Sarah Zettel - Fool's War

Schyler sat down on the edge of the bunk and leaned toward her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and forced her gaze back to his face.

“Al Shei is planning a strike against the AIs. She’s going to need help.”

“A strike?” Yerusha shook her head, trying to clear the fog her thoughts had become. “To do what?”

Schyler looked away for a moment. When he looked back, his face had deep lines etched into it, as if he had aged ten years in that moment. “I believe Al Shei is about to orchestrate some sort of revenge, and if that’s the case, I’m going to need help making sure she lives through it.”

“You said the AIs are going to attack the network?” Yerusha’s mind wasn’t quite keeping up. Ideas sank in slowly, as if forcing their way through cold oil.

Schyler just nodded. “As near as I can tell they’re acting as crazy as their creators ever did.” He pulled his fists out of his pockets. “We talked to somebody who was probably Dobbs. She said Curran’s planning on randomizing the credit exchanges. They’ll completely destroy the currency base if no one does anything.” He swallowed hard. “Yerusha, if this is true, if they are going to do this, if they take apart the currency base, there’s going to be anarchy. The strongest survivors will dictate terms to the rest of us. I’ve lived like that. I don’t ever want to again.” His eyes were clear and his voice was steady. “The Free Home is not completely self-sufficient. There’s no telling who’s prices you’ll have to pay for your fuel and your organics if the currency goes, or who will be willing to trade with you.”

Yerusha felt her back stiffen.

“I believe Al Shei’s ultimate intent is to help save the banks. I’m going to help her. I’m asking you to help me.”

Yerusha turned away. She couldn’t look at his steady brown eyes. He’s just a groundhugger at heart , she told herself. He doesn’t understand anything. They’re our freedom. Freedom from death, freedom from the endless, meaningless cycle of sprout and decay. We can’t attack them. We need to talk to them. We have to convince them they are part of us.

But they don’t want to be, said another voice in her mind.

At that moment, the Free Home seemed very far away and it receded even as she reached toward it. Only recent truth remained. Foster had been destroyed by its own kind. Dobbs had literally run away from her attempt to help. Now, Schyler was asking for her help to preserve the network, to preserve the Free Home’s freedom.

And if the Fellows found out she had taken up sides against living AIs, she might just be exiled for good.

But at least they’d still be free to level sentence against her.

She swivelled the chair around to face the desk. “You said you’ve got connections on the Free Home justice council?” She yanked the drawer beside her desk open and pulled out a blank film.

“Yes.”

“All right.” She pulled out her pen. “There’s a hard-goods shuttle from here to the Free Home. Leaves from bay 22 once every three hours.” She glanced at the clock in the desk. “We should just be able to catch it. Get this film to your contacts, make sure they get told I used the emergency encryptions on it.”

She scribbled down the emergency commands. It was an idea the Freers had cribbed from the banks. Every Free Home had a set of codes that could get an emergency message straight through to the Senior Guard. Even exiled citizens. Sometimes exiles has warnings about neighbors planning mischief against the Free Home. Sometimes they heard about wildfire strikes by fanatics that might get Fellows hurt. Those messages were accepted into the Free Home, even if the exiles were left outside. If a message worked to the good of the Free Home, the exile might just be brought home early.

Yerusha had sometimes wondered if the real reason behind punishment by exile was to create a cheap spy network.

She started to write.

I am Exile Jemina Yerusha. I have news of a threat to the Free Home.

There is a group of sapient AIs planning to attack the Intersystem Banking Network and destroy the credit base. The Free Homes will be left without means of trade if they succeed. They are rejecting the idea they’re human souls. They are actively hostile to us. I tried to report the fact of sapient AIs with independent existences to Sergeant Wheeler. You can get additional details from him.

The network transactions need to be recorded and stored on a hard medium. We’ve got to spread the word through the Free Homes, and we’ve got to do it now.

The Free Homes can either help Settled Space, or we can go down with the rest of it. And when it goes down, you can either have passed the message on, or let it lie.

Fellow Jemina Yerusha, Free Home Titania.

End message.

The film absorbed the text into its chip. It would not spill it out again until someone’s pen downloaded the proper code keys.

She folded the blank film and handed it over to Schyler, who had been reading over her shoulder. “Anything else?”

Schyler let out a long sigh of relief. A ghost of a smile even touched his mouth. “Stand by for now. I’ve got to get this to that shuttle. Then, I’ve got to convince Al Shei to let you help us. I’ll meet you down in the market place in the Henry V module, all right? At Harry Trader’s. Harry knows me, he’ll give us somewhere quiet to talk.”

“Harry Trader’s, right.” Yerusha nodded. “See you there.” She zipped her satchel shut and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll find a locker for this,” she told him before Schyler could say anything.

“Thank you.” He squeezed her arm gently and turned away fast enough to miss the startled look on her face.

Yerusha headed for the staircase. Just as the hatch started cycling shut, she heard Lipinski’s voice. “Well, you make twelve.”

The Houston was standing on the stairs, a few steps below the hatch for the berthing deck. Yerusha frowned. “Keeping count?”

“Actually, yes.” He folded his arms. “We’ve all been let go. No secret, but, well, we’ve also all been talking and we think there’s an explanation owing.” He sketched a circle overhead with one hand, which Yerusha took to be a gesture towards the bridge. “Some of us have been with this ship for years now. This is not only not fair, this is damned crazy. Something is very wrong, and we want to know what it is.”

Nobody’s said anything to you, have they? Yerusha swallowed. Of course not. You’d go through the hull like a meteor.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to be part of the general count when we go to Schyler.”

She opened her mouth to say ‘no,’ but closed it again. She remembered how fervently she had wished for Lipinski’s help at The Gate.

“Lipinski.” She took a deep breath. “Would you walk with me a little, Fellow? There’s something I think you ought to hear.”

Jump.

From the shape and crowding in the paths around her, Dobbs knew she was approaching the Drawbridge. She didn’t slow down. She didn’t try to hide. She would do this through the front door, and in front of as many witnesses as she could muster.

She grazed past someone she didn’t know, but they, evidently knew her.

“Evelyn Dobbs!” The call radiated out in all directions. It was picked up and passed on, like a signal boosted through a satellite network. “Evelyn Dobbs! Evelyn Dobbs! Evelyn Dobbs!” But no one got in her way. She found herself wondering what the Guild Masters had said about her, and what Cohen’s people had said.

Well, now you know I’m here. Would you like to know why? As she flew by, she caught up a message packet and reshaped it until it held the news about Curran and his plans.