John Wright - The Golden Age

the College."

Nebuchednezzar said, "The motion fails for the lack of support."

"I understand." She snapped open her fan and smiled. "I just wanted the record to reflect my perfect score." She delicately took her skirt by the knee, and with a slithering rustle of crimson crinoline, resumed her seat. Viviance Thrice Dozen, so far, had introduced that motion at every meeting both she and Asmodius had attended together.

Tsychandri-Manyu Tawne rose now to speak: "I am certain we are all moved by our visitor's sad tale of the harshness of Neptunian life. I also fail to see the relevance to our present discussion. Phaethon, at Lakshmi, agreed long ago to exile. This should be an utterly routine matter; all decisions have already been made; the time for discussion is past. Why do we continue to listen?"

The shadow spread its ghostly hands. "Forgive me. I forget that only your Silver-Gray and Dark-Gray Schools force their members to live through every hour of their lives in order. Only they suffer boredom, and learn patience. I thought my message was entirely clear. Perhaps it was not. Please forgive me; my thought speed is limited. I will attempt again. Listen:

"Please do not rob us of Phaethon's dream. Our outer habitats, so far from your sun's gravitational well, will be the preferred ports-of-call for future pilgrimages to and from Apha Centauri, Bernard's Star, and Wolfe 359. You live surrounded by wealth and comfort; to you the risks seem grave. We live in darkness, far from easily available supplies of energy and reaction-mass. To us, the risks seem worth of the glory of the quest. We do not ask you to take the risks. We only ask you not prevent Phaethon (and us) from taking the risks, and finding the destiny, we choose."

Gannis of Jupiter stood and spoke. "All of me are sorry. I and we know what it's like to live in a frontier; the Jovian moons, back before Ignition, were just rocks with a few mines and nanofacturing forests on them. We only had twenty beanstalks reaching down to the K-layer in the Jupiter atmosphere. Twenty! But no matter how nice this risky scheme and mad dream of Phaethon's might be for the Neptunian Tritonics, it's not the risk to them our duty as Hortators requires us to address. No, sir. They are free to take their own risks, and why not? But the risks to us, the very real risk that future colonies might inspire war and crime again, is a risk we must weigh. Suppose even one person should be murdered in some future war, or even one mind be deleted from the Noumenal Memory. Is this worth it? Maybe it's worth the risk to them,

to the danger seekers. I'm not saying Phaethon is suicidal; who knows what his motives are? I'm just saying that no man should aid and help his own destroyers. I've been aiding and helping Phaethon before this; he and I were friends once. Maybe I didn't think he would go through with it. Maybe I didn't think he would destroy us. But I see better now. I can't help him anymore. No matter what this College decides, not one more atom of Chrysadmantium is going to plate Phaethon's ship."

Diomedes turned his empty helmet toward Gannis. "Your concern for future crimes and wars, which may grow up if worlds in other systems flourish, I cannot disrespect. If even a single individual should die—this is tragedy. But in the other pan of the balance scales place that little death, which comes into your souls each time a little more of your freedom and initiative are lost. And a little more is lost each time you decide again never to venture forth from the shadow of the gigantic Sophotechs, who protect and smother you. When will it end? A future utterly determined is a future dead. You have all felt this. Haven't you all dreamed of star voyages and adventure? Your bodies will always remain alive, but many hopes and souls will die if the danger and the dream of star colonization is strangled. We Neptunians are too poor to resurrect that dream once it dies; none of you will ever again be brave enough to do as Phaethon has done, nor will the turning of the centuries bring new generations with new spirits into power in the Oecumene, because you are immortal. Therefore weigh the tragic death of that one soul of which Gannis speaks, but compare it to the many souls, the great soul of all mankind, which perishes if Phaethon's dream fails! Small price to pay, good Hortators. Small price to pay!"

Asmodius Bohost wondered in a loud and brassy voice: "I note how easy it is to call the price of a single death so small ... unless, of course, it happens to be one's own."

Tsychandri-Manyu Tawne spoke with heavy dignity: "When a single life is extinguished, that is as gross a tragedy as if the entire universe should end; for has not everything,

from the point of view of him who dies, indeed come to an end?"

Gannis spoke in tones of haughty scorn, "No one's life can be sacrificed merely to serve the use and pleasure of the whole. We are not a society of cannibals!"

Diomedes asked, "No one's life ... ? Not one ... ?"

Gannis: "Not even a single, solitary individual!"

Diomedes nodded his helmet of shadows toward Gannis. "I am most glad to hear you say this. I assume this doctrine applies to Phaethon as well? He is the individual, more single and more solitary than any of the rest of you, whom I would not see sacrificed."

Nebuchednezzar turned to Gannis, and said, "Gannis Hundred-mind, I am required to warn you that you must abstain from the upcoming vote on this matter. These proceedings are being broadcast to your constituents back in the Jovian system; if you should vote for Phaethon's exile, few Jovians would support you, regarding your motive as hypocrisy. The Jovians, you must recall, still regard themselves as an individualistic and pioneer-spirited society, and many of your supporters back home have ties to Neptunian and Saturnine space efforts. Everything Diomedes said will convince them."

Gannis sat down, but did not seem ill-humored. "I will not vote, but I will still speak against what Phaethon proposes. And, no matter who supports him, without my metal, his ship will not be built."

Diomedes said, "The Phoenix Exultant will be built. Perhaps smaller than designed, or perhaps with thinner armor, but you, Gannis, shall not stand in the way of Phaethon and his dream. Nothing shall stop him...."

And there was a note of triumph in his voice. "Nothing shall stop him."

But, even as he said this, his image began freezing, and then moving, freezing, and then moving, and his voice hissed into garble. The image of Diomedes collapsed, and was replaced by a flat two-dimensional window, with silent lines of text running across it, repeating Diomedes's last words.

"... Nothing shall stop him ... Mr. Asmodius! I would be more than happy to take you up on your offer. But I fear I no longer have a foot to stand upon. My name shall be changed as your pleasure and whim shall direct. I cannot afford dignity; I cannot afford to keep my name...."

Phaethon, who had been most eager to ask Diomedes about the identity and history of Xenophon, now saw he would have no chance. And no chance for a personal word with his friend. One of the Eleemosynary Composition stood and spread his palms, the gesture to indicate that he was opening additional channels out of his own stock, or contributing computer time.

The window icon representing Diomedes winked out. The Eleemosynary Composition said, "We are transmitting the partial of Diomedes back to his point of origin in Neptunian space. The drain on our resources is significant." Helion said, "I will contribute a dozen seconds." Gannis nodded, and held up four fingers. The other Hortators murmured agreement, and each contributed time or energy. The hundred people there could easily afford to return Diomedes Partial to his parent-mind, and some members of the White and Red Manors added software and customized routines as parting gifts, so that the partial would return with more wealth than was spent to send him here.