Phaethon said, 'The attacking virus was successful, and may have edited your memories.'
Some of the looks of impatience were hardening into expressions of boredom and contempt.
'With all due respect,' said the Eleemosynary supervisor, 'such a redaction would require this virus to bypass sixty-four information security checkpoints in our mind-group, and alter four sets of records: the original, the backup, the conscience ordinators, and the data traffic control monitor. Since our records are kept in associative analogue pathways rather than by a linear system, the virus would have had to examine each record, or even each thought, and do all this while suppressing the awareness-flow telltales of each and every member of our mass- mind's local interest group. Assuming it take two units of information to alter one unit (one to identify and one to falsify), we are estimating a volume of some eight hundred sixty-three billion seconds of intelligence. Only So- photechs are capable of such feats.'
'The attacking virus was constructed and guided by a So-photech,' said Phaethon.
There was a titter of embarrassed laughter around the chamber. A Sophotech attempting a murder?
Phaethon said, 'I know it sounds absurd; don't you think I know how absurd it sounds? But it?I think it is called Nothing?it was not one of our Sophotechs, not part of the Earthmind community! It is a mind from outer space, it must be!'
A dull silence filled the room.
The looks of contempt had changed. Contempt was a look one gave to equals, men whom one scorned but who were nonetheless sane men. Now the expressions become looks of pity.
Tsychandri-Manyu needed no honed instinct to tell him the
mood in the chamber had changed again; it was obvious. 'Gentlemen, we are all familiar with the erratic and frantic behavior of those who face exile. They calculate that it will do no harm for them to attempt anything?anything at all? which might avert their fate. After all, what do they care if they lie or cheat or falsify, when they will not be alive long enough to suffer the consequences of their deceits? Gentlemen! Why are we wasting our time with this? I would like to move, yet again, on the matter of Phaethon's term of exile. I move that it be permanent and absolute, so that not even food, basic services, shelter, or computer time will ever be sold to him.' There was a loud noise of assent, many voices calling for
the final vote.
Nebuchednezzar said, 'The motion to end debate and to call the question has been moved and seconded.'
Helion rose to his feet: 'My son is not a liar!' he spoke in a voice like thunder.
Whispers died.
Nebuchednezzar said, 'Helion, your comment is not in order at this time.'
Helion said, 'Phaethon is telling the truth. We are Silver-Grays. We do not and cannot lie. And of all Silver- Grays, he is the most truthful.'
Nebuchednezzar said: 'I will interpret this comment as a motion to open debate on the issue of whether or not to call the question. Is there a second?'
Gan-Seven Far-Gannis of Jupiter stood up: 'I will second the motion. Rhadamanthus is at hand; Phaethon is, after all, a Silver-Gray, and has deep-memory reading circuits. Would not a Noetic examination instantly reveal the truth of the matter? This is the standard procedure in such cases. We need not be impatient.'
Helion's voice came softly into Phaethon's ear. This was yet another violation of the protocols binding everyone else in the scene. His father's voice said: 'Just say the words, 'I swear,' and we shall have the truth.' But Phaethon stood silent.
Nebuchednezzar said, 'Is something the matter, Phaethon? Is there a reason why you are reluctant to permit a Noetic examination? If you wish us to examine your thoughts, please open a Noetic deep channel.'
Phaethon was suspicious. Gan-Seven Far-Gannis was that part of the Gannis Hundred-mind that traveled between Jupiter and Neptune as a trade factotum. Why would he be eager for Phaethon to be vindicated? The fact that Far-Gannis had close ties with Neptunians was, perhaps, no grounds for suspicion. But what if he had ties with Xenophon?
And the enemy virus in the Mentality, hunting for Phaethon's mind, as far as Phaethon knew, was still out there. Phaethon had opened sensory, kinesthetic, and somatic channels between his brain and the Mentality in order to project a self-image into the fictional chamber Helion had created here. There was no direct access at the moment to his memories, deep structures, or thoughts. Opening a Noetic channel, however, would render him vulnerable to that virus.
Phaethon wondered if the attacker's technology would allow him to kill Phaethon, and replace him with a partial-mind of something that thought it was Phaethon but was loyal to whatever goals or desires the enemy preferred. It was a chilling thought.
Perhaps it had been done already. How many of the Hor-tators around him had been replaced by puppet creatures of the enemy ... ?
Phaethon said, 'The Nothing Sophotech may still have some sort of unmaker virus free in the Noumenal Mentality. If the design is advanced enough to defeat all your wards and guards without being detected, I would fear opening my unshielded brain up to any deep-structure Mentality channels.'
Several of the Hortators laughed out loud. Others smirked. Epiraes Septarch Fulvous of Fulvous House, one of Tsychandri-Manyu's minions, called out, 'If the honorable Phaethon must invent the flimsiest of excuses, could he at least make it entertaining, please? I am having trouble with my suspension of disbelief.'
Harrier Sophotech raised his hand, 'I realize that I am not
a member of the College, but could I make a simple suggestion? Have Phaethon broadcast a copy of his mind- information onto a public channel; broadcast only, not receive; no external impulse can reach him, and this virus he fears, whether it exists or not, will not affect him. Meanwhile, you gentlemen may examine the public copy to your heart's content. What do you say?'
A sensation of warmth and pleasure filled Phaethon, straightening his back. A knot of acidic tension of which he
