Готовый перевод Звездопад / Starfall: Глава 28

Chapter 28
* * *

Sometimes there is no choice. No matter how much you would like otherwise, reality puts you in front of the facts and you have to choose only your attitude to this fact. The fact itself falls outside the bounds of the possible and selectable, becoming a mere given.

It was just such a case. It was obvious from the face of the chief of medical service that he very much did not want to give Alex bad news, and Alex very much did not want to hear bad news from the chief of his medical service, but they were both like two oncoming trains on the same track, doomed to face the inevitable. It was so quiet that it seemed to be possible to hear the mental brakes grinding, foreshadowing this crescendo of inevitability, while the chief medical officer, not noticing the awkward pause, tried to pick up verbal laces that could at least somehow smooth out the inevitable.

“Something wrong with the scan?” Alexa asked muffledly. The frantic thought work reflected on the Chief of Medicine's tense face did not promise good news. He, while waiting for the results, had managed to exhaust himself with thoughts: “NotTaer - read the situation, but still let herself be scanned. Even if it was part of her plan to create evidence. But the footage of him shooting her with a needle would have been enough.

The recording, of course, was not much evidence under local law, not even evidence at all. But first of all, he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that NeTaer had organized a living witness, and secondly, it didn't matter. She had allowed herself to be scanned. So she was sure it wouldn't do anything. That it wasn't dangerous for her. That it wouldn't work. That it wouldn't get the guider out of her.

\\“Maybe she has some kind of shielding threads implanted in her head to protect her from scanning?” He wouldn't be surprised at this point, which was why the first question was about the scans.

Chief of Medicine did not answer immediately, it took him a few seconds to realize that the question had sounded and to break away from his thoughts:

“No, Your Lordship, it went perfectly normal,” He replied pulling a pained, strained smile across his face. “Nominal procedure, as we say. Got the expected responses from the induced reaction tags.”

“Then...” Alex stretched, trying to suppress the involuntary irritation. He didn't like this walking around. “What's wrong, though?” Carefully separating the words again he asked. It didn't need face-reading skills to realize that something was very wrong. Something was wrong.

“Tags of induced reactions, Your Lordship.” The Chief of Medicine mumbled curtly, avoiding eye contact with 'his lordship. “They're present in most of the control sectors. Almost all of them.”

“I still don't understand.” He no longer felt the need to hide the anger in his voice.

“It takes too long to check every neuron, your lordship.” Chief of Medicine spoke even faster, as if he were in an exam and was now gibbering hopelessly over the only ticket he'd learned by heart, clearly aware that the grade was already going to be lamentable anyway. “Normal practice is to divide them into groups of a hundred thousand neurons, called sectors, and test a random one from the group. This allows you to quickly identify sectors with tags of induced reactions and then refine the specific structure...” He paused and finally looked into Alex's eyes and added:

“There are marker responses in most sectors, Your Lordship. It's too much...” The Chief of Medicine sighed, adding a careful, measured, vile sympathy to his voice that made Alex want to punch him in the face. “Scan results show that most of Dilthar's brain is labeled as artificially induced structures.”

Something like this was what he expected, some kind of deception:

"Some kind of disguise?" Alex clarified, confirming his doubts. "Did they mark everything so that it would be impossible to find where the guider was?"

“That's possible, too.” Cautiously, the Chief of Medicine nodded. “But...” he stretched out, starting to flee again with his gaze. “Adding a tag to an existing alive neuron is much more difficult than deploying an artificially grown one that has the markers in it originally.”

“Wait.” Alex frowned, trying to realize what he had heard. “So you're saying that Dilthar's brain is one massive guider - an artificial construct.”

“It appears so, your lordship.” The Chief of Medicine's hands spread and he reflexively pulled his head into his shoulders as if expecting to be shouted at.

“Is that even possible?” Asked Alex struggling with the cacophony of his thoughts, //“Those words of hers about there being no one to save, and that there is no Taer... A completely artificial construct? But why does she seem familiar to me, and say she knows me? How can an artificial mind know anyone?”.

“Well...” Stretched out the Chief of Medicine not knowing what the best answer would be. “It doesn't contradict what we know about what's possible, your lordship.”

“So this is some kind of known and common practice?” Alex raised his eyebrow involuntarily, looking at the Chief of Medicine with surprise. It was the first time Alex had heard of such a thing, but on the other hand: //“Maybe it's just rare?

