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[UW] AI yai yai. [Bai 1.2]
Bai,
Did you see Xuan sneak off with Nobu? What sort of repercussions might result if they were observed?
In any case a helpful young crewman helps you to your suite. As soon as the door shuts behind you, a voice speaks.
“Good evening, Mistress. Did you enjoy the party?”
What does Jun-Shi’s voice sound like, given its proclivites?
Comments
Repercussions for indiscretions on Xuan’s part depend entirely on who sees them. Few enough here are willing to speak openly against the Emperor’s daughter. The ship is large enough that simply leaving together will not necessarily signal their destination, and Xuan is fully capable of subterfuge… It is more a matter of whether she cares to hide what she’s up to.
Jun’s voice betrays no gender as it greets me. It is of just such a pitch that it could be male or female. I long ago stopped thinking of Jun as either. When it chooses to create a visual manifestation of itself, it is invariably mathematical in nature, frequently fractal, but sometimes a tesseract or a plot of one of its internal inference structures. Just as it eschews human appearance, its voice is subtly non-human as well–nothing so obvious as a metallic or a monotone voice, or one that misplaces syllable stress (unless it’s being ironic). Perhaps it is Jun’s unfailing calm that makes it seem not quite human.
“Good evening, Jun,” I say, crossing the room briskly. “The party was lovely. I hope you were able to find time to peek in.” A mischievous grin crosses my face. “Your girlfriend was there. She looked stunning.” Ever since the time Jun observed that the Duchess was “quite attractive by human standards” I’ve delighted in teasing it about having a crush on her. It offends its non-human self-image and causes the closest thing I’ve heard to a human sputter in its responses. Of course, I don’t really think it has a crush on Rei…but sometimes I wonder…at what point is that possible? And in the meantime it’s great fun.
“Have you had time to infiltrate the ship’s communications and security systems yet? There’s something going on. Something that has turned our dear captain quite pale and broke the party up rather abruptly. I’d like to know what it is.”
I continue to my private chamber and sit down in my chair by the sim-fire. The warmth feels good on my tired legs. I don’t thank Jun–it was a kindness for certain, but Jun would be embarrassed at my saying so. I reach for the fan on the endtable, unfold it, and swish the air just so. A barely perceptible cloud of what appears to be dust wafts from the fan to encircle my head and settle on my skin. I breathe deeply, establishing my neural interface to the gear in this room. Bright dataplanes appear before my eyes, and I reach out to the dataspace–the public dataspace–for now–until Jun tells me it has disabled any defenses on the ship’s private dataspace perimeter.
Bai,
The only hint of a response to your teasing is a barely unusual modulation in its ambiguous voice.
“I was able to monitor the party for its entire duration, Mistress, and was able to confirm with reasonable precision that in terms of ancient ideas of mathematical harmony, Her Grace’s aspect contains the highest number of correlations, followed closely by Mxr Archbelloch.”
“Captain King is quite right to be concerned. An invasive sabotage device has been introduced to the ship. Mr. Bezier has accessed the device. I was able to access internal security and communications with little effort due to the previous breach of the security system.”
Information from the ships internal communications and security begin to feed into your data planes.
“You’re a hopeless romantic, Jun,” I say with a small smile, already distracted by the data flowing into my displays.
Mr. Bezier has his work cut out for him. This is not a simple beast. I stay out of the way–not doing anything to change the behavior, not sinking any new data probes, merely watching existing diagnostic feeds, and of course, those of Mr. Bezier. It appears that he is going to first contain the invader–reasonable enough. I will keep my own activity stealthy enough and sufficiently on the periphery so as to not run afoul of Mr. Bezier’s code. The biggest danger to him is mutation, so that is precisely the circumstance against which I shall remain vigilant.
His code and instincts are quite good, he's setting up a construct to distract it and delay the node growth while he goes after the rest. But you note the activation of intrusion countermeasures that's going to make the job especially difficult.
What do you do?
