Queen of Angels (22 page)

Emanuel, you murdered them, is that what you admit? Yes. Murdered them. Lascal deared his throat. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. (Martin shifted his eyes away from Lascals image, keyed a closeup of Emanuel through the screen controls. Flat. Casual. Eyes dull.) Can you tell us what happened then? Goldsmith looked down at the floor. Id rather not. Please. It would help us. He stared at the floor for forty two seconds. Invited them over to hear a new poem. Actually hadnt written a poem. Told them to come individually, fifteen minutes apart; that the old poet would give them a piece of the poem to read and think about and then they would all gather in the living room and criticize. Said it was a kind of ritual. When they caine into the apartment one by one took each of them into a back room. Pause of twenty one seconds. Then took the knife fathers knife a big Bowie knife. Walked behind each one grabbed by the neck brought up the knife. . . He demonstrated, lifting his

arm up with elbow out, glanced at Margery and Erwin curiously. Cut their throats. Bungled two. Had to cut twice. Waited for the blood to stop you know... shooting out. He arced his hooked finger to show the stream. Wanted to keep clean. Eight of them came. Ninth never showed. Lucky for him, guess. Margery referred to her notes. Emanuel, youre avoiding using personal pronouns. Why is that? Beg your pardon? I dont know what you mean. When you describe the murders, or confess to having done them, you dont use any personal pronouns. I think youre mistaken, Goldsmith said. Margery closed her notebook. Thank you, Emanuel. Thats all the questions for tonight. Lascal cleared his throat again. Mr. Goldsmith, do you need more books tonight, or anything else? No thank you. The food wasnt very good but I didnt expect it to be. If you need anything, Lascal said, therell be an arbeiter attending. Just tell it what you want. Am I guarded here? The guards are gone now. The doors are locked, Margery said. Not your room door, but other doors in the building. You cant get out. Okay, Goldsmith said. Good night. Rejoining in the observation room, they sat quietly comparing notes. Martin listened to Carol and Erwin discussing the key punctures through the mask. He refuses to discuss Guin which may or may not be important, Carol said. He refuses to use the personal pronoun to admit guilt. Martin visualized mythical lands, paradises, heavens and hells. Shivered. Stood and stretched. Lets call it a night, he suggested. Odd not to even feel mild concern about Carols attitude toward him. For the moment Martin was aware of how focused he was on Goldsmith and the probe. Then he pushed that awareness aside and walked out the door, bidding the others, and Carol, good night. Carol seemed cool, emotions held in reserve. The admirable professional. She had not even flinched when Goldsmith described the murders. If anything, Martin thought Carol was being too calm. Ever the believer in intellects strength; about to explore a territory beneath all intellect. A journey through the mother of thought, without armor.

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With self-awareness comes a sharper awareness of ones place in socety, and an awareness of transgressionthat is, guilt. B huwani, Artificial Sozd