"No, Your Lordship, it is by no means common.” He was hastily contradicted. "I confess, I've never heard of such a thing... but...” The Chief of Medicine waved his hands as if the answer were self-evident. "As soon as induced reactions became widespread, the possibility of doing something like this was theorized. An induced reaction of an entire layer of thought..... It's just...” He spread his hands again with a blank stare. "It's clearly against the Edict of Ethics, and insanely expensive. I mean millions of danarii expensive. Incredibly difficult. There are probably a lot of options that wouldn't be viable at all. And even a conventionally successful product would probably be mentally unstable. But it's technically possible, Your Lordship. Crazy, complicated, expensive, and most importantly, it's not clear why someone doing it at all, but it's possible."

“Suppose so.” Alex nodded, he wasn't going to argue with the local specialist about what was possible and what wasn't, but purely logically it was still strange. “If it's so complicated, insanely expensive and you've never heard of it. It makes sense that it's more of a disguise.” Alex voiced the only reasonable conclusion. “Isn't it?”

“I can't be sure Your Lordship, I'm not an expert on induced reactions.” Again the Chief of Medicine waved his hands in frustration. "But what I do know about them is that it's easier to reassemble the whole brain than mark every neuron."

"But you said that the testing is selective, didn't you?"

“Yes, quite so, your lordship.” The Chief of Medicine nodded frequently. “But what are the chances that by randomly selecting a neuron out of hundreds of thousands we'll come across the one that's been altered? Such coincidences are possible, but statistically so unlikely that...” He spread his hands again. “The chance is ghostly small.”

"What else can you say?" He asked tiredly, feeling his mind sinking into a kind of limbo just not knowing how to react to such information.

“The induced layer is not homogeneous. We found markers from three different guiders, and even pure original tissue, a decent portion of the hypothalamus - no markers at all. But it's quite small.” He added, clasping an imaginary nut in the air with his fingers and spreading his hands regretfully. “Insufficient even to control physiology let alone thinking. Guiders aren't equal either. One is quite small with an atypical structure and, if I may make an assumption, is most likely a copy of another species' neurostructure altogether. Judging by its location, it is connected with movement and unconditional reflexes. The other two are roughly equal in area and largely interpenetrate each other. Unfortunately, I can't say more than that.” He waved his hands. "This is where an expert is needed."

“Alex repeated idly, it wasn't a question, he didn't doubt the nurse's words. //“I can see why she let herself be scanned.” The realization fell like a heavy dust bag. //She found it profitable. Those words of hers about there being no one to save, and that there was no Taer... I didn't get the hint and I was given a demonstration. A demonstration....” He grasped at that word and allowed himself a few moments of desperate meaningless hope. //“Could it be a demonstration?” - After all, there were chances that the scan results had somehow been tampered with, or altered.

"How confident are you in the data you have obtained? Could there have been any interference with the equipment?"

"I...” The Chief of Medicine hesitated, obviously not expecting such a question. "I don't know, Your Lordship." He finally answered. "The equipment was placed in the tower where we were told it would be, and no special guards were posted at the scanners. I suppose that's a matter for the head of the guard."

"Okay, thank you. You're free for now, but I'll contact you if I have any questions as I review the report."

"Of course, your lordship.” The Chief of Medicine bowed hastily. "Whenever you like, of course."

He glanced at the Chief of Medicine's hasty retreat and looked thoughtfully at the office door as it closed behind him for a while before he reached for the communicator key.

"Tell them not to bother me for the next hour." He instructed his secretary droid. "Exceptions to be made only for emergencies and for calls from Lady Niazur." He'd asked Artala for help with the searches, and it would be the ultimate indecency to keep her waiting.

Having given the order, he extinguished the holo screen with the report hanging above the table, took out his personal communicator, whose number was known to literally three people, and turned to the window, plunging into contemplative waiting.

Dense streams of flyers like shimmering snakes flowed over the peaks of towers against the background of the pale lilac sky - at night the spectacle was more impressive, now thanks to the light and at the same time muted colors created a feeling of calm ordinariness:

//“Just the thing for waiting.” Alex waited for the suggestion. If he had any idea how Not Taer thought, this whole demonstration with scanning was arranged for a reason. She was after something, something she wanted to gain. So the demonstration had to be followed by an offer.

