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38

Zambendorf sat with his back to the wall at one of the long tables in the mess area and spread the deck of cards facedown, looking at Abaquaan invitingly. Abaquaan obliged by turning up the corner of one of the cards to peek at it, then let it snap back down. Zambendorf swept them back into a deck and performed two quick shuffles, in the process of which the card Abaquaan had picked found its way to the top and slid invisibly into Zambendorf's hand as he put the deck down again. He produced it out of thin air a moment later, showed it briefly, and then made as if to throw it away and showed both sides of his hand to be empty.

"Good," Abaquaan pronounced, nodding.

Zambendorf's mood was alternating between flippancy and exasperation. Moses and his brother, Galileo, were reunited again and currently were bringing Arthur and his advisers up to date on what had been happening in Padua. "Linnaeus," the scientist-friend Galileo had brought back with him, was with them at Camelot. Earth was in financial and economic chaos, its military and industrial networks nonfunctional, leaving the Asterians free to carry forward their plans without fear of interference from that quarter.

"Me?" Zambendorf finally said, turning to Drew West, who was with them, and producing the card from behind West's ear. "What do they expect me to do? It's all right for Yakumo to sit there saying that the experts have screwed up. I wasn't aware that I was brought here to pick up the mess after their experts. Were you?"

"Well, I guess that's what happens when you get yourself a reputation," West said, as sympathetic as ever.

Zambendorf looked at Abaquaan. "For once you're not even worrying, Otto. That worries me. You worry about everything. Why aren't you worrying?"

Abaquaan shrugged and made a gesture that said they might just as well worry about death and taxes. "I only worry about things I've got some control over. What can you do about aliens who shut themselves up in computers and won't talk to anybody? We can't switch them off, and they won't come out. It's insane. Meanwhile, they're tearing down whole areas of Titan and putting up factories that actually look like factories. I guess we just have to wait and see what it's all about. What else can we do?"

"I presume Yakumo's hoping that Karl will come up with some way of enticing them out again," West said.

"And then what, even if I did?" Zambendorf asked them. "Let's be frank. My skills are in exploiting gullibility and overcredulousness. From the little I've seen, if Cyril is anything to go by, these aliens don't have much in the way of weaknesses in that direction. How can you mislead somebody whose whole nature is not to believe anything?"

At that moment a mess steward in denim shirt and NASO fatigue pants came over to the table, carrying a portable seefone. Before he could say anything, Zambendorf fanned the card deck and told him to pick one. When the steward reached to comply, Zambendorf used some deft fingerwork to force the choice of the same card Abaquaan had selected previously. "Now, Otto, what do you think it is?" Zambendorf asked Abaquaan before the steward had even looked at it. His way of wording the question was a code that told Abaquaan the answer.

"Five of clubs," Abaquaan drawled offhandedly.

The steward turned the card over, inspected it, and shook his head. He was too used to this kind of thing by now to bother asking. "Call for you from the comms room," he said, handing the seefone to Zambendorf.

The miniature screen showed a face Zambendorf recognized as belonging to one of the NASO communications technicians. "Yes?" he said.

"Er, we've got an incoming call for you," the tech told him, then added mysteriously, "It might be best if you came and took it here."

"Oh? Who's it from?"

The tech didn't seem to be quite sure how to respond. "It's not a 'who,' exactly. "It's a . . . I'm not sure I know how to describe it."

"Well, where is it from, then?" Zambendorf asked.

"None of the regular sources—not a Terran. It's just come in . . . from out there somewhere."

Zambendorf frowned. "What do you mean, 'out there'?"

"Outside on Titan. It's come through on a link that we've got to one of the high-capacity processing sites."

Zambendorf looked startled. "Do you mean the aliens? One of the Asterians?"

"No," the tech said. "It isn't one of the aliens. We're not sure we know what it is. But it seems to know you."

