Analog SF, Nov 2003 by Dell Magazine Authors

Author:Dell Magazine Authors [Authors, Dell Magazine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Magazine, 2012
Publisher: www.Fictionwise.com
Published: 2001-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

Settlers are genetically adjusted for every world. Part of this alteration is a tendency to abide by the authority of the Extrasolar Initiative and the many Orders of which it is composed. This is a tendency only. We do not seek to populate the stars with robots. Never underestimate the capacity of Free Will to surprise you.

—Starcaller's Way, Chapter 7

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Dressed in native garb, Sentience watched from beneath the feed store's awning, keeping the little man in sight while appearing to shop. He'd linked directly with Ship's biomind, risking exposure of his growing relationship with Ensa, to expedite data gathering with regard to the imposter's identity. It had taken all night, but success had come at last.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Stooping to conceal his height, Sentience turned to wave off the shopkeeper. “Just browsing. Thanks.”

The man eyed him suspiciously, but Sentience used nuances of body language and facial expression to blur his image. The shopkeeper quickly lost interest.

Sentience returned his gaze to the street to find the little man had gone.

[Ship?]

[Waiting...]

[I've lost visual. Which way did he go?]

Hovering unseen high in the sky above, Ship watched with its sensitive instruments. [One block north of your position. Moving slowly, turning now to the west.]

Sentience left the feed store, walked quickly along the sidewalk to the west, then turned north two blocks along so as to intersect the imposter's course. He'd contacted the Order via Dirac during his link with Ship, informed them of the situation, and asked for guidance.

Find out who he is, they had answered. Find out why he's doing this. Then report back to us for final instructions.

Final instructions. Sentience knew all too well what that meant. The imposter's actions threatened the delicate balance of this society's evolution. Against that, one life mattered nothing at all.

[Ship?] He'd reached the next intersection. The little man in the rust-colored cloak was nowhere to be seen.

[He's stopped again. Half a block east of you.]

Sentience moved that way, eyes scanning left to right, looking for...

There.

The little man sat at a table in front of a sidewalk café. Sentience watched from the distance. When he'd finished his meal, he paid for it.

So much for my theory, Sentience thought. If the privilege bestowed on a Caller motivated the imposter, he would hardly have paid for the meal.

[Ship? Have you got an identification yet?]

[Affirmative. Facial recognition 99 percent. Patgen Nender, forty-five years old, 5'6", 180 pounds. Profession: farmer.]

Sentience watched as the man left the café and strolled casually toward him. As they passed, Sentience probed him with his heightened senses. A defeated slump to the shoulders. A washed-out sadness in the eyes.

[Point of interest,] Ship continued. [Until his recent dismissal for absenteeism, Patgen Nender served as an acolyte of the Earth-heart.]

Sentience felt his pulse quicken. The post of acolyte was a great honor, on any world. Why would Nender turn his back on that? Why would he call himself Ambiance and pretend to be a Starcaller?

Sentience let him go. Ship would keep tabs on him, for now.

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