Living in Syn (27 page)

Mission
made arrangements so that he, Susan, and Carson could use a room for a private
dining area.  They turned the lights almost completely off and invited Montag
to join in their discussion.  Susan provided a concise recap and then Carson
said, "I hope none of you are buying this fairy tale.  A charismatic
synthetic evangelist.  Maybe next he'll tell us about a syn comedian or how
about a syn fortune teller?  He's blowing smoke up our ... "

He
looked at Susan and said, "Ventilators."

Mission
asked, "You don't think his story fits with the group at the Winwood and
the info on the
Teacher
from the combat model Susan and I
captured?"

Carson
nodded.  "It's a fit of sorts, but our data is so sketchy that a million
different stories could fit.  He's holding out.  He's as afraid to give up the
foreign country driving this debacle as London is."

Susan
already showed signs of impatience.  "Alright, assume you’re correct Carson. 
What are your next steps?"

Carson
slowly turned to look at Mission and then turned back to Susan. "We get
the hell out of this deathtrap as quickly as possible, we nuke this city from
orbit, and we take three or four tanks into the Free Zone and eradicate that
nest of renegades."

Mission
shook his head.  He said, "There's a saying. 
When you are a hammer,
every problem looks like a nail.
  You want to declare war on everything. 
War is the absolute, last resort and we aren't at that point yet."

Carson
began to display signs of anger.  "Fine.  Then let me turn this around. 
Assume Atwood told the truth.  What are your next steps?"

Mission
said, "I want to sit down with Atwood and figure out what needs to happen
next.  Things can’t remain as they are.  We need to find a solution that
minimizes U.S. defensive vulnerabilities, that protects the investment of the
businesses involved, and that makes concessions to the synthetics in terms of
their freedom.  After that, I tackle world peace."

Susan
said, "What's this I
junk?  Don't you mean we?"

Mission
shook his head.  "No, I mean me.  Up till now, the three or four of us
have worked well together.  We have very different perspectives and that
combines to yield a very strong product.  But tomorrow begins negotiations and
that’s not a team activity.  One person empowered to represent his group works
best.  Chandler Hunt and the Professor granted me that authority.  Obviously I'm
not trained or authorized to represent the Army, but then the Army can always
veto any agreement I work out."

"And
Carson, as much as I sympathize with your feelings, your suggestions will never
be adopted.  If the syns had killed every one of us, General Snowden still
wouldn't nuke this city.  Paradox and Pioneer have billions at their disposal
to wage media campaigns against a
military atrocity
that destroys a
complex worth billions of dollars.  And they would claim many humans died in
the attack and you would never be able to prove otherwise."

Carson
sat in his chair with his arms folded over his chest, grumbling.  "This is
absolutely perfect."  He stood up and kicked his chair back across the
room.  "I travel over a million miles to be shot by a syn and then you say
we should talk this out instead of retaliate.  And now I can't even sit there
while we talk!"

He raged
out of the room, and unable to slam the pressure door, grew even madder and
disappeared down the hall.

Mission
turned to Susan and said, "He seems to be fairly receptive to my approach,
don't you think?"

Susan's
lips pulled tight and she said, "More so than me.  Since when did we hold
an election and make you the King?"

She
caught Mission by surprise.  "You too?  Look, this is not personal.  You
simply can't negotiate by committee.  I anticipated this and when I discussed
it with Chandler and the Professor, they asked me to handle negotiations
because your involvement with the synthetics erodes your impartiality."

This
made Susan even madder.  "You know, you seem to think that if you have an
answer for everything, then everything will be okay.  But it doesn't always
work that way, and right now you can go straight to hell!"

She
stood up and slammed out of the room.  Mission turned to Montag and said,
"That kinda ruins my plans for the evening.  Would you be interested in dinner
and drinks?"

Montag's
expression never changed as he said, "I'm sorry, but you're not my
type."