The shrill beeping of the comm went off half an hour later:

"Am I interrupting?” Taer murmured into the phone, ”It's a voice call, the video feed has been turned off on purpose."

"No, I've been waiting for your call."

“You shouldn't have said that.” Her soft laugh tickled his ear. “What woman would want to hear that she's become predictable? How are the results of my scan?” She asked in an already more serious tone.

"Worse than I'd expected," Alex admitted sincerely.

“Losing illusions is always painful.” The voice was full of genuine sympathy, but he'd learned enough about her way of speaking to know she was joking.

“It's all relative.” He hummed. “One thing can flow into another. Illusions become a reality and vice versa.”

“Given enough energy and chances...” She agreed but immediately faltered as if she'd remembered something more important. “Anyway, I'm on business.”

"I'm listening."

“I want to offer you a way to rid Taer of me, that's what you want, isn't it?"

“Not a fact, but let's assume.” He grinned, surprised at how true that answer was. Did he want to help Taher, yes, absolutely. But did he want to get rid of NotTaer? He didn't know and certainly didn't want to find out.

"Well, I'm willing to help with that. See, I need a body, but it doesn't have to be Taer."

\\“I gotta hand it to her...” - Alex mentally admired her. She managed to shock him again. -“I didn't expect that.”

"Is it worth discussing on the comm?” he asked aloud after a short pause to consider the answer carefully.

"Normally not, but I can now guarantee that no one is viewing this spectrum."

Alex thought about it, considering various options: //“What NeTaer said could be true, but she could also strengthen her negotiating position by building up dirt. - And the fact that he was a traitor was not a secret for NeTaer, but he didn't want to talk about it on the comm. “There's Lord Quezox and other well-wishers besides Not Taer.”

"Let me be paranoid." He replied aloud. "I'd love to hear the details of your proposal. But I'd like to hear them in a secure room where we can both communicate more freely."

"Not that I mind, but dating you is a pain in the ass." She laughed again. "I had to have my jacket repaired to fix the holes."

"This time we could both skip the prep work and then no fuss."

"All right, then." She graciously agreed. Making it clear by the tone of her voice that it was a favor. "When? Where?"

“I wasn't lying when I said I had to organize the searches.” Alex sighed with genuine regret. “That could set off a chain of events that would be out of my control, so I'm having trouble with specific dates right now. Let me contact you as soon as this situation is resolved. Can I use the number you're calling from now?”

"You can. I'll be waiting." She purred, and the comm beeped, indicating that the call had been finished.

"Curiouser and curiouser." Alex muttered, looking thoughtfully out the window. "Well, we'll see what kind of game it is, and what we can win in it."

The glistening snakes of traffic still hovered above the towers each time taking in new vehicles but remaining unchanged at the same time.

* * *

It was raining over the capital. The endless beat of the drops merged into a thunderous rustle that completely absorbed the usual noise of the city, turning the Imperial Security Service building across the street into a shaky blue shadow.

It's a real downpour and it's freezing cold.

"Do you sleep all the time?" Alex continued the interrupted conversation, chillyly exhaling clouds of vapor. "Only sleep, not even any training?"

"The need to repeat the same actions to maintain skills is a flaw specific to humans and their kind. The Сollectives did not find it necessary to reproduce this peculiarity in our creation." The interlocutor did not fit under the power canopy that protected him from the rain, and simply stood beside him, indifferent to the blows of the elements in his white spacesuit. His pleasant masculine baritone contrasted strongly with his appearance. A radially symmetrical octopod encased in a power suit.

Alex had met his kind before. One of Baroness Faith Istar's squires was also of this race, but still the “tribute warrior” made more than a strong impression up close. Four long legs, with two knees. One “upper” bent in the usual way and the other “lower” bent in the opposite direction. Now the legs were tucked so that the “upper” knees were just below eye level, but the warrior was still at least a head taller than Alex, and if he straightened his legs he would probably be four meters taller. Four arms were located with symmetry twist as if in the “gaps” between the legs, and not as long as legs, but still noticeably longer than human ones, and from the experience of previous meetings, Alex knew that they had eight eyes around the perimeter of the head stretched upwards, hidden now under the white helmet of the spacesuit. In their spacesuits, the Tribute “warriors” looked more like unusual robots than living beings:

\\“In some ways they are robots, or rather biorobots.” - Alex noted in his mind.

