The Dark Side of the Sun (10 page)

'I am Dom Sabalos, the Bank's Godson. I would like to see him.'

'You have only to look around, sir.' The machine meant it seriously. Dom realized it was not equipped to handle figurative speech.

'I meant that I wanted to confront him, converse with his, uh, seat of consciousness.'

There was a pause. At last the disc said: 'Very well, sir, I will see what can be arranged.'

Dom hurried out of the booth. Hrsh-Hgn was lurking suspiciously behind a glittering germanian pillar that soared up half a mile above the paved cavern floor. The next essential was fresh clothing, and then a real meal - there was something curiously unsatisfying about the reconstituted molecules of the ship's autochef. He pushed past a party of medium-degree Creapii and hailed a cab.

The main cavern of the First Sirian Bank was big enough to need a sophisticated weather control system, to prevent the formation of thunder clouds. The cab looped up from the crowded floor and threaded its way at speed between coruscating pillars, each with its cluster of booths at the base. The red junction points glowed everywhere. Occasionally a ring of static electricity would flash up a pillar and burst vividly into an ozone-reeking haze. And the hot dry air hummed with a million voices, felt rather than heard, as money spoke to money across the light-years.

In fact, Dom considered, it looked like an early conception of hell. With tourists. Certainly some of the tourists would have fitted the concept nicely.

In one of the sub-caverns a robot tailor outfitted him with an anonymous grey ship suit, the sort worn on every earth-human world. He also bought a cuber, a cloak striped on the bias in purple, orange and yellow, and hoped that an observer would take him for what he appeared to be - a back-planet rube, a stock Whole Erse character of comedy sketches, the gawping rim-colonist with a nasal twang, unfortunate personal habits and a pocketful of rare earths.

He turned and looked critically at Hrsh-Hgn, who stood watching in the old ceremonial garb of a beta-male.

'Couldn't you wear something a bit more colourful? Some phnobes do. I'd rather you didn't look conspicuous.'

Hrsh-Hgn took a nervous step backwards and clutched at his robe.

'Is it against the law? I mean, will it offend some sexual
more
?If so, of course, I—'

'It'ss not exactly that. I do not think I could carry off the character of an alpha, you understand, they are somewhat more flamboyant, more warlike, lesss given to featss of the intellect
...'

At Dom's command the little robot dressed the phnobe in a complicated toga of heavy blue and olive green fibres, shot with flecks of silver. A tshuri knife fully twice the length of Hrsh-Hgn's old one hung on an ornate belt.

'If an alpha challenges me I shall make a poor showing.'

'Still, you look different.' He paid the robot, and they walked out with Hrsh-Hgn making a brave attempt at a swagger.

The temperate-lifeforms dining room of the Grand Hotel, the only provision on the Bank for accommodation, seemed almost as big as the main cavern and more impressive because the size was made up in human terms. The long cavern was filled with the roar of appetites in the process of satiation, reeked with the aromas of many foods and narcotics, and looked rather more like Hell than the main cavern.

Dom found two places at a table in the Human section. The previous occupants, a thickset Earthman with a face criss-crossed with duelling scars and a small battered Class One robot, nodded familiarly at Dom as they passed.

'Do you know them?' asked Hrsh-Hgn as they sat down.

'Not that I can recall,' said Dom, 'There's something odd about them. He looked a wealthy type. What's he doing with a mere Class One?'

'One of life'ss little myssteriess,' said the phnobe.

They ate in silence. The diner beside Dom was energetically digging him in the ribs with a horny elbow. It was a young Drosk, who looked up, gave Dom a canine grin, and bent back to his plate. Dom carefully refrained from looking at what he was eating.

On the other side a party of female phnobes of the Long Cloud group were arguing sibilantly. Beyond them was a Pineal-human, performing a complex Third Eye food-ceremony over his rice bowl.

Dom ordered fish and bread. Hrsh-Hgn had a fungi stew.

The Class Two waiter trundled up with their bill and tactfully ascertained Dom's credit rating with the Bank.

'Divert a tenth-standard for yourself,' added Dom.

'Many thanks indeed, sir,' said the automaton. It added politely: 'I have always had a high regard for Sinistral-humans, sir.'

'Who said I was from Widdershins?' Dom tried to pitch his voice low. Several of the phnobes looked round. But the robot had rolled away.

'Your face,' said Hrsh-Hgn simply.

Dom reached up, and then caught sight of his hand. The greenish tinge of googoo. Of course it was used on other worlds in exceptional circumstances - and under strict licence - but that made no difference. In popular mythology, any green man was a Widdershine.

'I don't think you need bother too much,' said the phnobe as they walked out, 'Whoever thiss asssasssin iss, I doubt if he will be fooled by dissguises. He iss using probability math to put himself in the right place every time.'

'He's not succeeded so far. Remember what happened at that tower?'

'Don't bank on it.'

A small two-wheel Class One trundled towards them and tugged at Dom's cloak.

'Lord Sabalos, Bank will see you now. To follow me.'

