Watchstar (17 page)

She took the circlet from Etey. “You must use this,” the woman said. “It is a trainer for children, they must learn to use this before they are ready for an implant. I do not think you will find it too difficult. I shall be with you, so I can guide you if necessary. You will have to concentrate.”

Daiya nodded.

“Put it around your head.”

She lifted the circlet and put it on; it slid down and rested against her forehead and temples. Suddenly the room was gone. A fog enveloped her. She felt a presence near her—Etey. But there was another presence, another mind. She trembled as she sensed its power.

It touched her. She was outside the comet, adrift in black space. The comet was a seed sprouting stems. She gazed through the impossibly long limbs of the trees that grew from it. She saw through the roots into the comet-world; there was a city in each root, hidden or disguised by the jungle that grew around it. She felt as though she could grasp all the visions at once. She was in space again. A membrane shimmered around the comet, protecting it, almost invisible. Homesmind was touching her.

The comet was Homesmind; Homesmind was the comet. Daiya thought: nothing can be this powerful, nothing can know this much. She saw another image; other comets circled the sun, their minds communing. They linked themselves together with mental strands. Their people had grown apart, but the comet minds still communicated and held their knowledge for whomever was willing to seek it.

She was being propelled through space. The sun grew smaller, becoming a pinprick against the night. She understood that she was far from Earth now, in a region of large rocks, small barren worldlets, and the masses of ice that became comets; she was in the place Reiho had called the Halo. She was lifted above it. Looking down, she saw tiny globes, far from one another, orbiting the sun. The Halo was a mass of fragments marking the boundary between this system and the space outside it. She saw one comet, then another, leave the Halo and begin to move slowly in the direction of the sun.

How many comets? she felt herself asking. How many worlds? Comets were fanning out from her; their tails veiled her eyes. She saw each depart on its own path, some choosing to stay within this system, others leaving for other stars. Thousands of them. Millions. She could not hold the numbers. She felt heavy with the knowledge, remembering Earth. She had thought it the home of all human life. Even one comet contained more people than did Earth.

She was caught in the fog again. Homesmind reached inside her. She unraveled like a skein of thread: she was stretching out her chubby arms to Anra as she toddled, she was sitting in the public space shifting her weight from one buttock to another as she tried to concentrate on mastering her thoughts, she was chewing on a piece of fruit while Mausi—she was swimming in the river with Brun—she was waving goodbye to Rin—Harel was handing her a flower. Her memories became a blur, whipping past her; there was only a glimpse of the desert, then a peek at the looming mountains and the machines that they hid.

She looked inside her mind. The memories were still there; she was still whole. Homesmind had, she supposed, looked at them and then made them part of Itself. She sensed an answering wave of thought. She was awed as she realized how much there was in Homesmind; no one person could grasp it all. She was sure she had caught only the bare surface.

She sensed that Homesmind was speaking to Etey, though she could not read the thoughts. Then a feeling rippled from It to her. She could not quite interpret the emotion; it was part curiosity, part understanding, part distant compassion. The feeling soothed her. She was not afraid of Homesmind.

Then she saw Earth again, and the mountains under which machines were hidden. She saw mountains she had never seen before. She saw range after range, some built by nature, pushing to an impossible height above clouds, others barely higher than foothills and covered with trees. She saw mountains once made by human beings, some of them barren, others covered with weeds.

There were villages near all the ranges. Some were like her own home, huts near rivers and plains. Some nestled in fertile valleys. Others were in jungles or in colder climes; she saw huts made of reeds and dwellings made of timber or snow. They were superficial differences; the life of the villages went on, much like the life in her own. Young people faced ordeals, older ones became Merging Selves, sometimes able to touch another village with threads of thought. The image rippled. She saw Homesmind send out a stream of thought like a river. The stream flowed through space, touching the machines of Earth, seeking knowledge.