“Tribute Warriors” were artificially created living beings that the Сollectives had pledged to supply to the empire as tribute, for some long lost war.

“Isn't that a problem?” Out of boredom, he inquired. “Innate skills? Suddenly the nature of warfare will change significantly and require you to act in a completely different way, maybe even against your innate skills?”

"War never changes." The white giant objected calmly.

"And what if it did?" Alex continued to be curious, after all, he was stalling for time and it was much more interesting to do it during the conversation.

"Then the Collective would create a new generation." Replied he, with perfect indifference to the fate of his own generation in such a case.

//“Yeah, well, they don't seem to have a self-preservation instinct or fear of death.” - He remembered a short lecture on tribute warriors. “It's all been displaced somewhere higher, into a concern for the Collective.” On the one hand, it gave obvious advantages, on the other: “Unconditional readiness to sacrifice your own life for the sake of some structure, perhaps not even aware of your existence, and in any case in principle indifferent to your fate.... It's kind of creepy. It would be easier if “tribute warriors” were not reasoning machines like droids... Although droids can also reason...”. - But the thought of sending machines, even intelligent ones, to their deaths didn't make him as uncomfortable as it did with living beings.

//“Maybe it's biological chauvinism,” he smiled at his own thoughts. - “Or maybe it's just a pattern that works - if a living being sacrifices something, there must be some compensation, if not for him personally, at least for his descendants and relatives”.

//“I wonder if Artala is compensating them?” thought Alex as he watched the human team at work. “The sacrifices are obvious.”

Ahead, on the other side of the road, Imperial Intelligence operatives, striped by the gray lashes of the downpour, with sealed containers in their hands, quickly jumped out of the doors and, in a few leaps over the sidewalk boiling with drops, hid in the aircars standing near the front entrance, only to run out into the rain again a few seconds later.

The silhouettes of their water-darkened uniforms quickly melted into the gray veil as if disappearing from reality, and the “tribute warriors” standing in the outer cordon resembled bizarre ghosts. The orange glow of the holographic strips of the fence played on their milky white armor, emphasizing the unusual four-sided symmetry of their bodies. And beyond the orange strips of the fence, dozens of photoreceptor eyes glowed scarlet on the dark, shapeless carcass of the crowd, the skin of plastic raincoats glistening wetly in the twilight.

//“The press...”.-Alex grumbled once again.-“Surely they couldn't miss such an event as a search at the main office of the imperial security service.”

He could have sworn that all the red lights of the droid cameras were focused on him. Which, of course, wasn't true; at least some of them must have been looking at the press secretary, who was now doing the front.

//“But it's an appetizer.” He was going to be the main course for that red-eyed monster anyway.

//“Should I go to them already?” - Once again he asked himself. -"I've already dragged this out as long as I can. What's the point of delaying the inevitable?”

But again he turned his back to the press. He was already sick at heart, and he didn't want to make it worse before the time:

"Isn't it boring? Sleeping all the time?” he asked aloud.

"We have interesting dreams." Alex thought there was a hint of irony in Blue-34's synthesized baritone.

Tribute Warriors usually had no names, only a color-numeric code, and an assigned function. Blue-34 was responsible for “public relations”, and played the role of commander of the “tribute warriors” when circumstances demanded it. Like now, for example. Because they had no commander either, decisions were made simultaneously by all the soldiers. For humans, such soldier democracy would most likely lead to complete paralysis of control, but for radially symmetrical octopods with built-in telepathy on radio waves, it worked quite well.

"Not bad." Alex nodded, more to his own thoughts than in response to his interlocutor, thoughtfully watching the process of “collecting physical evidence and seizing data storage devices”.

The “Seeker” scouts weren't supposed to have rain shields for security reasons. His guards literally panicked when Lord Cassard and the “serious energy sources” were in direct line of sight of each other. And the intelligence officers were not supposed to wear raincoats like the assembled press for reasons of uniform appearance. They were all wet through, and most likely chilled to the bone, but they loaded the seized “evidence” cheerfully, even with gusto. It must have been the effect of the known rivalry between the Security Service and Intelligence, and thus they were happy to “claw the side” of their sworn friends even in the freezing downpour.

//Or maybe some kind of compensation was promised.

"Your Lordship.” came a pitiful voice from behind.

