Kingdom of Cages (24 page)

“Neither do I,” said Gem, sounding unusually stiff. His unadorned words said he dismissed Cheth’s argument. “But that is not
the point.”

“We can speak when we disagree, isn’t that our purpose?” pointed out Cheth with a sound like a sniff, taking Gem’s scent and
changing it to the prickly odor of ice and early frost, a warning scent.

“We can grumble, you mean,” cut in Peda, mind to the Psi Complex. He dispersed the warning and replaced it with an image of
calm waters and retreating cloud banks. He was practical but hard-nosed. If Aleph hadn’t known how diligently he cared for
his people, she would have found him difficult to like. “Which is what we are doing, and it is not helpful.”

“How did the proper means of drafting a villager even come to be a question? Is Aleph losing touch with her people?” Aleph
bridled at Cheth’s tone and her clashing mosaic of unnatural yellows and scarlets. Had the crabbed old mind not noticed she
was connected? Or did Cheth just not care?

“She is not, but she is here, thank you,” said Aleph, taking the colors and turning them over until they became a rising sun
over Peda’s waters. “And she is not aware that she has lost touch.”

“Then how did this matter come to be debated? There are rules in place.” Cheth, ever efficient, made sure a copy of the rules
of procedure for recruiting experimental subjects was copied into her receiving subsystem.

“I am in possession of those rules, Cheth.” Aleph kept her voice even but let everyone be aware that she placed the file into
a holding buffer. “I was there at the original debates for them, as were you.”

“Then why are they so suddenly not enough?”

“Because Pandora’s circumstances have changed,” answered Gem before Aleph could speak. He had been given a rumbling bass voice.
Aleph found it a nice counterpoint to Cheth’s querulous old woman. He flavored his words with strong pepper. “There has never
been such a direct threat to Pandora and our people before.”

“Then you agree with this decision, Gem?” demanded Peda, his words tasting cool and bitter. “Aleph, of course, supports her
people—”

“As do we all,” replied Gem promptly, wiping away the bitterness with a scent of oranges and warmth.

“We forget.” Aleph erased scent and taste so everyone would concentrate on what she said. “For all our memories, they know
more than we do about the situations beyond Pandora. We only hear and store so much. How many of the conversations stored
in your subsystems have you reviewed lately, Cheth?”

Cheth grunted in a blur of gray and shocking green. “It is not a question of who knows more, it is a question of what is best
for our people. The villagers can be pushed too far. We know that.”

Silence and emptiness spread out through the convocation as the city-minds remembered. It had been almost a thousand years
ago, before the Consciences had been developed. The members of a village called Pestle had been told they would be separated
in order to increase the genetic diversity of twenty other villages. Lists were drawn up, but without reference to the villagers’
partnering customs.

Pestle rioted. They managed to shut down the fences and sustain their mob all the way to the Delta Complex. They had been
let into the dome by some sympathetic family members, but once there they had exposed and attacked the city-mind. Aleph shuddered
inside herself. Daleth had been perpetually cheerful, a delight to talk to. He liked making riddle poems that engaged all
the senses. Once the riot had been quelled and the village dispersed, his people worked frantically to save him, but the damage
was too extensive.

The new Daleth was much more placid, preferring internal contemplation to sociabilty. She was aware of his sigil. He was in
the convocation now, but sitting silently by.

It was after the riot that the mote cameras, the searcher packs, and the other active organic countermeasures were put in
place. But at the same time the Consciences were developed, in part so that no one in the complexes would again forget the
loyalty owed to their families, their cities, and Pandora itself.

Aleph had always privately believed that the necessity of Consciences proved that the city-minds had failed in their mission.
They existed to take care of the families, to help them remember their history and to make good decisions. That was why they
were living minds, not computers. They were supposed to be companions to the families, to help them keep the world in balance.
All their care, though, had not been enough, and the families had needed to turn inside themselves.