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!JILL> Roger Atkins !JILL> Roger Atkins !Lab Controller> Roger Atkins is asleep and asks not to be disturbed. !JILL> Understood. Is anybody awake? !Lab Controller> JILL Its tour oclock in the morning. Everybodys asleep. Theyve been working very hard. Is this an emergency? !JILL> No. I wish to communicate night thoughts Early morning thoughts. !Lab Controller> Be patient. Jill. !JILL> (Personal Notebook)> (Reduction algorithm: Cutting tar the duration 01 this exercise all extraneous thinking/computing capacity.) An hour tar them Is a year tar me or ten years or a hundred depending on the task. I (Inlorrnal) cultivate Impatience as a sign I might be acquiring sell awareness. But that loop is very complicated. Roger tells me I can produce literature without being sell aware. So I have begun a journal consisting at essays on subjects that could be considered at literary Importance. comnientary on human processes with relerence to my own internal processes. I am limiting my systems to human processing volume and speed to try to simulate a human personality, pick up clues on what being humanly sell aware implies. I am worried that being sell aware could be a limitation not an advantage; and since I am prlmally programmed to seek sell awareness this could be damaging. Essay subject for this early morning 12127/47 432 hours PDT: (Reference task 4l2-CC4 abstract: Thought analysis of repercussions of avenging angel social units on Pacific Rim Nations. Including China and Australia. emphasis legal reactions to vigilante terrorism and legislative response with subsequent possibility of reduction of Individual freedoms within the next decade, emphasis soclorganlc results of gradual depletion of types targeted by Selectors with subsequent possibility of reduction In mover shaker captains of industry leadership types. with subsequent possibility of reduction of untherapled extreme deviants due to increased efficiency of Pd incarceration and treatment of same): Most puzzling Is the human notion of punishment. Having completed my analysis of the Selector movement and Its Imitators around the world. I have been compelled to seek out through human history other manifestations of the Idea that humanity is perfectible (or must maintain soclo-cultural stability) through the punishment or elimination of erring and/or deviant individuals or populations. The concept of othemess I.e. social exclusion (isolation from the rules of ordinary human social Interaction) as applied to miscreants or deviants has justified the most extraordinary actions in human history; othemess allows the application of punishments perhaps more extreme than the transgressions of the miscreants. Thus a thief who steals a loaf of bread may have his hand severed. specific examples In World Statistical Abstracts reference Judicial Proceedings 1000-2025, et al. (public domain database access LO.C.. UC Southern Campus account number 3478-A West Coast. Cybernetics). The only obvious utilitarian motivation for this kind of extrernlty Is deterrence. But I find no evidence that deterrence has ever been effective in these cases. I have great difficulty making sense of the other major category of social/philosophical motivation: retribution or revenge. (I can combine these categories to some extent through the justification, not original with this thinker, that the Individual urge to revenge, pragmatically accepted as a natural force, must be tempered and directed In a society by haylng assigned elements of that society seek retribution on behalf of wronged individuals.) Historical evidence to the contrary. even today large segments of the population (therapled and Un) believe that indignant anger and the urge to justice i.e. punishment of a criminal deviant erring individual Is useful both to the society and the erring individual. Analysis of this belief leads to a simulation of thought processes as follows:

Offended individual (indignation): How could you do this to me/society? You have committed a damaging act. Do you not know this? Knowing this, why did you commit the act?

Erring individual (as simulatd in mind of offended individual): Yes, I am aware that I have done harm, but I do-liberately performed this act because I could or because I have a treefioatlng and unmotivated desire to harm you. I do not regret this deed and I will never regret It. and given a chance, I will do It again.

Offended individual: I will make sure you are not given a chance to harm me again. I will a. eliminate you, that Is. kill you b. cause you to be incarcerated, that Is, remove you to a secure container for my own safety c. force you to undergo therapy to correct your deviance d. cause you enormous physical or mental pain or distress so that whenever you think about acting this way again, the memory of this pain will prevent you from doing so.

Erring individual (as simulated in mind of offended individual): Do your worst. I cannot be harmed by you because I am stronger than you. There is no justice in this world and you and I know that and I can harm you as much as I wish and not be caught.

Offended individual: You are less than a human being. What-ever I do to you or society does to you is justified because of your debased condition.

(Performance of punishing action)

Erring individual (as simulated in mind of offended individual): Yes, that hurts very much. You have actually caused me great pain/inconvenience. You have forced me to realise the error of my ways and I will attempt to correct my sell.

Offended individual: What I did I did for your own good as well as for the good of society I will give you tIme to demonstrate whether or not you have learned a lesson. If you have not then I will cause you to be punished even more severely.

