[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
be broadcast on Circuit Five.' Or record every word I say and sell
video-chips: proceeds to go to the fleet's Memorial Fund. Maybe that'd stop
our secret snoops from hacking the ship's computers with peek-and-pry viruses.
One of these days, someone's going to make a programming error while trying to
crack our security and it'll crash some vital system."
Uclod snorted. "Conducting everything in the open won't prevent that, missy.
If I were a spy and everything you did was fully public, I'd be convinced you
were hiding somethingreally juicy. I'd tear the place apart looking for it."
"You'ddo that," my friend said, "but that's because Unorrs have a genuine
work ethic. I doubt if theHemlock's spies are that keen almost no one in our
pampered Technocracy has a sense of enterprise these days. Certainly not the
toadies who spy for high admirals."
"Hmmph," I said. "It sounds like your spies have Tired Brains."
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Festina cocked her head and looked at me with her garishly green eyes.
"Speaking of Tired Brains..." She stared at me keenly for several moments
without finishing her sentence. I stared back, attempting to look as Un-Tired
as possible. Finally my friend shrugged and said, "Let's talk."
12: WHEREIN I GATHER CRUCIAL INFORMATION
Ticking Bombs
The conference room had chairs that swiveled. This was most excellent indeed
if you sat with your knees tucked up to your chest, you could keep spinning
round until you got dizzy. Even better, one whole wall of the room was a great
panel showing a blizzard of stars; the panel pretended to be a window, but
Festina said it was actually a computer simulation. Either way, when you spun
on your chair, you saw stars whizzing past like white streaks... which just
goes to show Science is not totally bad, if it can make highly advanced chairs
for Personal Amusement.
While I spun, Festina revealed howRoyal Hemlock came to be in this region of
space. Apparently, it was due to Uclod's great-great-uncle, an elderly person
named Oh-God. Like all Unorrs, Uncle Oh-God was a terrible criminal one who
happened to specialize in an offense called smuggling. (I did not quite
understand why smuggling was such an odious crime, nor why humans gave it the
cozy name "smuggling," which sounds like a pleasant bed game, not a felony at
all; but my head was reeling in circles, so that is my excuse for not
following the logic.).
This Oh-God had not always been a professional lawbreaker in younger days, he
belonged to the Technocracy's Explorer Corps, though he was not human.[8]
Ex-Explorer Oh-God still kept in touch with his friends from the corps...
which is why he contacted Festina when he heard the Unorrs intended to release
Admiral York's secret files. He had warned Festina that trouble was
brewing there was no telling what the High Council might do to prevent the
full truth from coming out. Therefore, Oh-God advised Festina to protect
herself.
[8] Apparently, the Technocracy welcomed Freeps, Tye-Tyes, and other Divian
subspecies as citizens. Many Divian planets had even joined the Technocracy as
Fringe Worlds... which I believe means they served as Faithful Sidekicks
toreal worlds.
As soon as my friend received Oh-God's message, she realized the Admiralty
would try to erase all signs of what had happened on Melaquin. Accordingly,
she raced for my planet to preserve what evidence she could. Festina did not
know that four navy ships had several hours headstart on her; nor had Oh-God
mentioned that his great-grandnephew Uclod had set out for Melaquin even
earlier. Therefore, Festina hastened through The Void, thinking she had a
chance of reaching Oarville first... and she would have flown all the way to
my planet, if her ship had not detected the brief transmission I made before
the Shaddill jammed our communications. Since it was not far off her intended
route, she ordered her crew to check the source of the signal. That is how my
Faithful Sidekick found me in the infinite depths of space; and I was only a
tiny bit angered she had not been searching for me, and had never visited
Melaquin in the years since I supposedly died.
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"But the planet was off-limits," Festina protested as if that were sufficient
excuse for not coming to weep on my grave. "I'd forced the Admiralty to agree
no one would ever land on Melaquin again: not the council, not me, not anyone
associated with the Technocracy. It was the best way to keep the League of
Peoples happy. That's why nobody had cleaned up the evidence before; the top
admirals didn't want to risk upsetting the League. Now, of course, with their
asses on the line, the council will doanything to stay out of jail... which
means they're like rabid dogs, biting anyone who gets in the way."
