The Cyborg from Earth Read online

  "I can see that. Don't you know why? The big difference between us is that Billy and I weren't in a major accident ten days ago, and just about killed."

  "So?"

  "So you needed medical treatment—urgently. Our people didn't wait to ask. We just did it."

  "I appreciate whatever you did."

  "I hope you will when you know what we did. We didn't want you to lie helpless and miserable for weeks and weeks as your body recovered naturally. Our engineer doctors examined your injuries, then added the machines to you."

  "Machines?" Jeff took another look at his hands and arms. "I don't see any machines."

  "Of course not. They were injected, just a few milliliters of them. Tiny machines, too small to see, the size of a cell or smaller. Smart machines, too, able to recognize and repair bodily damage. And self-replicating machines, that would multiply as needed using your own body's supplies of raw materials. That's why you're starving—you have to keep them supplied and you're swarming with them. Like it or not, Jeff Kopal, at the moment you are a man-machine combination—a cyborg, if you prefer to use the word that Sol-siders seem to like."

  "What's going to happen to me?" Jeff had a vision of himself as the machines inside took over, turning him into some kind of clanking mechanical monster. "Am I going to . . . change?"

  "Sure." She seemed to be confirming his nightmare, but before he could react she continued, "You're already changing—back to the way you were before you were hurt. If you're feeling well, it means that the nannies—nanomachines—have rebuilt you inside and are close to finishing their job. They made you eat because they needed raw materials, and they'll make you sleep if they want your nervous system closed down for adjustments. They'll stop functioning when they are all done, in another day or two; then the nannies will be naturally excreted from your body."

  "I know what naturally excreted means," Billy said happily. "It means you'll shit machines. It sounds painful."

  "Billy Jexter!"

  "Well, it does."

  "You don't have to say things like that." Lilah spoke as though her argument with Billy was an old one. She turned to Jeff. "You can see why nobody wants him around."

  Jeff had little interest in talking about Billy Jexter's habits. Something else was on his mind. "Is that the only kind of cyborg you have—little machines that you use in medicine?"

  "No. There are other kinds of nannies that we use to build things. That stuff's boring, and I don't know much about it. Why does it matter?"

  "Back on Earth, the Messina Dust Cloud is called Cyborg Territory."

  "That's only 'cause Earth is afraid of machines. You don't have them there, do you? You have slaves instead."

  "We have machines, of course we do." But Jeff knew it was a half-truth. Smart machines, like Logan, were prohibited.

  "What about human slaves, then? People whose job is just to serve other people. Are you going to tell me you don't have them?"

  "Well . . . ." The servants in Kopal Manor didn't have to work there, they could leave anytime. But no one did, because the alternative was the Pool. Hooglich had made it clear how unpleasant that option was. People would hang on to their jobs no matter what. Maybe there was slavery on Earth, even if it wasn't called that.

  "See," Lilah said. She had correctly read Jeff's hesitation.

  "Which would you rather have: intelligent machines to help you, or human slaves?"

  The answer was obvious, but a sudden memory prevented Jeff from speaking. He recalled his mother, fighting for breath with her ruined lungs. The nannies could have cured her in days, rebuilding everything damaged in the accident. The difficult operation for lung replacement would have been avoided.

  Lilah seemed to have a natural ability to read his emotional state. This time she stood up and quickly said, "Well, never mind that. We'll have time to talk about anything we feel like . . . later. But now we have to get moving. I was sent to bring you to central axis, and she'll be wondering where we've got to."

  "Who will?"

  "Mo—Connie Cheever." Lilah had an odd smile on her face, and Billy hooted with laughter. At Jeff's blank look, she added, "She's—er, the general administrator of Confluence Center. The nearest thing in the Cloud to an overall boss of operations."

  "Why does she want to see me?"

  "You'll have to ask her. But it makes sense. I mean, you are a Kopal, you must know what the Sol navy is up to. And as for you"—she turned to Billy Jexter, who had stood up with the other two—"you are specifically not included in this invitation. So bug off."

  Billy scowled and stuck his tongue out at her. "I don't care if I go with you or not. I bet he doesn't know anything worth hearing."

  He ducked under Lilah's swipe and skipped out of the door. Lilah moved after him. "I'll get you, Billy Jexter," she shouted along the corridor.

  Jeff, watching the two of them, decided that Billy didn't deserve punishment. He had the situation exactly right. Jeff knew nothing worth hearing, and he wanted to be informed as much as anyone.

  What was the Sol navy doing? Was Jeff's own presence in the Messina Dust Cloud tied up with that? And was Uncle Giles Lazenby, the smiling and devious master plotter, somehow behind it all?

  Chapter Ten

  I'M as much to blame as anybody," Lilah said. "Billy's an orphan, his parents were lost when a rakehell went too near Dodman's Reef. He was only four when it happened. Since then he's been a sort of mascot for Confluence Center. He goes where he likes, does what he likes. We're all used to him popping up anywhere."