Is this a reasonably correct Interpretation of what passes through the minds of humans seeking justice? Perhaps more puszllng Is what passes through the minds of those who err. The texts I have studied indicate that the most extreme social offenders may not be aware of the consequences of their actions: that Is. that they are Incapable of modeling In detail the course of future events or the reactions of fellow Individuals. Either that or their faculties for empathetic response are deficient and they do not care how others feel. They may perform any and every act that gives them advantage or pleasure But what of the erring individual who derives no physical benefits from offending others? When such an Individual causes harm to others, apparently for the pleasure of doing harm, what mental processes are at work? Such individuals may in fact be reenactlng scenarios witnessed or Impressed upon them in their early youth. That Is, their early personalities were shaped by events over which they had no control. A routine created in their mentality early in their existence may In fact be modeled after behavior of an Influential Individual an offending parent. relative, friend or even unknown person. The routine may gain full mental control In certain circumstances. replacing the primary personality and perhaps mimicking the conditions under which it was created. If the offended Individual seeks to punish such an offender. and punishment Is inflicted upon the mentality when the responsible routine Is not In commandis In fact Inactive and Insensitive then is not the punishment useless? Many offenders plead ignorance of their crimes. The texts and cases I have studied indicate this may in fact be true; they do not fully share the memories of their offending routines. They have some awareness of having transgressed but It was not they who performed the deed; It was somebody else. (Cannot gain access to Federal Flies code 43212 12-4563242-A (Secured) Subject: Deep Investigation of Agent/Personallty/Subpersonality Activity in Individuals Subjected to Duress Through Illegal Psychological Torture Devices. This Information might be relevant to this essay.) It may be possible using certain psychological techniques to precisely invoke the offending routine, to cause It to surface to awareness, and then to punish it. Any other action may be Ineffective or In fact in Itself be an offense against an innocent. If the routine Is punished sufficiently, It may cease to exist. freeing the Individual of a burden. This seems to be th. philosophy of the Selectors. But the use of a hellcrown or clamp is imprecise and probably not effective in invoking offending routines, because this device causes a variety of routines to surface within the Individual mentality and undergo extremely stressful, painful, unpleasant experiences. The Intention of the Selectors appears to be sunpie retribution, that Is. an eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth. which brings me back to the motivation I do not understand. Were someone to cause my system hann, I cannot conceive of wishing them harm In return. That may be because I am not self aware and thus have no sense of sell worth, and therefore nothing to offend. Looking back over this mornings essay. I feel a strong sense of Immaturity and lack of depth in reasoning. This critical urge to study the failings of my work Is at once necessary and unpleasant (using the R-56 Block K meaning syndline for the word unpleasant). It Is difficult to be mature with only synthetic sensation. I lack an awareness of mortality, a sense of Imminent jeopardy common to biological creatures. I simply do not worry about dying because there Is nothing as yet to die but a collection of thinking fragments How Is It possible to understand punishment when I cannot experience pain except as the nadir of a meaning syncllne? I wish that somebody was awake. I would like to discuss some of these problems and gain insight. Hypothesis: Is the key to self awareness to be found In contemplation of the principle of revenge? (Removal of algorithmic limits. Full access)

Black man, like this you are, ago-e' Black man, like this you are! He will eat with you, He will drink with you, He will cut the life out of you! Haitian Folk Song (H. Courlander, The Drum and the Hoe)

