That’s when the trouble began.
That isn’t exactly what we were expecting. It seems like a pretty good place for all the trouble to wind down. As Wynne put it, the end game. But it was Wynne’s luck that was about to end.
He explained the whole thing to Tara. “And as it turned out,” he said, “Thoughtful’s urgent message was that Lucius is the head of the decorating committee for some Floatfish celebration that will take place in thirty years. It was lucky that his app was still on Suzanna’s datapad.”
Tara was silent. She’d been drinking heavily – well, more heavily than usual. Now she was staring sullenly into the glass, poking at her ice cubes. I knew that mood. In a minute, she’d start throwing them.
“We confiscated the datapad, which made Suzanna furious, by the way. It must get boring flying through wormholes because she had 67,000 hours of media push on it, including a lot of rare pornography. So Thoughtful had to transfer all of it to a new pad, which meant that Lilith couldn’t access his app for a few minutes. She was not happy about that.”
Tara threw an ice cube across the room, where it shattered against the wardrobe.
“You’re upset,” said Wynne. “You really can’t stand the thought of a relationship between a humanoid and an AI, is that it? After everything Thoughtful 45 has done for us, you might try to put aside your prejudice for a moment…”
“He was completely able to simulate the psionic pattern she needed through programming.”
“Well, I suppose. I don’t really know the details.”
Tara turned her head, staring directly at Wynne. She propped her chin on her hand, elbow skewed a little drunkenly on the arm of the couch. “Then, to quote your particulate friends, what the Sam Hill are you doing hanging out with this bunch of losers?”
“What?”
“Review the SongLuminants’ report. They think everything about you is great – except me. I’m some flipping ape-woman. And now it turns out you don’t need me at all. You can just go visit your friends, the Quicklubes, your advanced sentient friends and set yourself up with someone who can take my place. Just think – you won’t have to worry about my temper, or my cholesterol level…”
“Sweetness, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I? Esau got replaced easily enough.”
“Esau was a fraud from the start. Thoughtful 45 took radical action because we’d either have to kill Lilith, or watch her go mad when we killed Esau. If you think that’s going to be the new and preferred method of finding a Chosen, you’ve got to be nuts.”
“Or just a moronic rudimentary sentient.”
“Tara, what about our vision of you? The one that guides I and I in everything we’ve ever done?”
“Tara’s destiny? Are you certain that’s a vision of me? Maybe it’s just an illusion projected by some Quicktime, one perfectly calibrated to maximize your evolutionary potential.”
“I, ah…”
Wynne fumbled. Wynne fumbled because at this point, the internal conversation of some three-dozen voices was something like this:
MOST RIDICULOUS THING I’VE EVER
But can we entirely discount
Cannot replace the feeling of a hand placing a seed into the
I can’t believe you’re even entertaining
I should run a simulation of this
I don’t care if it’s true I only want Tara
We don’t have a choice either way
A bunch of fucking morons
If this is what the Mover has planned I will defy him
I will immolate us before I allow
Thoughtful 45 is a great guy, but he has lousy tits, I said loudly.
Cillian snorted. Then Cüinn started to laugh. Soon we were all laughing, including Wynne.
“You think it’s fucking funny?” screamed Tara. Then she threw her glass at his head.
Luckily, Wynne dodged so adeptly he didn’t even stain his red velvet dinner jacket.
*****
It turned out to be not so funny at all. Tara locked us out of the bedroom. Of course, we could’ve easily picked the locks. We all agreed that it would accomplish nothing at all.
First, we’d better decide whether Wynne is the man for the job, said Ailann. Energy is feeling pretty good, so we’ve maybe got two swaps left before returning to one of our trees. More, if the swap is me or Aran.
If only we had more nul-matter, said Cüinn, we could make a pos-nul reactor beam and use it kind of like a grow-lamp.
One of our swaps should be one of the engineering teams, said Ethan. Right now, the power grid is functioning, but in order to make any adjustments to it, the Matriarch’s Staff has to be operational.
It’s not too likely that there will be any sort of extreme system energy draw in the next few days, said Ailann.
Besides, can’t we just order everyone to conserve energy? said Aran.
For what reason? Driscoll replied. We still haven’t figured out the PR spin to put on Lilith and the vampire cult.