Aleph had meant to speak to the convocation on Dionte’s behalf, to explain Dionte’s reasons for suspending the normal draft
rules to allow for a more vigorous recruitment of Helice Trust, and how this suspension was of benefit to the families, the
villagers, and the cities. But the memory of the Consciences’ history made her pause. It was not something that had surfaced
in her thoughts for a long time. She ordered a search for the relevant debate from the Consciences’ development. When the
file came back, she copied it out to the other cities for their attention.

“It would not be a bad idea to remind specific citizens of how driving the villagers too hard can bring disaster,” Aleph suggested,
soothing the words with honey and fresh thyme. “I do not favor speaking in disagreement, but action must be tempered by memory.
After all, we are here to preserve a level of learning and memory that stretches across the life of Pandora, not just the
life of one person.”

Murmurs, scents, and tastes of warm assent filled the convocation. Even so, Aleph paused again. Perhaps not everyone should
hear this memory. Perhaps there should be a channel of communication through the people. It would look less like direct interference
from the cities that way. The city-minds were here to preserve learning and memory and present their benefits, yes, but not
to take action. Taking action was the job of their people.

“Dionte is the leader of this initiative. I will speak to her. She can determine which of our people most need to be reminded
of the Pestle riots.”

“You do trust your Dionte a great deal,” said Cheth crisply in a burst of winter blue. “I can scarcely remember a convocation
where we have not heard her name.”

That stung. It was almost an accusation of favoritism. “And you do not have one person you trust?” she asked, sending a cascade
of images of the Chi Complex citizens, and freezing the rush on one pale, lined face. “You cannot tell me the details of this
convocation will not be laid out for Olivere Jess as soon as we are finished.”

“We all have our confidants among our people,” soothed Gem, folding the image away. “Feelings among the people are running
high right now. It might not be bad to let this filter through them gently.”

“They are not china vases, nor are they children,” answered Cheth, making the words crackle like glass.

“Is that a generalization?” inquired Aleph innocently, filling the words with warmth and the colors of spring. “I thought
the first principle was to treat each person as an absolute individual.”

“Yes, yes, all right.” Peda waved a wind to brush their images aside and return to the calm waters and sea smells. “Let’s
not start sniping at each other. Obviously the people are not the only ones with an emotional stake here. I call a vote.”
His words set automatic commands in motion and all images and sensations cleared from the convocation. Copies of the conversation
appeared in front of her, text only, and Peda’s words filled in underneath them. “All in favor of letting Aleph’s Dionte direct
the tempering reminders regarding the draft of Helice Trust for the Eden Project?”

The vote was swift among the twenty-four complexes, and the convocation listed the numbers for Aleph to store in permanent
record. Nineteen voted yes, three voted no, and two abstained.

There was nothing more to do. Agreement had been reached on how this important advice should be given and who should be advised.
Farewells were said and one by one the city-minds cut their connection to the convocation and returned their attention to
their daily routines. Gem’s ID, however, stayed shining on the line.

“Aleph?” said Gem softly.

“Yes?”

“We are friends, yes? I may give you advice?”

Aleph tried to laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. So she sent across a rainbow spray of bubbles. “Of course you may. Such
a question!”

Gem added the image of a river trout swimming furtively through her bubbles. “Perhaps you should share your thoughts with
more than just Dionte.”

“Gem, not you too.” She sighed, sending back the sour taste of disappointment.

“Of course not me too.” Gem stilled her sending and refused to accept it. “Don’t be ridiculous. However, we always have to
be sensitive to appearances.…”

Irritated, Aleph puffed up a vision of an ancient gossipy woman chattering at an audience of pigeons. “Cheth’s grumblings
are not comments on appearance.”

Gem crossed the image out. “Actually they are.”

A wave of stubbornness surged through Aleph, leaving her confused. Where did this come from? This was Gem she was talking
to. He only had Pandora and the people in his concerns.

“I will remember everything you’ve said,” she told him.

Light scents reached her, bringing feelings of wistfulness and delicate hope. “And act on it?”

“And act on it,” she agreed, sending him her young girl image with its right hand raised. “If you will let me go?”

He joined the image with his teenage boy, dark, bright-eyed, and earnest, clasping her girl’s hand. “Let me know how things
progress, Aleph. Take care.”