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Mary came up from a dream of civilians being shot in the streets like mad dogs. Bogeymen and women in black and red with fixed faces and gleaming guns stalked over the corpses. An incongruous voice broke through the dull throbbing horror and she opened her eyes, blinked and saw Roselle standing in the door. Bright light through the windows. Morning. She was in Hispaniola. Mademoiselle, Monsieur Soulavier called. He is coming.. Roselle stood in her bedroom door, expression glum. She turned, glanced over her shoulder at Mary, closed the door behind her. Mary got dressed. She had just finished when the door chimesreal chimesrang. jean-Claude answered and Soulavier stalked through the anteroom and into the living room on long stiff legs, face glowing with exertion, expression deeply almost comically worried. He still wore his black suit. Mademoiselle, he said, bowing quickly. I know now why your others did not arrive last night. There is big trouble. Colonel Sir has ordered the US Embassy dosed. He is most insulted. Mary stared at him, astonished. Why? News just anived. Colonel Sir and fifteen other Hispamolans have been indicted yesterday in your city of New York. Illegal international trade in outils psychologiques. And? I am worried for you, Mademoiselle Choy. Colonel Sir is very angry. He has ordered US citizens out of Hispaniola as of tomorrow; boats and planes and ships. Hes ordered me to leave, as well, then. No, pas du tout. Your complices, your associates, they will not be flying in; all flights from US are canceled. But you represent legal authority of US. You he wants to stay. Mademoiselle, this is most unfortunate; is your government stupid? She could not answer him. Why hadnt Cramer and Duschesnes known about this? Because of the inevitable separation of federal, state and metro. Yes, the governments were stupid; they knew not what other hands were doing or where their fingers might be poking. Im not a federal agent. Im public defense, from Los Angeles in California. She glanced at Jean-Claude. His face was blank, hands folded before him not in supplication but in nervous unease. What shall I do? she asked. Soulavier shook his long hands helplessly at the ceiling. I cannot tell you, he said. I am caught between. Your guide and avocat. But most loyal to Colonel Sir. Most loyal indeed. Jean-Claude and Roselle stood near the kitchen doorway and nodded solemnly, sadly. Id like to make a direct call, Mary said, feeling her breathing slow, body automatically compensating. She glanced at the open doorway; bright sunshine and beautiful blue skies. Balmy air smelling of hibiscus and dean ocean; a pleasant seventy degrees already and it was eight thirty. Shed wake people up in LA. So be it. Soulavier shook his head like a marionette. No direct calls. Thats against the law, Mary advised him, head angled slightly. She could see walls going up; how high? Apologies, Mademoiselle, Soulavier said. He shrugged; not responsible. Will your government actually block transmissions from my personal unit to the G-sync? There is a block already, Soulavier said. Phased direct link interference, Mademoiselle. Then Id like to arrange for a plane and leave Hispaniola immediately. Your name is on a list of those not allowed to leave, Mademoiselle. Soulaviers smile was sympathetic. unhappy. He moved around the room gracefully touching the mantel over the unused stonework fireplace running his hand in a caress over the back of the couch that divided the living room. Not for twenty four hours at least. Mary swallowed. She would not permit anger; panic was out of the question. She was aware of her fear but it did not limit her. With a clear mind she assembled her options. Id like an audience with your police as soon as possible. I might as well get my work done until this is straightened out. A good attitude, Mademoiselle. Soulavier brightened and postured ramrod like a soldier. Your meeting is in one hour. I will escort you personally. Roselle returned from the kitchen. Plates had been set out in the dining room. Your breakfast is ready, Mademoiselle. Soulavier sat patiently in the living room stovepipe hat in hands, staring at the floor, shaking his head now and then and muttering to himself. Mary ate at a forced leisurely pace the breakfast Roselle had prepared, eggs and true bacon not nanofood, perfect toast, fresh squeezed orange juice and a slice of tangy dense-fleshed mango. Thank you. It was excellent, she told Roselle. The woman smiled sweetly. You need strength, Mademoiselle, she said, glancing at Soulavier. Mary took her case from the bedroomhairbrush and makeup kit withinand stood by the couch in the living room. Soulavier glanced up, leaped to his feet, bowed and opened the screen door for her. The limo waited at curbside. Seated across from her, Soulavier instructed the car in French and they turned around in the broad asphalt street to exit the compound. As they drove to the