Absorption (17 page)

Suddenly three dimensional images of a brain were floating in the air in front of the three of them. He could see it from the top, front, back, both sides, and several cross sections. Someone without nanotechnology would presumably have seen empty air. Even at that, Muriel could surely have excluded him if she chose.

Under the circumstances it had to be Ariel’s brain. The occipital lobe lighted up red, as Ariel’s visual cortex responded to viewing her own brain. If the red indicated electrical activity, the glowing must be blood flow or glucose supply, which took a moment to catch up. With the nannies inside her, Ariel’s brain was more thoroughly scanned than the most exhaustive tests Brett could have given her.

Muriel requested her patient perform various simple actions, the same basic neurological tests Brett might start with if he didn’t know what to look for. He’d already learned much about how his new nannies interacted with the motor and sensory cortex, as well as many of the limbic and emotional centers of the brain. As a general rule you could not reach someone directly through nannies, unless two people simultaneously disabled multiple safeguards. Strangers couldn’t confuse your vision with sudden pictures or startle you with sudden noises. Even uninvited conversation had to be out loud.

Ariel’s safeguards were clearly lowered for these tests, but Brett didn’t know how far that would extend – to any doctor in the house? The system knew he was a doctor, although he was hardly licensed to practice on Oceania.

Dr. Buchanan had finished and was studying the results. Not really expecting anything, Brett mentally reached. Ariel turned around sharply, either feeling a touch between her shoulder blades, or annoyed by some sort of warning that Brett was sending signals directly to her sensory cortex. She turned around when she saw nothing behind her. Muriel must have noticed. She muttered something Brett could not make out, and sounded annoyed.

Brett’s mood grew somber when Muriel spoke. She seemed to be keeping her tone businesslike with an effort. “I could study this longer, but we both know the problem. You’ve done too much totaling.”

She turned to Brett. “Totaling is –”

Then she fell silent. Outside, the branches of the trees all swayed towards them. He could hear the wind whistling against the windows.

It might have been a couple of minutes later when she addressed Brett again. “Ariel claims she’s worried that hearing about a disease involving the nannies will reinforce your fears.”

His head turned abruptly. Was the grail of his quest about to be dropped at his feet? His gaze sharpened as Muriel continued.

“When she uses her brain to participate in the overmind at maximum intensity, the motor cortex is involved in relaying information. Given her central role this can be up twenty or thirty hours a week, but there’s still a margin of safety.”

Brett tried to sort out the revelations dropping on him. Ariel wasn’t just part of the overmind, she played a key role. Dr. Buchanan was about to tell him a way in which the supermind harmed people who joined it, something which Oceanians had long worked to conceal.

If not for Ariel’s illness, this would be a red letter day.

Brett exhaled. “I don’t suppose she could just quit? That would be too easy.”

Ariel shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

Was it addictive like a drug, or did it impose other barriers on those who would leave? While Brett was still trying to formulate a tactful question, Ariel clarified.

“It means as much to me as the Space Force does to you.”

In a crazy way it made sense. The Space Force might get him killed. It wouldn’t devour his soul though.

Brett was still absorbing multiple shocks, so the awkward silence continued until Muriel spoke.

“Before we get into that, let’s talk about what I consider Ariel’s real reason for not wanting you to know – and needing you to know anyway. I think she’s afraid you’ll think of her as an inhuman monster now.”

Brett glanced at Ariel, who opened and closed her mouth without speaking. Doctor Buchanan’s bedside manner wasn’t impressive, speaking for a patient and implying she was less than truthful in the same breath. Then Brett remembered an ungentle discussion he had once had with a drug addict who had damaged his own brain with a powerful narcotic. Until he knew more, he would reserve judgment. Maybe Muriel’s way was kinder in the long run.

He wanted to protest what she said about him as well, but Brett remembered his own speculations about Ambassador Nocker. They seemed absurd now – but were they? Had his perceptions already been subtly altered? A beautiful woman was the oldest bait in the world for certain sorts of traps.