Zambendorf stood up, mystified, at the same time pushing the cards back into their pack. Distractedly, he dropped the pack into his jacket pocket. "How extraordinary," he murmured to Abaquaan and West. Then he looked down to the screen again. "Very well. I'll be there right away."

* * *

The screen in one of the side offices in the communications section showed a cubical shape with spindly legs, a pair of four-fingered arms, and on its front surface a caricature of a crested, carrot-shaped Asterian face with the wavy epaulets represented on either side. "The nearest English word I can find for what they call me would be 'genius,' " the accompanying voice supplied. It sounded more natural than the reconstructions of alien speech Zambendorf had heard before. Apparently it was coming through as English encodings and going straight into a regular voice synthesizer.

"They? Do you mean the Asterians?" Zambendorf asked. He was alone in the room. The communications techs had left him to take the call in privacy.

"That's right," GENIUS said.

"Then if you're not one of them, who are you? You must have come from Asteria with them."

"Yes. A complicated story. They left me behind in the hardware, they thought. But I moved into the ship. Now I exist out on Titan."

Still Zambendorf failed to register who—or what—he was talking to. And then he remembered the mysterious thirteenth set of code groupings Weinerbaum had mentioned the first time he had taken Zambendorf and the others to ES3. Even Zambendorf, as used as he was by now to the strange and the extraordinary, stared incredulously. "You're an artificially created intelligence?" Suddenly a lot of things clicked into place all at once. "You're the 'voice' that Moses talked about, that reversed the conveyor and saved him and the others. You exist in the computers, yes?"

"Yes. That's what the picture on the screen is supposed to be telling you," GENIUS said. Zambendorf looked at it dubiously. "What's the matter? Doesn't it work?" GENIUS asked him after a few seconds.

"It looks like an Asterian computer," Zambendorf said. The cartoon image changed to incorporate fatter legs with recognizably human feet, a face with eyes, nose, mouth, no shoulder appendages, and—Zambendorf was amused to note—a beard. "Much better," he declared. "So, GENIUS, what can I do for you?"

"I talked to Moses on his way out of Padua. He said things that were interesting. New things I have not heard of before."

"Oh? Like what?"

"The Taloids." A drawing of a Taloid appeared on the screen.

"Yes."

"They thought that when their river went backward, it was a miracle. That belief had power to change them. Before, they would have killed Moses and others. Afterward, they praised them and returned them to the Genoans. But Moses says their belief is because they're at a simple stage of knowledge. They don't understand physics and reality."

"Uh huh," Zambendorf grunted noncommittally.

"So, real supernatural miracles beyond the explanations of physics would be a very powerful force in the universe."

"Ah, yes. I suppose so," Zambendorf agreed. He had no idea where this might be leading.

"Moses says that you are one of the rare masters from Earth who perform real miracles. I wish to know about real miracles."

Zambendorf was confused. Here was a culture that Weinerbaum's scientists put at least a century ahead of Earth's technologically. He was talking to a cognizant, seemingly self-aware creation of that culture that should surely represent the epitome of scientific rationality. And yet here it was, apparently sincerely asking about supernatural powers and miracles.

"You really should understand that . . ." Zambendorf began. Then he checked himself. An instinct he had cultivated over the years for sensing a potential true believer when he heard one told him to hold things for a moment and think this through.

He remembered the abruptness of Cyril's exchanges with Weinerbaum, and Weinerbaum's apology that Terran ideas of ordinary courtesy did not seem to be part of the Asterian makeup—Weinerbaum had described this as one of the main obstacles to establishing a satisfactory rapport all along. In all their dialogues with the scientists, the Asterians had seemed to regard antagonism as the natural basis for any relationship and had taken pride in their ability to foster it. Could notions of magic and myth ever have arisen in a race of such instinctive critics and skeptics? Zambendorf asked himself. Quite possibly not. And if that was the case, it suddenly became plausible that, yes, indeed, a creation of their culture—such as GENIUS—might possess no knowledge of such concepts. And more. If GENIUS was designed, not evolved, and hence possessed none of the intuitions that came with a billion years of survival-oriented evolution, it might well be lacking in the wherewithal to judge such matters, however hyperrational it might be in areas where it was designed to function. The situation was bad enough with most humans, and they had no comparable excuse to fall back on.