  "Doesn't he have school?" Jeff was listening, but half his attention was elsewhere.

  "Of course he does. That's only for part of the day, as long as the Logans can keep him there. He has plenty of time left for mischief—and he uses it. I bet he knows the interior of Confluence Center better than anyone. He has ways through the tunnels that even the Logans can't tell you. I'm glad I'm not in charge of him."

  "Mm. "Jeff was counting his footsteps as he walked. He estimated that they had traveled close to a kilometer. "How big is Confluence Center?"

  "Do you mean across, or along the axis?"

  "Either one. Is there an axis? I mean a spin axis."

  "There used to be. The Center grows all the time, it's been building for a century. From one side to the other—not counting the external tunnels—it's a couple of kilometers. And the thickness, along the spin axis, is about half a kilometer."

  Jeff had been trying to judge his effective weight as they walked, and from that the field in which they moved. It had changed from near Earth gravity at the beginning to a point where they were close to floating along. Now it was slowly increasing again. If Confluence Center were rotating, that would make sense. They had started at the outside, where the centrifugal force caused by the rotation was a maximum. Then they had approached the spin axis for a while as they walked, so the centrifugal force that created the effect of gravity became less; and now they were heading out again toward the perimeter. But Lilah's words seemed to destroy that idea.

  "You say there used to be a spin axis," he said. "What happened to it, and what's there now?"

  She paused and her blond eyebrows lifted. "You're interested in weird stuff, aren't you? Are you a jinner, like the other two?"

  "Hooglich and Russo? They say I am, but I don't think so."

  "Well, you sure sound like one. Nobody sensible cares about weight and spin and that sort of rubbish. The way I've heard it, Confluence Center was spinning until about ten years ago. Then they stopped it. I remember the way it was before, and it's better like this."

  "But if it stopped spinning, everything ought to be close to free fall. Confluence Center is in open space; there's no gravity around here."

  "There certainly is." Lilah slid a comb from her pocket, released it, and caught it again as it fell slowly toward the floor. "What do you think that is, if it's not gravity?"

  "I mean, there ought to be no gravity. There's not enough mass for gravity."
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br />   "Complain about it to Administrator Cheever, then."

  "It's not an administrative issue."

  "Then talk to Simon Macafee—if you can find him. I never met him, but they say he likes that sort of stuff."

  "Macafee." Jeff halted in his tracks. "I saw that name when I looked up the Anadem field in the query system. Is Simon Macafee the one who invented it?"

  "They say that, but I don't really know. I don't care, either. He's supposed to be a real loony, and that's all I can tell you about him. Why are you worried about nonsense like that?"

  Jeff gave up. Lilah was pointedly not interested in anything to do with science—even science that affected her and the whole of Confluence Center. He wondered if she was interested in anything.

  She was walking along the long spiral of the corridor, and as he caught up with her, she asked, "What did you mean, when you said that you didn't know what the Sol navy was trying to do?"

  "I don't know their strategy. I'm an ensign. The navy doesn't tell its plans to junior officers."

  "Not even to you? You're a Kopal. Everyone says that Kopals run Sol's navy, even if they don't travel much beyond the Sol system. How did you come to be here?"

  How, indeed? Jeff said, "I don't know. I guess I fell off a horse."

  If he had intended a conversation stopper, it was a failure. Lilah stopped, grabbed him by the arm, and swung him to face her. Her blue eyes blazed. "You've ridden a horse?"

  "Ridden one, groomed one, fell off one—lots of times. I was taught to ride before I could read."

  "Oh, my God. That's so wonderful."

  Jeff's opinion of Lilah Desmon went down two notches. He was thinking, What sort of idiot doesn't care why there is a gravitational field at Confluence Center, but is fascinated because I can ride a horse? He said, "I even own a horse. It's a mare called Domino."

  "You're so lucky. I've dreamed about owning a horse since I was three years old."

  "Are there horses out here?" Maybe his idea that they were found only on Earth was wrong.

  Lilah shook her head. "Not a single one. I only wish there were." She grabbed his arm and started to tow him back along the corridor. "I have to show you my rooms. I've got pictures of horses all over my walls, and a million questions about them."

  "I thought Administrator Cheever was waiting for us." It was better to say that than to tell Lilah Desmon that horse pictures were one of the world's most boring items, up there with horseflies and horse sweat and horse manure, and Aunt Delia Lazenby's unspeakable horsey tea parties.

  Lilah stopped pulling at him. "Ooh. She is. I forgot. You have to go to your meeting. Will you come and see my rooms? And talk with me about horses?"

  "Sure."

  "Promise? Later today?"

  "Sure." Much later, if Jeff had anything to do with it. He followed Lilah, and in another couple of minutes they were entering a huge hemispherical room with a smooth, hard floor. The curved wall had been made into one giant display that showed the misty glories of the Messina Cloud. Sitting in the middle of the room at a round table, dwarfed to insignificance by the scale of the chamber, were three people: Russo, Hooglich, and a second woman.

