It was the Chinese who discovered a castrated pre-cog had greater and more focused abilities. Something to do with the fact that testosterone seemed to suppress the effect. Not the entire works, only the testicles. They could have sex but no children.
“Oh, please,” Kara said, “not a neuter society of secrets. It’s just too…” She shrugged. “Over-dramatic?” She poured them both more brandy, a thirty-year-old Hine, pleased that Marc had such good taste in booze.
< It was given him, Ishmael said.
> Another illusion shattered. And don’t keep me too sober, okay? She smiled at Greenaway to take the sting from her last words to him.
Greenaway shook his head. “Never that organised. The Vatican did the same with castrati singers.” He paused, listening to his AI, eyes distant. Then sighed, “Shit. Venice and Ankara are at war. Five colony worlds have declared independence, as has the Belt. The Paris AI just froze the Metro – thousands of people are trapped in tunnels. City states have begun blaming the Wild. It’s getting worse.”
“Only the start of it. Go on.”
He shrugged. “Pre-cogs are naturally long lived, we don’t know why. The castration added even more years.”
She saw his eyes narrow and remembered that Tse had been his friend. Possibly the only person Greenaway trusted. “Did they have any choice?”
Greenaway shook his head. “Only happened to a few, but no. Had to be done just after puberty.”
“So much for a breeding programme.” Too bad if Tse and Greenaway had been friends. She was entitled to the occasional crack. “Wait. There couldn’t be one. All the most powerful pre-cogs were castrated.”
“Just after puberty. Time for the poor sod to father a child. Anyway, Tse was the last one. No need after him, they knew the threat and how to defeat it.”
“Who’s they?”
“The good pre-cogs and some families who’ve been trading with aliens for centuries.” He shot brandy into Kara’s glass, half smiling at her shocked expression. “Aliens have been visiting and trading for a long, long time. Remember that warehouse you guys found? Mostly Cancri, particularly fascinated by humans. They had enough sense to restrict their dealings to a select few. Or the select few made damn sure they did. Safer for all. Big surprise when the Gliese pulled that paint-the-moon number, but luckily there were enough people who knew the truth to prevent total collapse.”
“So these families...”
“Got very rich over the years. But never had the resources to get as much from alien tech as we do now.”
“Are pre-cogs all male?”
“No. Women may also do empathy, like you. And emotional control over others. Getting pregnant doesn’t affect the talent.”
Kara was quiet for a moment as it sank in. “You mean my ancestors...”
“Came from the Altai,” he finished. “You’re a direct descendant.”
Something to be explored later. Kara passed him the brandy bottle. “So where do the Wild and city states fit in?”
“You haven’t figured it out?”
“Something about ‘someone has to carry out the trash’?”
He half smiled. “Pretty much. You know, until you and your team discovered that warehouse, we had no idea how long the alien pre-cogs had known about Earth. Now it seems to be fifty thousand Earth years. There’s a prime alien pre-cog race, a few super-intelligent allies like the Originators and their not-so-smart allies, like the Cancri. And their go-fors like the Gliese. Question: why not wipe us out? Answer: we have no idea. They’re aliens, remember? But we can’t rule it out. Which is why we have to destroy the prime pre-cogs. If they go we’ve a fighting chance.”
He’d avoided her question. She tried again. “And the Wild?”
“The city states went one way: traditional government on local, tribal lines; large urban area; obviously tech driven, facilitated by AIs. The Wild went for a civilisation based on common values and shared effort.” He shrugged. “The Wild has its own colonies out amongst the stars. Worst comes to worst, humanity could keep going through them.” He yawned, a little too elaborately. “Early start in the morning.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Ask your AI?”
“Not the same. I need to hear it from you.”
He sighed. “It’s about humanity. Look, we could lose Earth to the aliens. It’s a possibility. But that doesn’t mean humanity dies. Not any more.”
Kara got it. “The space colonies.”
“Thirty whole-planet ones. Owned by humans. Around two hundred outposts on more or less friendlies. They co-exist with whatever was there first. Or shows up later. That’s the official list. Unofficial, maybe around five, six hundred. Some of them maybe made it to another galaxy.”
Kara held up a hand to pause him while she thought. “So the city states are breeding grounds for the colonies?”
“Way more people than in the Wild.”
She nodded. “I always thought colonies were as much commercial, business.”
“It’s how empires start out,” he said. “Only later does it become a sacred cause.”
She looked hard at him. “So what about the bad human pre-cogs?”
“They want the aliens to win,” he said shortly. “Been around a long time, like the good ones. Not so rich and powerful but ruthless.” He yawned again. “I’m for bed.”
“You can sleep in the house. Breakfast here at 0600.”
She saw him settled and went for a walk by the river.
> What do you think? she asked Ishmael.
< He didn’t lie.
> Did he tell me everything?
< You really want to know?
> Let’s give him a little longer. She wasn’t sure why but it felt important. > Do we trust him?
< Do we have a choice? His AI’s the same: obsessed with the mission.
> That damn programme.
< Maybe more. Maybe he’s trying to justify his wife’s death. Pushing the programme, even using his daughter, if necessary. Otherwise his wife died pointlessly. The star-drive
