Clips from The Well-Mannered War
Excerpts from The Well-Mannered War
'Liris?' Harmock brightened a little. 'Send her in.'
Galatea touched the amulet and the office's hemispherical door slid smoothly up with a gentle purr of machinery. Liris walked in. She moved with the precision and smoothness of all Femdroids, although to signify her researcher's role her makers had imbued her with a slightly stumbling, bookish quality. She was substantially shorter and less glamorous than her fellows. Her hair was cut close to her head in a bob, and she wore a pair of wire-framed spectacles behind which brown eyes blinked owlishly. Her tunic was a dark, tweedy brown colour, and she wore her control amulet at an angle that suggested a certain amount of absent-mindedness. Harmock liked her nervous, bumbling qualities, programmed though they were. She made him feel less inferior than the other Femdroids did. 'Good afternoon,' she said brightly. 'Premier, I bring suggestions for the campaign.' She held up a notescreen.
'Good, good.' He sat forward in his chair. 'Let's hear them, then.'
She pointed the hand-held unit to his desk screen and pressed transmit. Harmock sat back and watched avidly as a bewildering blur of images replaced the Phibbs Report. He saw Rabley's entire career compressed into a few seconds. Rallies, extremist meetings, his youth as a long- haired dissenter, his membership of the Rebel Labourers' Party. All of this was set to a threatening, rumbling piece of music. And then six words appeared, one after the other, outlined in throbbing red, each one accompanied by a thunderclap. DO YOU TRUST THIS EVIL MAN?
'Excellent, Liris,' said Harmock, rubbing his hands together. 'It says absolutely nothing about me or my policies. You've done very well. Have it released immediately, marked for prime scheduling across all channels of public broadcast.'
'Thank you, sir,' said Liris, tapping out the instruction on her pad.
'And I want a poll reaction a.s.a.p.' Harmock swung round in his chair to survey the world beyond the Dome. He watched as another skytrain flew past. The stupid faces of the passengers, craning their necks for a view of his office, amused him. Their minds were his, their fears easy to control, their future was surely in his hands.
Galatea spoke. 'Liris, how far has your team got with the Phibbs Report?'
As always, Liris seemed a little afraid of her senior. 'We have searched it for meaning and extracted a rough digest of points favourable to the Premier. This will be released to public broadcast as soon as Mr Rabley returns from Barclow. The news of the report's findings will eclipse Rabley's return and push him down the news schedule.' She gave a petite smile.
'Superb work,' said Harmock. 'What we need right now is a big push from everyone. We play down the report, wait as long as possible - give it another couple of weeks and call the election. We'll say that we'll act on the report afterwards and set out a strategy. Promise a return to hostilities. Rabley loses impetus, we pick it up, we win, and we engineer something or other to keep the Barclow situation the same as it ever was.' He smirked up at Galatea. 'How about that?'
'An admirable strategy.' Another chime sounded from her amulet. She exchanged a worried glance with Liris.
Liris put a hand to her mouth in a curiously natural gesture. 'Oh dear. This throws everything into confusion.' Her voice faltered. 'What are we to do?'
Harmock resented the way in which they could pick up information instantaneously. 'What's happened? What's the matter?'
For answer, Galatea used her finger to switch the screen to MNN. A Femdroid newscaster had assumed a concerned frown. 'We have just heard that a Chelonian plasma missile attack has taken place on Barclow,' she said. 'Details are still coming in, and it is unknown if there have been any fatalities.'
For the second time in a day Harmock bolted from his chair. 'A missile attack?' He spluttered. 'How the hell does MNN know about it before we do?' He slammed his fist down on the desk. 'Get me Dolne, right away.'
Galatea paused, her fingertips resting on her amulet, absorbing information. 'MNN are requesting your reaction, Premier.'
'Damn them. Get me Dolne!'
Galatea's eyes closed and she gave a tiny wince. 'Premier, the reaction of the electorate is very strong. Many of them are calling in already to demand reprisals.'
'Quick off the mark, aren't they?' Harmock thought. 'This throws our strategy out of the window. We can't hold on, can we?'
It was Liris who answered. 'Delaying the election in the face of this development would be seen as weak-minded. However, to react immediately by setting a date would increase your personal popularity rating.'
Harmock smiled again. 'Brilliant.' He felt his blood rising. Today was turning out quite interesting, with these shocks and countershocks. 'We'll do it. Say, the day after tomorrow. Catch the mood.'
Liris nodded and touched her amulet, sending out the statement.