Angry with himself, he shoved the thought aside. She was real and human, or he didn’t know anything about people at all. She needed him now – or never.

When he spoke his hoarse voice startled him. “Since I’m not running away screaming, how can I help?”

Muriel shook her head. “Only Ariel can help herself.”

Brett turned to Ariel. Her face was tense, but not frightened. Did she resent being pushed more than she feared what was being discussed?

He asked her, “Please. Your life is worth more than anything the overmind thinks it needs you for.”

Ariel’s eyes widened. “This is temporary. I knew Muriel would be overdramatic, but didn’t think she’d involve you.”

Muriel answered before Brett could. “You don’t want Brett to blame all this on Oceania, do you? Tell him what else you’ve been doing.”

Ariel raised her voice. “That’s none of his business!”

Yet she’d asked him to come – but Brett said nothing.

Muriel sighed. “Or mine either. I’m just your doctor.”

Ariel stood up and screamed down at the older woman. “I’m sick of you! I hate that phony calm voice when you’re so sure you’re right and everyone else is wrong. I’m sick of your backstabbing Michael. Leave me alone!”

To Brett’s surprise, Muriel stood up and walked out silently. Shortly he heard the front door close behind her. Did Muriel hope Brett could say or do something?

He sat beside Ariel wordlessly, wondering if the invitation to leave had included him as well. Apparently not, because she spoke to him, very softly. “I wish I hadn’t done that. It drives me crazy the way she’s so calm and so aggressive at the same time, but she means well, and she’s always been there for me.”

Brett replied, “She’ll understand.”

Brett wanted her to leave the overmind, get rid of Michael if he had any involvement at all, and start over. Clearly Ariel felt advised enough for the moment, so he just sat beside her, offering what mute comfort he could.

Abruptly he felt as if Muriel wanted to tell him something. No, that made no sense, she had left. After a moment he unblocked a thoughtmail for the first time since Ariel’s original demonstration.

Muriel communicated, ‘Patient confidentiality prevents me from telling you anything most of Ariel’s friends don’t know already.’

Not an auditory hallucination. More like he remembered just hearing the words, complete with emotion and intonation. It seemed Dr. Buchanan was stretching a point. She meant to tell him something.

Brett restrained a smile, not wanting Ariel to think she was being discussed behind her back. He wouldn’t either, though he felt some empathy for Muriel’s concern and frustration at not being heard out.

They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes. Then Ariel said, “Everyone’s exaggerating what’s happening, and blaming Michael for decisions I’ve made.”

As much as he wanted to understand, today was hard for Ariel, and Brett didn’t want her to feel like she was being interrogated. He said only, “I saw you fall when we went skating last week. Not unusual, in itself, I guess.”

Ariel shrugged. “Any effects are only temporary.”

“I’m surprised Muriel doesn’t realize that.”

Brett didn’t want to argue with her, since she didn’t want to hear it she would be upset to no purpose. The hint that if her doctor was concerned there might be something to worry about was as far as he would go.

Ariel picked it up. “She won’t believe we’re almost done.”

Brett squeezed her hand again. “If you don’t want to tell me what we’re talking about you don’t have to.”

Ariel smiled. “That’s sweet.”

For a minute Brett thought the conversation had ended. Then Ariel explained, “I’m helping Michael become part of the supermind.”

For some warped reason Michael wanted to become part of the supermind, but couldn’t without help. Somehow Ariel had to lose more of her soul in the process.

Brett exhaled. He’d try not to let presumptions get in the way of comprehension. Oceanians didn’t see the overmind that way. The people who were most concerned about Ariel didn’t see it that way. He’d already decided that Ariel was still human.

“Do people often get hurt helping others join up?”

Ariel shook her head. “Normally many people are involved, and do it during working hours, so nobody goes near the safety margin for totaling.”