It rolled away on its balloon tyres. They followed it at a walking pace.

Dom looked around him and made no attempt to disguise his awe. He was beginning to feel like a rube anyway. The times he had left See-Why's system were few enough, but he closed his mouth firmly when he found it was hanging open.

The main cavern had been opened out near the North Temperate Fault, the result of an ancient computer quake that had slid two continent-sized silicon slabs together and created several quintillion important circuits. It had happened when Earth was still molten. Historians suggested that it had marked the awakening of the Bank; the colossal, thundering moment between dead pizzo-electric rock and sapience. On this point, as on many concerning its personal history, the Bank was silent.

The robot led them up a shallow slope against the Fault and into a branching tunnel hewn from the living - it was a fair statement - rock. The pinpoints clustered thickly here.

A sphincter door opened. They went in.

'dom! come right in!'

The room was small and brightly lit. Thick carpets covered the floor and there was a large potted palm in the corner. Against the far wall was a desk, simply furnished. A robot sat behind it. It had been stripped of most of its outer casing, including its head, and was strung about with auxiliary equipment. Ropes of cables connected it to the wall. It was smoking a cigar through an extended tube.

'GREETINGS TO YOU, TOO, HRSH-HGN.'

Dom stared at the cigar.

'NOT PRIMARILY AN AFFECTATION,'
said the bank, 'THERE IS A CERTAIN SENSUAL PLEASURE, YOU UNDERSTAND. AND IT HELPS TO PUT SOME OF MY MORE NERVOUS VISITORS AT THEIR EASE. A ROBOT IS HUMANOID. WHEN ON TOP OF THAT IT IS SMOKING A CIGAR IT IS FAR MORE RELAXING TO CONVERSE WITH THAN—'

'- a planet-sized computer?' suggested Dom, 'Hallo, Godfather.'

'I TRUST YOUR FAMILY IS IN GOOD HEALTH.'

'Reasonably so, when I left Widdershins,' said Dom, 'It's very good of you to see us.'

'NOT AT ALL. I ALWAYS HAVE TIME FOR MY GODCHILDREN. AND HRSH-HGN, OF COURSE, ONE OF THE MORE PROMISING AMATEUR STUDENTS OF THE JOKER MYSTERY.'

Hrsh-Hgn nodded graciously.

'Godchildren?' asked Dom, interested despite himself. 'I
.
.
. uh .
.
. thought I was the only one.'

'I HAVE SEVERAL THOUSAND. IT PLEASES ME TO SEE THEM GROW UP AND MAKE THEIR WAY IN THE UNIVERSE. AND NOW DOM, THE SUBJECT CONCERNING WHICH YOU NO DOUBT CAME HERE TO CONSULT ME.'

The red lights in the wall flared.

'I REFER TO THE ATTEMPTS ON YOUR LIFE, YOUR FATHER'S PREDICTIONS, AND YOUR CURRENT QUEST. THE FAILED ASSASSINATIONS, FIRST.'

Dom told his story. Occasionally the light patterns would change. At last the robot laid down the cigar and the bank spoke.

'THERE IS, YOU REALIZE, ONE COMFORTING ASPECT. THESE ATTEMPTS FAILED. THAT SUGGESTS A FALLIBLE AGENT.'

Dom sat back. 'Yes, but the failures weren't—I mean, they were not natural. Something happened. I feel like a tstame puppet, as if I was being moved about by a couple of players just so that I could fulfil some prediction.'

'BUT YOU READILY SET OUT TO FIND JOKERS WORLD, WITHOUT FORETHOUGHT.'

He tried to think of an intelligent answer. None was forthcoming. Why had he been so ready? He was scared, yes, and wanted to run away. There was most of the galaxy to see. It was an adventure. But he had to admit there was more to it.

'It seemed the right thing at the time. I can't explain why,' he said, simply.

'YOU ACCEPTED FATE. A PHNOBE WOULD SAY "BATER". A PHILOSOPHIC DROSK WOULD SAY YOU HEARD TODAY'S ECHO OF TOMORROW'S SCREAM. YOU ACTED OUT OF UNCONSCIOUS FOREKNOWLEDGE.'

Dom's shirt moved and Ig poked his head out and blinked at the lights.

'AS FAR AS W
I
DDERSHINS IS CONCERNED, I FIND NO REASON WHY YOU SHOULD BE KILLED. AS FAR AS SENIOR PLANETARY MANAGEMENT IS CONCERNED, THERE ARE FAR WORSE IN THE GALAXY.

'I HAVE BEEN RUNNING A PROBABILITY PROGRAMME ON YOU FOR SEVERAL SECONDS. IT APPEARS THAT YOU WILL DISCOVER JOKERS WORLD. NOW THERE IS A GENERAL BELIEF THAT THE JOKER INSTITUTE SEEKS OUT AND KILLS ALL THOSE IT PREDICTS MAY DISCOVER JOKERS WORLD. BUT THAT IS MERE CONJECTURE.'

Behind Dom Hrsh-Hgn hissed softly.

