Ever since you were born, you have been coddled and spoiled. You have had only
the best of everything. You have been insulated from the outside world and its
ways. In the past few years, you have dared things that would have gotten any
other executed, no matter what her class or station, whether woman or man. I
knew that he was testing out and protecting his handiwork, but I, too, allowed
and excused it, although on different grounds. I knew that one day you would
have to face your own destiny and carry out the duties and responsibilities your
father intended for you, and we both knew that considering the spoiled and
self-centered world you lived in, this would not be possible without locally
adapting you.
The term locally adapting sent a chill up Song Ching’s spine. It meant that
her mind, her memories, her talents and abilities, her personality and attitudes
would be eliminated or manipulated and replaced with a far different and
radically inferior template—but that such changes, although accomplished by both
permanent psychochem-icals and reprogramming, would not be passed on in any way
to her offspring.
How can you let this happen? I am your daughter!
I could not stop it. Deep down, you know that. It is too important to your
father. Still, I can remember the cold, and the mud, and the hunger gnawing at
the pit of my stomach. I will always remember it. You will never have that. You
will have your silks and perfumes, your fine food, servants, and all the rest.
You will not be a part of Administration, so you will not have to undergo memory
imprints and Withdrawal and all the rest. No man will have you as a wife as you
are. You have no sense of honor, duty, family, sacrifice, even love except for
yourself. I say that in shame, for I am partly to blame for it.
Who says I must have a husband, anyway? Why must women always defer to men? I’m
smarter than any man I ever met. I can do great things with the machines, maybe
greater ones if I continue my work and my studies. Am I a person or a test
animal?
Her mother had sighed. What first to answer? Men are dominant in our culture
because that is the way it has been for thousands of years, and the system
worked and survived and protected the people. Men are dominant in our culture
because the machines that make our rules decided to return to the ancient
culture where it was so. It cannot be changed. Even if it is not a good thing,
it cannot be changed. That would not be allowed. Any who try to change the
system are eliminated. You yourself know this. You saw the attack on the illegal
technologist fortress. Every nation, every culture of humanity, is set by
command. No alterations are allowed. Everyone who ever tried has failed
miserably. That is why your father thinks in the long term. His foundation is
his pride. He finds it intolerable to be subordinate. He has risen as high as
any can rise in our society—and he is still subordinate and still fearful of the
machines who spy on him, and he hates them. He is brilliant enough to know he
cannot defeat them. He is idealistic enough to hope that perhaps his
descendants, as a mighty dynasty, might find a way.
But it’s not fair! I didn’t ask for this!
The mere fact that you would make such a statement shows why above all else
this must be done. It is not fair that we must live some machine’s vision. It is
not fair that our destinies are predetermined. It is not fair that my brothers
and sisters grub in the mud while I scold maids for improper dusting. No one in
this world ever asked for what they got. No one has much choice. It is enough to
make the best out of what you have. It must be, for the only alternative is
death.
Her mother had paused a moment, then added, You ask why you cannot continue
your work. It is because you are dangerously close now to exposing the whole
family. Sooner or later you would try to beat the Master System, and that would
be the end of us.
The Master System can be beaten! We do it all the time!
No. The Master System can be cheated, which is not the same thing at all. It
knows we cheat. Unless we are incompetent enough or brazen enough to allow
ourselves to get caught at it, it doesn’t seem to mind because we cheaters do
not threaten it or the system. The fact that we can cheat and get away with
cheating is our moral authority to be the leaders and our badge of office to
Master System. You cannot defeat it, and you cannot resist trying. For your own
sake, we must prevent you from trying.
For your sake, you mean. Mother—this is no template. They are talking about
killing me, killing my mind, leaving only my body! My body will live, but
someone else, someone totally different, will be inside it! How can you allow
it?
There were tears in her mother’s eyes in spite of attempts to suppress them, but
her mother had simply sighed. I cannot stop it, she had replied, then turned
away and stalked quickly out of the room, leaving Song Ching alone.
Song Ching took dinner alone in her room, although she barely picked at it and
had no appetite. She looked at the silk bedding, the many fine clothes and
jewels there, the art and intricate tapestries, the perfumes and the rest, and
decided she’d trade them all for peasant’s garb and mud and thick rice if she
could just stop this from happening.
She needed to get back up to Center while there was still time. There, in her
own element, she felt she could cheat her father as she and he both cheated the
Master System. She had an advantage there, one which she was certain he did not
know about and which might prove useful, but if she was taken away and
immediately thrown into reprocessing, she knew she’d never have the chance.
