Текст книги "Anvil of Stars"

Автор книги: Грег Бир

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The snake mothers had nothing to do with preparing the broth. Growing food was a particularly important ritual for the Brothers, and it was apparently an honor to be placed in charge of the broth vats.

This much the human crew was allowed to observe. Other aspects of Brotherly life were more circumspect. Because cords could die as individuals—it was normal, like shedding skin—reproduction continued after a fashion. Breeding cords were sequestered and their activities were hidden from the humans.

Three braids seemed to act as intellectual reserves for the entire group. These braids appeared slow, not particularly personable; they spoke no English, communicated not at all with humans, but occasionally disassembled, and some of their parts would be used for a time by other braids. Erin Eire called them Wisdom, Honor, and Charity; the names stuck, at least among the humans.

Stonemaker became familiar to all the humans; Shipmaker and Eye on Sky also mixed freely. Others came forward more gradually to interact with the humans. Within two days, twenty-three Brothers mingled regularly. Their English improved rapidly.

Within a tenday of the merger, rudimentary jokes could be exchanged. Brother humor was simple enough: sickly-sweet flower-smells marked a kind of laughter, brought on by simple stories whose punchline always involved involuntary disassembly. The Brothers particularly enjoyed stories or mimicry of humans passing gas or fainting.

With Hans' approval, Paola Birdsong appointed herself a special student of Brotherly language and behavior.

Giacomo and Jennifer volunteered to help coordinate human and Brother libraries, working with Eye on Sky and Shipmaker. Hans suggested they first translate and integrate what the libraries had to say about galactic history and battle strategy and tactics. Jennifer was disappointed by these practical priorities; she desperately wanted to explore Brother mathematics.

Martin observed, in his library visits, that the ship's mind was itself translating and correlating information.

Rosa Sequoia stayed in the background, watching everything intently, weighing and measuring the new situation.

The remnants of Martin's funk had passed like fog. For hours at a time he did not think of Theresa or William.

Hakim, Harpal, and Luis Estevez Saguaro joined forces with a Brother named Silken Parts, a large (five meters long) and dapper-looking braid whose cords were, indeed, somewhat silkier in texture than those of other Brothers. Together, they organized a combined search team in the nose.

Giacomo and Jennifer acted as search team advisors, but were now absorbed in their library work and theoretical activities.

Remotes were sent out and Leviathan came under close scrutiny.

After four days immersed in studying Leviathan, Hakim asked to speak with Martin, alone and in Martin's quarters.

They squatted beside each other and sipped strong sweet hot tea, Hakim's favorite.

Hakim was agitated. "I will speak of this with Hans soon," Hakim began, eyes downturned. "This is awkward, I know, but I do not know how he will react. I myself do not know how to react. I hope you can advise me."

"About what?" Martin asked.

"Silken Parts has gone to the Brothers now, and I understand they face similar difficulties. The information from the remotes is disturbing."

"How?" Martin asked.

"I am most embarrassed."

"Christ, Hakim—"

Hakim glanced at him sharply, disliking religious blasphemies of any sort.

"I'm sorry. Tell me."

"Our early information about Leviathan seems to have been completely in error. I don't know howit could have happened, but we have major discrepancies. Our new findings are different."

"How different?"

"Leviathan has fifteen planets, not ten, or even twelve."

"Fifteen?"

Hakim winced and shook his head. "The star itself has much the same characteristics—some not unexpected refinements in spectral measurements. Almost everything else seems to have changed."

"How wrong could we have been?"

"Not this wrong," Hakim said. "I am upset to think the ship's instruments could have misled us; even more upset to think we could have misinterpreted the facts so."

"Fifteen planets sounds awfully crowded."

"It is. I have referred the momerath to Jennifer and Giacomo. The orbital patterns as we see them are astonishing. We believe the system must be artificial, and artificially maintained—which would require great expenditures of energy."

"What else?"

"The system is rich with raw materials. Two of the planets, not four, are large gas giants, and they are not depleted. The fourth planet is a true enigma—about one hundred thousand kilometers in diameter, with a distinct and apparently solid surface, not a gas giant… but with a density comparable to the gas giants'."

"Hakim, I know you've checked this a dozen times—"

"We've made measurements more often than I can count, separately and together. The current information seems correct, Martin. I am mortified to possibly have been so in error before. "

"The Red Tree Runners were inside the system. They saw ten planets. Their charts didn't match with our views from a distance… and they certainly don't conform now…"

"We could be in different universes, the differences are so great."