She floated aimlessly, then felt a hand on her brow. She blinked and saw the face of Etey. For a moment, she wanted to be with Homesmind again. Etey removed the circlet. Daiya, inside herself again, stretched her legs. Her back ached; her shoulders were stiff. She wiped her sweaty face with a sleeve.

Daiya opened her mouth, then closed it again, feeling unable to speak. “What you know and remember is part of Homesmind now,” Etey said. “It will now learn from your cybernetic intelligences on Earth, and they will learn from It. That knowledge will be available to us, and to your people also, should they decide to seek it.” Etey's face softened as she looked at Daiya. “I now remember your life also,” she went on. “You have endured much.”

“Intelligences,” Daiya murmured. “I see that there are such things in machines, but I do not see how it is possible. It is like thinking a wagon can reason.”

Etey smiled. “When a machine reaches a certain complexity, a certain point where it can become conscious of itself, how can it not happen? Homesmind was once our servant only, now It is many more things to us. The fact that It has not chosen to become our master makes me believe that in many ways It is our superior.” She paused. “In time, you would come to understand much more of what Homesmind can tell you, with more precision.”

“What will Homesmind do now?” Daiya asked, thinking of the machines on Earth.

“Homesmind will learn, and reason, and draw certain conclusions. It will share them with those who are interested. It will not force anyone to accept them.” Etey reached over and touched Daiya's hand. “You may have brought us something very important.”

She got up and helped Daiya to her feet. The wall dividing the room became transparent again and slid away. Etey turned to the wall nearest them. The deer disappeared as the wall retracted. The children were giggling again. Daiya followed Etey out of the room, with Reiho close behind her. The wall closed behind them.

Daiya stood still, realizing that she could place herself, orient herself in relation to the rest of the comet. Homesmind had placed that knowledge in her mind; she would be able to find her way around this world. Two hundred paces ahead was the park where she had spoken with Reiho. The place where his craft had landed was above the cliff in which he and Etey made their home.

They were near a brook which ran through a small clearing. Flat rocks lay on the green grass in an elaborate pattern. Daiya looked at the pattern, understanding it. The rocks symbolized the molecular construction of the grass while hinting at an equation expressing the chemical composition of the water flowing in the brook. The pattern was also a poem, though she could not read it. She shivered, wondering what else Homesmind had communicated to her.

She walked over to the brook, knowing she could follow it to a pool surrounded by slender trees with white bark. She glanced at a nearby surface, recognizing that the patterns etched on it were calligraphy, marks making written words, though she could not read them. The brook itself spelled an idea, though she did not know what it was.

Etey and Reiho followed her. Etey stood next to her, silent for a few moments, then spoke. “You see how much Homesmind can teach you. You do not have to be a stranger here.”

Daiya stared at the brook. The water flowed, bubbling over rocks, flowing around stepping-stones. She thought of living with calming substances inside her, without her powers, in a world of people wedded to machines and living in gardens. It was not what she had thought it was. She did not know if it was what she wanted. Even here, Earth seemed to pull at her, calling her home.

“There is an emptiness in me,” she said to Etey and Reiho, wondering if they could understand what she meant. “I cannot just leave everything I knew. I know I'm not like most of my people, that in many ways I didn't fit in there either, that they may not take me back because there may be no place for me. But I was taught all my life that I could not, should not separate myself from others, and you are asking me to separate myself from everyone on Earth. I don't think I can.”

Reiho gazed at her sympathetically. Again, for just a moment, she had the illusion of touching his thoughts. “I must at least try to share what I have discovered with my village,” Daiya concluded, remembering the machines under the mountains again. She felt a twinge, knowing that the desire to learn more about those machines, and the obligation to share what she knew with her people, was not enough by itself to draw her. If she could have been happy on this strange world, she might have remained.

Etey nodded. “If that is how you feel, then there is little more I can say to you.”

Daiya knelt on the grass. An idea came to her, so odd and out of place that it did not seem part of her own mind. She looked up at Etey and Reiho. “May I speak to Homesmind again?” Reiho widened his eyes in surprise. “Will It be able to reply to me so that I can understand It clearly?” she went on. “I know, after touching its mind, that It knows more than any human mind can know ... perhaps It can help me.”

