Primary Inversion (Saga of the Skolian Empire) Paperback by Catherine Asaro Page B
Book: Primary Inversion (Saga of the Skolian Empire) Paperback by Catherine Asaro
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Authors: Catherine Asaro
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Eubians. The Trader inventories of
military personnel and equipment dwarfed ours, but we could outmaneuver,
outcommunicate, and outcalculate them. They lumbered; we sailed.
The Aristos had no psiber abilities. Their providers did,
but they refused to acknowledge that providers could do anything but provide.
Still, I wouldn’t have been surprised if either they or the Allieds had tried
to build a Skol-Net and failed. It needed a Rhon telepath to power it and no
member of my family would ever consent to do that for them.
That was why my family still held so much power in an age of
modern politics. No machine could connect directly into the Net. The only way
to link in hardware was through the minds of its users. And just as one
computer needed a central processor, so the Skol-Net with its billions of nodes
needed a Rhon psion to maintain it as a coherent web. Only we had the immense
mental resources for that job. Without my family there was no Skol-Net and
without the Net there was no Skolian Imperialate.
Homer, try this, I thought. Hail node PS42.mil on the
Skol-Net. When you get the ‘Restricted’ message, transfer to me. Perhaps I
could find a backdoor our intelligence people had snuck into the Allied
systems.
HAILING, Homer printed. Then: transferring link.
A new computer accessed my mind, crisp and cold: Identification.
Access my spinal node, I thought. Mod 16, path 0001HA9RS.
Accessed. Clearance verified.
My awareness of the room faded. I floated in a pearly sea,
my mind centered at one node of a glimmering mesh that spread out in all
directions. Flashes of light sparked on the web as other minds navigated across
it.
I was a quantum wavepacket now, a round “hill” surrounded by
circular ridges, like the waves made by dropping a rock in a pond. The ripples
extended out in the infinite “lake” of psiberspace, becoming smaller and
smaller the farther they were from the peak that was the center of my identity.
A spark of light flashed, resolving into another wavepacket.
It rippled right through me without a trace of interference.
Security check, I thought.
All lines secured, PS42 thought. You are undetectable to
users with clearance lower than Forty-seven: Level B.
Transfer me to IMIN.
The mound sank into the net. Then I was in a new section of
the grid, the center of my identity shifted to a small ripple. It swelled,
forming a hill, and the ripples around it shifted until they were rings
concentric with the new center for my identity.
The web here glittered like metal. Sharp clicks accompanied
the sparks that jumped into focus around me and then disappeared.
A mound appeared, growing into a cobalt mountain of polished
metal. It emanated cold. Imperial Intelligence A5a.mil. Unauthorized access of
this node is punishable by execution.
Clearance in M-16, D-30A5a, F-037, I answered.
Clearance verified. State purpose.
To use Comtrace.
This time I shifted to a white net in a sea of painfully
bright light. Comtrace, access my optic nerve. Alter my perception display to
highlight my physical surroundings.
Comtrace’s response came into my mind like ice. Done.
My awareness of psiberspace faded until it was no more than
a translucent image overlaid on my view of the room. I saw Rex again, leaning
over me to look at the console. Helda stood next to him, waiting with her
massive arms crossed, and Taas was sitting on the bed glancing through the book
Tiller had given me at the police station. None of my interactions with the Net
showed on the screen: the printing had stopped with my last response to Homer.
Activate audio, I thought.
“Audio activated.” Although Comtrace spoke using the inn’s
computer, the icy cadence of its speech made a jarring contrast to Homer’s
friendly tones.
Taas looked up from the book. “Set up?”
I nodded. “I’m giving it my file on the Aristo.” Comtrace,
unload the data in M-86, D-4427, F-l.
Uploaded.
I’m going to detach the psiphons. Do not break the
military personnel and equipment dwarfed ours, but we could outmaneuver,
outcommunicate, and outcalculate them. They lumbered; we sailed.
The Aristos had no psiber abilities. Their providers did,
but they refused to acknowledge that providers could do anything but provide.
Still, I wouldn’t have been surprised if either they or the Allieds had tried
to build a Skol-Net and failed. It needed a Rhon telepath to power it and no
member of my family would ever consent to do that for them.
That was why my family still held so much power in an age of
modern politics. No machine could connect directly into the Net. The only way
to link in hardware was through the minds of its users. And just as one
computer needed a central processor, so the Skol-Net with its billions of nodes
needed a Rhon psion to maintain it as a coherent web. Only we had the immense
mental resources for that job. Without my family there was no Skol-Net and
without the Net there was no Skolian Imperialate.
Homer, try this, I thought. Hail node PS42.mil on the
Skol-Net. When you get the ‘Restricted’ message, transfer to me. Perhaps I
could find a backdoor our intelligence people had snuck into the Allied
systems.
HAILING, Homer printed. Then: transferring link.
A new computer accessed my mind, crisp and cold: Identification.
Access my spinal node, I thought. Mod 16, path 0001HA9RS.
Accessed. Clearance verified.
My awareness of the room faded. I floated in a pearly sea,
my mind centered at one node of a glimmering mesh that spread out in all
directions. Flashes of light sparked on the web as other minds navigated across
it.
I was a quantum wavepacket now, a round “hill” surrounded by
circular ridges, like the waves made by dropping a rock in a pond. The ripples
extended out in the infinite “lake” of psiberspace, becoming smaller and
smaller the farther they were from the peak that was the center of my identity.
A spark of light flashed, resolving into another wavepacket.
It rippled right through me without a trace of interference.
Security check, I thought.
All lines secured, PS42 thought. You are undetectable to
users with clearance lower than Forty-seven: Level B.
Transfer me to IMIN.
The mound sank into the net. Then I was in a new section of
the grid, the center of my identity shifted to a small ripple. It swelled,
forming a hill, and the ripples around it shifted until they were rings
concentric with the new center for my identity.
The web here glittered like metal. Sharp clicks accompanied
the sparks that jumped into focus around me and then disappeared.
A mound appeared, growing into a cobalt mountain of polished
metal. It emanated cold. Imperial Intelligence A5a.mil. Unauthorized access of
this node is punishable by execution.
Clearance in M-16, D-30A5a, F-037, I answered.
Clearance verified. State purpose.
To use Comtrace.
This time I shifted to a white net in a sea of painfully
bright light. Comtrace, access my optic nerve. Alter my perception display to
highlight my physical surroundings.
Comtrace’s response came into my mind like ice. Done.
My awareness of psiberspace faded until it was no more than
a translucent image overlaid on my view of the room. I saw Rex again, leaning
over me to look at the console. Helda stood next to him, waiting with her
massive arms crossed, and Taas was sitting on the bed glancing through the book
Tiller had given me at the police station. None of my interactions with the Net
showed on the screen: the printing had stopped with my last response to Homer.
Activate audio, I thought.
“Audio activated.” Although Comtrace spoke using the inn’s
computer, the icy cadence of its speech made a jarring contrast to Homer’s
friendly tones.
Taas looked up from the book. “Set up?”
I nodded. “I’m giving it my file on the Aristo.” Comtrace,
unload the data in M-86, D-4427, F-l.
Uploaded.
I’m going to detach the psiphons. Do not break the
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