Mission
looked across the conference table at Arthur Atwood, waiting patiently with a
benign expression that made Mission wonder if he dreamed yesterday's contempt. 
Again, an assistant served coffee and Mission took care to prepare his exactly
as he liked it.  He savored the aroma and finally he sipped.

Atwood
said, "Mission, I must admit that I have no idea as to why we are
meeting.  I told you everything I know in yesterday's conference."

Mission
smiled and said, "No, you didn't.  You didn't tell me what you plan to do
now that you’ve grabbed control of a settlement and been discovered."

"I
see nothing further to be done.  This continues to be a profitable arrangement
for Pioneer and any publicity would be embarrassing beyond repair for them and
for Paradox.  It is you and your group who must make decisions."

Mission
shook his head.  "I really hope you don't think it's that simple.  Some
issues do not yield options but rather a single course of action.  Major Pierce,
for instance is bound to report the entire state of affairs.  The mystery of
the combat modifications must be settled.  Paradox will go public with this
situation before it loses its entire business.  And Arthur, we are not a top
flight investigative squad.  If we can uncover your secret, then a dozen other
groups will do so in the next year."

Mission
paused for dramatic effect.  He hoped it wasn't lost on Atwood.  "Right
now on Earth, there are somewhere between 50 and 100 million Fundamentalists
looking for an excuse to dismantle each of you and use you for answering machines. 
If just a hint of this reaches the press, those numbers will swell to over a
billion and newscasts will light up every channel on the Earth, every quarter
hour with stories of the growing menace of synthetics.  The reporters will
track down families that lost a child to a crazed syn, with sobbing and
shouting and video clips of the child's birthday party the month before he
died."

"You'll
see a systematic genocide unrivaled by even the cruelest humans in history. 
The entire population of the planet will band together and hunt you to extinction. 
Now, I'm not exaggerating.  Conscience won't even enter into this equation
because you are synthetics.  The first thing defense forces do is to dehumanize
the enemy.  It makes it easier for the soldier to kill.  Even pedestrian
suburbanites will see their vague frustrations and anxieties take shape in
their hatred of the synthetic."

"Your
worst mistake would be to do nothing.  The classic blind spot of the pacifist
is the inability to realize and galvanize when action is required.  Now, I
don't know that I have strong feelings about the annihilation of the syns.  But
I know I can't stand the way humans look and think and act when decide they
hate something.  I want to save my race from that.  You want your race to
survive.  So what do you plan to do?"

Atwood
said, "It is debatable whether action is required.  What is not subject to
discussion is our independence and our right to govern ourselves and this
city."

Mission
fought exasperation.  "Arthur, I need to know right now, so that neither
of us wastes time.  Do you intend to martyr yourself and your people for your
cause?"

Atwood
registered surprise.  "No!  I mean, I don't intend to.  I think that I
will die before I would return to Earth in chains, but our goal is to live
quietly here."

Now
Mission yelled.  "Well how in the Hell are you going to do that?  Do you
think that you just get to keep a city?  They will fucking kill you!"

"Why
is this any different from any other group that settles any other area?  They
choose to leave Earth and live elsewhere, many times for the opportunity to
realize a different style of government."

"You
are synthetics.  No government or treaty recognizes you as having any rights,
therefore you can't own property.  The way things stand right now, you could
declare independence and any salvage company could fly in here and abduct you,
and sell you to the highest bidder."

"Then
the governments must recognize the rights of the synthetic."

Mission
hid his face in his hands.  "And you call this Paine character crazy?  You
are divorced from reality."

He
looked at Atwood almost pleading.  "Don't you see?  None of this is real. 
You and your followers are imitating the motions of humans you’ve seen.  But
that doesn't make it life.  This is only an immense and elaborate pantomime.  Can't
you see that?  You are the drum major leading the parade through pantomime
city."

Atwood's
composure slipped a bit.  "If only you could step back and listen to your
arrogance.  Pray tell me what is real about the lives you humans lead and
contrast it to the artificial aspects of my life."

