the Emergent moral blindness, but they also had touching, human problems. And sometimes, when no one else might notice, Ezr saw something in Xin’s eyes. Jau was bright, academically inclined. Except for his good luck in the Emergent lottery, his university days would have ended in Focus. Most Emergents could double-think their way around such things; sometimes Jau could not.
“—so afraid this will be the last show,” Rita Liao looked genuinely distraught.
“Don’t gloom on it, Rita. We don’t even know if this is a serious problem.”
“That’s for sure.” Gonle Fong drifted in headfirst, from above. She distributed flasks of Diamonds and Ice all around. “I think the zipheads—” She glanced apologetically at Ezr. “—I think the translators have finally lost it. The ads for this show just don’t make any sense.”
“No, no. They’re really quite clear.” It was one of the Emergents, with a fairly good explanation of what the “out-of-phase perversion” was all about. The problem wasn’t with the translators; the problem was with the human ability to accept the bizarre.
“The Children’s Hour of Science” had been one of the first voice broadcasts that Trixia and the others had translated. Just mapping audio to the previously translated written forms had been a triumph. The early shows— fifteen objective years ago—had been printed translations. They’d been discussed in Benny’s parlor, but with the same abstract interest as the latest ziphead theories about the OnOff star. As the years passed, the show had become popular for itself.Fine. But sometime in the last 50Msec, Qiwi Lin had worked a deal with Trud Silipan. Every nine or ten days, Trixia and the other translators were put on exhibit, a live show. So far this Watch, Ezr hadn’t spoken more than ten words to Qiwi.She promised to look afterTrixia. What do you say to someone who breaks such a promise? Even now, he didn’t believe Qiwi was a traitor. But she was in bed with Tomas Nau. Maybe she used that “position” to protect Qeng Ho interests. Maybe. In the end, it all seemed to benefit Nau.
Ezr had seen four “performances” now. More than any normal human translator, far more than any machine system, each ziphead put emotion and body language into the interpretation.
“Rappaport Digby” was the zipheads’ name for the show’s host. (Wheredo they get those crazy names? People still asked that. Ezr knew the names came mostly from Trixia. That was one of the few things he and Trixia could really talk about, his knowledge of the First Classicism. Sometimes she asked him for new words. In fact,Ezr had suggested the “Digby” name, years ago. The word fit something she saw in the background of this particular Spider.) Ezr knew the translator who played Rappaport Digby. Outside of the show, Zinmin Broute was a typical ziphead, irritable, fixated, uncommunicative. But now, when he appeared as the Spider Rappaport Digby, he was kindly and garrulous, a patient explainer to children…. It was like seeing a zombie briefly animated by someone else’s soul.
Each new Watch saw the Spider children a little differently. After all, most Watches were only a twenty- five-percent duty cycle; the Spider children lived four years for every one that most spacers lived. Rita and some of the others took to visualizing human children to go with the voices. The pictures were scattered across the parlor’s wallpaper. Pictures of imaginary human children, with the names Trixia had chosen. “Jirlib” was short, with tousled dark hair and a mischievous smile. “Brent” was larger, not as cocky-looking as his brother. Benny had told him how Ritser Brughel once replaced the smiling faces with pictures of real Spiders: low-slung, skeletal, armored—images from the statuary Ezr had seen in his landing on Arachna, supplemented with low-res pics from the snoopersats.
Brughel’s vandalism hadn’t mattered; he didn’t understand what was behind the popularity of “The Children’s Hour.” Tomas Nau obviouslydid understand, and was perfectly content that the customers at Benny’s booze parlor could sublimate the greatest personnel problem his little kingdom faced. Even more than the Qeng Ho expedition, the Emergents had expected to live in luxury. They had expected that there would be ever-expanding resources, that marriages planned at home could result in children and families here in the OnOff system….
Now all that was postponed.Our own out-of-phase taboo. Couples like Xin and Liao had only their dreams for the future—and the children’s words and children’s thoughts that came from the translation of “The Children’s Hour.”
Even before the live shows, the humans noticed that all the children were the same age. Year by Arachnan year they aged, but when new children came on the show, they were the same age as those replaced. The earliest translations had been lessons about magnetism and static electricity, all free of mathematics. Later the lessons introduced analysis and quantitative methods.