"Including us?" Uclod asked.
"You, me, and their own dear mothers... not to mention," Festina raised her
voice slightly, "anyone who's managed to hack into the ship's internal
intercoms to eavesdrop on this meeting."
"You think we are being spied upon?" I whispered.
"On this damned ship, it's a certainty. The ship-soul computers are
constantly listening... which means other ears could be listening too."
Uclod snorted. "Hell of a security system you got if any Tom, Dick, or Harry
can hack into your hardware."
Festina glared at him. "The fleet's computer security is nigh well unbeatable
against outsiders; the problems only come from insider spies. The spies work
for admirals, and admirals all have backdoor access codes that circumvent our
regular safeguards." Her fierce expression melted to a rueful smile.
"Basically, this meeting is shielded against everyone except the bastards who
are most likely to eavesdrop on us. And if anybodyis eavesdropping," she said,
raising her voice again, "you now know too much for the High Council's
comfort. If I happened to be a spy, I'd think long and hard about my own
personal safety. If, for example, I received a secret order like,
'SabotageRoyal Hemlock,' I'd wonder what would happen if I obeyed. Suppose I
disabled theHemlock so it could be captured by the council. Would the
Admiralty really reward me for devotion to duty? Or would I end up with
everyone else on a thousand-year sleep-ship to Andromeda?"
She let the question hang in the air. Finally, it was the mook sergeant who
broke the silence. "The admiral realizes," he said, "how unlikely it is
thatevery spy on board will accept your reasoning?"
"Certainly," Festina told him. "There'll always be idiots who dream of big
payoffs, even when they know they're working for treacherous bastards. But I'm
hoping there'll also be sensible people to stop them. People who'd rather not
fall off the map, thank you very much, and who'll blow the whistle to me or
the captain."
"The admiral is an optimist," Sergeant Mook said, though he was smiling
behind his visor. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
be broadcast on Circuit Five.' Or record every word I say and sell
video-chips: proceeds to go to the fleet's Memorial Fund. Maybe that'd stop
our secret snoops from hacking the ship's computers with peek-and-pry viruses.
One of these days, someone's going to make a programming error while trying to
crack our security and it'll crash some vital system."
Uclod snorted. "Conducting everything in the open won't prevent that, missy.
If I were a spy and everything you did was fully public, I'd be convinced you
were hiding somethingreally juicy. I'd tear the place apart looking for it."
"You'ddo that," my friend said, "but that's because Unorrs have a genuine
work ethic. I doubt if theHemlock's spies are that keen almost no one in our
pampered Technocracy has a sense of enterprise these days. Certainly not the
toadies who spy for high admirals."
"Hmmph," I said. "It sounds like your spies have Tired Brains."
Page 81
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Festina cocked her head and looked at me with her garishly green eyes.
"Speaking of Tired Brains..." She stared at me keenly for several moments
without finishing her sentence. I stared back, attempting to look as Un-Tired
as possible. Finally my friend shrugged and said, "Let's talk."
12: WHEREIN I GATHER CRUCIAL INFORMATION
Ticking Bombs
The conference room had chairs that swiveled. This was most excellent indeed
if you sat with your knees tucked up to your chest, you could keep spinning
round until you got dizzy. Even better, one whole wall of the room was a great
panel showing a blizzard of stars; the panel pretended to be a window, but
Festina said it was actually a computer simulation. Either way, when you spun
on your chair, you saw stars whizzing past like white streaks... which just
goes to show Science is not totally bad, if it can make highly advanced chairs
for Personal Amusement.
While I spun, Festina revealed howRoyal Hemlock came to be in this region of
space. Apparently, it was due to Uclod's great-great-uncle, an elderly person
named Oh-God. Like all Unorrs, Uncle Oh-God was a terrible criminal one who
happened to specialize in an offense called smuggling. (I did not quite
understand why smuggling was such an odious crime, nor why humans gave it the
cozy name "smuggling," which sounds like a pleasant bed game, not a felony at
all; but my head was reeling in circles, so that is my excuse for not
following the logic.).
