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Dwarf MacIntosh last time: "Educate, agitate, organize."
Flattery had organized the world. Now Beatriz wanted to use that organization
against him.
Communication would do it. People had their bodies. Coordination of all
those bodies would be the key to their freedom.
How to get away with it?
Maybe she couldn't get away with it. What kind of message would she deliver
then?
It might save Ben and Rico, too, she thought, though in a part of her
somewhere they were already beginning to disappear. She tried to make her
shocked and exhausted mind think through all that had happened in the past
twenty-four hours, all that there was to go.
I've got to get to Mack, she thought. That is, if Brood hasn't . . . hasn't .
. .
She wouldn't allow herself to complete the thought. She concentrated on what
she had to work with. This small studio aboard the Orbiter had been her
project all along, her excuse to stay close to the stars. It was a little
larger than the one at launch site. Flattery had had it installed to be sure
that the Voidship project received the best documentation, the best publicity,
the world's complete attention. She knew now what its primary purpose had
been all along -- diversion, something to keep people looking up while
Flattery stole their boots.
The studio was divided into six engineering units and the one live set where
Beatriz worked.
Quarters were very cramped. Six editing screens and a couple of very large
clocks kept them in touch with the world. A constant barrage of images rolled
across the six screens as the editorial team groundside reviewed the day's
film from the field and made their selections. There was a small holo stage
in the center of the room for final mock-up and a large viewscreen behind it.
Both the clocks and the growl in her belly told her things she didn't want to
know.
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"Three hours to air time," she said.
Her console indicated she was speaking into a dead microphone.
She raised her voice. "We're five hours behind schedule."
No answer. The techs worked as though she were a piece of furniture. They
relayed tapes of their own groundside for editing and placement.
Beatriz rolled her tape of the Organic Mental Core up one of the screens and
suppressed a shudder.
This was a person, a living, thinking brain, kept alive by attachment to a
comatose host. She wondered what it was that caused the coma. She was
certain that she knew who.
"I need to talk with Dr. MacIntosh," she said.
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This was not the first time she'd said it, and the response was always the
same -- silence. She'd received the silent treatment from the techs since
docking aboard the Orbiter. From the occasional glances in her direction she
surmised this to be orders from Brood, rather than choice.
Unlike counterparts of old, this OMC would be able to talk, using
neuroelectrical pickups. When the time came it could communicate with the
neuromusculature of the ship, feel everything that transpired aboard. This,
Flattery reasoned, would keep the OMC sane where the original OMCs had failed.
It was clear to Beatriz that Flattery didn't want to face the kind of
artificial consciousness that had brought humankind to Pandora. There were
those who believed that Ship still existed, and would return. The hyb tanks
that had brought Flattery, Mack and Alyssa Marsh were evidence to
Beatriz that Ship could be very much alive, God or not.
If I can get one of these techs to start talking, that would be a wedge
against Brood, she thought. And it might be a way to Mack.
Current Control and MacIntosh were only a few meters down the passageway.
Beatriz could practically feel the vibrations from his throaty speech, his
huge body bashing about his offices.
Current Control and the Holovision remote studio shared a few kilometers of
cable between them, but no hatchway. Both areas were soundproofed.
Beatriz tried to remember what Mack had taught her about their hookups. He'd
spent a lot of time orienting her during her trips aloft. What came to her
were his philosophies and musings, the relaxing tone of his deep voice. She
remembered nothing of the linkup between the two rooms. She had already tried
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