About two years ago, there had been a subtle change, remarked on in the ziphead’s written reports—and instantly, instinctively noticed by Jau Xin and Rita Liao: “Jirlib” and “Brent” had appeared on the show. They were introduced as any other children, but Trixia’s translations made them seemyounger than the others. Showmaster Digby never remarked on the difference, and the math and science in the show continued to become more sophisticated.
“Victory Junior” and “Gokna” were the latest additions to the cast, new on this Watch. Ezr had seen Trixia play them. Her voice had hopped with childish impatience; sometimes she had bubbled with laughter. Rita’s pictures showed these two Spiders as laughing seven-year-olds. It was all too pat. Why should the average age of children on the show be declining? Benny claimed the explanation was obvious. “The Children’s Hour” must be under new management. The ubiquitous Sherkaner Underhill was credited with writing the lessons now. And Underhill was apparently the father of all the new children.
By the time Ezr had returned from coldsleep, the show was packing the parlor to capacity. Ezr saw four performances, each a private horror for him. And then, surcease. “The Children’s Hour” had not been broadcast for twenty days now. Instead, there had been a stern announcement: “After numerous listener allegations, the owners of this broadcasting station have determined that the family of Sherkaner Underhill practices the out-of-phase perversion. Pending resolution of this situation, broadcasts of ‘The Children’s Hour of Science’ are suspended.” Broute had read the announcement with a voice quite unlike that of Rappaport Digby. The new voice was cold and distant, and full of indignation.
For once, the alienness of Arachna penetrated all the glib wishful thinking. So Spider tradition only allowed new children at the beginning of a New Sun. Generations were strictly separated, each marching through life as a same-aged group. The humans had only guesses for why this should be the case, but apparently “The Children’s Hour” had been a cover for a major violation of the taboo. The show missed one scheduled broadcast, two. In Benny’s booze parlor, things were sad and empty; Rita began to talk of taking down the silly pictures. And Ezr began to hope that maybe this was the end of the circus.
But that was too much to hope. Four days ago, the gloom had abruptly lifted, even if the mystery remained. Broadcasts from radio stations all across the “Goknan Accord” announced that a spokesman for the Church of the Dark would meet in debate with Sherkaner Underhill about the “propriety” of his radio show. Trud Silipan had promised that the zipheads would be ready, able to translate this new show format.
Now Benny’s show-time clock was counting down the seconds to this special edition of “The Children’s Hour.”
In his usual place on the other side of the parlor, Trud Silipan seemed to ignore the suspense. He and Pham Trinli were talking in low tones. The two were constant drinking buddies, planning great deals that never seemed to go anywhere.Funny, I used to think Trinli was a loud buffoon. Pham’s “magic localizer” claims had not been a bluff; Ezr had noticed the dustmotes. Nau and Brughel had begun using the gadgets. Somehow, Pham Trinli had known a secret about the localizers that had been missing from the innermost sections of the fleet library. Ezr Vinh might be the only one to realize it, but Pham Trinli was not totally a buffoon. More and more, Ezr guessed that the old man was in no part a fool. There were secrets hidden all through the fleet library; there had to be in anything that old and that large. But for a secret that important to be known by this man… Pham Trinli must go back along way.
“Hey, Trud!” shouted Rita, pointing at the clock. “Where are your zipheads?” The parlor’s wallpaper still looked out on the forests of some Balacrean nature preserve.
Trud Silipan rose from his table and floated down before the crowd. “It’s okay, folks. I just got word. Princeton Radio has started the ‘Children’s Hour’ intro. Director Reynolt will bring out the zipheads in a moment. They’re still synching with the word stream.”
Liao’s irritation melted away. “Great! Good going, Trud.”
Silipan gave a bow, accepting kudos for what was a zero contribution on his part. “So, in a few moments we should know what strange things this Underhill creature has been doing with his children….” He cocked his head, listening to his private data feed. “And here they are!”
The dripping, blue-green forest landscape disappeared. The bar side of the room suddenly seemed to extend