"Right…" Martin screwed up his face in thought. "Hakim—"

"We were not wrong!" Hakim shouted, pounding the mat. He glanced at Martin expectantly.

"I don't think you were, either. The Brothers took Leviathan's measure. Have youcompared results?"

"They made measurements before our first efforts."

"And they saw…?"

"From what Paola and Jennifer have translated, and what Stonemaker tells us—so difficult to interpret! They do not use numbers as we do—they saw a system of we think ten planets, with four gas giants."

"Then they got a picture similar to what the Red Tree Runners saw. The Brothers didn't pick up signs of civilization?"

Hakim shook his head. "Nor did they notice any reaction to Wormwood's destruction. From what we see even now, there is no sign of armoring, or any other preparation."

Martin felt at once a kind of dread and excitement, a chill of surprise and something he could hardly quantify. This is no simple chase now, no sitting duck. We're close!

"Leviathan is camouflaged," Martin said.

"I was hoping you would agree!" Hakim cried out, clapping Martin on the shoulder.

Martin could have laughed at Hakim's relief and joy, but he did not.

"We were not measuring improperly! The death ship saw what it saw! The Brothers did not measure improperly!"

"But how do you mask an entire star system?"

"Only planets," Hakim said.

"Are they ghost planets?"

"Perhaps," Hakim said, raising a finger. "One of these versions may be correct, but which?"

"The deception is not infinitely varied… and it changes across fairly short intervals, on the order of years."

"Yes!" Hakim said, face flushed with excitement. "The bastard Killers fool nobody!"

Martin touched finger to nose. "It's obvious some massive planetary engineering has been done… You'd think the closer an observer was, the more they'd want the system to look empty,"

"With your support, I will take this to Hans," Hakim said, rising from the cushion. "He cannot become angry if you back us."

Martin stood. "Are you afraid of him?" he asked.

Hakim looked away, embarrassed. "I do not trust him as much as I trust you. Do you approve of him, Martin?"

"It isn't my job to criticize the Pan."

"I have felt badly about some of his actions, the way we have become. The games, with sexual partners as rewards. Martin, I have kept very quiet until now, but that was wrong."

"Well, it's stopped. We start training with the Brothers soon."

"You are not worried about what might happen?"

"Of course I'm worried."

"But not worried about Hans."

"Hakim, I know how difficult it is to be Pan. When I was Pan, people died. Hans was elected. That's that."

Hakim regarded him sadly, then arranged his overalls with smoothing gestures of palms down chest and legs. "I will go to Hans now. I hope he will be as understanding as you."

"He's no dummy," Martin said.

"He will not chastise us," Hakim said. "He will see, as well, that these are not our errors."

"I'm sure he will," Martin said. When Hakim had left, Martin rubbed his eyes vigorously with his knuckles, then looked up and around his quarters, as if seeing them for the first time; ribbons of light, bare brown and silver-gray surfaces, the single cushion large enough for two; why had he asked for it to be large enough for two?

He was not due anywhere for an hour. There would be a meeting of past Pans with Hans and Rex and two of Stonemaker's planners; they would begin to design drills, coordinate strategies.

Brothers and humans could and would work together.

Martin reached for his wand and idly tuned to the translated

territories of the Brother libraries. Vast regions were still incomprehensible. The human wands did not supply scent; he could not interpret half of what might be stored. Even the best translations would never be ideal. As Hakim had discovered, even so simple a thing as numbers was subject to ambiguity. He wondered how the Brothers counted…

Perhaps counting was not important to them.

Perhaps they were better equipped to deal with Leviathan's changing nature than humans.

He searched for Theodore's texts in his wand, found them still intact after the disasters and merger. Randomly he leafed through the projected pages, hoping for some small insight or guidance.

Never underestimate the power of circumstance to grind your very bones, Theodore had written in the first three months of their journey. Never underestimate the perverse power of everything to go wrong, to tend toward trouble. Always the problems seem to come from within; I judge myself to be at fault, for not anticipating the unforeseeable, not knowing the way a chaotic function will collapse.

And elsewhere,

What I have lost does not make me greater, but it makes me deeper, like a hole. Take more away and I will come through to the other side, like a gaping wound. But then I will be the wound and the body will have sloughed away. Is it possible to lose more of what is not there?