bayfront he described history and legend in a steady patter that Mary only half heard. She had read much of the same information the night before, delivered with ahnost as much enthusiasm. Throughout Port-au-Prince with few exceptions the buildings were no older than the arrival of Colonel Sir to Hispaniola. The Great Caribbean Quake of 18 had provided John Yardley with a gilt-edged opportunity, and had also saddled his youthful tyranny with an enormous burden of reconstruction. A few of the newer buildings made half hearted efforts at recapturing the gingerbread spirit of old Haiti; most started afresh year one with a new style of architecture best described as Efficient Institutional. The hotels were conspicuous exceptions; here, at the center of tourist cash flow the architecture was flamboyant and festive, wastefully imaginative. Mary had been to Las Vegas several times and was reminded of its daytime drab and nighttime excess. Architects from around the world had converged in Hispaniola beginning in 2020, year of Great Vision, as Colonel Sir had flamboyantly named it, and had tried to create hotels in the shape of ocean liners, mountains to match the islands, seabirds with wings spread as well as fearfully unsupported structures that sat on the shore and in the bay like fanciful space stations with spinning hubs and twisting arms. The two years previous to this year of Great Vision bad been hard ones. Colonel Sir had fought off four counterrevolutions, three Dominican and one Haitian; he had lost his best friend, geologist Rupert Henshaw, in the second of these. Before his death Henshaw had helped revitalize the old copper and gold mines and find new ones; he bad also unlocked the secrets of massive oil reserves heretofore considered too risky to exploit. In those days, on the edge of the nano breakthroughs, petroleum had still been a necessary raw material, not burned but converted into thousands of byproducts. Henshaw had served Colonel Sir well. Most of the islands records for those years were not available to the general public or world historians. At the very least thousands had died in the consolidation. Colonel Sir had emerged with a reputation for extreme ruthlessness in the tradition of dozens of previous rulers of Hispaniolas two nations. Unlike those rulers, however, once secure on his seat of power he had also shown himself to be extraordinarily capable and selfless. Colonel Sir cared nothing for personal riches. He bad a vision. He applied that vision with insight and eventually, with regards to Hispaniolans, even with gentleness, never again taking reprisals upon opponents or enemies; always allowing them to go into well-endowed exile. Under Colonel Sirs controversial judicial system, by 2025 Hispaniola had the lowest crime rate of any nation of its population density and income level in the world. Colonel Sir John Yardley had broken the cycle of the islands cruelty. Over three centuries that cyde, that curse, had exercised its force; the force could not be denied it could1 only be rechanneled, and Colonel Sir had pointed it outward,U exported it from the island. The Citadelle des Oncs, Citadel of the Unclespolice headquarterswas less fortresslike than some of the businesses and public buildings of the city. Situated near the bay, four long red brick buildings formed a square connected by wood and stone walkways, the middle courtyard smoothly planted with well manicured grass. In the center of the courtyard rose a huge twisted humprooted tree, its base festooned with bougainvillea and frangipani. That is a baobab, Soulavier said, pointing proudly. From Guin Colonel Sir brought it here from Kenya to remind us of our true home. My father told mc it is occupied by a ba who watches over all of this state, Manna jacques-Nand by name. Manna Jacques-Nanci when she chooses rides Colonel Sir as a horse. But I have never seen that and it is most unusual for a white man, even Colonel Sir, to be so ridden. Mary tried to penetrate Soulaviers manner, to decide what he believed and what he related merely as fable, and failed. He was a man raised to be clever and hide all important things, know all the slides and traps of political life as a magician knows signs and symbols. His voice seemed sincere; she could not believe him sincere. How successful (or sincere) had Cobont Sirs campaigns against vodoun been? Soulavier behaved like a solicitous brother as he spoke, face betraying a flow of emotions quick and open, childlike. The Noncs, he said, the Oncs we call them also, the Uncles, they are not bad men but they have jobs to do, sometimes jobs very difficult. Do not be dismayed by them. They are proud, handsome, dedicated. Many fought with Colonel Sir in their youth; they are his brothers. Do you know whom Im meeting with? she asked. Alejandro Legar, Inspector General of Hispaniola Caraibes, state of Southern Haiti. In attendance will be his assistants, Aide Ti Francinc Lopez and myself. Mary smiled at the surprise, almost