C. Cherryh - Cyteen

"Are you telling me, Dr. Warrick, that that transfer is what you're holding out for?"

"The transfer, Councillor. Myself. And my son. Then I would have no fear of expressing my opinions. Do you understand me? Most of us in the field that could speak with authority against the Hope project—are in Reseune. Without voices inside Science, without papers published—you understand that ideas don't gain currency. Xenology is strongly divided. The most compelling arguments are in our field. You do not have a majority in the nine electorates, Councillor. It's Science itself you have to crack, Ari Emory's own electorate. This, this psychogenesis project is very dear to her heart—so much her own, in fact, that she doesn't let her aides handle it. It's the time factor again. On the one hand, there's so very little in a lifetime. On the other—a process that involves a human life has so many hiatuses, so many periods when nothing but time will produce the results."

"Meaning we'll still have her to deal with."

"As long as she lives, definitely, you'll have her in Council to deal with. That's why the Fargone project is an advantage to both of us. I'd like to take a public position, on your side. An opposition from inside Reseune, as it were, particularly from another Special—would have considerable credibility in Science. But I can't do it now, as things are."

"The important question," Gorodin said, "aside from that: is the Rubin project likely to work? Is it real?"

"It's very likely that it will, Admiral. Certainly it's a much more valid effort than the Bok project was. You may know, we don't routinely create from the Specials' genesets. Even our genetic material is protected by statute. On a practical level, it's the old 'fine line' business—genius and insanity, you know. It's not total nonsense. When we create azi, the Alpha classes take far more testing and correction. Statistically speaking, of course. What went wrong with the Bok clone was what could have gone wrong with Bok, give or take her particular experiences, and influences we don't have record of. Our chances of recovering a currently living Special are much better. Better records, you understand. Bok came here as a colonist, her records went with her ship, and it was one of the de-built ones: too much was lost and too much just wasn't recorded. I'm not sure we ever will get Bok's talent back, but it certainly won't be in the present project. On the other hand—recovering, say, Kleigmann . . . who's, what?—pushing a century and a half. . . would be a real benefit."

"Or Emory herself," Corain said under his breath. "God. Is that her push? Immortality?"

"Only so far as any human might want progeny like himself. It's not immortality, certainly no sense of identity. We're talking about mental similarity, two individuals more like each other than identical twins tend to be, and without a dominant twin. Essentially the recovery of an ability latent in the interface between geneset and what we call tape in an azi."

"Done by tape?"

Warrick shook his head. "Can't be done with tape. Not by present understanding."

Corain thought it through again. And again.

"Meaning," Gorodin said, "that with our lead in genetics and reconstructive psych, we might replicate living Specials as well as dead ones."

"That is a possibility," Warrick said quietly, "if certain laws were changed. Practically—I'd speak against that. I understand why they're starting with one. But the potential for psychological trouble is very strong, even if the safeguards keep the two from meeting. Even dead ones– If I were such a subject—I'd worry about my son, and that individual—who would not, in any meaningful sense, be his brother; or his father. Do you see, it's very complicated when you're dealing with human lives? The Nine took a strong interest in the Bok case. Too strong. In this much I agree with Dr. Emory: only the Bureau of Science, in specific, only Reseune ought to have any contact with the two subjects. That's what she wants on Fargone. We're not talking about an office or a lab. We're talking about an enclave, a community Rubin will not leave except as I leave Reseune: rarely and with escorts for his protection."

"My God," Gorodin said, "Fargone will veto it."

"A separate orbiting facility. That's what she's had to promise Harogo. A compartmentalized area. Reseune will pay the construction."

"You know, then, what deals she's made."

"I happen to know that one. There may be others. That's a fat contract for certain construction companies at Fargone."

It rang true. All the way down. Corain gnawed his lip.

"Let me ask you a difficult question," Corain said. "If there were other information—"

"I would give it."

"If there were other information yet to come—"

"You're asking me to be an informant."

"A man of conscience. You know my principles. I know yours. It seems there's a great deal in common. Does Reseune own your conscience?"

"Even the admiral hasn't been able to requisition me. I'm a ward of the state. My residencies have to be approved by the Union government. That's the price of being a Special. The admiral will tell you: Reseune will call me essential. That's an automatic five votes of the Nine. That means I stay in Reseune. I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Councillor. I'm going to slip Adm. Gorodin a request for transfer, just as soon as that Special status is voted for Rubin, before the appropriations vote for the Hope Station project. Officially—that's when it will happen."

"God! You think you're worth a deal like that?"

"Councillor, —you can't win the Hope Station vote. DeFranco is in Ari's pocket. Or her bankbook, via Hayes Industries. The arrangement is– deFranco's going to try to abstain, which at least is going to show a little backbone for her constituency. Forget you heard that from me. But if you don't throw the vote into a tie and send the business into the General Council, it's inevitable. You buy me and my son out of Reseune, Councillor—and I'll start talking. I'll be worth far more—outside her direct surveillance, in the Reseune facility on Fargone. She might get Hope Station. But she can be stopped, Councillor. If you want a voice inside Science, I can be that."

It was a moment before Corain felt in command of his breathing. He looked at Lu, at Gorodin, suddenly trying to remember how Lu had maneuvered him into this meeting, suspecting these two dark eminences among the Nine, who played behind a screen of secrecies.

"You should go into politics," he said to Warrick then, and suddenly remembered to his disturbance who he was talking to: that this was a Reseune psychmaster, and that this mind was one of those twelve Union considered too precious to lose.

"Psych is my field," Warrick said, with a disturbing directness to his gaze, which no longer seemed ordinary, or harmless, or average. "I only want to practice it without harassment. I'm fully aware of politics, Councillor. I assure you it never leaves us, at Reseune. Nor we, it. Help me and I'll help you. It's that simple."

"It's not simple," Corain objected, but to Warrick it was. Whoever had drawn him into this meeting—be it Lu, be it Gorodin—be it Warrick—

He was not sure, suddenly, that it was not Emory. A man could grow insane, dealing with the potential in the Specials, especially those Specials who dealt with perception itself.

One had to trust someone sometime. Or nothing got done.

"The first bill on the agenda is number 2405, for the Bureau of Science. Ariane Emory sole sponsor, regarding the regular appropriations for the Bureau of Science, under the provisions of Union Statute 2595, section 2. . . ."

Emory looked Corain's way. Well? that half-lidded stare said. Will you defy me, over something so routine?