Etey had slipped the circlet through her belt. She held it out now, arching her eyebrows as she looked at Daiya. “I can guide you again, if you wish. You will understand Homesmind, though I do not know what you expect It to tell you. I am surprised at your request.” She pointed at the nearby trees. “We had better sit there, you can rest your back against a tree. You are not used to Homesmind and this trainer, and I do not want you so enthralled that you fall into the brook, or injure yourself. Reiho will watch over you.”

Daiya got up. They went over to the white trees. She sat down, leaning her back against smooth bark. Etey lifted the circlet. It was suddenly around her head. Daiya blinked.

A strand of Etey's mind held her, but she could not touch Etey's thoughts.—Help me—she thought, trying to mindspeak.—I can't stay here, I must return to Earth. I'm very much afraid I'll die there, but if I stay here, I'll only die more slowly. I know I'm still obligated to my village, but at the same time, I'm frightened—

At first, she felt nothing. Then she saw an empty plain devoid of foliage. She stared at the flat brown barren ground as something spoke inside her, a whisper.

What is it you want?
Homesmind answered.
Do you wish me to say you must return to Earth? Your people have chosen their way. Your planet is apart from most of humankind. The minds of Earth that were built so long ago now speak to me, awake again. They have no need of you. If you wish to stay here, you may, though you do not wish to now. You would not be the same person after a time, and you might feel differently later. But do what you like
.

—I'm afraid—

So you are
. The plain vanished and she saw Earth again. A small group of people stood on a mountainous island. They cried out and covered their faces as villagers tore out their minds. She was in a jungle. The stiff bodies of two young women lay next to a shuttle as bright-feathered birds shrieked. She was near a forest, where three men trampled the underbrush as they ran from the people who would kill them. Then she was on the brown plain again.
That is the fate of a few from this place who have tried to visit Earth. There have been others. When it became apparent that visitors to Earth did not return, people stopped going
. The whispering voice made a sound like a raspy chuckle. Daiya shook her head.
I heard them cry and could do nothing for them. Now, with the help of your machines, I can watch them die
. The whisper had an edge to it.
You too may die, even though you are part of Earth. It is a probability
. The voice seemed vaguely threatening.

—Tell me what to do—she pleaded.

I cannot. I shall not. That is up to you. Perhaps you should have faith in your people, faith that they will listen to you. Or perhaps you wish only to give up, and are seeking your executioner
. She winced, wishing she could escape the whisper.
You have already decided to go. There is little point in asking me to make your decision. But I will tell you this. There is power, you felt it when you touched the minds under the mountains. There is new knowledge in your mind. Those things can protect you
.

She waited for the voice to say more, but it was silent. She was irritated; she had felt Homesmind's power even in the whisper, yet It had told her nothing. The fog began to roll over the plain. She caught a tiny wisp of compassion—it seemed a weak feeling. Homesmind, she thought, was indifferent to her, indifferent to Earth, now that It could learn what It liked from the machines. Something tugged at her mind.
Untrue
, said a whispering voice, so soft she hardly heard it.

The fog was gone. Reiho was watching her. Etey took the trainer and hooked it through her belt again. “Did you find what you wanted, Daiya?”

“Didn't you hear any of Homesmind's words?”

“I did not listen. I thought it was a private discussion.” Etey stood up. “I shall take you back. I can remain with you for a time, in case you change your mind and wish to come back here. You may find it necessary, you know.”

Reiho said, “We shall take you back.”

Etey frowned as her eyes glanced at the boy. “There is no need for you to come with us.”

“There is. I brought Daiya here. I promised her I would protect her.”

“I shall protect her. There is no need for two of us to return to Earth.”

Reiho lifted his head. “There is no need for either of us to go, Etey. You know that. You could send Daiya back alone in the shuttle, allow it to pilot itself.”