This Oh-God had not always been a professional lawbreaker in younger days, he
belonged to the Technocracy's Explorer Corps, though he was not human.[8]
Ex-Explorer Oh-God still kept in touch with his friends from the corps...
which is why he contacted Festina when he heard the Unorrs intended to release
Admiral York's secret files. He had warned Festina that trouble was
brewing there was no telling what the High Council might do to prevent the
full truth from coming out. Therefore, Oh-God advised Festina to protect
herself.
[8] Apparently, the Technocracy welcomed Freeps, Tye-Tyes, and other Divian
subspecies as citizens. Many Divian planets had even joined the Technocracy as
Fringe Worlds... which I believe means they served as Faithful Sidekicks
toreal worlds.
As soon as my friend received Oh-God's message, she realized the Admiralty
would try to erase all signs of what had happened on Melaquin. Accordingly,
she raced for my planet to preserve what evidence she could. Festina did not
know that four navy ships had several hours headstart on her; nor had Oh-God
mentioned that his great-grandnephew Uclod had set out for Melaquin even
earlier. Therefore, Festina hastened through The Void, thinking she had a
chance of reaching Oarville first... and she would have flown all the way to
my planet, if her ship had not detected the brief transmission I made before
the Shaddill jammed our communications. Since it was not far off her intended
route, she ordered her crew to check the source of the signal. That is how my
Faithful Sidekick found me in the infinite depths of space; and I was only a
tiny bit angered she had not been searching for me, and had never visited
Melaquin in the years since I supposedly died.
Page 82
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"But the planet was off-limits," Festina protested as if that were sufficient
excuse for not coming to weep on my grave. "I'd forced the Admiralty to agree
no one would ever land on Melaquin again: not the council, not me, not anyone
associated with the Technocracy. It was the best way to keep the League of
Peoples happy. That's why nobody had cleaned up the evidence before; the top
admirals didn't want to risk upsetting the League. Now, of course, with their
asses on the line, the council will doanything to stay out of jail... which
means they're like rabid dogs, biting anyone who gets in the way."
"Including us?" Uclod asked.
"You, me, and their own dear mothers... not to mention," Festina raised her
voice slightly, "anyone who's managed to hack into the ship's internal
intercoms to eavesdrop on this meeting."
"You think we are being spied upon?" I whispered.
"On this damned ship, it's a certainty. The ship-soul computers are
constantly listening... which means other ears could be listening too."
Uclod snorted. "Hell of a security system you got if any Tom, Dick, or Harry
can hack into your hardware."
Festina glared at him. "The fleet's computer security is nigh well unbeatable
against outsiders; the problems only come from insider spies. The spies work
for admirals, and admirals all have backdoor access codes that circumvent our
regular safeguards." Her fierce expression melted to a rueful smile.
"Basically, this meeting is shielded against everyone except the bastards who
are most likely to eavesdrop on us. And if anybodyis eavesdropping," she said,
raising her voice again, "you now know too much for the High Council's
comfort. If I happened to be a spy, I'd think long and hard about my own
personal safety. If, for example, I received a secret order like,
'SabotageRoyal Hemlock,' I'd wonder what would happen if I obeyed. Suppose I
disabled theHemlock so it could be captured by the council. Would the
Admiralty really reward me for devotion to duty? Or would I end up with
everyone else on a thousand-year sleep-ship to Andromeda?"
She let the question hang in the air. Finally, it was the mook sergeant who
broke the silence. "The admiral realizes," he said, "how unlikely it is
thatevery spy on board will accept your reasoning?"
"Certainly," Festina told him. "There'll always be idiots who dream of big
payoffs, even when they know they're working for treacherous bastards. But I'm
hoping there'll also be sensible people to stop them. People who'd rather not
fall off the map, thank you very much, and who'll blow the whistle to me or
the captain."
"The admiral is an optimist," Sergeant Mook said, though he was smiling
behind his visor. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]