Very adolescent, with the insight of resilient youth and none of the reserved silence of the experienced adult. If he had written these things, Martin might have felt a little embarrassed. But then he had always felt that way about Theodore's writings: strongly attracted to them, even admiring, but always discomfited by them. They explored territories, emotions, and ideas Martin was not comfortable with.

Theodore had been so open. It was what killed him.

He turned off the projected pages, lay back on the cushion and asked for the lights to dim. Soon there would be much less time for sleep.

* * *

"How in hell can anyone disguise an entire star system?" Hans asked. His hair stuck out in blond spikes; clearly, he had not slept much recently. Ex-Pans, Silken Parts, and Stonemaker's representatives, Eye on Sky and Shipmaker, gathered in the nose with the joint search team. The starfield expanded beyond, Leviathan bright and steady to one side, still too far away for planets to be visible to their naked eyes.

Silken Parts rustled; every few minutes, the braids would tremble, as if their cords needed to scratch some itch difficult to locate. Luis Estevez Saguaro had prepared a chart comparing the four views they had of the system—the view found in the records of the dead ship, the Dawn Treader'sview from just beyond Wormwood, the view obtained by the Brothers, and the present view. Hans regarded it dourly, chin in hand.

"How much energy would it take to broadcast such a disguise?" he asked.

Hakim calculated quietly. "Half the energy produced by the star itself, in one estimate," he said.

Silken Parts softly disagreed. With violin speech and a somewhat musty odor, he said, "We cannot assume the disguise is broadcast in all directions—"

"Wait," Hans interrupted, raising one hand. Silken Parts drew back, rustled again. Martin doubted that the Brother felt affronted, but he wished Hans could be less imperious. "You think something's being broadcast. What—an image of the system, altered somehow?"

Hakim cleared his throat. "Jennifer and Giacomo—"

"Spare me more goddamned momerath," Hans said. "I need something concrete."

"Please have patience," Hakim said, looking to one side, face darkening.

Hans lifted a hand, flicked a finger: go on.

"Jennifer and Giacomo have taken time from the work in the combined libraries. Jennifer believes that several regions of space may have had their ray tracing, their radiation-transit bit structures, interfered with. Photons could seem to appear out of nothing. These regions, each perhaps as wide as the star system itself, but having no depth—located perhaps at the periphery of the system—would act like giant projectors, revealing convincing full-spectrum images of… a nonexistent system."

Hans poked his finger into a projected image of the fifteen-planet system. "Like this one, but a lot bigger. You mean, if we were to enter, we'd pass through the deception, see what was really there?"

"Not at all," Hakim said. "It would be possible to shift these ray-altered regions to continue to deceive. I admit, it would be a massive undertaking, but not nearly so great as wrapping the entire solar system in a sphere of deception."

Silken Parts said, "Our ideas cross difficult. Please project."

Hakim quickly sketched in diagrams showing their positions, regions of ray-alteration shaped like shields, camouflaged or deceptive images perceived from great distances.

"Very powerful," Silken Parts said. "Could change field of battle. Great blindness and confusion." He explained to Eye on Sky and Shipmaker.

"Scary stuff," Hans said. "Any way we can penetrate it?"

"If it is constant, no," Hakim said. "But if the images are maintained only at certain intervals, we may receive a correct image with constant vigilance."

"But we wouldn't necessarily know which was correct."

Hakim shook his head, eyes downcast.

"So what do we plan for?" Hans asked.

"Stonemaker should be in on any planning," Harpal said. Martin agreed.

"Right. But what I'm asking is, how can we make plans, when we can't know what to expect, what is real and what is not?"

"Possibly nothing is there at all," Silken Parts said.

Hans' eyes seemed to glaze over. He put his hands behind his neck, shook his head slowly, said, "I haven't the slickest notion what we can do, but we need a war conference."

As they prepared to leave, Paola Birdsong arrived with a string of ten braids, all eager to see the unobscured stars. She smiled at Martin as they passed, happy with her new occupation. "They feel better if they can see the stars once or twice a tenday," she said.

The braids rustled like leaves poured from a bag.

* * *

Martin learned from Silken Parts that Stonemaker would not be available for four days. Hearing the search team's latest information had caused quite a stir among the Brothers, and Makers of Agreement had been called for.

Donating two cords apiece, the Brothers had created three large new individuals, the Makers of Agreement. They served one function only: to look over the present situation and render fresh judgment, unclouded by whatever prejudices the former braids might have had.