It was one of his new subordinates from the ergo seneschal's service, the coordinator of communications with the journalistic fraternity, and the assistant press secretary. Unlike the scouts, the seneschal's service did not shy away from raincoats, and the aide wore a white plastic poncho over his uniform.

“The press conference is winding down and you promised...” The coordinator's voice at this point became quite pleading.

"Yes, of course, I'll do it.” Alex nodded with a sigh and signaled his guards to move towards the orange lines of the holo-fence, along with the power canopy hovering above it.

//“No matter how long you put off the unpleasant, it will catch up with you.”

// “Unless you dump it on someone else, of course.”

As he approached, the shapeless, multi-eyed creature became agitated, wriggled, crunching its plastic raincoats, and suddenly rose sharply on its haunches, spewing upward a thousand-headed stream of droids that seemed about to crash down on him in a red-eyed wave and bury him underneath. But at the last moment, the droids froze, not daring to cross the magical line of the holo-fence, and purring engines sprawled apart in search of more favorable angles.

“The Lordship Prince is very busy, he will only be able to answer four questions.” The spokesman did not even try to hide the joy in his voice as he announced his appearance, and stepped back, dignifiedly ignoring the disgruntled murmurs of the journalists gathered outside the fence.

"Your Lordship, did you coordinate your decision to search with the Emperor?" The owner of the voice was not visible behind the red light of the photoreceptors and the reflections on the wet cloaks. But the voice was not interrupted by others, so it was probably an important and influential voice.

"Of course.” Alex nodded and then jabbed his finger at the pretty journalist he was eyeing. ”Next question, please." Whoever's voice was, he wasn't going to let it drag him into a heated political discussion.

“What do you suspect the Imperial Security Service of?” The journalist rambled on with absolutely no confusion at all. “How did Lord Quezox react to what was going on?”

“I don't suspect the Imperial Security Service, much less Lord Quezox.” With the utmost calmness, Alex refuted. It was an expected question, and he already had an answer prepared. “It is suspected that some members of the Security Service, possibly former, have used their official powers and connections, with criminal intent.” He continued, adding regret to his voice. “The investigation will have to show whether or not this is true.” Here he added a bit of genuine hope. “And hopefully clear the name of the Imperial Security Service from any suspicion. The staff of the Security Service and its new head realize this, and are currently giving the investigation all the cooperation they can.”

"Next."

“Why did you turn to Imperial Intelligence for help? Why didn't you utilize the resources of House Fyron?” It was also an expected question.

//“Because I was turned down. First rudely, then politely, but very firmly, and I had to ask Artala for a favor.” - And if the rejection from the local office was more than expected. But the refusal from House Fyron's Own Intelligence Service took him by surprise. Alex had gotten too used to relying on them lately. But he didn't say it out loud, of course.

“As you must know, the service of an ergo seneschal is relatively small.” He sighed with a slight bitterness. “And simply not capable of conducting investigations of this magnitude alone. In the past, outside help has also been called in in such cases, so there's nothing strange about it. Why intelligence? It's obvious.” He waved his hands with a slight smile. “Intelligence is the closest Imperial agency to the task, it would be easier for them to figure out what's going on. And why weren't the resources of House Fyron utilized? It should be obvious to me that not only House Fyron nobles were attacked, but others as well. And in such a situation, I think it's more appropriate to rely on the Imperial agencies to investigate so no one feels any bias.”

"Next."

This time he was answered by a cacophony of shouts from dozens of daring journalists, all of whom, however, were asking approximately the same question:

"What is the role of Lady Admiral Niazur? Will Lady Niazur appear before us? Is it true that Admiral Niazur and Lord Quezox have a personal conflict?"

It was a convenient excuse to end the press conference early before the really uncomfortable questions started coming up:

“I can't speak for Admiral Niazur.” Alex waved his hands. “Now if you'll excuse me, honored ones, but I have much to do.”

The answer was an indignant roar, but Alex didn't pay attention to it and turned his back to the press. It was time to devote time to his other duties, especially since the bracelet hidden under the sleeve of his uniform was persistently pulsing with electric shocks, warning of an urgent call.

"What happened?" Alex pulled out his communicator only after he hid from the press behind one of his security bots standing across a small park, right in front of the main SS building.

" Your Lordship, Peleng Admiral Niazur has sent word to your Lordship...” his ever-eloquent droid-secretary rattled on.

