The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [77]
“I am teaching the children,” UR said.
“Looks like you’re playing a game.”
“I am teaching the children to play the game. It is an ancient Hindu game called Leela, or Snakes and Arrows, thousands of years old. The grid has seventy-two squares, each named for a state of being. When the player rolls, the die is guided by his or her karma. If the die takes you to a square with an arrow, you ascend to a higher plane. If you fall on a square with a serpent, you slide down.”
One boy shouted as he landed on a particularly good square.
“So . . . it has nothing to do with the Klikiss? Or the EDF?”
“Snakes and Arrows deals with all aspects of life in a metaphorical sense,” UR said. “Would you like to play, Orli Covitz?”
“Not right now.” The idea of the battered compy speaking of karma, states of being, and planes of existence was too unsettling for her. “I’m helping Kotto Okiah and Mr. Steinman. We’re working on ways to defend the Confederation against . . . well, against everything.”
In his new laboratory, Kotto activated one documentation screen after another. Mr. Steinman lifted a flat metal case of tools and slid it onto a chest-high shelf that was bracketed to the wall. “Sure, but who’s the real enemy? The EDF attacked Golgen and Osquivel. The faeros attacked Theroc. The Klikiss attacked Llaro. The Klikiss robots are still out there. Which one do we concentrate on?”
Kotto stared at a data projection, then blanked it. “Do I have to pick one in particular?”
Following him, Steinman activated the same screen and jotted down a file name. KR and GU circulated, cleaning, organizing, arranging the new lab; Orli had noticed that the clutter created by the two men kept the compies quite busy. DD was also there, eager to make himself useful.
Orli spoke up. “I pick the Klikiss. After Llaro — and Relleker — we need to stop the subhives from expanding.”
Kotto scratched his curly hair. “It would be easier to do that if I had a specimen to study. I don’t know enough about them.”
Orli pulled up a chair and folded her legs beneath her in a comfortable position. “Well, Mr. Steinman and I have some firsthand experience.”
“As do I,” DD said. “We have considerable data to share.”
Kotto brightened. “Then maybe I won’t be working in the dark, after all. Give me a starting point.”
Orli thought for a minute. “The Klikiss have songs and music. They communicate with intricate melodies as well as pheromones. When I played my synthesizer strips and bombarded the bugs with my songs, it seemed to shut down the thoughts of the hive mind.” She didn’t think the specific tune mattered, only that the music had to be different from anything they had heard before.
Kotto was already deep in thought. “I could develop a kind of random melody generator. Maybe if we played it at sufficient volume in the right place, we could paralyze the creatures.”
“There, we have a new project to sink our teeth into.” Steinman rubbed his hands together. “And the Klikiss annoy me even more than General Lanyan does.”
* * *
54
Deputy Chairman Eldred Cain
An unannounced ship arrived at Earth, causing a flurry of alarms and consternation. A Roamer ship.
Deputy Cain studied the traces projected on the Chairman’s deskscreen. “No ID beacon, no explanation, just a small flyer with a passenger capacity of five. It’s not a cargo ship or a military vessel.”
“The ship can’t possibly be a threat, but I want to know what the hell he thinks he’s doing here.”
Finally a transmission came from the Roamer craft. In an uninflected voice, the pilot said, “We are on a peaceful mission that concerns a matter of mutual survival.”
The Chairman looked at Cain as if he should instantly have an answer. “They could be Roamer deserters,” Cain suggested. “If so, they could provide valuable information about the Confederation. Valuable enough for us to talk to them at least.”
“Nevertheless, we should prepare to shoot it down, just in case.” The Chairman took charge of the communication console himself. “Roamer ship, I am sending you coordinates for landing. We will have Remoras