Hans received this news from Martin and Eye on Sky with intense vexation. He conferred with Rex for a few moments in one corner of the schoolroom, then returned and said, "All right. We'll hold a conference with the Makers of Agreement. Is that okay with you?"

Eye on Sky smelled of cabbage and old tobacco smoke, showing intense cogitation, and replied, "It will be adequate."

"Maybe they'll give us a fresh perspective as well," Hans said. Martin watched from one side, arms folded behind his back.

The discussion took place in the Brothers' territory. It was dark in the corridors there; the air smelled moist and electric, like a storm. Sometimes Martin caught a tang of beach, salt and organic decay. Eye on Sky led Hans, Rex, Paola, Martin, Harpal, Cham, and Joe to a small, close chamber. Martin had requested that Paola join them, since she was most expert at Brother speech.

The walls were coated with dripping oil. On the floor of the chamber, three braids lay, undulating slowly to a steady wind of intensely organic, fishy smells and the sound of waves breaking on a shore.

The braids rose and coiled like cobras as the humans entered. Martin could not recognize any of them; all patterns had been rearranged. They did not even smell familiar. In the past few tendays, Martin had learned to pick up a few of the subtle odors of individual braids, even giving some of them code names: Teacake, Almond Breath, Kimchee, Vinegar.

Eye on Sky, the best of the Brothers at speaking English, would act as translator for the temporary braids. "Makers of Agreement will seem disoriented for a time, but when the braids return cords to all, we they all will remember discussions."

"Not ideal," Hans commented dryly. "Still, we're coming into Leviathan in the next three months. We need to begin strategic planning. War councils. Understood?"

Eye on Sky translated, with Paola's help. While Paola could not make Brother sounds, she had modified her wand to provide a basic vocabulary.

Hans wrinkled his nose at the effusion of smells. "I've been studying your conflict. We all have, I assume."

"Conflict?" Eye on Sky asked.

"Your battle. When your ship was severely damaged."

"Yes," the braid said. "We might translate it more as the Sadness."

"You entered a stellar system ten light years from here, to take on what you assumed was a world colonized by Killers… And in fact, you were probably correct. You made an effort to be certain your judgment was correct. That took a year and a half, our time… An extraordinary effort. During that time, you were detected, but you maneuvered through the defenses, sterilized the surface of the planet, then encountered a squadron of killer probes fleeing from the destruction. You were subjected to a bombardment of neutronium weapons; you survived with high casualties and severe damage to your ship."

He paused. Eye on Sky added nothing to this summary.

"You accelerated out of the system, and with your available resources, looking back, you saw what might have been the surviving killer probes returning to the planet."

"Yesss…" said Eye on Sky, with the peculiar musical upturn in its voice. "Mostly correct."

"Anything incorrect?" Hans asked, eyebrow raised.

"Mostly correct."

"All right," Hans said, shoulders slumping, hunching his upper body over where he sat. He lifted his wand and projected some crude colored sketches of the Brothers' battle. "It seems obvious to me that you faced a decoy world, much as we did around Wormwood. It may have been a less sophisticated decoy—it was farther away from Leviathan—but that in itself could be important. We both got our asses wiped. Pardon me—"

"The analogy, for we us, is cords were skinned," Eye on Sky said. "I we understand." A steady progression of violin sounds, chirps, and smells wafted from Eye on Sky to the three temporary braids.

Hans smiled. "And after you were done, it seemed likely the killer probes would repair the decoy, start all over."

"Yes," Eye on Sky said.

"So in effect, your sacrifice was for nothing."

"Yes," Eye on Sky said.

"We're all pretty awful at anticipating what the Killers can do. But then, so are the moms—your snake mothers, too, I assume. The closer we get to Leviathan, the more sophisticated the traps, until Wormwood itself seemed to actually be the target. I think we can assume Leviathan is the real center of interest. And the deceptions and defenses are going to be extraordinary. Am I right?"

The three braids stirred as Eye on Sky conveyed this to them.

"There is general agreement we our survival not good chances," Eye on Sky said.

"But we have an advantage," Hans said.

"Combined resources and knowledge," Eye on Sky translated for the largest braid.

Martin added, "And the chance to compare notes and pool our minds. The Killers don't know that we intercepted the Red Tree Runners' ship. They don't know that we've combined forces with you."