“Is it really important?” Alex asked tiredly, not waiting for the titling to end. He was actually hiding from Artala, though he was eternally grateful for her help, but he didn't have the moral strength for social interactions right now. And the droid-secretary had been warned about that.

"Peleng Admiral Niazur believes there is resistance to the investigation and deems it necessary to use“tribute warriors..."

“I got it,” Alex replied briefly. “Tell the Peleng Admiral I'll be right there. Where is she now, by the way?”

"Main building, minus level three Your Lordship."

Putting the comm away, he turned to the guards standing in a semicircle around him at a respectful distance:

"We're going to the main building."

This was clearly not a false alarm. Given Artala's general dashing and maximalism, it could really come down to “use of force” which wasn't in his plans. //“At least not yet.”

The SB building was austere and, by local standards, modestly furnished - something reminiscent of the style of Soviet bureaucracy of the 70s. Simple rectangular shapes, wood trim. It was also empty, except for the scouts “conducting seizures". The local staff seemed to evaporate before he appeared, leaving in the endless corridors of polished wood only a few sentries, who were not allowed to evaporate by the statute, so they stayed, seeing off Alex's small detachment with looks full of unconcealed hatred.

The searches were a slap in the face to the Imperial Security Service, and its officials didn't exactly hide their emotions about it.

// “I've made a little more enemies... Or a lot.” Alex glanced indifferently at the next guard - they stood in special niches near the doors leading from the stairs to the floor. The guards forbade him to use the unchecked elevator, so on every stairs, he was met with a new hateful look.

//“Not that it would make any difference. They were trying to kill me anyway.”

He found the princess in some faceless corridor together with the new “chief investigator” of the ergo-seneschal's service - Vimo Derbal. Alex had specifically invented this position for a Sain Major. Or rather, a retired major. He had only recently retired from the service, so he was in a modest civilian suit. Artala, in her role as “Lady Director,” was dressed in the white tunic of a peleng admiral. Her guards were also dressed in white, and opposite her, a gloomy speck in a black SS uniform loomed lonely in the form of Sain Captain Toal Ispart, the second deputy of the “Lord Director” Quezox. The Lord Director was not present at the search, referring to business, as, incidentally, Nadina ...

//“Malicious, I guess.” Alex grinned at his thoughts. -“They're coordinating their next move.”

There was a more prosaic explanation. Nadina might not want the searches to be associated with her in any way. Purely for political reasons. Why should she go to all that trouble? Because Baroness Tayor wasn't there either. However, the Baroness was formally his “deputy” in the Admiralty and therefore had nothing to do with it.

"What happened, gentlemen?" Alex asked, nodding politely to the crowd. "And the ladies."

“Obstructing the investigation.” Artala theatrically splayed her hands. “Sain captain.” She nodded toward the grim-looking SS officer. “Won't let us seize information from their main cluster.”

Despite her complaints, Artala was clearly in high spirits, her eyes shining with happiness.

//“Considering how frighteningly enthusiastic she was about the possibility of searching the SB, it's not surprising. - Alex thought at first that she would have to be persuaded, but it turned out to be the other way around. - “I can see why there are rumors of some personal animosity between Quezox and Artala”.

"I've already told you a thousand times.” The security officer rolled his eyes tiredly. ”It's just not possible. Impossible."

"How so?" Alex raised his eyebrow defiantly. "Then we should make it possible and feasible."

“Come Your Lordship.” Sain Captain Ispart waved his hand somewhere further down the corridor. “I have already shown the Lady Director, see for yourself, and realize that what you are asking is simply impossible.”

Without waiting for his reaction, the Security Officer turned around and walked in the direction indicated.

Looking at the back of the departing SS-man, Alex could only shrug his shoulders. //-The Sain-Captain seemed to be struggling with dealing with Artala.

"You won't mind, Prince, if I keep you company, will you?" Artala asked with a sly face, taking him under her arm and dragging him to follow the Security Officer.

“Can anyone be against your company?” Without thinking, Alex lied. He prefers to be left alone. //“Preferably for a couple of days, or even better weeks.”

"How was the press conference?" She asked quietly.

“Probably not bad.” He shrugged. “You should have participated, too. There was a lot of interest directed at you. Maybe you could find the time?”

“You bet I'd give them that much pleasure.” Artala snorted. “I have plenty of experience with ‘press conferences’, I've had enough.” She cut her off categorically.