The immediate problem is Tara, said Whirljack. Nothing else matters.
Without Tara, the stupid power grid doesn’t mean compost, said Ari.
That’s easy for you to say, said Ailann. But billions depend on it.
Maybe it would be easier for you if our Chosen were an AI, oh Living God of Skarsia, Ari retorted.
Ari, that was really low, said Daniel.
I don’t like the way you’re talking, said Sloane.
Look who speaks up now, said Ari. Sloane, you’re so delusional, would you even notice if the real Tara weren’t there?
Sloane launched himself across the room at Ari. It wasn’t much of a launch – the room is pretty small. But it took us by surprise. Now Sloane is a reasonably sized man, but Ari is enormous. It was sort of like a chihuahund attacking a bull mastodon.
It was for real, too. Normally, in these kind of fights, Cillian just slugs someone – usually Lorcan – and that’s about it.
What the hell are you fighting about? I yelled as we attempted to pull them apart. Neither one of you wants to lose Tara.
What if somebody does? said Ari. What if the Mover does?
Everybody needs to calm down, said Patrick.
That’s easy for you to say, Cillian replied. Your son is dating a doctor. My daughter is some kind of freaking otaku.
Did you like it better where she was a treasonous, murderous vampire? asked Constantine.
The jury’s still out, said Cillian.
Let’s just get it out in the open, said Patrick. Who wants to replace Tara with an AI?
Like anyone is going to admit it, said Ari.
Because you’d pound the living compost out of him, said Cillian. And so would I.
I admit I considered the possibility, said Cüinn, but I rejected it almost immediately due to Tommy’s flawless logic.
Large breasts are logical? asked Evan. But in all honesty, I don’t even like that we could consider the idea. It calls into question our n’aashet n’aaverti.
Maybe we all need some Tara-therapy, Tarlach suggested. Except Owen and Lugh, of course.
Owen and Lugh exchanged glances. We can’t figure out why you guys are taking this seriously, said Lugh. Tara has always been great to us. Why would we possibly need anyone else?
Even the deviants think so, said Lorcan. So can we fight about something more entertaining now?
I agree with Lorcan, said Driscoll. This discussion is so pointless that I’ve been working on the Floatfish gala. I’m thinking fish-shaped piñatas. The Floatfish will understand that the joke is on them, and they’ll love it. The SongLuminants and the Twist will appreciate my wry irony. The rest of them will be thrilled by the explosion of party-favors.
The problem is that Tara is jealous, said Seth.
We, ah, kind of figured that out, I said.
It isn’t that Seth is exactly slow, said Cüinn, it’s just that if the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, he walks the edges of a hyperbolic 3-space icosahedral honeycomb.
You, of all people, said Seth to Cüinn, should recognize the value of methodical research.
Actually, said Owen, one of Cüinn’s problems is that his theories always run about 500 steps in front of his proofs. That’s why he needs guys like us to back him up.
How, exactly, is this solving the problem of Tara locking us out of the bedroom? said Whirljack.
I just don’t get it, said Mickey. Tara makes such a huge deal about how she never gets to see Wynne, and the minute he shows up, she kicks him out.
She just doesn’t know him well enough, said Valentin. Whoever approaches this topic had better be someone she really trusts. Perhaps Patrick?
Not me, he said. I fall apart in this kind of situation. Remember that time she left me? Whirljack had to do damage control.
Not this time, said Blackjack. This time, I’d have to tag along, and then she couldn’t really say anything intimate to Whirljack. Besides, she doesn’t take me seriously. I don’t even take me seriously. I think Ailann should go. She always relies on him to fix things.
But we fight all the time, said Ailann. If Ari could make that accusation about me, wouldn’t she? Maybe the logical choice is Aran. Tara and Aran were getting along really well back on Dolparessa. She believes in his loyalty.
I’m flattered that you think so, said Aran. And while I think both Ari and myself have a measure of her confidence, I must agree with the earlier assessment. In this case, the most familiar is the best choice.
I’ll go, said Daniel.
It stopped us up short. Of course – she’d never lock him out. But the thought that he would even speak up for himself, let alone volunteer, was so highly unusual.
Ah well, lucky at cards, unlucky at love, Wynne sighed, lifting his arms.