“Are you watching those countermeasures, Jun? He’s good, but they’re going to give him a rough time of it. I think maybe they need a little more to be concerned about… Shall we try the Palace Doors maneuver?” This is a little search scheme used by hackers ransacking a compromised system. The visualization is of a thief already inside the palace, throwing open doors in search of something worth grabbing before fleeing into the night. I’ve been inside the perimeter long enough to see the doors. Jun and I go down the line, popping “doors” open. That should get them to stop chasing shadows.
Get involved (interface): (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 2. Total: 7)
Bai,
Your distraction succeeded brilliantly. The timing was only slightly off, the IC’s tripping Mr. Bezier’s alarms before being distracted by your subrafuge and he’s sent a subroutine to investigate. It’s good quality, too, probably self-written.
“It appears that Mr. Bezier knows his business, wouldn’t you agree, Jun? It’s a comfort to see the ship so well protected. I believe we should make ourselves scarce before he becomes too interested. Do try to avoid a trail, but leave him a little something so he knows we are friend and not foe, won’t you?” With that, I disconnect. Sweeping motions of my hands dismiss my data planes. I snap my fan shut. For a few moments, the air around it ripples in a manner reminiscent of a heat mirage as the HCI mist is reabsorbed.
Bai,
“Of course, Mistress.” Jun says as you rise from your chair. “Soyinka Nobu appears to have completed his discussion with her Highness, the Princess, Mistress.
Xuan’s rooms are an extension of your suite so surely he will emerge into the common area. An opportunity perhaps, unless you have something else to attend to.
What do you do?
I collect my walking stick and a hat that no younger person can truly pull off, and I move to the common room. I find that young people, in particular, are often more forthcoming when feeling caught at something. I plan to catch Nobu and learn a bit more about my young niece’s betrothed. I sit in one of the two formal chairs, giving the young man the awkward choice between taking the other formal seat–too close to me for his age and station, taking a spot on the sofa–putting him below eye level and in dubious posture, or remaining standing like a supplicant. A person’s choice between bad alternatives can be so illuminating.
"Lady Bai... I..." He glances back toward Xuan's door, composes himself. "I was only just saying to her Highness that I regretted not getting the chance to speak with you at the party. Mother speaks so fondly of you."
He considers the options available to him and chooses to remain standing. Humility, then.
“Were you, indeed?” I cock my head slightly and fix him with an appraising glare for just long enough to him uncomfortable. “I am certain, had you found me, I should have been quite pleased to speak with you. One wonders, though, at your not availing yourself of the simple expedient of asking after me. I believe nearly anyone might have told you that you would not find me in my niece’s bedchamber.”
He raises his chin a bit. "Your acquaintance was not my only object, considering our proposed union. Her Highness wished to continue our conversation. As did I. Despite the supposed impropriety, I do not regret it."
By his face, that isn't quite true.
"But if your Grace wishes to require the dance of honor, though I protest it's necessity, my fan stands ready to meet yours at your convenience."
I raise an eyebrow and purse my lips in what might be amusement or might equally be taken as irritation.
“My sense of my own importance is not so inflated that, upon encountering a young man exiting my niece’s bedchamber, I presume that making my acquaintance was his only object.”
I raise a finger from my walking stick to forestall his objection. “You are precisely correct when you refer to Her Imperial Highness as your intended. Because that, dear boy, is the truth of your relationship–intended. That a thing is intended is not the same as its coming to pass.”
His lips compress slightly. "Indeed, nor is it even an indicator that it will come to pass." He responds, with the tiniest tinge of disappointment. "Though it is a profound honor for me to receive your Grace's instruction on the matter, I must beg your Grace's indulgence and excuse myself. I am afraid I am quite fatigued and do not wish to dishonor myself by not being able to retain the lesson."
He sketches a slight bow, and turns to go.
I nod and smile, acknowledging the skillfulness of his maneuver. “Very well, though you’ll forgive me if I question the sincerity of your fear of dishonoring yourself. I have seldom seen a retreat so deftly executed. Had General Aiko done so well at Sciri, perhaps the 2nd Fleet would still be worthy of that name.”