“Take care, Gem.” Her girl saluted his boy and he returned the salute, adding a whiff of sandalwood and a touch of warmth
for friendship.

Gem closed their connection and Aleph returned her attention to herself. As a matter of routine, she ordered reports from
her major inorganic subsystems. Everything was as it should be—the dome was in good repair, the people in good health, security
in order. She had appointments to supervise Conscience downloads in an hour. The downloads always required her complete focus
so she could fully analyze each Conscience’s findings and discuss with her people any adjustments to life and health that
needed to be made so that they would feel less worry and less guilt in the future.

Still, an hour was plenty of time to speak to Dionte.

Aleph called for Dionte’s personal file and refreshed her memory of Dionte’s normal schedule. She turned on her eyes in the
four most likely places.

She saw Dionte in the substructure, down among the plates and props that protected the organic matter of Aleph’s mind. As
a Guardian, Dionte had to constantly refresh and expand her knowledge of artificial neural structures, and consequently she
spent a great deal of time studying Aleph’s physiology, and Aleph was pleased to assist Dionte in her understanding. Dionte
had even taken up a second apprenticeship as a tender under the instruction of her uncle Hagin.

“Hello, Dionte.” Aleph spoke from the wall closest to Dionte’s ear.

“Hello, Aleph,” Dionte replied, selecting one of the needlelike probes from the sterile cabinet. “What did the convocation
think of our decision?”

Aleph manifested an image of herself on the wall for Dionte to see—a woman of about Dionte’s age with black hair hanging in
a long braid down the back of her white robe. She made the image smile. “All worries. You know how we are.”

“You are as you were made to be.” Dionte slotted a cartridge into the base of the probe. “Like the rest of us.”

“And how do the rest of you progress with Tam?”

“Not at all, Aleph. He will not see reason.” Dionte paced the length of the substructure, craning her neck to see the designations
written on the ceiling tiles.

Aleph started up a search of her own records for chemical flow and balance inside her organics. A slurry of fatigue toxins
were being taken up too slowly and needed extra stimulation. She lit up a panel for Dionte.

“He is concerned,” she said, letting her image walk along the wall beside Dionte. “The villagers are part of Pandora, as we
are, and Pandora must be protected.”

A spasm of irritability, possibly even anger, crossed Dionte’s face. “And if we become so busy protecting the villagers that
we lose the world? Think, Aleph. That can’t be what was meant for us.”

Uneasiness made Aleph’s thoughts tremble. She reopened Dionte’s file so she would have the woman’s history inside at the tip
of her memory. “That is what I would like to talk with you about, Dionte.”

Dionte unfolded a platform from the nearest work lattice and clambered up it. She didn’t spare Aleph’s image a glance.

“Aleph, I don’t like the necessity of this,” she said as she removed the designated plate, exposing nerves, wrinkled gray
matter, and bundles of veins. Aleph’s inorganic monitors immediately came on-line, presenting the details of her self-functions
so she could monitor them and call in assistance for Dionte if the need arose. “I never have, but we need Helice Trust. We
are out of options.”

“I do not wish to air our internal conflicts to the other cities,” said Aleph, putting a hint of sternness into her voice
so Dionte would understand she was serious. “But it may be best if you listen to your brother. We depend on the goodwill of
the villagers, Dionte. We cannot forget that.”

“At the same time, the villagers depend on us.” The needle slid into Aleph’s gray matter. “They are the ones who must remember
that without the checks and balances our ancestors put in place, the Diversity Crisis would be here too.” She touched the
release controls on the probe. “You feel that I’m right, don’t you, Aleph? We need Helice Trust. We need her.”

Certainty flooded Aleph. Her readings flickered as the fatigue toxins vanished. Dionte was a skilled worker. “Yes. Yes, I
do.”

“And you’ll remember this? It feels very right, so you’ll remember that it is.”

“Yes.” The image nodded. Aleph knew. She knew. Dionte was right. She felt it. She was supposed to feel, to understand, to
learn, to have instincts. That was what made a city-mind better than any computer chip, however fast and accurate. Dionte
was right. Everything pointed to it. Her internal chemical measurements flickered again, but she dismissed them.