Alex wanted to ask politely what was so terrible about the press conferences, but the conversation was interrupted naturally. They had come.

The corridor led them to a huge circular hall, or rather a well. One after another, the wall of the well had doors with the inscription “operator's room” and a number on laconic metal plates. A narrow ring of floor around the perimeter of the well was fenced with glass railings, and further down there was a dip downward, illuminated by a line of light around the entire perimeter.

“There!” Captain Ispart exclaimed triumphantly, spreading his arms as if trying to emphasize the grandeur of the sight before them. “This is the Сentral Сluster. Everything is the Сentral Сluster.”

Alex approached the railing, a rising stream of warm air was pulling from the well, the rings of floors went deeper for another hundred meters, massive metal cabinets blinked with control lights on each of them. These must have been the elements of the main cluster.

“Is it just the size that's the problem?” He inquired, stepping back from the edge and turning back to the Sain Captain again. “I believe we can provide the necessary machinery for dismantling. Albeit with a slight delay.”

“Well, no, Your Lordship.” Captain Ispart objected, clearly irritated either by Alex's lack of comprehension or by the fact that he had to say it again. “It's not the size of the cluster, or rather not just the size of the cluster. It's not a normal cluster.” He explained with a weary sigh. “This is a large free logic system. And in this case, it's not like the military, where 'free logic' is just the ability to decide on a target, it's actually free logic, no limits on thinking, full ability to learn and self-learn. It's a full-fledged artificial intelligence.”

“I still don't understand what the problem is,” Alex admitted sincerely, watching with interest as the captain slowly lost his temper.

In response, he walked quickly to one of the doors and, with obviously more force than necessary, clicked the key on the control panel embedded in the jamb.

The door opened, revealing a rather impersonal one-person office - a black chair, a dark gray desk made of some obscure material - probably plastic. The desk was empty except for a neat black projector column in one corner.

"System! Cancel confidential projection mode." The captain spoke loudly, addressing the emptiness of the office. "Introduce yourself to his lordship Prince Cassard. Explain why your dismantling is not possible."

A small star of a light source shone on top of the projector bar. The air in front of the table shuddered, and the image of a girl in the black uniform of the Imperial Security Service appeared on a holo screen that flashed out of existence.

“Glad to greet Your Lordship.” The girl had a melodious but very electronic voice, which unmistakably pointed to the droid, and she was a bit average. She was a kind of collective image. A neat, executive brunette in a needlepoint uniform, as if from a poster - Join our ranks.

"I am a large cluster of free logic “System KN-1438C”, or, if it pleases Your Lordship, simply, “System”. I humbly ask Your Lordship to consider the possibility of refusing my dismantling, and to listen to my arguments why such dismantling is detrimental to the interests of the Empire."

"And why is that?" Alex played along, watching this demonstration with interest.

"Analysis of applications on all open labor exchanges of Weylar-Talis, shows that the search for specialists capable of carrying out a correct disconnection and dismantling of all my systems will take at least half a decade..." Her voice was not completely mechanical, there were some tones and shades in it, but very muted, as if quite a live speaker was reading out information completely unrelated to him:

"The work itself will take another decade. Installation in the new location at least half a decade. That's two decades, Your Lordship, but there's also the inquisition factor. I don't think it's too implausible to assume that it will take at least another decade to get all the necessary permits and clearances for the staff. It turns out that the normal work of the Imperial Security Service, in case of my removal, will be disrupted for at least three decades, of course, such a thing is not in the interests of the Empire."

"Very interesting." Alex smiled again. "What's the Inquisition factor, what do they have to do with it?"

"Working with free logic clusters like me is separately regulated by the Inquisition. Personnel must be authorized to work with B+ clusters, the room must be checked for isolation from external networks, and specially linked logic observer clusters, in my case no less than six, must be deployed to monitor authorized external communication lines before they can be turned on. I have not been able to find examples of all these procedures being completed in a short time, so the estimate of one decade is my guess."

"Good." Alex nodded, he hadn't thought about the Inquisition. "These strictures apply to the interaction with the cluster on?"

"Quite right, Your Lordship.” SS-man nodded. "Since this model has no inherent limitations, it can only be operated directly by specially authorized personnel. I don't mean to exaggerate the threat. Our System is heir to an incredibly stable line of large clusters. It's the ninth generation, and the previous eight have all served flawlessly. But rules are rules.” The Sain Captain said, ”Especially rules imposed by the Inquisition." He added, showing that there was nothing he could do about it.