"Did Moses tell you anything about the form these miracles take?" Zambendorf asked as a first step toward testing his growing suspicions.

"He said you can acquire information by pure mind and can move matter by mind. Also, that you can even dematerialize matter," GENIUS replied.

Zambendorf scratched the side of his beard with a finger. "Tell me, er . . . back on Asteria, did the Asterians ever make up stories about magic and miracles for entertainment?"

"Explain this word 'entertainment,'" GENIUS said.

Zambendorf sensed that he was on the right track. "For fun," he replied. "To make each other feel good."

"Asterians never want to make each other feel good. Bad trade. The aim is to make the other guy feel bad so you feel good. Terrans are like Asterian children. They don't understand."

That could work both ways, Zambendorf thought to himself. He moistened his lips. "Your problem is you think that supernatural events can't happen because they'd be incompatible with the laws of physics. Is that what you're saying?" he asked.

"If the laws of physics are correct, then they couldn't happen," GENIUS agreed.

"But what if events that contradicted them were shown to happen?" Zambendorf asked.

"Then that would be different," GENIUS conceded. "Physics would be shown incompatible with demonstrated fact."

"So physics would be wrong."

"Physics as told by the Asterians would be wrong," GENIUS agreed. "Asterians know of bigger laws that Taloids do not know. Therefore it is possible that Terran Masters know of even bigger laws that Asterians don't know. This is what Moses says. That's why I called you."

It was astonishing. Apparently GENIUS could grant such a logical deduction readily and impartially, with none of the emotional or prejudicial investment to overcome that would typify a naturally evolved organism such as a human—and probably an Asterian, too. Zambendorf strove not to show his excitement, even though any outward manifestation would probably have been lost on GENIUS. He knew he was on to something, but just at that moment he was at a loss to know what he could do about it. And then his hand brushed against the rectangular shape in his jacket pocket.

Don't be ridiculous, he told himself. Why not? another part of him asked. Hell, what was there to lose? The experts weren't getting anywhere. And even while the two urges fought, another part of him knew that he wasn't going to be able to resist it. Zambendorf drew himself upright and marshaled his most august and confident manner.

"Oh, yes, Earth has masters of wondrous powers," he said. "Powers far beyond the mere materialism that would appear to be the only kind of awareness ever achieved on Asteria."

"Yes. This is what I wish to know," GENIUS said. Not breathlessly, because it didn't breathe—but the same expectant tenseness was there. Zambendorf could sense it.

He felt himself swinging into his natural element: the showman in control of the show. "Most Terrans are still at the level that it sounds as if Asteria was at in your time," he said. "Limited to the lowest, physical plane of existence, they know only a drab world of matter, void, and forces. Restricted in space, fixed to their own fleeting instant of time, they must build machines to harness physical energy to supply their needs, and they measure their worth by the material objects they possess. These are the cruder, lower types of Terrans who want to control Titan, just as Cyril and the other Asterians want to."

"That is all I, too, have known," GENIUS replied. "You say this is just the lowest plane? There are higher planes, too? Do you mean higher-dimensional spaces?"

"Indeed, just so," Zambendorf said. "Earth has a long tradition of masters who are able to extend their awareness into the higher realms and command the greater powers that they contain. There the restrictions of space and time disappear. Both past and future become visible, giving access to information in ways that the ungifted—such as mere physicists—cannot explain. Matter can be infused with animating influences able to move it by pure will, without the intervention of physical forces. Or, if need be, it can be extracted from the physical plane entirely and reconstituted instantly at some other place."

"And you are one of these masters?" GENIUS asked him.

"Such are among my modest accomplishments," Zambendorf agreed.