  Jeff was no close observer of features and appearances, but even he could see the resemblance between Lilah Desmon and the stranger. The woman was an older version of Lilah, with darker, shorter hair and with lines in her forehead and at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

  Lilah led him forward, and he halted and came to full attention.

  "Took your time, didn't you?" the woman said. She was talking to Lilah.

  "Billy Jexter was with us. We had to get rid of him."

  "Ah," the woman said, as though a reference to Billy explained everything. She glanced up at Jeff, studying his rigid stance. "Hello. I'm Connie Cheever. How are you feeling?"

  "Very well, thank you." Jeff doubted that she wanted to hear how nervous he was.

  "Good. If you feel tired or hungry, don't try to fight it. Eat, or drink, or lie down, as soon as the feeling comes over you. Otherwise, the nannies will make you do it. They are good, but they're not too smart. They don't tell you when they're finished. Are you hungry or sleepy now?"

  "Not at all."

  "Then sit down. You don't have to stand like a statue if you don't want to."

  She was amazingly casual, not at all like the highest authority in Confluence Center.

  Jeff held his rigid position. "Am I a prisoner of war?"

  "What war?" Connie Cheever waved a hand. "Come on, sit down before you burst. There is no war so far as I know, although a few hours ago I received a message from a Sol-side ship. The Dreadnought has passed through the node into the Cloud, and it wants to meet with us here."

  "I know that ship," Hooglich said. "Destroyer class, not much firepower in spite of its name. Strange. The Dreadnought is a Central Command vessel, not Border Command. I wonder what that means."

  Jeff's leg muscles were tightening. He decided he might as well give up standing to attention. As he sat down he asked, "Did the message from the ship mention me?"

  "I'm afraid it did." Connie Cheever glanced around the table. "All of you, you and Hooglich and Russo. You are all officially described as deserters from the Space Navy."

  "That's absolute nonsense." Russo's beak of a nose glowed pink with fury. "If I could get my hands on Captain Eliot Bloody Dufferin, old Squeaky would—"

  "Be patient, and maybe you will. He might be on board the Dreadnought. I gave them directions for Confluence Center, and they'll be here in about a week." Connie Cheever turned to Lilah, who had shown no signs of leaving. "You're not part of this meeting, but if you want to stay, you can. On one condition. When you speak the first word, you leave."

  From what Jeff had seen of Lilah, that wouldn't take very long. But she said, "I promise, Mother. Not a word."

  That disposed of one question. He had wondered why someone her age would be sent to bring him to a meeting with the administrator. She sat down at the table by his side, while her mother went on, "The three of us have already talked about the Aurora and what the Sol navy thought it could possibly achieve here. I'd like to hear your impressions, Jeff Kopal. Before you were told by Captain Dufferin, had you ever heard anything about the Cloud seceding from Sol?"

  Jeff had to think. He felt as though he had known about that for a long time—but how long? Finally, he had the answer.

  "It was before I left Earth—before I even joined the Space Navy. A month and more ago. I asked the query link at Kopal Manor about the places where Border Command operated, and it came back to say that Node 23—the node that serves the Messina Dust Cloud—was one of the trouble spots. It said the node threatened to secede from Sol control."

  "Interesting." Connie Cheever glanced at Hooglich and Russo. "But untrue, of course."

  "I told you," Russo said. "There's something else going on here—something that has nothing to do with any secession. Only I don't know what."

  "That's why we're talking. And now we've disposed of one possibility." Connie Cheever turned to Jeff. "I'm not trying to be mysterious. The Cloud has never threatened to secede from Sol, even though we have our own government and no need for support from them. We've been economically self-sufficient for fifty years, and there's nothing new on that front. We did tell the Sol-side authorities that we won't pay node use charges anymore, because we maintain this node and we make less use of it than they do. But we told them that recently, in just the past couple of weeks. Your query link gave you information earlier. So unless somebody on Earth can see the future, this doesn't explain the talk about us seceding."

  Lilah had been following everything closely. "It's as though someone wants to start a war and is looking for a reason," she said.

  Jeff glanced over at Connie Cheever and waited for a reaction. The administrator merely nodded. "That's a very intriguing and useful suggestion. We'll have to consider it, because Sol is certainly acting that way. Thank you, dear." And, as Lilah began to smile in s
atisfaction, "But now, of course, you have to leave."

  "Muv! You can't do that. I was helping."

  "You were indeed. But rules are rules. Not a word, I said at the start; and you agreed. So off you go."

  Lilah frowned, but at last she stood up from the table, glowered around, and walked head-down to the door of the chamber. Connie Cheever waited patiently until she was almost outside, then called after her, "Thanks again, dear. See you at dinnertime."

  Jeff revised his ideas about the atmosphere in Confluence Center. Easygoing it might be, but rules are rules. He would not speak until he was asked to.

  "The question is," Connie said thoughtfully, "What is there here that's worth starting a war over?"