meetings with—”
“The ceremony will take place tonight. Don’t you understand? The Council cannot function without all twelve members. I cannot discuss this further. There is nothing to discuss.”
She turned and walked away. Just as well, McAndrew was all set to tell her that he was not about to join her precious council, and he was planning to leave the Ark without fathering hundreds, scores, or even ones of children. And he was taking one of her colonists — her subjects — with him. I took his arm firmly and dragged him back to our table.
“Calm down, Mac.” I spoke as urgently as I could. “Don’t fly off wild now. Let’s get this stupid council initiation rite out of the way today, and then let’s wait a while and approach Kleeman on all this when she’s in a more reasonable mood. All right?”
“That damned, obstinate, overbearing woman. Who the hell does she think she is?”
“She thinks she’s the boss of the Ark of Massingham, and she is the boss of the Ark of Massingham. Face facts. Slow down now, and go back to Wicklund. See if he’s interested in leaving when we leave, but don’t push it too hard. Let’s wait a few days, there’s nothing to be lost from that.”
How naive can you get? Kleeman had told us exactly what was going on, but we hadn’t listened. People hear what they expect to hear.
I found out the truth the idiot’s way. After McAndrew had gone off again, calm enough to talk to his new protege, I had about four hours to kill. The great ceremony in which McAndrew would become part of the Council of Intellects would not take place until after the next meal. I decided I would have another look at the closed room that I had seen on my earlier roaming.
The room was still locked, but this time there was a servicewoman working on the pipes that led into it. She recognized me as one of the two recent arrivals on the Ark — the less important one, according to Ark standards.
“Tonight’s the big event,” she said to me, her manner friendly. “You’ve come to take a look at the place your friend will be, have you? You know, we really need him. The Council has been almost useless for the past two years, with one member almost gone. Kleeman knew that, but she didn’t seem happy to provide a new member until she met McAndrew.”
She obviously assumed I knew all about the Council and its workings. I stepped closer, keeping my voice casual and companionable. “I’ll see all this for myself tonight. McAndrew will be in here, right? I wonder if I could take a peek now, I’ve never been inside before.”
“Sure.” She went to the door and keyed in a combination. “There’s been talk for a while of moving the Council to another part of Home, where there’s less vibration from construction work. No sign of it happening yet, though. Here we go. You won’t be able to go inside the inner room, of course, but you’ll find you can see most things from the service area.”
As the door slid open I stepped through into a long, brightly-lit room. It was empty.
My heart began to pound urgently and my mouth was as dry as Ceres. Strange, how the absence of something can produce such a powerful effect on the body.
“Where are they?” I said at last. “The Council. You said they are in this room.”
She looked at me in comical disbelief. “Well, you didn’t expect to find them sitting out in the open, did you? Take a look through the hatch at the end there.”
We walked forward together and peered through a transparent panel at the far end of the room. It led through to another, smaller chamber, this one dimly lit by a soft green glow.
My eyes took a few seconds to adapt. The big, translucent tank in the center of the room slowly came into definition. All around it, equally spaced, were twelve smaller sections, all inter-connected through a massive set of branching cables and optic bundles.
“Well, there they are,” said the servicewoman. “Doesn’t look right, does it, with one of them missing like this? It doesn’t work, either. The information linkages are all built for a set of exactly twelve units, with a twelve-by-twelve transfer matrix.”
Now I could see that one of the small tanks was empty. In each of the eleven others, coupled to a set of thin plastic tubes and contact wires, was a complex shape, a dark-grey ovoid swimming in a bath of green fluid. The surfaces were folded and convoluted, glistening with the sticky sheen of animal tissues. At the lower end, each human brain thinned away past the brain stem to the spinal cord.
I remember asking her just one question: “What would happen if the twelfth member of the Council of Intellects were not connected in today?”
“It would be bad.” She looked shocked. “Very bad. I don’t know the details, but I think all the potentials would run wild in a day or two, and destroy the other eleven. It has never happened. There have always been twelve members of the Council, since Massingham created it. He is the one over there, on the far right.”
We must have spoken further, but already my mind was winging its way back to the dining area. I was to meet McAndrew one hour before the big ceremony. Incorporation, that was what Kleeman had called it, incorporation into the Council. De-corporation would be a better name for the process. But the Council of Intellects was well-named. After someone has been pared down, flesh, bone and organs, to a brain and a spinal column, intellect is all that can remain. Perhaps the thing that upset me more than anything in that inner room was their decision to leave the eyes intact. They were there, attached to each brain by the protruding stalks of their optic nerves. They looked like the horns of a snail, blue, grey or brown balls projecting from the frontal lobes. Since there were no muscles left to change the focal length of the eye lenses, they were directed to display screens set at fixed distances from the tanks.
The wait in the dining area was a terrible period. I had been all right on the way back from the Council Chamber, there had been movement to make the tension tolerable, but when McAndrew finally appeared my nerves had become awfully ragged. He was all set to burble on about his physics discussions. I cut him off before he could get out one word.
“Mac, don’t speak and don’t make any quick move. We have to leave the Ark. Now.”
“Jeanie!” Then he saw my face. “What about Sven Wicklund? We’ve talked again and he wants to go with us — but he’s not ready.”
I shook my head and looked down at the table top. It was the worst possible complication. We had to move through the Ark and transfer across to the Hoatzin, without being noticed. If Kleeman sensed our intentions, Mac might still make it to the Council. My fate was less certain but probably even worse — if a worse fate is imaginable. It would be hard enough doing what we had to do without the addition of a nervous and inexperienced young physicist. But I knew McAndrew.
“Go get him,” I said at last. “Remember the lock we came in by?”
He nodded. “I can get us there. When?”
“Half an hour. Don’t let him bring anything with him — we’ll be working with a narrow margin.”
He stood up and walked away without another word. He probably wouldn’t have agreed to go without Wicklund; but he hadn’t asked me for any explanation, hadn’t insisted on a reason why we had to leave. That sort of trust isn’t built up overnight. I was scared shitless as I stood up and left the dining area, but in an obscure way I was feeling that warm glow you only feel when two people touch deeply. McAndrew had sensed a life-or-death issue, and trusted me without question.
Back at our sleeping quarters I picked up the com-link that gave me coded access to the computer on the Hoatzin. We had to make sure the ship was still in the same position. I followed my own directive and took nothing else. Kal Massingham Kleeman was a lady whose anger was best experienced from a distance. I had in mind a light-year or two, but at the moment I was concerned only with the first couple of kilometers. I wanted to move out of the Ark in a hurry.