“I’m not sure how helpful that’ll be. Every era has a different outlook. What’s thoroughly normal behaviour for a Seventeenth Century potter is going to be utterly different from you. I always think Ashly’s ridiculously old fashioned on some things; he’s horrified by the way kids today can access stim programs.”
“So am I.”
“But you can’t restrict access, not in a universal data culture like ours. You have to educate society about what’s acceptable and what isn’t. A little adolescent experimentation isn’t harmful, in moderation. We have to concentrate on pushing the moderation aspect, help people come to terms with what’s out there. The alternative is censorship, which the communication nets will defeat every time.”
“That’s defeatism. I’m not saying people shouldn’t be educated about the problems of stim programs; but if you made the effort, Adamist culture could abolish them.”
“Knowledge can’t be destroyed, it has to be absorbed and accommodated.” He glanced dolefully out at Jupiter. “As I tried to argue with the First Admiral. He wasn’t terribly impressed, either.”
“I’m not surprised. The fact we’re going to use antimatter on this flight is restricted information. Rightly so.”
“That’s different—” Joshua began, then grunted. “Looks like I’m not going to make it past the beyond. Don’t think like an Edenist.”
“No, that’s not right. This is just a difference in beliefs. We both agree stim addiction is a dreadful blight, we just differ on how to treat it. We still think the same way. I don’t understand this! Damnit!”
“Let’s hope the Sleeping God can show us the difference.” He gave her a tentative look. “Can I ask a personal question?”
She rubbed the tip of her index finger round the rim of the flute, then sucked on it. “Joshua Calvert, I have a devoted lover, thank you.”
“Er, actually, I was wondering if you had any children.”
“Oh,” she said, and promptly blushed. “No, I don’t. Not yet anyway. My sister Pomona has three; it makes me wonder what I’ve been doing with my time.”
“When you do have children, how do you raise them? Voidhawk captains, I mean. You don’t have them on board, do you?”
“No, we don’t. Shipboard life is for adults, even aboard a voidhawk.”
“So how do they grow up?”
“What do you mean?” It was a strange question, especially from him. But she could see it was important.
“They haven’t got you there as a mother.”
“Oh, I see. It doesn’t matter, for them anyway. Voidhawk captains tend to have fairly large extended families. I must take you to see my mother some time, then you’ll see first-hand. Any children I have while I’m still flying with
“Are they happy, those other children? The ones you have to leave behind.”
“Yes. They’re happy. I know you think we’re terribly formal and mannered, but we’re not mechanoids, Joshua, we love our children.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “You okay?”
“Oh yeah. I’m okay.” He concentrated on his flute. “Syrinx. You can count on me during the flight.”
“I know that, Joshua. I reviewed the Murora memory a few times, and I’ve spoken to Samuel, too.”
He gestured out at the starfield. “The real answer lies out there, somewhere.”
“Consensus has known that all along. And as the Kiint wouldn’t tell me . . .”
“And I’m not smart enough to help the research professors . . .”
They smiled. “Here’s to the flight,” Syrinx said.
“Soaring where angels fear to fly.”
They downed the remainder of their Norfolk Tears. Syrinx blew heavily, and blinked the moisture away from her eyes. Then she frowned at the figure standing at the bar. “Jesus, Joshua, I didn’t know there was two of you.”
The enjoyable surprise of hearing an Edenist swear in such a fashion was quelled with pique when he saw who she was talking about. He stuck his hand up and waved Liol over.
“Delighted to meet you,” Liol said when Joshua introduced them. He polished up the Calvert grin for her benefit, and kissed her hand.
Syrinx laughed, and stood up. “Sorry Liol, I’m afraid I had my inoculation some time ago.” Joshua was chuckling.
“I’ll leave the pair of you to it,” she said, and gave Joshua a light kiss. “Don’t be late.”
“Got her eddress?” Liol asked from the side of his mouth as he watched her walk away.
“Liol, that’s a voidhawk ship-tunic. Syrinx doesn’t have an eddress. So how are you?”
“Absolutely fine.” Liol reversed a chair, and straddled it, arms resting on the back. “This is party city for me all right. I think I’ll move Quantum Serendipity here after the crisis.”
“Right. Haven’t seen much of you since we docked.”
“Well hey, no surprise there. That Dominique, hell of a girl.” He lowered his voice to a throaty gloating growl. “Game on, five, six times a night. Every position I know, then some that’s got to be just for xenocs.”
“Wow.”
“Last night, you know what? Threesome. Neomone joined in.”
“No shit? You record a sensevise?”
Liol put both hands down on the table, and stared at his brother. “Josh.”
“Yep.”
“For Christ’s sake take me with you.”
Kerry was the first planet, the test. Catholic Irish-ethnic to the bedrock, its inhabitants gave the priests of the Unified Church a very hard time. Stubbornly suspicious of technology, it took them a half a century longer than the development company projected to reach full technoindustrial independence. When they did achieve it, their economic index never matched the acceleration curve of the more driven Western-Christian work-ethic planets. They were comfortably off, favoured large families, traded modestly with nearby star systems, contributed grudgingly to the Confederation Assembly and Navy, and went to Church regularly. There were no aspirations to become a galactic player like Kulu, Oshanko, and Edenism. Quiet people getting on with their lives. Until the possession crisis arrived.
The planet was seven light-years from New California, and worried. Their Strategic Defence network was the absolute minimum for a developed world; and combat wasp stocks were never kept very high; maintenance budgets were also subject to political trimming. Since the crisis began, and especially post-Arnstat, Kerry had been desperately trying to upgrade. Unfortunately their industrial stations weren’t geared towards churning out military hardware. Nor were they closely allied to Kulu or Earth who did produce an abundance of such items. The Edenists of the Kerry system, orbiting Rathdrum, lent what support they could; but they had their own defences to enhance first.
Still, went the hope and reasoning, that’s the benefit of being galactic small fry, Capone isn’t going to bother with us. When it came to the effort of mounting a full scale invasion along the lines of Arnstat they were absolutely right. Which is why Al’s sudden change of policy caught them woefully unprepared.
Twelve hellhawks emerged five and a half thousand kilometres above Kerry’s atmosphere, and fired a salvo of ten (fusion powered) combat wasps each. The bitek craft immediately started accelerating at six gees, flying away from each other in an expanding globe formation. Their combat wasps raced on ahead of them, ejecting multiple submunitions. Space was infected by electronic warfare impulses and thermal decoys, a rapidly growing blind spot in Kerry’s sensor coverage. Submunitions began to target sensor satellites, inter-orbit ships, spaceplanes, and low orbit SD platforms. A volley of fusion bombs detonated, creating a further maelstrom of electromagnetic chaos.