"The Inquisition is just one of the imperial agencies.” Alex snapped at him. "They're not above the Law, and they're not above the Court."

He had spent a lot of time consulting with the best lawyers, and now he realized that the judicial system here had a frightening amount of power, especially the Court of Bloody Grievances, which dealt with the nobility. The only one who could overturn its decision was the Emperor himself. And that was only because, technically speaking, it was still a state of emergency. //“ Like the last twenty-five years, or however long it's been since the Guild Wars began.” - His Imperial Majesty was clearly in no hurry to lift it. //” Why should he be? It's convenient.”

"So we have a super-intelligent cluster here," Alex said out loud. "To work with which you need special authorization."

"My intellectual powers are no greater than those of the average man, Your Lordship.” said the System cautiously. "Perhaps even inferior. But I am many times faster, and capable of parallel tasks."

"That's great." Alex nodded to her, in another time he would have jumped at the chance to talk to the local super-computer, but now he was in a bad mood and had more pressing problems.

"But we don't need the cluster to be in working order, do we?" He continued, turning to Major Derbal. “We just need the memory, don't we?"

"There are technical difficulties with that, Your Lordship,” his newly minted chief investigator grumbled. ”This model stores data not as lines of records in a database, but as the sum of the state vectors of the whole system. I didn't really understand all the technicalities myself." He added with a sigh. "But it turns out that if the system is turned off, its memory is absolutely useless. Of course, we can create some kind of memory interpreter, but the complexity of this is comparable to the creation of another such cluster."

"There! You see!" The Security Officer exclaimed triumphantly. "Disconnection is simply impossible. It's impossible.” He said it again in syllables, clearly addressing the princess, but she ignored him."

“Well, why not?” Alex interrupted him. “Where there's a will, there's a way. There's no way we can leave such an important piece of evidence behind.”

And that statement was pure truth. Back when they were planning the search, Major Derbal had speculated that the designer drug used in Taer's interrogation might have been created with the help of a super-powered cluster. Not literally created, of course, some bio-lab was doing that, but calculated. And the SS had both, a super-powered cluster and a bio-lab.

//“Probably more than one,” Alex added mentally. “But they must have erased everything really important.” But he wasn't going to leave such a source of information untouched anyway. - “Haste, excesses of the executor, something could have been left behind.”

“Isn't there some kind of piecemeal seizure?” He asked aloud, addressing everyone at once. //“They've probably already discussed this option.”

“Disabling the unit while it's running will cause damage comparable to a stroke in a human.” The system answered as Alex thought a little too hastily to seem indifferent. “Damage to the logic circuits is inevitable, even a complete collapse of the entire logic layer is possible. My ability to function will be greatly reduced or completely lost, this could lead to serious security breaches.”

“Well that, of course, we'll try to avoid.” He assured the girl on the screen to the apparent delight of the sein captain. “Loss of serviceability of course. Let's dispense with dismantling in that case.” He continued, turning to Major Derbal, and before the SS officer could get too excited, he continued the thought. “We'll have to allow investigators and experts access to the cluster within the SS building.”

"But it's completely uncomfortable..." The SS-man started to say, but was interrupted by Alex:

"I haven't finished my thought yet, Sain Major. Wait." He made a remark, and after a defiant pause, he continued. "The cluster will be maintained and it is obvious that in this case there is a risk of interference - manipulation of evidence. Therefore, security personnel will be denied access to the cluster for the duration of the investigation, and guards will be posted to ensure this."

Alex turned to his guards:

"Contact the commander of the tribute warriors, tell him I've ordered a guard posted here. Access for other personnel is by my visa, the visa of the Chief Investigator, or the visa of Peleng Admiral Niazur...."

//«7h4nk5 m8t».

Alex interrupted, jammed the edge of his eye on that mishmash of symbols, printed in large pale blue font, which for a moment replaced the image of the System girl on the holo-screen.

He blinked slowly - there were no symbols.

He glanced furtively around at the others, the flushed Sain Major sniffing angrily at the Prince, Artala reveling in the spectacle, the guards looking around rather than at the screen. But at least none of them acted as if they'd seen something strange.

//It seemed?

Внимание! Этот перевод, возможно, ещё не готов.
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Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/84793/571949

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP