The Octagonal Raven (41 page)
Kewood
Majora and I were in my office, reviewing one of the latest InstaNews stories.
Rumors have surfaced that the regional advocate general of West Noram is considering bringing legal action against the director general of UniComm for violations of the laws designed to insulate the Federal Union justiciary from pressure from the media…. Alwyn was recently involved in an incident in which three men were killed…. While Civil Authorities released Alwyn without charges, questions remain about the way in which the incident was handled….
“That’s the same sort of approach they used with Eldyn.” I shook my head. “About his wife’s death.”
“What can you expect?” she said with a smile, reaching out and touching my hand. “You haven’t done anything wrong. They want to set it up so that if you do…”
“I’m incarcerated and brain-damped. I know.”
The gatekeeper informed me that Mother was calling, and I took it.
“How are you doing, dear?” asked Mother.
From what I could see, she was totally recovered from her bout with Eldyn’s plague. “It’s been rather busy here.”
“How is your bride-to-be?”
“She’s working hard, too. She’s right here.” I widened the scope so that Mother could take us both in.
“So I see. I’m sending you a little trifle. It might help with some of your research.” She smiled blandly, then more brightly as she asked, “Have you two set a date?”
I looked at Majora.
“We’d thought sometime before the end of the year.”
“Well…don’t wait to enjoy being with each other, not that you have, I suspect.” Her smile was polite, but her eyes twinkled. Then she was gone.
Majora and I exchanged glances, then laughed.
I checked the attachment that the gatekeeper had announced in the middle of the conversation.
“What is it?” asked Majora.
I swallowed. “It’s a manual…from Sante, Limited. Operating procedures.”
“That’s St. Cyril’s multilateral.”
I began to page through it. Most of it was pretty standard boilerplate although some of the sections offered hints of a more sinister aspect.
…while not required, it is suggested that candidates for upper management positions consider perceptual integrative training of the type provided by Uy Associates….
Uy Associates was a subsidiary of TanSen, the TanUy multilateral.
“Hints again,” Majora observed over my shoulder.
“Not exactly hard proof, but we can work it in somewhere.” I glanced at her. “Could you look through to see what else there might be?”
“I can do that.”
The gatekeeper clinged quietly, and I checked the InstaNews holo display that appeared, showing an image of a building I did not recognize.
…another demonstration in Ankorplex…protesting the planned implementation of perceptual testing as a voluntary additional admission criteria for the elite Sinouk University…
Proctor General Diem…“This is not a requirement, in any sense of the word, but merely a means by which students can offer the admissions board another proof of their capabilities…”
The image switched to a group of adults brandishing signs and long poles.
Because parents opposing the voluntary criteria have threatened violence against the administration, Proctor General Diem has reluctantly requested Federal Union support to keep the university open. “We will not give in to violence…or the threat of violence….”
I shook my head. The locales varied, but the approach was the same—set up the ground rules so that the opposition’s only real options appeared unreasonable, illegal, or futile. For years, if not generations, it had worked well. But there were signs that the tactic was getting old, and creating more and more frustration—leading to a social explosion?
Could I put all the pieces together in time?
I wondered.
Kewood
As I looked at the solid cherry wood desk, I smiled, if faintly. I’d always hated the mist desk Gerrat used, appropriate as it might have been for him. I’d never cared much for smoke and mirrors.
The gatekeeper announced a Lester Liery from MagTron. Even I as accepted, I was on the link, asking Majora to check out who he was.
“Yes?” I said politely to the holo image in front of the bookcase.
“Lester Liery from MagTron, Director Alwyn.” Liery was another perfectly featured, straight-nosed, dark-haired pre-select—more like me than my brother had been. Somehow that bothered me.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“The word has gotten out that you’re rather interested in the use of…mobile artificial organics, Director Alwyn.”
“That’s not quite correct.” I forced a smile, waiting for Majora to fill me in.
“Daryn,” she reported, “from what I can find out quickly, Liery works for someone at MagTron. MagTron is a subsidiary of DGen, and that’s the Deng holding multi.”
“Thanks,” I linked back, returning my full attention to young Liery.
“I must have been mistaken….” Liery didn’t look as though he were ever mistaken about anything.
“Don’t MagTron and DGen both use monoclones for specialized testing and other purposes?”
“I wouldn’t know about DGen, ser.” The “ser” was clearly condescending.
“But you’re the one in charge of their use at MagTron?” I pressed.
“I’m a special assistant. I was just following up—”
“That’s a rather vague term, special assistant. Whose special assistant are you, Director Deng’s?”
“I report directly to Director General Rustau.”
“Good. That’s very good. I’d like to meet with him the day after tomorrow. That does fall under the duties of special assistant, doesn’t it?”
“Director Rustau is rather occupied these days.”
“I am certain he is, Liery. I imagine he has a great deal of explaining to do. He may have more if he puts off seeing me.” I smiled politely. “That’s his choice, of course, but…he should be the one to make it. If anything untoward is going on, and I’m certain it’s not, but if it were, and it came out that my request were not given to him…well, he would have to find someone to blame.” I smiled again.
“I’ll be sure to convey your request, Director Alwyn.”
“Thank you. I’ll look forward to hearing from him.” I didn’t let him respond before breaking the connection.
Then I walked down the ramp to the office where I’d installed Majora. I could have linked, but I wanted to see her face—in person.
She looked up from a small squarish table as I closed the door behind me. “That call from Lester Liery…he works for Tyler Rustau, and he’s the head of MagTron. That’s the biggest operating subsidiary of Deng’s outfit.”
I nodded. “I twisted his arm a little, suggested that he set up an appointment with Rustau for me.”
“You aren’t going out to meet him? After all this…”
“It’s not that far. MagTron’s in Porlan. Deng’s in the southern Sinoplex, but Deng will avoid meeting me. I’m sure that’s why the follow-up came from MagTron. Someone’s worried, or at least concerned about my clone inquiries. If they weren’t, they’d ignore me. Liery was set up to feel me out for a deal—same old good old pre-select stuff I heard about but never believed happened. The problem Liery has is that I don’t have any special assistants, except you, and they don’t know about you yet…or they do.” I grinned.
“So what will happen? Nothing?”
“Absolutely. Not a thing. Liery will convey my request, and it will be ignored. Then if I press for an appointment, they’ll stonewall everything, and then see me and plead total ignorance, and say that, of course, they’re happy to meet with the head of UniComm, but they have no idea of the reason for my request.”
“What can we do?”
“Can you find out what divisions and sections of MagTron have clone permits? Those have to be public records. And, if he’s innocent, I bet Emyl Astol will be more than happy to let us know how many he shipped to each section. If we have trouble there, we know who else is involved. And I’ll bet that if we push hard enough, there are going to be some missing clones that can’t be explained.” I frowned. “Unless they’re using Emyl for cover, and are illegally cloning their own, but that would take…”
Majora nodded. “I see what you mean. We can check suppliers, and anyone who is shipping stuff will probably tell us.”
“If they won’t, I might be able to interest the advocate general of Noram.”
“Seglend would love something like that.”
“Can you check it out?”
Majora nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“Formulate a news series on startling information…perhaps beginning with a piece on how widespread monoclones are, and all the big multis who are using them, and for what. I’ll have to come up with a better name.” I looked into her eyes, and wished I could just look.
Instead, I took a deep breath. “How are we coming? Can we start all those series as planned?”
“We’re still scheduled for the third oneday of July—that’s gives us ten days.” She called up another display and studied it. “Devit Tal has five blocs in, and they’re in production for the music and effects you stipulated. He says he can have five more by the end of the week. Recardo just linked in a while ago—he’s got six blocs, he says, on transport, and he’s in Westeuro to get the right scenes for geographic spread. He claims he’ll have three more by the end of the week. Cyhal says he has all the pieces for ten spreads, but he’s just started working with production to board them….”
“I need the stuff from Mahmad…and Mustafa’s would help.”
“I’ll follow up on those.”
With my hand on the door as I opened it, I smiled at Majora, wishing we had more time, just the two of us, but if we didn’t get all the special projects on line—and quickly, there might not be any time at all. My guts were tight all the time, far more than when I’d been a pilot.
Back in my office, I walked into the adjoining alcove, where I’d installed my own equipment and called up one of those I’d been working on.
The initial title that filled the image screen was just two words—Hard Choices. The word “Hard” was deep black. “Choices” flashed between white and silver.
My voice rolled over the montage that began with a quick glimpse of Blue Oak Academy, then a shot of The College, the Centurium at Southern University, and various other locales instantly recognizable, if not by name, as educational institutions.
This week Hard Choices looks at perceptual intelligence testing—ability assessment or social structuring? That’s the question….
Perceptual integrative testing—there have been demonstrations about it, and claims for it and against it. Is a successful PIAT test an auto-entry to the best schools? To a career with the strongest multis? Or is it a tool for discriminating against norms? Or against pre-selects who don’t belong to the right clique?
The next montage was one of building facades that belonged to multis, although no logos or names were displayed.
Does a good PIAT score vault a young man or woman over others of equal or greater intelligence and ability? Or does it show a deeper type of intellectual ability? Do the abilities supposedly measured by a PIAT translate into greater capabilities? Or are they, as some charge, merely a way to screen out those without absolute loyalty to the present power structure? Why do ninety percent of all norms tested fall in the lower sixty percent, when ninety percent of all pre-selects are in the top fifteen percent? The pre-selects get the schools and the top jobs. The norms don’t, and much of this choice is based on the PIAT. But how accurate really is this test? Is there a reason based in ability?
Then came a quick flash over testing consoles, old-fashioned written-style tests, and a focus on a figure in a shimmering white singlesuit whose face was obscured by a blaze of light.
Can the psycho-physiologists explain this? All this week, we’ll be looking at perceptual testing…. What is it, and does it really measure intelligence and intellectual abilities? This series will look into the rumors—and the dark side of the PIAT and other perceptual tests….
I stopped the image. There needed to be another blockbuster, slam-to-the-gut fact in the intro…maybe two, if I could find them. I began to search through all the raw facts.
I also hoped it wouldn’t be too long before the quick and dirty survey data arrived.