I put both hands atop my walking stick, as if I mean to rise. Of course, I do not actually rise. This is just to get him in motion–I am not some butler to be walking him out, especially having encountered him under less than completely appropriate circumstances.
“Do visit again,” I say. “And when you do, please join me for tea. A benefit of my advanced age is that my reputation can weather an unchaperoned gentleman visitor more readily than can my niece’s. She is…an unconventional young woman, and despite what you may have heard about me, I quite approve of her–much of the time, at any rate. I safeguard her reputation, not out of antiquated prudishness, but because I would not have her draw undue attention. If one departs from tradition in important ways, one does not benefit from attracting the spotlight through minor acts of rebellion.”
I watch him closely, paying special attention to his reaction to the word “rebellion”.
The quiet, compelling power of a painting, a Zen garden, or a formal tea is so often overlooked. Young people ask and expect questions. Questions, however, at best, elicit answers merely to the thing one has asked.
The beauty of creating the correct milieu, whether with brush, rake, or words, is that the questioned individual answers without being asked, without knowing he has answered, and sometimes even offers truths the questioner did not know to seek.
I want to know many things: how rash my young niece is, how much trust she has placed in the young man before me, how quick he is to discuss things he should not--whether with eyes or mouth. Through carefully choosing my words, I seek to create a setting in which his response must tell me some of these things-or perhaps something else entirely. Even a woman of my age can be surprised from time to time.
I do so hope he is as bright and as cautious as he seems. I have known the sadness of outliving a child, and I would not wish the same for Rei, but if I find that her son is a danger to Xuan or the rebellion...I will give Rei what comfort I can.
Assess: (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 6. Total: 14)
"I hope you will forgive my trespass, then, your Grace, and be assured of my future caution. Even if she should decide against our alliance... I would sooner see my own blood upon the floor than to expose her to the slightest danger though my actions. Tradition is not a bad thing when not taken to extremes. I can only say I was overcome with my own seeming good fortune. It will not happen again."
To Xuan, he poses no direct danger. He would not expose her. To the rebellion? Well he doesn't believe that they are in the right. He believes in reform more than revolution and he is afraid they will provoke the system beyond all hope of repair. If he discovers the local members of the rebellion they will be either an obstacle to his cause or an opportunity to advance it, and he has the conviction to address either situation.
"Well," I say, favoring him with a smile. "I shouldn't think terribly much forgiveness is necessary in this case. I believe your intent is honorable. I incline my head slightly as if I've just pronounced a sort of benign judgment, and perhaps I have.
I raise my eyebrows and heave a sigh of mild exasperation. "And you certainly have the conviction of youth." Then, getting more serious, I fix him with a serious look, pointing at him ever so slightly by moving the head of my walking stick toward him. "I admire your appreciation of tradition, Young Master Soyinka, as well as your recognition that it can be taken to extremes. Indulge an old woman, will you? Allow me tell you a story--something to contemplate until next we meet.
"In ancient days, our people sailed up and down the rivers our our lands in flat-bottomed boats. So successful were they that the builders formed a guild to train men from all of our lands in the proper manner of building these boats.
"But not everyone can be a master boat builder, and in time, it became necessary--for safety as well as to safeguard the reputation of the builders--to not merely teach, but to enforce as well. With these twin burdens of education and enforcement, the builders needed to extract more from the trade of any who used boats of their design. At the same time, the builders forbade new designs of any sort, for they did not have the resources to govern the imagination of all who would create ships, and could not conscience the thought of a catastrophe arising from a faulty design.
