“Each of your parts is aware of every other one?” Svenbjorg asked. “They act with common purpose?”
“You are asking the same question over and over. The answer, again, is ‘yes.’ Please ask something-“
“He could well be lying,” Mossadegh said.
“There would be no reason for it. I have absolute power over you. The ones in this room and the billions on Earth as well. And on the other planets, if they were worth destroying.”
“I don’t believe you,” Tshombe said. “From this room you can-“
“Did you listen to me? I am not only in this room.”
“Even so-“
“I will explain in detail, then. Yes, I could kill all or most of you in this room by creating what this one calls a ‘feedback’ condition in your brains. This body of mine would also die.
“Killing your other billions will take longer. That’s what the ships at the near blue star . . . Sirius, are for. With a relatively simple maneuver they can upset the harmony of forces inside your sun, and make it explode.”
“Why?” Silverman broke the silence, her voice quavering. “Why in the holy name of God would you want to do that?”
“Is that a serious question?” No one replied. “It seems so obvious. You are expanding through my volume of space. I must either destroy you or arrive at a compromise as to. . . the use of this region.”
“That’s why you’re here, then?” Simmons said. “To negotiate over who gets what?”
“You do not listen either. As I said, I am here to explain your situation. There will be no negotiating.” It paused. “Would you negotiate with an ant over the rights to a piece of sugar? The rights to your house?”
“You called this meeting to gloat, then?” Simmons was almost shouting. “Why not just sneak up and blow us to hell without any warning?”
The L’vrai smiled. “That might have been the most humane course.”
“Humane,” Silverman scoffed. “You enjoy killing people. Don’t deny it, I’ve seen the cubes. You just want to prolong-“
Jacque made a noise between a laugh and a death rattle. “You poor . . . ignorant creatures. I should explain-have explained.
“I did enjoy, yes, killing those people. Insofar as it was my duty to them.” He waited for them to quiet down. “Exactly that, my duty.
“I am an ethical and . . . the closest you say is ‘courteous’ . . . organism. My first act when I meet a new organism is to do what it expects me to do. As well as I can divine its wishes.”
“I can not believe this,” said Chin (L., Bellcomm). “These people, you claim, wanted you to kill them?”
“Not precisely. They expected me to try. Physically. Simply to kill them, with no danger to my own parts, would have been easy enough.”
“I believe him.” It was Gustav Hasenfel, the first Tamer to speak. His amplified voice rang off the metal walls. “We’re always ready for trouble; always expect the worst.”
“Thank you,” it said. “This one understands, too.” The wise old face looked down at Jacque with something like affection. “But he knew from the first time he touched my mind, on Earth. Though he didn’t know how to say it.
“This one is different from most of you. He has brought the animal part of his nature into harmony with the . . . angel part. He does not attempt to separate them. Because of this, he and I can talk. I can sense that no one else in this room possesses this kind of, this kind of integration. You keep your animals and angels separate: you would have the angel prevail. It never can.
“For this reason, we can’t waste time. This one dies, and without him I can no longer speak.”
The table of people was between Carol and the L’vrai. She shuffled sideways to take aim.
“Tamer!” Bahadur shouted. “Don’t”-drowned out by Hasenfel’s booming voice: “Look away I’ll kill you first.”
Carol’s helmet swiveled toward her teammate, crystal clusters of optical sensors below the terrible red eye. “You would,” she said.
“And then myself,” he said. “I’m sorry, Carol.”