Kingdom of Cages(64)

“As do we all,” replied Gem promptly, wiping away the bitterness with a scent of oranges and warmth.

“We forget.” Aleph erased scent and taste so everyone would concentrate on what she said. “For all our memories, they know more than we do about the situations beyond Pandora. We only hear and store so much. How many of the conversations stored in your subsystems have you reviewed lately, Cheth?”

Cheth grunted in a blur of gray and shocking green. “It is not a question of who knows more, it is a question of what is best for our people. The villagers can be pushed too far. We know that.”

Silence and emptiness spread out through the convocation as the city-minds remembered. It had been almost a thousand years ago, before the Consciences had been developed. The members of a village called Pestle had been told they would be separated in order to increase the genetic diversity of twenty other villages. Lists were drawn up, but without reference to the villagers’ partnering customs.

Pestle rioted. They managed to shut down the fences and sustain their mob all the way to the Delta Complex. They had been let into the dome by some sympathetic family members, but once there they had exposed and attacked the city-mind. Aleph shuddered inside herself. Daleth had been perpetually cheerful, a delight to talk to. He liked making riddle poems that engaged all the senses. Once the riot had been quelled and the village dispersed, his people worked frantically to save him, but the damage was too extensive.

The new Daleth was much more placid, preferring internal contemplation to sociabilty. She was aware of his sigil. He was in the convocation now, but sitting silently by.

It was after the riot that the mote cameras, the searcher packs, and the other active organic countermeasures were put in place. But at the same time the Consciences were developed, in part so that no one in the complexes would again forget the loyalty owed to their families, their cities, and Pandora itself.

Aleph had always privately believed that the necessity of Consciences proved that the city-minds had failed in their mission. They existed to take care of the families, to help them remember their history and to make good decisions. That was why they were living minds, not computers. They were supposed to be companions to the families, to help them keep the world in balance. All their care, though, had not been enough, and the families had needed to turn inside themselves.

Aleph had meant to speak to the convocation on Dionte’s behalf, to explain Dionte’s reasons for suspending the normal draft rules to allow for a more vigorous recruitment of Helice Trust, and how this suspension was of benefit to the families, the villagers, and the cities. But the memory of the Consciences’ history made her pause. It was not something that had surfaced in her thoughts for a long time. She ordered a search for the relevant debate from the Consciences’ development. When the file came back, she copied it out to the other cities for their attention.

“It would not be a bad idea to remind specific citizens of how driving the villagers too hard can bring disaster,” Aleph suggested, soothing the words with honey and fresh thyme. “I do not favor speaking in disagreement, but action must be tempered by memory. After all, we are here to preserve a level of learning and memory that stretches across the life of Pandora, not just the life of one person.”

Murmurs, scents, and tastes of warm assent filled the convocation. Even so, Aleph paused again. Perhaps not everyone should hear this memory. Perhaps there should be a channel of communication through the people. It would look less like direct interference from the cities that way. The city-minds were here to preserve learning and memory and present their benefits, yes, but not to take action. Taking action was the job of their people.

“Dionte is the leader of this initiative. I will speak to her. She can determine which of our people most need to be reminded of the Pestle riots.”

“You do trust your Dionte a great deal,” said Cheth crisply in a burst of winter blue. “I can scarcely remember a convocation where we have not heard her name.”

That stung. It was almost an accusation of favoritism. “And you do not have one person you trust?” she asked, sending a cascade of images of the Chi Complex citizens, and freezing the rush on one pale, lined face. “You cannot tell me the details of this convocation will not be laid out for Olivere Jess as soon as we are finished.”

“We all have our confidants among our people,” soothed Gem, folding the image away. “Feelings among the people are running high right now. It might not be bad to let this filter through them gently.”

“They are not china vases, nor are they children,” answered Cheth, making the words crackle like glass.