For the first time she considered suicide. It would be honorable, certainly, and
would bring no disgrace on her family and friends, and it would be a way of
regaining control. They had given her the date of her death, but they expected
still to have a daughter and an experiment after that. By taking her own life,
she would cheat her father out of his damned dream and maybe make them all
regret this. From her point of view she would be no worse off, but she would
have a measure of both control and revenge. The more she thought of it, the more
attractive it became.
She had trouble getting to sleep, but finally she did doze off. Deep in the
night, however, she came suddenly awake, absolutely convinced that there was
someone else in her bedroom with her. There was someone! A large, dark shape
right at the foot of her bed!
I see that you are awakened, her father said. He clapped his hands, and a
servant brought in a lantern, then bowed and quickly exited. You greatly upset
your mother tonight. This in turn upsets me and threatens the family as well.
You force me to act to forestall drastic and irrational actions on the part of
one or the other of you. Get up and dress now for a journey. You are leaving
here this night.
She gasped, but there was never any thought of not obeying her father implicitly
when in his presence. He was that sort of man.
Please, honorable father, she said while dressing. May I be permitted to ask
where I am being taken?
You will go with a small detail of my most trusted men to the emergency skimmer
landing site and there be placed aboard and transported to Center for
reprocessing. It was not intended that you know about this at all, to spare you
and others mental anguish, but because you discovered it, there is no longer any
purpose in postponing it. It will be better for you and for everyone if it is
done quickly. He turned to the door. Captain!
A young officer, looking only half awake, entered and bowed. Sir?
You have your specific instructions and much latitude in completing this
business quickly, quietly, and successfully. You and your men understand well
what will happen to you all if anything is the least bit amiss at the end of
this?
Sir, they have all been informed and are eager to carry out your orders.
Then take this spoiled, self-centered brat with no honor within her and bring
me back a proper daughter!
The captain simply snapped to attention.
She was led out into the night and placed in a closed carriage. Two
nasty-looking and very determined soldiers sat across from her, and more were
stationed on the rear and atop the driver’s seat. No words were exchanged; they
were off as soon as she was aboard.
The night was cloudy and dark, so there would have been nothing to see of the
countryside even had the shades in the coach not been drawn. It took less than
an hour to reach the landing site, and the skimmer was already waiting. Her
father was never one to let the details slip.
The site was rarely used; in fact, she could not remember it ever being used. It
was there only because it was both out of view of the main roads and villages
and close enough to the big house for her father’s use in an extreme emergency.
Ordinarily, the rule was that no one see the skimmers if at all possible, and
the craft generally flew at high altitudes where they were invisible from the
ground and landed in remote, sealed-off areas.
Everything had happened so suddenly that she hadn’t had much chance to think,
and even though she was wide awake now, the whole scene still had an unreal,
dreamlike quality about it, as if it were happening to someone else and observed
from a distance.
The skimmer was a small five-seat courier ship built for speed rather than
cargo. There were pilot and copilot, then three seats across immediately in back
of them. Song Ching was flanked by the captain of the guard on one side and one
of the beefy soldiers from inside the coach on the other.
The captain got up and leaned over her, then pressed hard on her wrists. She was
startled and looked down to see that her wrists were now secured with thin but
very strong metal bands coming out of the seat.
A thousand pardons, my lady, but this was ordered, the captain said, sounding
really apologetic.
Her feet were positioned and strapped in place, then her seat harness was drawn
down and attached. None of the restraints were tight or really uncomfortable,
but she couldn’t move. This is not necessary, Captain, she protested, trying
to sound brave.
It is necessary because it is ordered, my lady, the man replied, settling back
into his seat and fastening his own harness. Your father believes that you are
very resourceful.
Resourceful, she thought glumly. Resourceful enough for what? To somehow
overpower all four men, steal the skimmer, and make a break for some place he
couldn’t find me?
The door closed with a solid chunk, the cabin was pressurized, and they took
off, rising straight up in the air, in a matter of minutes. The whole affair was
so well organized, she had to wonder about it.
Captain? Excuse me, but just when did my father give orders for all this?
He looked uncomfortable. Two days ago, my lady.
She nodded to herself. Two days ago. When she had first let slip that she knew
what was planned for her. Somehow that figured. Made her mother upset, huh?
The craft attained its approved altitude, then went forward, slowly at first but
with ever-increasing speed, pressing them all against their seat backs. She
could see the instrument board from her seat and watched the air speed indicator
climb until it finally slowed and halted at their cruising speed. She hadn’t
known that skimmers could go that fast. It was close to the speed of sound.
At this rate, they might well be back at Center by dawn.
If there was one place where Center was not, it was at or near a center. It was,