“I’m not about museums,” she said, “I’m not supposed to be, at any rate. It’s just a side thought. I have to do so many other things. God, Sam. I’m studying. I’m studying all day long. I’m learning the things I’m supposed to, psych, and design, and genetics, and I spend so long at deepstudy I’m starting to go into deepstate without the damn pills, sometimes so I don’t even know I’m doing it. But when I have thoughts that aren’t on‑topic I have to shed them, I just have to turn them loose and shed them or go crazy, because I haven’t got time to do them, and my museum is a thought like that. I had it. I want to get rid of it but I don’t want to lose it, and I’m going to be busy, so you do it, Sam.”
“Ari.” He reached out and gripped her shoulders–a contact Florian and Catlin would allow very few people–and kissed her on the forehead. “Take a break, Ari. Take a day off and take a break.”
She sighed, rested her hands on his arms, looked him closely in the eyes. “You’re a genius, you know it. You really are.”
“That’s a laugh.” He dropped the contact. “That’s the last thing I am.”
“I know it when I see it. You are. Always were. Sam, Take care of yourself. I mean that.”
“Is there any special reason you should say that?”
“Selfishness. I need you. I’ll always need you. I’ll think of you when I’m studying that wretched population equation till my eyes cross.”
Second kiss, this one on the cheek. Like a brother, if she’d been born with one. She’d never had sex with Sam. Never would. That wasn’t the way they were with each other. “You just take care of yourself, Ari, hear me? You’re going too hard, again. But what’s new about that?”
She was so tired, she felt tears start in her eyes, but she wouldn’t shed them. She laughed, instead. “I’m paying for this place,” she said, “or I will. I’m starting real work. High time I earn my keep, I say. You’ll see.”
“Good for you,” Sam said and let her go. And he probably did see the dampness of her eyes and had the common sense not to fuss over it.
It was a rare morning. The bash and clatter of hollow forms and the whine of cutters was hundreds of workers and bots busy keeping Sam’s promises. She made her own promises as they walked back to the exit, and the runabout: that by summer and move‑in, she was going to be in a position to take care of Sam.
Pay for it, indeed. Her whole life paid for it.
Just watch, she said to Yanni, in absentia. Just watch. The first Ari developed most of what we do–what every lab in the wide universe does. I’m starting where she finished. I’ve run through the teaching tapes in three months: everything but this last couple of weeks was basic, and I’m into her notes, and I’m doing integrations. I’ll be working on gammas soon. Alpha sets before New Year’s. Strassenberg population sets by next year. I’ll be able. I’ll know what I’m doing, Yanni.
And that’s not empty bragging. That’s the truth.
BOOK TWO Section 1 Chapter iii
MAY 10, 2424
1328H
Information, encouragingly abundant, in Florian’s opinion, had begun flowing along new channels. The new security team, and the domestic staff, were finally due to arrive for duty in Wing One. The security team was ready as of now, since ReseuneSec had finished their documentation–but they weren’t setting foot in Wing One, and neither were the domestics, until Justin and Grant finished their report, which they said would take longer than they thought.
And there’d been a problem. Justin was waiting on getting general manuals from Library indefinitely postponed, as they found out, because Justin’sinquiry had triggered security alerts, and Justin hadn’t been aware that lower ReseuneSec levels were investigating his request and stalling it purposefully until the probe had gotten high enough in the ReseuneSec system–namely Hicks’ office–to contact sera’s office–as the ones with their finger on Justin.
That was a mistake on their own part, as Florian saw it: they should have foreseen that Justin’s inquiry might have raised a flag–considering his connections. Sera had called Yanni, Yanni had called Hicks, and Hicks had sent out an order to free those items up, so they’d finally gotten to Justin…days late, but ten minutes after sera had found it out.
Catlin had requested a few more rounds of tape‑study on protocols for the security group, to keep them busy until Justin could do his work. The new domestic staff, meanwhile, had finished their preparation and passed sera’s final scrutiny, and they might be brought in once their manuals cleared–much simpler than the ReseuneSec lot, so, given Justin’s prior problems with clearance, Florian called up Hicks’ office and made his own personal request, firmly–which got other manuals liberated, to him, at least, who couldn’t read them–and who had no permission on file to have them. He took them personally to Justin’s office, solving one more bottleneck, and stacking more work on Justin and Grant, who were working extra hours and taking computer time running interface studies among sera’s staff. Most household staffs didn’t get that degree of lookover, but sera’s wasn’t the sort that could ever discharge a member and have them easily plugged in elsewhere. There was too much special knowledge: there were too many security issues.
So they delayed that, too, and by now Justin and Grant were running short of sleep.
But today their own promised ReseuneSec authorization clearances had come through, an apparently earnest demonstration of Hicks’ good will, a pass alleged to give them access to anything in ReseuneSec files, inside Reseune itself–and to ride ReseuneSec access through any door in the outside world–well, any door ReseuneSec itself could pass.
Any door? They tested their new access, just running through local files…not using Base One, but a system‑free set of computers they used for handling any outside contact. They could display the second‑system content on the same set of screens as Base One, they could keyboard to the alternate system from the same station, or switch back and forth between operating systems in absolute security–Florian was rather proud of that finesse. He’d done a fair amount of set‑up, connecting up what would be the new security facility downstairs, so that all of it, the new office and residency as yet unoccupied, and the outpouring of ReseuneSec’s version of classified material via their new link, came smoothly into their office via the same secure pipe–a pipe that flowed both ways, but didn’t ever breach Base One’s isolation.
Everything from those two sources, ReseuneSec and their own upcoming security office, once it had staff, would dump to the system‑free computers in their office, to be carefully gone over before anythingtouched a Base One computer. Base One could reach out to it, read‑only, would compare what ReseuneSec files contained against what it could find internally, and deliver that daily report, too.
There were, on the daily sheet from ReseuneSec, no current takedown operations anywhere in Reseune.
There was a tolerably serious matter involving stolen meds from a pharmacy…case solved. They’d argue that one in court. Base One had interesting information on that: the pilferer was an employee with previous security issues. That would stop.
The list went on, including actionable adultery, minor theft, public nuisance, and other CIT misbehaviors. Azi were rarely involved in any such goings‑on, and if they were, the motives tended to be very different.
“Quiet day,” Catlin remarked.
Real‑time access to ReseuneSec’s daily logs provided them a window on a level of ordinary misdeed they hadn’t hitherto investigated. It was interesting, to pick up the pulse of the house. The town itself, down the hill, had its own brand of mischief: the drunken theft of a tractor, and the destruction of a piglot fence down in AG–the individual was charged the repairs. There had been minor pilferage in the food production unit, solved with a reprimand.
Far from the focus of their interest. Too much concentration on CIT actions could be, for one thing, stultifying, things over which an azi simply had to shake his head in slight puzzlement, never grasping the nature of the fault–except to say it broke rules by which born‑men in responsible jobs and relationships were supposed to abide.