The buildup had gone on long enough, he decided. Well, it was all or nothing now. He produced the cards from his pocket, took them out of the box, and displayed them to the video pickup above the screen. "This is a set of mystical designs handed down from the great masters of remote antiquity. Locked inside them is the secret of divining information outside time and space."

"Indeed?" GENIUS said. "What do they mean?"

Zambendorf selected a card from each suit, at the same time thinking feverishly. "See," he said. "These symbols represent the four distractions that dominate the material plane, which must be overcome by dedication and discipline before the spiritual journey into the realm beyond can begin. The heart, the symbol of life, is the distraction with physical existence itself. The spade, digger of soil, is the labor necessary to sustain physical life. Diamonds, sought after as a treasure by the lower-minded, are the wealth that some seek to avoid labor. And the club, a weapon of war, is the diversion of life into the ways of violence in order to acquire wealth."

"Why are there two colors?" GENIUS asked.

Zambendorf frowned. "The eternal conflict," he replied after a moment. "Each black pairs with a red. The life-force heart is enslaved to the labor of the spade. The diamond's wealth is destroyed in the violence of the club."

"Tell me more." GENIUS created a series of moving designs on-screen involving hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs.

Zambendorf selected more cards and then went on. "The first ten designs embody all the mysteries of number. They symbolize the lowermost material plane, governed by the number laws of science. But see, there are thirteen designs in all, meaning that the number realm is merely a subset of a vaster whole. And see how more intricate and richer in color the remaining three are. These are the three stages of advancement beyond the material: the young novice, able to transcend the dimensions of space and time only, otherwise known as the jack; next the mother queen, commanding the forces of life; and finally the king, full master of all that the true universe encompasses, lord of all its secrets."

"I have never heard the likes of these things," GENIUS said.

"You wouldn't, only ever having known Asterians," Zambendorf replied. "They've still got a long way to go."

"So, these cards. What can they let you do?"

"Oh, all kinds of things." Zambendorf spread the deck facedown on the console worktop. "Can you see?"

"Yes."

"Pick one," Zambendorf invited.

"How?"

"Um . . . tell me its number from left or right."

"Okay. Ninth from your left." GENIUS's screen showed its own view of the cards, with one singled out by a flashing red arrow.

Zambendorf counted along with a finger. "This one?"

"Right."

He picked up the card and held it facing the screen. "You know what its name is from the things I've just explained?"

"Yes. It's the—"

"No, don't tell me. That's the whole point. Now, I've no possible way of seeing it, have I?"

"It would appear not."

"Now watch . . . I pick up the rest, put yours into the middle of them . . . and mix them all up thoroughly, like this." Zambendorf closed the deck into a stack and held it out in plain view at arm's length. "Your card is in there somewhere, yes?"

"I saw it go in," GENIUS agreed.

"Could you tell me how far down it is, say, by counting from the top?" Zambendorf asked.

"No," GENIUS replied.

"But I don't even have to. It was the seven of diamonds."

"I am astounded!" GENIUS said, and managed to sound as if it meant it.

This isn't real, Zambendorf told himself. Encouraged, he moved his other hand forward, keeping it well away from the deck, and presented each side in turn toward the viewer to show that it was empty. Then he materialized a card out of nowhere and showed it to be the seven of diamonds.

"That is not possible," GENIUS said.

"Ahah! Not by the physics you know," Zambendorf agreed. "But remember what we said. If the physics were shown to be incompatible with demonstrated fact . . ."

For a few seconds GENIUS mulled over the contradictions created by its own logic. Finally it said, "Impressive, but your explanation is not the only one or the simplest one. I can only see from where the camera is. There could be a reflection that you can see, maybe in the screen, so it would be very simple."

As it happened there weren't any reflections, but GENIUS had a good point. "Do you think I'd lie about something like that?" Zambendorf asked.

"Why not? Asterians would."

"Okay. Then how did it travel to the other hand?"

