Дэймон Найт - Orbit 4

“I like to come up here on my lunch time,” she said. “Your pct came running across the deck like his tail was on fire. He just grabbed that ladder and started up. I could tell he didn’t like climbing, but he was terrified of whatever was chasing him. Every few rungs, he’d stop and try to come down. I—T just had to do something.”

As she spoke these words, Grimm arrived on the mast deck. Tatja ran over and inspected Ancho with a careful, expert eye.

She didn’t say anything for several seconds, though she favored the girl with a long, calculating glance. Could Tatja be jealous? thought Svir, surprised. The girl scrambled to her feet and bowed slightly to the Science Editor. Finally Tatja turned to Hedrigs and smiled. “Svir Hed-rigs, be introduced to Apprentice Proofreader Coronadas Ascuasenya. Coronadas Ascuasenya, Parallax Astronomer Svir Hedrigs.”

“Pleased.” The girl bowed again and smiled hesitantly.

“Tatja, Coronadas climbed almost to the top of the mast to save Ancho.”

“Yes, we saw from down below. That was a brave rescue.” She petted Ancho. “I just hope we haven’t wrecked the dorfox. We were fools to take him along this morning.” She looked up at the sun, which was just past the zenith. “We might as well get some dinner. It’s too late to start any training. We can begin this evening.” She picked up Ancho and they all descended to the lower docks.

The sun was three hours down before they began. The night was clear and Seraph’s light brought a bluish sheen to the sea. Tatja had used paperboard partitions to simulate a hallway within Benesh’s Keep. She had constructed the mockup on a portion of the deck out of the wind and hidden from the view of other ships.

“I’ll admit it’s pretty crude, Svir, but for the first trials we don’t need anything elaborate. The dimensions are the same as inside the. castle. You can see there are a couple of side passages opening off the main one.” Hedrigs moved to the entrance of the maze. It certainly wasn’t very convincing. The ceiling of the passage was purple sky. Posted at regular intervals down the forty-foot passage were company sailors simulating Royal Guardsmen. They didn’t seem too certain just what was expected of them.

Tatja petted Ancho gently. “We want Ancho to hallucinate these ‘Guardsmen.’ It’s going to take some training, but I want Ancho to convince whoever he points those pretty ears at, that you and he constitute an authority figure.”

Svir was surprised. “Is that possible? Ancho isn’t very smart, you know. It seems to me that in order to generate a detailed illusion, Ancho would have to be humanly intelligent.”

Tatja shook her head and grinned. “Nope. The intelligence of the victim provides all the background detail. I’ve spent several months on Dorfox Island, and I know things like that are possible. C’mon, let’s start, or we’ll still be at it when we pull into Bayfast.”

Ancho was sometimes sleeoy during night wake periods, but he perked up noticeably when Tatja had a large bowl of rehydrated klig leaves brought on deck. He strained against Hedrigs’ hands, but the astronomer wouldn’t let him at the leaves. The dorfox was going to have to earn his treats. Svir’s father had often played games like this with Ancho, and had managed to teach the animal a number of tricks.

Svir stood up and put the dorfox on his shoulder. The “guardsmen” had assumed their posts in the passageway. The only woman among them was Cor Ascuasenya, who stood at the far end of the mockup. Tatja stood behind Hedrigs. In this position, she could watch what happened with relative immunity, since Ancho was not likely to turn around and broadcast in her direction.

“All right, Svir, give it a walk-through. We’ll see if Ancho will give us a demonstration,” said Tatja.

Hedrigs walked slowly through the mockup. Everything seemed quite normal. But then, Ancho rarely aimed his hallucinations at his master.

When he was through, Tatja asked the first sailor what he had seen.

The fellow looked at her a little blankly. “What do you mean? When are you going to start the test?” The others were similarly confused. None of them had been conscious of Svir or Ancho as they walked down the hall. Tatja unfastened the lid on the klig bowl.

“That was a good performance,” she said. “Ancho managed to scan every person as you walked past. Now we have to make him try his other effects, till he produces exactly what we’re looking for.” She fed Ancho two leaves. The little mammal sucked on them greedily, momentarily enraptured. When he was done he reached out for more, but Tatja had already relocked the basket. He had done well, but a larger award must await an even better performance.

Svir petted the dorfox. Ancho appeared to enjoy the game. “You know, Tatja, Ancho is really dependable with that Fm-not-here signal. And he can scan a lot of people at once. Why don’t you settle for that, without trying for something more sophisticated?”

“It’s not enough, Svir. You’re going to have to go all the way to the center of the Keep—to the vault where the most precious sacrifices are kept. With Ancho’s I’m-not-here, you probably could steal the Guards’ keys. But what if some of the doors have combination locks? You need more than the Guards’ passive acceptance. They must actively help you. And there are more than ten thousand volumes in the Fantasie collection. That comes to at least two tons. You’re going to need help getting them out.” She picked up her noteboard and pen. “Let’s try it again.”

And again. And again.

Ancho soon learned that anything he tried would earn him some reward, but that if he repeated a previous performance, the prize was smaller. So he tried to come up with a new effect on each try. They soon exhausted the natural dorfox responses—the instinctive responses which served so well on the dorfox’s native island. Some of these could drive predators away, or dull their senses. Others attracted insects and lulled their suspicions.

Ancho also tried the tricks he had been taught since arriving in civilization. On one pass, all the crewmen in the passage broke into fits of hysterical laughter. Ascua-senya had the giggles fifteen minutes after Ancho came by. What they saw was hilariously funny, though they couldn’t explain to Tatja and Svir just why.

And though Tatja did her best to pace the work, the project became a grind. The sailors were especially tired. Ancho had put them through an emotional wringer. In one twenty-minute period, he made them laugh and cry. The dorfox had responded eagerly to all the attention showered upon him, but now was beginning to lose interest.

For the hundredth time, Svir started down the mock passageway. He was surprised at the degree of respect and obedience these sailors showed Tatja. She must have more authority on the Barge than her title indicated. When she made a suggestion in her low pleasant voice, people jumped. It was evidence how the best people rose to the top in any organization. What had he done to deserve her?

But it was beginning to look as though she was wrong about Ancho. Apparently this was one trick the dorfox couldn’t do. Maybe it was just as well. Hedrigs wasn’t really eager to stick his nose into the business of Tar Benesh.

“Damn it, man, stand up straight when you walk!” It took Svir an astonished second to realize that Tatja was speaking to him. “Come back and start over. How can you expect the dorfox to cast an illusion of authority if you drag about like an addled triform student?”

Hedrigs bit back a sharp reply. He walked to the beginning and started over. He almost swaggered down the passageway, imitating the gait of a Crownesse Bureaucrat he had once seen at a university dinner in Krirsarque. The effect was subtle. Suddenly Svir was no longer pretending. He actually felt important and powerful—the way he had always imagined politicians and generals feel. It seemed only natural that the sailors should snap to attention as he passed them. He returned their brace with an informal salute. The feeling of power disappeared when he came to the end of the passage.