A King of Infinite Space by Allen Steele

Author:Allen Steele [Steele, Allen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Hard Science Fiction, Clarke County, AI, manned space, Mister Chicago, Fiction, Science Fiction, asteroid, moon, spaceship
ISBN: 9781604599190
Google: uYEURQAACAAJ
Amazon: B00FOF94CG
Publisher: Gray Rabbit Publications / Fantastic Books
Published: 2010-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PRIVATE REVOLUTION

Lost he, indeed, who’d freedom sell, And still believe esteem to hold.

—Jewish Seder song (traditional)

With John dead, everything changed, and not for the better. We may have disliked him, but I don’t think anyone actually hated him; we’d often ridiculed him and his milquetoast demeanor behind his back, but he had also earned a certain grudging respect. From the moment we had awakened in the White Room, John had been our friend, the one who had given us clothes to wear and taught us how to behave like adults, and none of us had forgotten that. Now he was gone, and it wasn’t long before we realized how much we needed him. Our associates were able to give us our daily assignments, but now that we didn’t have John acting as an intermediary between us and the Main Brain, there was no one we could turn to when there were problems that needed sorting out. Before last week, that might not have troubled us; we had our jobs, and they were virtually the same every day. But Mister Chicago had picked a fine time to kill his majordomo out of spite; now his servants had no one to coordinate the preparations for the New Year’s party. We had instructions from our associates, but no human guidance.

Although I only told Shemp, Russ, and Sam what had happened at the pool, the story of the circumstances surrounding John’s death spread quickly among the deadheads. Most of my fellow menials avoided contact with me for the next few days, and from time to time I caught hostile glares from some. Nor could I blame them; if I had not been so insolent, Mister Chicago wouldn’t have killed John, although it could be argued that murder is a rather extreme way of reasserting authority. I also think Mister Chicago was showing off before his jaded guests. What is ultimate power, after all, other than the ability to kill with the merest word, without fear of reprisal? It must be a wonderful temptation to simply say, “Die, please,” and watch someone fall down dead before your eyes. Godlike, in its own sinister way… but Mister Chicago seemed to enjoy playing God.

Yet it was difficult explaining this to anyone; even my closest friends became leery of being seen with me. Which was just as well; being left alone gave me more time to think, even while I served food, cleaned tables, mopped floors, and changed bedsheets. Whatever my escape plan was going to be, it had to be foolproof. There would only be one shot at this, because if I screwed up and was caught, there was little doubt in my mind that the next person of whom Mister Chicago requested a sudden and painful death would be me.

But I had a few ideas, and an ace up my sleeve.

#

Mister Chicago doesn’t leave his servants leaderless for very long. The afternoon of the second day after John’s death, I’m on hands and knees

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