The Omega Expedition - Brian Stableford [52]
“And where do you stand?” I asked.
Either she misunderstood the question or she decided that she had an agenda of her own to set out first. “Many outer-system folk see the remoter inhabitants of Earth orbit and the inner system as potential political allies,” she said, “although as many people on Earth think of us as their natural allies. Adam Zimmerman is potentially capable of becoming a significant factor in that ideological conflict, and the Ahasuerus Foundation is his creation. Unfortunately, the Foundation is no longer the closely knit community that it once was, and the Earthbound element of the Foundation doesn’t seem to have been unanimous in approving the decision to revive its founder. Excelsior’s view is that ours is the posthuman community best equipped to fulfill the Foundation’s mission, and we intend to do that if Adam is agreeable.”
“Do you really think he’ll want to be remade as one of you?” I asked, astonished by the seeming absurdity of the possibility.
“He’s a free individual,” Davida said, flatly. “We shall do everything within our power to ensure that he makes an informed decision.”
“But whatever he decides, you’ll want to practice on me — or Christine?”
“Not unless you volunteer,” she assured me. “We were unable to seek your informed consent before releasing you from your long imprisoment, but we had no reason to think that you would raise any objection. Now that you are available for consultation, however, we would not dream of subjecting you to any further treatment without your full cooperation. We shall be pleased to assist you in securing your own emortality when you have considered the opportunities open to you, as recompense for the services you have already rendered.”
I took the inference that she wouldn’t be overly disappointed if Christine and I decided to go to Earth, or set off for the outer system, before seeking any further bodily modification. Adam Zimmerman was the prize on which her own eyes were fixed — but for that very reason, I realized, he was also the prize for which the other contingents would fight hardest.
I wondered how much it mattered, and to whom. I wondered, too, how flattered I ought to be that Mortimer Gray and Michael Lowenthal were at least prepared to pretend an interest in me.
“Lowenthal must be one of the oldest of the emortals,” I remarked, judiciously.
She took the bait. “He is. He has a well-deserved reputation for careful dealing.”
“He’s not just a UN functionary then — he’s a key member of the Inner Circle?”
“The Zaman Transformation was an Ahasuerus project, initially,” Davida observed, again coming at my question from a tangential angle, “but the whole Foundation was Earthbound then, and the terms of our operation were controlled externally. Michael Lowenthal was one of the very first generation of true emortals — but he wasn’t one of ours.”
There was nothing faint about her meaningful emphasis, but I wasn’t sure how much she was trying to imply. I wondered if she had known, even before I mentioned it to Christine Caine, that I had been instrumental — albeit in a very minor capacity — in tying Ahasuerus down in the days when the entire Foundation was a loose cannon rolling around PicoCon’s well-scrubbed