to that point, Magister," said Rhoda, "would you ask Captain Edge to bring us the package I turned over to her staff?"
Zude moved to her desk and tapped a message into one of the consoles there. She resumed her seat. "Jing-Cha?"Longleaf recited. "Amah Densmore had just said, 'They want a final ridding of violence, Magister, and to them the solution is the use of neurological inhibitors on any man corrected to person convicted of a violent act.'"
"Thank you. I wish to respond."
Rhoda nodded.
Zude pressed the edge of the table, activating a large screen in the cushioned wall by Longleaf. From what looked like a dense graphic, she isolated and magnified a statistical report. "There it is, Kanshoumates. We now have on Little Blue 780 bailiwicks, colonies which confine within their boundaries habitantes found guilty of violent acts." She filled the screen with the three tri-satrapies in sequenced carto-sections, highlighted to demonstrate the bailiwicks' locations. "That figure includes central cities, like this one, where the colonies are characteristically surrounded by free citizens."
She shifted the screen to the tables again and scrolled to comparative calculations. "Each bailiwick holds an average of 1,282 habitantes, some as few as 500 and some as many as 4,000. As you indicated, the habitantes are in large majority men, even when we count the people, in large majority women, who choose to live there with convicted habitantes.
"All told, we're looking at about a million habitantes and approximately 120,000 people who choose to live near them in bailiwicks, from Thule to the Falklands, from Ouagadougou to Fiji." She paqued the screen and leaned back in her chair. "Let's assume the highly unlikely possibility that a violence center is discovered in the human brain." She extinguished her cigarillo. "One million people. If I understand you, you're suggesting that all of them, at least those convicted, should, against their will, be subjected to the surgical procedures that are supposed to render them docile and law-abiding."
Rhoda hesitated, wondering, in spite of the true-talk, what trap might lie ahead. "Yes. Perhaps with the promise of freedom or a reduced sentence if they have the surgery. It would not be against their will, Magister. They would have a choice."
Zude looked toward the entrance wall. Captain Edge appeared, deposited a small package in front of Zude and disappeared.
"A choice, you say," Zude repeated. "A choice of what? Surgery or death?"
Rhoda did not answer.
"And how many do you imagine would choose to be so altered?" Zude persisted.
"Magister, when the benefits to society are understood, I suspect most of those convicted would choose to be relieved of their drive to destroy or injure."
Zude grunted. "If they were choosing it over death, maybe. But maybe not. Maybe even the freedom to die unaltered, un-invaded, to die as one's own self, is more precious than living as a citizen, harmless and docile." Zude rose to her feet, pacing again. "And consider the consequences of such research for future generations, in the issue of Infancy Protocols. Suppose through the widest stretch of the imagination that we could to determine which infants might 'carry' the violence center and which not. Then we impose on newbornsa neurological requirement that vastly alters their lives--"
Rhoda interposed, "Like the transfusion of healthy blood for diseased blood, Magister? Like endocrine transplants? Like in-uteroorgan rehabilitation, gene substitution, lymph regeneration, all the techniques--"
"Major!" Zude snapped. "What the pluperfect hell do you think the biotech riots were about? About control of epidemics, yes, but far more than that! What kind of history are they filling you with at the Hong Kong Academy these days that you don't know about the cyborg disasters and the genetic engineering fiascos? You--"
Longleaf stood. She moved to
Zude moved to her desk and tapped a message into one of the consoles there. She resumed her seat. "Jing-Cha?"Longleaf recited. "Amah Densmore had just said, 'They want a final ridding of violence, Magister, and to them the solution is the use of neurological inhibitors on any man corrected to person convicted of a violent act.'"
"Thank you. I wish to respond."
Rhoda nodded.
Zude pressed the edge of the table, activating a large screen in the cushioned wall by Longleaf. From what looked like a dense graphic, she isolated and magnified a statistical report. "There it is, Kanshoumates. We now have on Little Blue 780 bailiwicks, colonies which confine within their boundaries habitantes found guilty of violent acts." She filled the screen with the three tri-satrapies in sequenced carto-sections, highlighted to demonstrate the bailiwicks' locations. "That figure includes central cities, like this one, where the colonies are characteristically surrounded by free citizens."
She shifted the screen to the tables again and scrolled to comparative calculations. "Each bailiwick holds an average of 1,282 habitantes, some as few as 500 and some as many as 4,000. As you indicated, the habitantes are in large majority men, even when we count the people, in large majority women, who choose to live there with convicted habitantes.
"All told, we're looking at about a million habitantes and approximately 120,000 people who choose to live near them in bailiwicks, from Thule to the Falklands, from Ouagadougou to Fiji." She paqued the screen and leaned back in her chair. "Let's assume the highly unlikely possibility that a violence center is discovered in the human brain." She extinguished her cigarillo. "One million people. If I understand you, you're suggesting that all of them, at least those convicted, should, against their will, be subjected to the surgical procedures that are supposed to render them docile and law-abiding."
Rhoda hesitated, wondering, in spite of the true-talk, what trap might lie ahead. "Yes. Perhaps with the promise of freedom or a reduced sentence if they have the surgery. It would not be against their will, Magister. They would have a choice."
Zude looked toward the entrance wall. Captain Edge appeared, deposited a small package in front of Zude and disappeared.
"A choice, you say," Zude repeated. "A choice of what? Surgery or death?"
Rhoda did not answer.
"And how many do you imagine would choose to be so altered?" Zude persisted.
"Magister, when the benefits to society are understood, I suspect most of those convicted would choose to be relieved of their drive to destroy or injure."
Zude grunted. "If they were choosing it over death, maybe. But maybe not. Maybe even the freedom to die unaltered, un-invaded, to die as one's own self, is more precious than living as a citizen, harmless and docile." Zude rose to her feet, pacing again. "And consider the consequences of such research for future generations, in the issue of Infancy Protocols. Suppose through the widest stretch of the imagination that we could to determine which infants might 'carry' the violence center and which not. Then we impose on newbornsa neurological requirement that vastly alters their lives--"
Rhoda interposed, "Like the transfusion of healthy blood for diseased blood, Magister? Like endocrine transplants? Like in-uteroorgan rehabilitation, gene substitution, lymph regeneration, all the techniques--"
"Major!" Zude snapped. "What the pluperfect hell do you think the biotech riots were about? About control of epidemics, yes, but far more than that! What kind of history are they filling you with at the Hong Kong Academy these days that you don't know about the cyborg disasters and the genetic engineering fiascos? You--"
Longleaf stood. She moved to
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