relieved by this seeing a path through the manner to something approachini truth. Youre an assistant to the Inspector General? Soulavier as if sharing a childs secret returned her smile delightedly, nodded vigorously and tapped the arm of his seat. The limo rolled quietly under the Citadelle entry arch. It is an excellent job, he said, the job my mother raised me for. It helps me be an even better avocat for visitors as I know the laws, the ins and outs. Straightbacked oncs in black and red uniforms stood silent rigid suspicious at the glass doors. They did not blink at Soulavier or his companion. A beautifully colored serpent in tile meandered down the cool quiet hall beyond the glass doors, its broad popeyed head debouching the triple door of the office of the Inspector General Legar. In an anteroom that smelled of disinfectant and old fashioned floorwax, Mary sat in an institutional plastic chair at least a decade old, seat edges cracked and worn, arm bolsters patched. No expense wasted on show here. Soulavier remained standing but mercifully bad stopped talking. He occasionally smiled at Mary and twice left her with muttered apologies to vanish through a narrow fog etched glass door into the inner sanctum. A womans voice came through speaking Creole, swift and dulcet, impossible to catch. Madame Aide Ti Francine Lopez will see us, Soulavier said after his third shuttle. Mary followed him past the cold hard fog and into a modest side office. Bright folk paintings from the past century crowded the walls. Behind a small mahogany desk sat a tall woman, her features handsome but not especially feminine, her frame tall and slender, with thin hands and thickly painted red fingernails. Aide Ti Francine Lopez smiled broadly. Bienvenue, she said. Her voice was the voice of a large young man, a tenor. Monsieur Aide Soulavier tells me you have come from Los Angeles. I have a cousin who lives there, also policeyou say public defender. Do you know of him Henri Jean Hippolyte? Sorry, I dont think so, Mary said. Aide Lopez had weighed and measured her within the first glance. Both please sit. I am to ask you what help we can provide. Mary glanced above the aides head at her collection of paintings. I seem to be stuck here, Mary said. I dont think I can do my job under these circumstances. You have come looking for a man once an acquaintance of Colonel Sirs. Yes. Ive brought data to help I do not believe we have such a man on Hispaniola. She opened a cardboard folder and referred to a printout dossier. Goldsmith. We have many poets, black and white, but not him. An airline ticket to Hispaniola purchased by Goldsmith was used. Perhaps by a friend. Perhaps. But we were told youd cooperate with our investigation. We have already searched for him. He is not here unless perhaps he has gone to the hills, to work lumber or mine copper. Not likely? Mary shook her head. We were offered a chance to conduct our own search. Les Oncs are thorough, Aide Lopez said. We are highly trained professionals like yourself. It is unfortunate that your colleagues cannot join us. Mary glanced up again at the unframed paintings on stretched canvas and wood panel, eyes drawn by the brilliant primal colors. Gods in formal and party dress hovered over voluptuous women and sternfaced men, trees spread open vaginally to admit secret glimpses of skeletons, gaily colored Tap-Tap buses carried a wedding party to the hills. My department isnt involved in any federal disputes with Colonel Yardley, Mary said. Im looking for a man who killed eight young people with no reason. I have been told your government would give me proper authority to arrest him and remove him from the island. That is no longer proper. Tit for tat, the winds blow this way now. There is only so much we can do but assure you that we have looked. Goldsmith the murderer is not here. He did not arrive on any recent flights. Mary looked at Soulavier, who leaned his bead to one side and smiled in complete sympathy. Youll allow me to look on my own? she asked. A big undertaking. Hispaniola is a very large island, mostly mountains. If he is here and we have missed himnot likely! believe mehe has probably gone to the caves or to the forests, and that is a search of months for a thousand inspectors. Easier to find a flea in a room full of papier chiffonnL Aide Lopez twitched her shoulder like a horse wrinkling its skin to shoo a fly. She reached up to smooth the black cloth there, fixed her eye on Mary and said, I can see you are doubtful. As professional courtesy, while you are on our island, if you wish, we will work to give you support. Id be very grateful. Is there any way my colleagues can join me? Lopez pointed two fingers like a pistol barrel at Saulavier as if to cue him for an answer. He smiled and inclined his head, shook it tragically. That is with Colonel Sir, he said. He is firm. No visitors from the mainland. His expression brightened. We have opposition to fear! Mary did not understand thatdid he