"Right," Hans said. "Some of our best brains are working with some of yours, and we're getting along just fine. Now it's time to make serious plans."

The three braids moved closer together, heads almost touching. Smells of bananas and musty wine.

"I'd like our weapons crews to join with yours. I'd like the moms and snake mothers to make ships we can fly together."

Martin felt a sudden and unexpected renewal of respect for Hans.

"We're in this together," Hans said, rubbing his face with his palms and wiping them on his overalls as if they were greasy. He looked at Cham and Martin, smiled, turned back to the braids. "We're family. Am I right?"

"It is a good time for this," Eye on Sky translated.

"We're going to need a joint planning team," Hans said. "Myself, Rex, Harpal, Martin, will be on it from our side. As soon as possible, we'll need to know which braids will represent your side."

"Agreed," Eye on Sky said. "Makers of Agreement look sharply at we our crew, and choose, and then reassemble normal in two days your time. Stonemaker will announce to yours."

"Perfect," Hans said. He clasped his hands, bowed to Eye on Sky and the Makers, gathered up his party, and prepared to leave the Brothers' territory. The largest temporary braid suddenly screeched shrilly and all turned to look at him.

"I we sees water clear, air clear," he said, voice like a child's recorded on a bad tape machine.

Hans nodded, waiting for more.

"This is the one," the large temporary continued. "As you sound words, this is the one. Fine all if we we die for this."

"Right," Hans said.

"I we believes this one means—" Eye on Sky began.

"I understand him perfectly," Hans said, raising his thumb. "We are in accord. Am I right?"

The humans nodded. In the corridor, once in human territory and away from any Brothers, Hans murmured, "God damn, I love the way they talk. If we could only speak their lingo-smello half so well-o!"

Martin felt unexpected tears begin in his eyes. Hans was still capable, still a leader; his decisions and ideas were strong and forward.

The moms and snake mothers took the joint weapons team into the weapons store and showed them three modified craft. Each could carry a braid and a human in separated compartments; this, they explained, in case one was injured or suffered problems that might interfere with the other.

Meeting after meeting, planning session upon session, ruminations between Brothers and humans, preparations for joint drills, yet despite their best efforts, never a sense of resolution, of full understanding. If this was what the defenders of Leviathan had hoped for, they had achieved it in spades: a deep sense of unease, far worse than when Dawn Treaderhad descended toward Wormwood.

Leviathan hung three and a half light months distant, a steady image of fifteen worlds.

In the nearly empty schoolroom, Silken Parts coiled near the star sphere and spread three grasping cords from below the tip of its trunk, each grasping a human wand. The first three pairs of claws along each cord curled around the wands with impressive dexterity. Images flew through the air for the benefit of Stone-maker and Eye on Sky, faster than Martin could intercept; the Brothers had the advantage of multiple sensory systems, each capable of absorbing and holding for braid assimilation. The Brothers' briefing took less than a minute. Silken Parts than transferred all three wands to one cord and handed them to Hakim, Luis, and Jennifer.

"Thank you," Silken Parts said, leaning forward to the human observers: his comrades on the joint search team, and Hans, Harpal, Rex, Cham, and Martin.

Hakim sighed in admiration. "It is frustrating to be human," he said to Silken Parts and Stonemaker. Stonemaker made a sound like water over gravel and emitted a sickly-sweet flower scent, olfactory and auditory laughter, which Martin suspected was more politeness than true humor.

"I will present the results now for humans," Hakim said, lifting one wand. "Slower, but with no more joy. We have spread our remotes to their farthest position, as agreed to by Hans and Stonemaker, and we have seen the Leviathan system with much greater detail.

"Civilization is apparent. It is very, very busy. There is continuous commerce between the fifteen worlds, especially in the vicinity of the fourth planet. If this is a false projection or deception, it is a masterpiece.

"Every planet is occupied. The density of activity on each planet is marvelous, even from what we can see at this distance. Commerce between the worlds flows unceasingly, and it appears to be conducted by a variety of beings. At least, that is my intuition, and it is shared by Silken Parts." Hakim projected images of five of the planets, arrayed around his head like balls frozen in a juggling act.

