Kingdom of Cages(65)

“Is that a generalization?” inquired Aleph innocently, filling the words with warmth and the colors of spring. “I thought the first principle was to treat each person as an absolute individual.”

“Yes, yes, all right.” Peda waved a wind to brush their images aside and return to the calm waters and sea smells. “Let’s not start sniping at each other. Obviously the people are not the only ones with an emotional stake here. I call a vote.” His words set automatic commands in motion and all images and sensations cleared from the convocation. Copies of the conversation appeared in front of her, text only, and Peda’s words filled in underneath them. “All in favor of letting Aleph’s Dionte direct the tempering reminders regarding the draft of Helice Trust for the Eden Project?”

The vote was swift among the twenty-four complexes, and the convocation listed the numbers for Aleph to store in permanent record. Nineteen voted yes, three voted no, and two abstained.

There was nothing more to do. Agreement had been reached on how this important advice should be given and who should be advised. Farewells were said and one by one the city-minds cut their connection to the convocation and returned their attention to their daily routines. Gem’s ID, however, stayed shining on the line.

“Aleph?” said Gem softly.

“Yes?”

“We are friends, yes? I may give you advice?”

Aleph tried to laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. So she sent across a rainbow spray of bubbles. “Of course you may. Such a question!”

Gem added the image of a river trout swimming furtively through her bubbles. “Perhaps you should share your thoughts with more than just Dionte.”

“Gem, not you too.” She sighed, sending back the sour taste of disappointment.

“Of course not me too.” Gem stilled her sending and refused to accept it. “Don’t be ridiculous. However, we always have to be sensitive to appearances.…”

Irritated, Aleph puffed up a vision of an ancient gossipy woman chattering at an audience of pigeons. “Cheth’s grumblings are not comments on appearance.”

Gem crossed the image out. “Actually they are.”

A wave of stubbornness surged through Aleph, leaving her confused. Where did this come from? This was Gem she was talking to. He only had Pandora and the people in his concerns.

“I will remember everything you’ve said,” she told him.

Light scents reached her, bringing feelings of wistfulness and delicate hope. “And act on it?”

“And act on it,” she agreed, sending him her young girl image with its right hand raised. “If you will let me go?”

He joined the image with his teenage boy, dark, bright-eyed, and earnest, clasping her girl’s hand. “Let me know how things progress, Aleph. Take care.”

“Take care, Gem.” Her girl saluted his boy and he returned the salute, adding a whiff of sandalwood and a touch of warmth for friendship.

Gem closed their connection and Aleph returned her attention to herself. As a matter of routine, she ordered reports from her major inorganic subsystems. Everything was as it should be—the dome was in good repair, the people in good health, security in order. She had appointments to supervise Conscience downloads in an hour. The downloads always required her complete focus so she could fully analyze each Conscience’s findings and discuss with her people any adjustments to life and health that needed to be made so that they would feel less worry and less guilt in the future.

Still, an hour was plenty of time to speak to Dionte.

Aleph called for Dionte’s personal file and refreshed her memory of Dionte’s normal schedule. She turned on her eyes in the four most likely places.

She saw Dionte in the substructure, down among the plates and props that protected the organic matter of Aleph’s mind. As a Guardian, Dionte had to constantly refresh and expand her knowledge of artificial neural structures, and consequently she spent a great deal of time studying Aleph’s physiology, and Aleph was pleased to assist Dionte in her understanding. Dionte had even taken up a second apprenticeship as a tender under the instruction of her uncle Hagin.

“Hello, Dionte.” Aleph spoke from the wall closest to Dionte’s ear.

“Hello, Aleph,” Dionte replied, selecting one of the needlelike probes from the sterile cabinet. “What did the convocation think of our decision?”

Aleph manifested an image of herself on the wall for Dionte to see—a woman of about Dionte’s age with black hair hanging in a long braid down the back of her white robe. She made the image smile. “All worries. You know how we are.”