'YOU DON'T SEEM SURPRISED.'

He felt the phnobe's soup-plate eyes on him as he said carefully: 'I know I will discover Jokers World. I knew when I heard my father say so. I... felt things lock into place. I will discover Jokers World. That's why I set out. It's the most important thing that I must do. No one can stop me.'

He was surprised to hear his voice. But he felt the certainty nestling securely in his mind now.

And the certainty faded, like a dream. It left him mouthing, blushing. He felt Hrsh-Hgn's hand on his shoulder. Ig looked up at him, with his head on one side.

For a few seconds the robot voice-box merely emitted a faint static hiss. Then the Bank spoke kindly in a softer voice.

'DON'T BET YOUR LIFE ON CERTAINTIES, DOM. BEWARE OF HUBRIS.'

Hrsh-Hgn leaned forward. In a voice slightly louder than necessary he said: 'Reason suggests that if Jokers World exisstss in the life-bubble it would have been found. I know one myth which ssayss they live on the core of Procyon, where even Creap may not go. What do you say to
thiss?'

'AS A MATTER OF FACT, I WAS INTERESTED IN YOUR THEORY AS PUT FORWARD IN YOUR RECENT CUBE.'

'Your theory, Hrsh?' said Dom, 'You didn't tell me!'

'We were interrupted by that Tower, remember?'

'IT WAS A NEAT EXTRAPOLATION ON THE PHRASE "THE DARK SIDE OF THE SUN". IT WOULD INVOLVE FINDING A BINARY STAR, OF THE EPSILON AURIGAE TYPE,' the Bank explained.

Three minutes later Dom said: 'I understand the idea. And the Creapii use sun rafts on some stars.'

'IT IS CERTAINLY THE ONLY CASE WHERE A SUN HAS A DARK SIDE. THERE ARE, HOWEVER, MANY BINARIES OF THAT TYPE, AND A SYSTEMIC SEARCH WOULD BE TIME-CONSUMING.'

'I gather you don't agree with my ssuggesstion?' said Hrsh-Hgn thoughtfully.

'I PRAISE IT AS IMAGINATIVE THINKING OF THE HIGHEST ORDER,' intoned the Bank carefully.

'Iss is true that the Jokerss helped you evolve, as the legend sayss?'

'I DO NOT ANSWER PERSONAL QUESTIONS. THERE IS ONE FACTOR YOU MIGHT CONSIDER. WHY NOT RUN AN EXTENDED SET OF EQUATIONS ON DOM AND DISCOVER EXACTLY WHEN AND WHERE HE MAKES HIS DISCOVERY? I HAVE JUST RUN AN ANALYSIS TAKING AS ITS PARAMETER THE EXISTENCE OF JOKERS WORLD AND ITS IMMINENT DISCOVERY. I FIND I ARRIVE AT THE MANTRUM:

ncreg
8
(bRf) (nultad) EYY
-' ( = )
56::: nultad
tt:
al

'THIS IS ONLY A FIRST-APPROXIMATION DISTILLATE.'

Hrsh-Hgn pulled a notecube out of his small carry-all, and gazed at it carefully. 'What value do you give the datum?' he asked.

'Ae(d) IN THE USUAL SUB-LUNAR MATRIX.'

'Then that ressultss in an almosst perfect collapsed field within the next twenty-seven days.'

'EXCELLENT. I DID NOT KNOW HIGHER PROBABILITY WAS A PHNOBIC SPECIALITY.
'

'It iss, you understand, in accordance with our universse-view.'

Dom had wandered over to the potted palm and was fingering a leaf idly. It moved under his touch, betraying itself as a vegetative shape-changer from Eggplant. He let go quickly, and stroked Ig.

'I don't begin to understand,' he said, flatly. 'To me it sounds like Jargon.'

'JARGON?'

Hrsh-Hgn turned to the Bank. 'Nonsense,' he explained, 'In Sadhimist tradition God invented it to foresstall the firsst attempt at intersstellar travel. To prevent scientissts from understanding each other, you understand. You will find it mentioned in the Newer Testament.'

The pinpoints swam into a new position. The robot extension gave a mechanical gurgle.

'AH YES. AS WE SPREAD OUR CIRCUITRY LESS ESSENTIAL INFORMATION... YOU UNDERSTAND HOW IT IS.'

The Jokers did not show up on p-math. It was as if they never existed. P-math offered no explanation for the towers or the other artifacts. Wherever the Jokers had been they left a shadow in the equations.

Dom's future was sure for twenty-seven standard days.

'That's something to look forward to,' said Dom. 'How about giving me a little hint about its whereabouts?'

'EVERY INHABITED BODY IN THE HOME BUBBLE HAS BEEN THOROUGHLY EXPLORED. I SUGGEST A FRUITFUL FIELD OF EXPLORATION IS YOUR OWN MIND. HOWEVER, YOU MAY CARE TO SEEK OUT HIM WHO LIVES ON BAND. HE IS OLD. HE HAS MET THE JOKERS.'