There was no Ghost in the mudbath today, no Ghost in the bar save the Virtual projection of the Sink Ambassador – and a Silverman, standing like a chromed statue in one corner, confronted by an angry human crowd.
They weren’t actively doing anything to it, not touching or harming it in any way. Yet they surrounded it, sitting silently, defiantly drinking the Navy drink called Poole’s Blood, walling in the Silverman with human flesh. Donn knew some of these people. Here was Bareth Grieve, one of the Reef’s elders, a friend of his mother’s and a member of the Reef’s Grand Council. This morning Grieve and the rest barely acknowledged him. They were just a mob who had trapped a Silverman.
Elah was taller than most in the bar, as indeed was Eve. Donn had heard an insulting theory that Reefborn were becoming dwarfed, as populations stranded on islands often were, apparently. ‘What a spectacle,’ Elah said now, looking down on the group around the Silverman with utter contempt. ‘Makes you ashamed to be human.’
The Ambassador murmured, ‘You can see why we have a problem. These people have been here for hours – and they refuse to release the Silverman.’
Eve said, ‘And something has been done to that Silverman. Look, Donn – can you see?’
At first glance the Silverman was typical of its sort: a kind of sketch of a human figure – head, torso, arms and legs, but shorter than an average human – like a statue in Ghost-hide silver. It lacked detail. It had fingers but no toes, no fingernails, no navel, no genitalia, the face just a bland outline, all orifices sealed up save the eyes and mouth. It was identical to the rest of its kind, just as every Ghost looked the same as every other. But this one had a sort of collar around its neck, of some heavy blue metal.
‘That doesn’t look like Ghost technology to me, that collar,’ Eve murmured. ‘That’s human. They’ve done something to this thing. What, though?’ She snapped her fingers, and a data slate appeared in her hands.
‘It is an eerie construct, a Silverman,’ Elah said. ‘Look at it, all but faceless, expressionless, walking among us . . . And if you were going to develop a weapon to penetrate a society like this, an assassin to work in a human environment of rooms and corridors, a human shape is exactly what you would give it. It’s not surprising people are wary, especially in a politically underdeveloped society like this one.’
Donn bridled at her casual insults.
But the Silvermen were odd. They had only been appearing on the Reef since the arrival of the Coalition, as relationships between the Ghost and human communities on the Reef had steadily deteriorated. They wandered the Reef’s corridors and haunted its bars and libraries, theatres and forums, even its churches. They stepped out of the way of humans. They would tolerate being touched, their silver flesh poked by curious children. They would speak if spoken to, answer questions if asked, although only of the most direct sort. But they volunteered nothing. They didn’t do anything. They just looked.
The Silvermen were a strange, eerie, uncomfortable presence. And they simply showed up, appearing as suddenly and as randomly as the human abductees disappeared. The Silvermen were anti-abductees.
And they were clearly Ghost artefacts, for that silvery flesh was Ghost hide.
The Sink Ambassador asked, ‘Why are these people doing this?’
‘Maybe this is punishment,’ said Donn. ‘For the abductions. People want something to hit back at.’
‘They are not harming it.’
‘No, but I wouldn’t like being trapped like that. Pinned up against a wall, ignored.’
‘A human sort of harm, then. To learn such lessons is the Silverman’s purpose. So I believe.’
Donn stared at the Ghost. As far as he knew, this was the first time any Ghost had discussed a ‘purpose’ behind the Silverman visitations.
Elah, naturally, had overheard too. ‘It’s here to learn, you say.’
‘I speak at second-hand,’ the Ambassador said. ‘You know that Ghost society is not like yours – not hierarchical – our society is like our bodies, an embracing of diversity. But I believe that the faction behind the Silvermen intends them as an experiment to learn more of humanity.’
‘By sending these homunculi among us as spies,’ Elah said.
‘Not that. The way each of us thinks is shaped by how we sense the universe, how we experience it and manipulate it; we are our bodies as well as our minds. We understand what you are doing,’ it said bluntly to Elah. ‘Your Coalition and the galactic Expansion it is driving. We do not understand why you do this. Perhaps your restlessness is something to do with your ape anatomy, your manipulating hands, your heritage of the trees and the savannah.’
Elah laughed. ‘You insult us without even trying, don’t you? So do you think your experiment has worked?’
The Ghost admitted, ‘I don’t believe we anticipated the hostility they have encountered.’
Donn said, looking over at the Silverman, ‘It isn’t human enough, perhaps.’
Elah said, ‘In some corners of this Reef people gang up on the Silvermen and dress them up in clothes! All to reduce that feeling of otherness about them. And in other corners the Silvermen are insulted, abused – especially by the families of the abducted. There’s never been a physical attack before, however.’ She faced the Ambassador. ‘If you want us to help you, Ghost, you need to be honest with us. How are these homunculi being planted in the Reef? Is it through some teleportation mechanism? And is it the same mechanism that is used to abduct humans from the Reef?’
Again that long hesitation. ‘There is another faction – its motives are noble—’
‘Tell us, Ghost!’
‘Yes,’ it said softly.
Donn blew out his cheeks. ‘I never heard it confirmed before, about the abductions. That the Ghosts really are responsible.’
Elah said stonily, ‘Are you disappointed?’
‘Yes. Because it means all the paranoids were right – all those who swallowed your anti-Ghost propaganda, Commissary.’
‘Don’t push your luck, boy,’ she murmured.
‘It does explain what they’ve done to that wretched Silverman over there,’ Eve said now. ‘I’ve been running some tests.’ She showed them a slate of results that meant little to Donn.
Elah nodded. ‘That collar they stuck on it is full of processors. It’s a sentience booster.’ She smiled at Donn. ‘Do you see? This lynch mob have made the Silverman smarter. More self-aware.’
Donn frowned. ‘Is that legal? And, why?’
‘I don’t think the law matters much here. And as to why – isn’t it obvious? Yelling at those other dim homunculi was no longer enough to get rid of the rage. They made this creature smart enough to understand what it was suffering, what its perceived crime was. And who knows what they have planned for it once this long vigil is done? Can’t you see the logic, Donn Wyman?’
At the sound of Donn’s name, the Silverman turned. It had been the first movement it had made since Donn and the others had walked into the bar. ‘You are Donn Wyman?’
‘Yes,’ said Donn uncertainly.
The Silverman walked straight towards Donn. It had to push through the barrier of drinkers, knocking a couple of men aside. Some of them got to their feet to challenge the Silverman. ‘Don’t you take another step, you Ghost monster—’
But Elah raised her hand, a halting motion. The men glowered, but stood back. The Reefborn had quickly learned to recognise the authority of a Commissary.