Brett wanted to provide emotional support, not interrogate Ariel, but he also wanted to understand what was going on so he could help. He asked, “Why not now?”

She didn’t meet his eyes as she replied, and Brett wondered what she was holding back. “There’s prejudice against him for political reasons.”

Brett held on to his poker face, but the idea struck Brett as funny, like a vegetarian being thrown into the lion’s den and finding they refused to eat him because he smelled bad. Ariel leaned back and closed her eyes. He couldn’t badger her now. He abandoned his earlier intentions and replied to Muriel’s thoughtmail. “Was Michael rejected by the overmind because of politics?”

He half expected Dr. Buchanan would now be occupied with something else, and the reply would come much later – if ever. He was wrong. “No. If Ariel still pretends to believe that, ask her how many Galactics have joined.”

Sounded like a group of expatriates. No, wait, Williams had referred to them as a political party. Probably worth knowing more about, but Brett didn’t want to get sidetracked right now.

Avoiding assumptions, Brett asked Muriel, “Is their any chance Michael doesn’t know what this is doing to Ariel?”

“No, and we were nice the first couple of times we explained it.”

Ariel sat, oblivious to the silent dialog beside her. She stared at the images of her brain floating in the air before her. The occipital lobe cycled between red, pink, yellow and green. Ariel’s visual cortex was responding to the shifting image of itself, with a brief feedback delay as the nannies interpreted what was going on.

Brett restrained a surge of anger at Michael. “Ariel says it’s only temporary.”

The reply came back, “It would be if she quit her job and stopped trying to help Michael during a few weeks of therapy. Michael isn’t capable of learning what he wants Ariel to help him learn to do, and won’t admit it. Soon she’ll need to take a vacation from both her job and Michael to avoid permanent damage, and her job means a lot to her.”

Brett felt the last pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place, why Ariel’s friends were immediately open to someone Michael had taken a dislike to, why she hadn’t told him about her career, the unique way of moving which had so captivated Brett the first time he saw her. Suddenly he visualized his hands around Michael’s too handsome neck, but he couldn’t really do that.

Then another idea came to him, if anything less workable. He indulged the fantasy for a moment. How ironic to use the nannies themselves to get her first away from Michael, then Oceania herself. Even in imagination he couldn’t quite think what she would do after she left the hive mind and the planet. Fortunately it was an unrealistic problem, the most plausible result of the harebrained scheme was a slap in the face and the end of a friendship.

Or was it? Brett remembered the time Ariel had spent with him – and never with him and Michael together. Though there had been many reasons not to speak of it, Brett was convinced she had the same emotions for Brett that he had for her.

All the arguments against involvement that had been true yesterday still applied today. Rationally, he should take time to consider the cost before acting rashly. There was no time to think. The moment had to be seized – or else let pass forever in an excess of common sense. Perhaps she would slap him, save him from his own folly.

He studied the floating brain image before him. His idea had captivated him, and he kept planning despite its flaws.

When he knew he would never be readier, he touched Ariel’s brain again. The initial site of contact was the sensory cortex, the part that would represent her upper arm near the shoulder and back. Different neurons connected with different regions, and her brain responded. Would she experience a meaningless sensation, or a warning from her own equipment?

The floating image before him indicated otherwise. The stimulated neurons signaled other dendrites, communicating with both the pleasure and pain centers. Brett imagined what Ariel felt: a light stinging pain, as if fingernails were being gently dragged across her skin. Somehow the mild pain was mixed with pleasure, although not completely localized in her arm.

Ariel turned to face him, saw he hadn’t moved even if his fingers could have passed through her blouse. Before she could speak, Brett mimed embracing an invisible woman with his left arm and pulling her close. His right arm moved through empty air, but it might have followed the curve of a woman’s neck, passing over her shoulder while moving inward towards the middle of her back, sliding downward but curving outward again so they passed near but did not quite touch the cleft between an imaginary pair of buttocks.