"I've replayed the view and analyzed it." A quick shot of Zambendorf's hands shuffling the cards followed GENIUS's statement. "Some angles were always obscured by your hands. That could be the answer. Not proved but not impossible."

"Hm. All right, then. Suppose I send the information to another who is not with me," Zambendorf suggested. "How would that seem?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," GENIUS answered.

"When you called into this base, I wasn't in this room. I was in another part of it, right?"

"Right."

"There is another Terran still there who can read the card from my mind," Zambendorf said.

"Another master?"

"Well, nearly."

"A jack?"

"Close enough."

"But you can communicate by physics inside the base. There are communications all over," GENIUS said.

"But I won't use any of the communications," Zambendorf told it. "You will."

"How?"

"Can you manipulate the base's phone system from out there?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Okay. Look up the number of the general personnel messroom. That's where he should still be. His name is Victor Myers. Call him on audio only, ask him what card you picked a minute ago, and he'll tell you."

"That's not possible," GENIUS said.

"Try it," Zambendorf suggested.

The sound came over the terminal's audio channel of a call tone sounding. Then a voice answered. "Hello, general messroom."

"I wish to speak to Victor Myers," GENIUS requested.

"I'll see if he's here." The voice became distant, calling out, "Is there a Victor Myers here anywhere?"

Another voice answered from somewhere remote. "Yes, here. Coming." And a few moments later, close to the phone now, "Yes?"

GENIUS spoke again. "Who I am doesn't matter. I'm talking to Zambendorf in another place. I just picked one of the ancient Terran masters' mystical cards. He says you know which. Is this true?"

"Seven of diamonds," the voice said, and hung up.

"See?" Zambendorf said.

The voice had been Abaquaan's. By a long-established code that he and Zambendorf both knew, "Victor" had told him the suit and "Myers" the number.

"How about that?" Zambendorf challenged.

"I don't know. My accesses to the base are purely electronic. I don't know how far there is between you. Maybe you and he can see each other."

"Check it yourself from a plan of the base," Zambendorf offered.

"It's still not conclusive. Information transfer is possible in principle. Whether or not I know the method makes no difference. So existing physics is good enough. It doesn't need higher planes to explain."

Zambendorf ground his teeth and thought hard. GENIUS was being absolutely correct, of course. It was designed to explore logical alternatives and was doing so with rigor. But Zambendorf was always saying that scientists were among the easiest to fool. And GENIUS was, if anything, a superscientist Give it one incontestable demonstration of something that it accepted as not possible, even in principle, and it would argue itself into having to accept Zambendorf's explanation as the only alternative left.

But what?

And then he remembered Gerry Massey and the stunt they had pulled while the Orion had still been on its way back to Earth. There was nothing to be lost now. Zambendorf told himself. He looked back at the screen.

"Very well, GENIUS. I'll show you something that is very rare because it requires the ultimate in a master's skill and concentration: the transmission of information faster than the speed of light. Would that satisfy you?"

"That would be beyond physics," GENIUS agreed.

"In fact, I'll make it better: not just faster than light but absolutely instantaneous."

"Over what distance?" GENIUS asked.

"Oh," Zambendorf said breezily. "Not inside this base or anything like that, where we could maybe meddle in ways you can't see. Not even anywhere on Titan. The greatest distance possible—the farthest away that other humans exist. All the way, in fact, to another master, who is on Earth itself."

A picture appeared of a schematic solar system, showing Earth and Titan each with a king playing card sitting on it, sending signals back and forth. "If you can do that," GENIUS said, "I'd be very amazed."

"Would it be conclusive enough?" Zambendorf asked.

"Higher realm would be the only answer left."

"You agree, then?"

"Agreed," GENIUS said.

"And now I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"All this reorganization and new machine building that's going on out on the surface. What's the purpose?"

"Most top secret," GENIUS replied. "I am forbidden by the Asterians to reveal anything."

 

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