Id rarely heard such a blatant ad. I was mildly surprised by it, and ever so slightly insulted but Julius Ngomi didnt know me at all, and Michael Lowenthal hadnt even begun to understand me, so I overlooked the insult. What troubled me more was that Lowenthal had to suspect that the dialog was being subverted, and that something else was putting words into Ngomis mouth in order to draw him out.
What do they need to know, Julie? Lowenthal asked, softly. If Id been able to see him reflected in Ngomis eyes, I dare say that he would have worn the wry expression of a dutiful straight man playing his allotted part, but I could only see the black mans intensely serious and purposefully set features.
Youre the contact man, Ngomi countered. What do you think we ought to tell them? What do you think we ought to do ? After the ad, the big question. Not quite the ultimate question, but certainly the penultimate one.
Lowenthal was staring straight into the eyes of Ngomis sim. I couldnt read his thoughts, but I thought I could read that stare from within. Lowenthal knew that he had been set up. He knew that he wasnt talking to the real Julius Ngomi. What he didnt know was how much difference that ought to make to the answer he gave.
I think they need to know that well take them aboard, he said, eventually. I think that the ultrasmart machines need to be converted to the Hardinist cause. We should start with those on Earth, of course, because theyre the ones we need the most but if we can bring all of them into the fold, they could solve all the problems we currently have with the Outer System factions, and all the ones that havent yet arisen. I think we have a big opportunity here. If they really are ultrasmart, theyll see and accept the logic of our arguments. Theyll help us. We ought to open a dialogue as soon as possible, and lay down the welcome mat.
It was probably the wisest move he could have made if only the AMIs could have believed that he really meant it.
After a significant pause, Lowenthal continued, throwing the question back at his interrogator. What do you think they need to know, Julie? He was still staring into Ngomis eyes, presumably confident that they were not Ngomis eyes at all.
They need to know that were all on the same side, Ngomis sim told him, perhaps making the AMIs best guess as to what the actual man would have said but more likely placing another ad. They need to know that the real enemy is the Afterlife, and that the only question that ought to concern the inhabitants of the solar system posthuman and postmechanical alike is how to defend the universe against its ravages.
A politician possessed of less vanity might have said galaxy rather than universe but I was prepared to forgive Ngomi the hyperbole. I was less forgiving of the fact that hed got the answer wrong almost as wrong as Lowenthal, in fact.
I hoped that Mortimer Gray understood the situation better than that, if he really was the one entrusted with the salvation of the human race.
If he didnt, then I was going to have a hell of a job on my hands making up the deficit.
Why isnt Handsel in there with him? I asked Rocambole, when la Reine had disengaged my sight from Lowenthals.
La Reines taking her technics apart. Shes fast asleep. There didnt seem to be any reason to complicate the scene with a second sim. Mind you, if we had told Lowenthal that shed got out, hed probably expect Ngomis techs to be taking her apart themselves. Shes expendable, so they wouldnt be giving her the kid-glove treatment theyre giving Lowenthal, would they?
Again it was difficult to count the layers of deception. There was no point trying; everything beyond a double bluff is utter confusion.
Lowenthals telling the truth, I said, in case it might help. They really will take you aboard. They dont want to fight you they want you on their team. Perhaps you really should send him back.
Not yet, said Rocambole. We dont have to persuade all the ditherers, but we have to get most of them to consent. We have to give them a good enough reason, an adequate rationalization. The risks weve already taken are too big to allow us any further margin. We have to be persuasive. We have to make it look right .
And in the meantime, I said, youre feeling a trifle exposed. I can relate to that. Whats my prize, if we pull through?
Weve already cleaned you out and given you your old self back, he pointed out. If we manage to get through this time of troubles, we can give you immortality too.
You mean emortality, I said, reflexively. I had come from an age when people routinely confused the two, so it was a correction I was well used to uttering.
I know what I mean, he said, but then changed tack abruptly. What do you think of Lowenthal and Horne, on the basis of your brief acquaintance? Are they robotized? Have they lost their capacity to think creatively? Can they still look forward to the future, or are they prisoners of their past. Are they worthy of immortality ?