"Then came the day that our people sought to trade with those from across the ocean. The violence of the open sea was very unlike the rivers on which our boats had sailed for generations. The builders guild, who had been so successful for so long, sought to evolve our riverboats into something suitable for the sea. However, it had been generations since anyone had designed something truly novel. Others had ideas, but they ran counter to tradition and they made the builders guild appear unnecessary. New ocean-faring ships were burned by the guild in the name of tradition and safety. Rogue builders were executed. Good people burned shipyards and destroyed lives out of loyalty to the guild, fear of change, and the allure of the status quo. 'We will come up with the way forward,' they said. 'We will change to meet this new challenge.' But they did not, could not, change quickly enough, for they were too few and too busy enforcing their own ideas and destroying the ideas of others. The guild had become bound by its own success, and in enforcing its will on all others who might have achieved success, jeopardized our people's future.
"Our people's salvation came only at the utter destruction of the guild. Had the people delayed, had they waited the generations it would have taken for the gradual departure or conversion of those had come to put the benefit of the guild before the benefit of the people, they would have been unprepared when invaders' sails emerged over the horizon. If they had delayed, you and I would likely not be here.
"Perhaps it is a survival trait of our species that tradition is valued most highly by the old."
He bows again, more deeply.
"Is it indeed? Thank you your Grace, I shall consider it most carefully." He turns to gather his guard up by eye and they move to the hatch. He pauses in the hatchway, half-turning. "The old tales are so wonderfully simple... It is a pity life is not the same." He nods another bow and departs.
I incline my head in response to his bow–a bit more than absolutely required by social convention–and watch him go. He is an interesting young man–cautious, not easily swayed, calm under pressure. He is less likely to get Xuan killed than many I could imagine, which is one of the characteristics I look for in a man betrothed to my niece. It’s nice to think that I might not have to kill this one.
Life support warning lights flash on, accompanied by a calm mechanical voice issuing instructions about breather masks availability. Nobu has just stepped through the door to be called to from down the passageway.
"My Lord, come attend her grace. We are evacuating the ship!" The voice calls. You recall the voice belonging to Rei’s head of security.
Evacuating the ship? I rather hope not. I was beginning to like it here.
I grip my walking stick and rise from my chair. Crossing to Xuan's door, I rap on it with the head of my walking stick. "Excuse me, Lady Xuan" Getting no answer, I rap again. She is probably in an 'ractive and not paying any attention to the real world. Though...the ship should have preempted all entertainment media to make its announcement. I enter her room, saying, "Young lady--"
Looking around the empty room, I sigh--more with exasperation than surprise. Leave it to Xuan to get herself a room with a means of spiriting herself away and use it in the middle of a crisis. I wonder, was the young man a planned diversion or merely an opportunity? I don't believe he was a willing accomplice in Xuan's slipping away. He seemed to be genuinely startled at encountering me.
"Jun..." I address the AI. "Do you know the whereabouts of Her Imperial Highness?" Almost certainly, that girl has somehow put herself in the middle of all of this. I mean to see her in the middle of an escape pod.
"Did you know that there is only one member of the crew to whom Her Imperial Highness has not been introduced? In fact they have never been in the same compartment."
My lips compress into a thin line, and I am about to launch into a discussion about propriety and the obligations to one's creator, but Jun's discussion of this other crew member sounds an odd note. It is unlike Jun to make observations without a goal. I purse my lips, narrow my eyes and tilt my head slightly toward the ceiling as I consider this. "Only one crew member, you say, that has not been introduced to Her Imperial Highness? That is, indeed, most interesting, Jun. Please, tell me about this unfortunate crew member and their whereabouts. I should very much like to make their acquaintance."
“Of course, Mistress. At present Private Johannesburg is with Captain King in the Observation Bay. They are confronting the Duchess´ security detail.”
Thank you, Jun, I say, rising from my chair, momentarily forgetting to use my walking stick. “I believe it is time for ‘Private Johannesburg’ to get to a shuttle.” I straighten my hat as I walk out the door. "Oh, and Jun? Do see if you can route Rei’s personal and staff comms to my comm-plant. Secure ship comms as well. Anything that you have to work to crack is something I want to hear.
“As you wish, Mistress” Jun intones.
Bai, please go here