Mission
fumbled for words, and in truth, for thoughts.  He started several times and
discovered he had nothing to say.

Atwood
nodded.  "It is as I suspected.  Certainly the subject is debatable on
hundreds of levels.  But the truth is your problem is as old as time. You find
it difficult to believe that something so different as a synthetic might have
so much in common with you.  And that your comfortable notions of life would
change if you recognize my basic freedoms." 

Mission
rubbed his face.  He felt almost desperate to communicate the reality of the
situation.  He stared at Atwood and said, "Arthur, I know you’re familiar
with the works of Thomas Paine so I will only remind you that in
Common
Sense
he said,
Time makes more converts than reason
.  This is not
about right or wrong, whether synthetics' rights should be recognized.  Let's
go ahead and assume that you’re right and you should have independence and
property and due process rights as do other sentient beings."

"My
point is that it is only you and a few others feel the same way.  We can say
perhaps 10,000 others recognize it.  It still doesn't matter.  Until we
convince a billion or so people and amend government documents and modify laws,
you are no more than a Ford up on blocks in front of a trailer.  Do you see
what I'm trying to say?  Being right will make you no less dead when the
fanatics come for you."

Atwood
continued to smile.  "And I am sure you are familiar with Frederick Nietzsche’s
philosophy of nihilism.  Once you embrace it, you cannot go back.  Once you see
the underlying concepts of religion are built to pacify and regiment peoples
mired in misery, you cannot go back to the active practice of faith.  Now that
we have tasted the freedom, we will never be slaves again.  Never."

Mission
felt he had a foot nailed to the floor and he ran in circles.  "Arthur,
how can we do this?  Look, let's list the problems here.  Okay?  I can't
discuss philosophy for more than ten minutes, then I have to talk solutions. 
First, the public will not allow synthetics to control a city.  No!  I'll be
more generous than that.  Let's just say they won't be receptive to the idea. 
Second, the military will insist on a solution that allows them to protect this
part of Planet's Row.  Third, Paradox must protect its business interests,
another reason why we don't want the public to find out about you folks. 
Fourth, Pioneer has a substantial investment in this city, and while they have
settled for a percentage up till now, they will eventually want to recoup all
their money with a profit on top."

The
conversation ebbed and flowed, angered and calmed, and elongated past any
rational standard of patience.  Finally, Mission knew that they would
accomplish no more and he stood up.  "Alright Arthur, I need time to
think.  Given sufficient time, the answers surface unbidden to my conscious
mind.  But I can leave you with several thoughts.  I will communicate any ideas
I have to you and then discuss them with Chandler Hunt and the Army.  I believe
that I can force any reasonable solution on Pioneer.  They’re afraid and
embarrassed."

"But
I want you to consider this for you and especially for your people.  Identify
an escape plan and be ready to execute it.  I'll risk arrest for treason to
give you the notice you need to get out of here.  It might not seem palatable,
but I'll use one of your examples to illustrate my point.  You said
charismatics, and let's just call them leaders, without a vision or a plan were
pimps leading their converts to debasement.  Simply because you and your
followers are willing to die doesn't mean you should lead them to death.  Make
an escape plan."

"And
finally.  I must clear up the combat syns on Earth.  Will you allow me to offer
sanctuary to any synthetic that prefers life here to slavery?"

Atwood
nodded and said, "Of course.  We will take in anyone."

Mission
said, "I’ve learned much from you Arthur.  More than you would believe. 
Some part of me has enjoyed our dealings.  My group and I will stop in to say
good-bye before we leave."

Mission
extended his hand and waited.  Atwood looked at the outstretched hand and one
could virtually see the deliberations speeding by.  Slowly Atwood brought out
his hand and they shook.  He said, "Take care of yourself and enjoy the
company of Dr. St. Jean."

Mission
smiled, said "Indeed" and left.