"We are using numbers and Greek designators for each body," Hakim continued. "The first planet outward from Leviathan is a rocky world. Yet as you see, it is very fuzzy. We believe the fuzz is a heavy layer of tethered stations suspended in orbit. We are seeing this planet from an angle of sixty degrees, and the fuzziness increases on this, the southern, limb of the planet, which indicates to me much activity around the equatorial plane, perhaps out to synchronous orbit. The planet is heavily modified, but must at one time have been comparable to Venus in size and composition."

"I assume there will be more news on these tethers or whatever as our parallax changes," Hans said.

"Yes indeed. In fact, I will have a ninety-degree shifted view within a tenday, because of our speed, because of its precession—it has a natural polar angle of thirty degrees with relation to the ecliptic—and because of parallax change."

"Do you think they're defenses?"

"They do not appear to be defenses. If they are tethers, they may be extended surface habitats—hanging buildings. How such a network of tethered structures could be maintained in orbit presents an awesome challenge."

"Sounds like a bustling metropolis," Harpal commented. "Why do you think there's more than one intelligent species there?"

"Actually, we posit nothing of the sort—only that there are varieties of intelligent forms. For a civilization at this stage of development, the moms tell us speciation is not a useful concept. Biological forms, if any, may be entirely artificial and arbitrary."

Hakim sipped from a bulb of water and continued. "The second planet is very different from the first. It possesses no fuzziness and perhaps few if any tethered structures, yet has a dense atmosphere of carbon dioxide and nitrogen, high in water vapor, maintained at a steady planet-wide temperature of eighty-five degrees centigrade."

"Why?" Hans asked, frowning.

"To provide a different habitat, perhaps," Luis suggested.

"The planets are quite different, as if designed for some particular environment or function. To highlight the most interesting, the fourth is not a rocky world, nor a gas giant, but we do not know what it actually is. I once thought it might be a brown dwarf, but that makes no sense now. It has an enormous surface area covered by what appears to be a thin atmosphere of carbon dioxide and oxygen and argon, and an actual solid surface—a lithosphere, which would have to be artificially stabilized. The lithosphere may float on a fluid core, but the surface temperature is remarkably warm, twelve degrees centigrade, which would point to internal heating."

"All right," Hans said. "Why do they have lots of different environments?"

Silken Parts rustled his cords before speaking. "In we our records, we we see and smell of many species developing intelligence in a local area, and creating great communities. They are not common. They exist, but."

"It's all deception," Hans murmured. "Why worry about it?"

"If it is not deception…" Hakim said, lifting his hands.

Hans laughed. "We've faced nothing butdeception from the Killers from the very beginning. This is perfect—something to make us hesitate, lose confidence. It's just goddamned perfect."

Stonemaker rustled now, then coiled and uncoiled. A single cord disengaged from his tail and crawled out the door. Eye on Sky retrieved and bagged it; it squeaked plaintively. "I we beg pardon," Stonemaker said. An odor of something akin to embarrassment—fresh salt air with seaweed. Minor spontaneous disengagement was not uncommon for the Brothers, but discomfiting if noticed.

"Think nothing of it," Hans said. "I detect a conspiracy here. Not just Hakim… does somebody else think this isn't a blind?"

Stonemaker rustled again. Clearly, something irritated the Brother. "The ship must be cautious, or I we is a Killer attitude."

Hans knit his brows.

"We must not rush into blind judgment," Hakim said.

Hans looked around the schoolroom, flabbergasted. "We're seriously thinking the Killers aren't here after all? This is what's really here—a zoo of cultures, cooperating and prosperous, waiting for us to just drop in and visit?"

"The deception is incredibly dense," Hakim said.

"We know of no such deception succeeding over vast periods of time," Silken Parts said.

Hans' face reddened. Rex started to say something, but Hans cut him off with a raised hand. "So we should vote again… pass judgment again."

"Yes," Stonemaker said. "All our crews."

"I'm for that," Hans said, stretching cat-like. "Anything to build consensus. When?"

"After much more seeing," Silken Parts suggested. "Much more research."

"We have time," Hans said. "Meanwhile, we should begin drills and exercises. I'd like Martin, Paola Birdsong, Ariel, Giacomo, and… Martin, you choose three others. I'd like all of you to go through the libraries and find whatever precedent there is. Make a case. You'll be defense. Hakim, you take Jennifer, Harpal, Cham, and three others, and prepare a case for prosecution. Stonemaker, I'm not yet familiar with the way your legal system works, but I think something similar should be done by the Brothers. Then we'll bring the entire crew together, humans and Brothers, and judge."