~*~*~
At present it was occupied by Galatea, who stood facing a large screen that covered an entire wall, her hands on her hips, a satisfied smile playing about her sensuous lips. The faces of Harmock and K9, relayed on MNN, filled the screen. 'Most satisfactory,' she said. In this room she was markedly less officious in manner than she was outside. 'K9 is superior to Rabley in all respects. The scenario's effectiveness is all but guaranteed.'
Liris was at her side. 'We must greet him and his mistress.' She touched her amulet and with a blue static fizz the image altered, taking in a view of the sparse reception lounge from above. 'I see Stokes is with them.'
Galatea inclined her head. 'So he is.'
Liris bit her lip, wondering how to express herself. Galatea had a way of making her feel stupid. 'Should we impound him?'
'No. His retraining is solid.'
'If he strays?'
Galatea turned and smiled reassuringly. 'Do not worry, Liris. We can retrieve him, any time we wish.' She reached out and laid a hand on Liris's shoulder. 'You are uneasy.'
Liris suppressed a shudder. 'The arrival of more offworlders at this point is -' she lowered her voice instinctively '- strange.'
Galatea turned away. 'Do not concern yourself. It is not for you to worry.'
'Of course not.' Liris regarded her thoughtfully. It was part of her own programming to speculate and draw conclusions, a facility that was beyond the reach of the mass of Femdroids. That facility was speculating now, wondering if Galatea had somehow expected these strangers.
~*~*~
Harmock was looking out over the city. The giant floodlights had been switched on, criss-crossing the night sky with bright yellow beams, illuminating the emptying walkways. Work was over for them, he thought ruefully.
But he could not rest. The following hours were crucial.
After the unscheduled debate with the dog, Harmock was making sure he would not be caught unprepared again, and was going through a number of stock responses with Liris. She had worked out what questions MNN were most likely to ask, and was grooming his replies.
'... and there will be no quarter given,' he was saying, 'in this, our most difficult hour. No, "our" and "hour", sounds wrong, damn.'
'Our hour of greatest difficulty?' Liris suggested.
'Don't like "our hour" at all. Sounds odd.' He paced around his desk. 'And "difficult" isn't dramatic enough.
How about "The darkest hour in all this planet's days"?' Liris considered. ' "Days" is literal, "hour" figurative.'
'You're right. Then, "On this, perhaps the darkest day in our history". No, too negative. We must give people the sense that at least something is better than it's ever been.'
~*~*~
Harmock floundered. 'It's... because it's...' He appealed to Liris. She would know why.
'All outward export flights are governed by strict laws on weight restriction,' she said.
Stokes fumed. 'I weigh less than one cargo crate. It's a piddling thing. Harmock!'
'You heard the lady. It's just not possible.'
'Do you do everything she tells you?' Stokes threw up his hands. 'When's the next passenger flight?'
Liris answered. 'For which bookings remain? Two months.'
'Pathetic,' said Stokes. He was flushing red. 'How am I supposed to wait two months? Don't you see? The Chelonians are going to pulverize your precious Admiral Dolne and his chums and then come for us. They won't give a flying grub for treaties or negotiations. They've been hoarding their arsenal up there for over a hundred years. You know their history. They'll raze this place, burn us all out, and claim it as their own.'
'That won't happen,' Harmock said confidently. 'We are going to win this war.'
Stokes gave a humourless laugh. 'There is more chance of me growing wings and flying twice around the moon.' Then, at last, he turned and stormed out.
A strange thought appeared in Harmock's head, put there by Stokes's ranting. 'Liris,' he asked, 'if the war does get going, we are going to win it, aren't we?'
She faced him. 'Yes.'
'Good,' said Harmock.
The strange thought disappeared.
~*~*~
Stokes was dragged into the Conditioning Annexe by Liris, whose hydraulic muscles moved his sixteen-stone bulk with as much ease as they would have lifted a sheet of paper. The Annexe was just off the observation room, and consisted of only three objects: the folding chair on which the subject was placed, the control panel and the Conditioner itself, a large, gunlike apparatus that could be swung out and across on brackets to match the subject's eyeline.
'It's a beautiful place.' Stokes was murmuring as she rolled him over on to the chair. 'Beautiful...'
With the ease of experience Galatea adjusted the chair and brought the Conditioner's angle to bear directly on Stokes's forehead. Then she turned and said briskly, 'Liris, increase lobe stimulation to level five.'
Liris had just activated the machinery, and the order came as a shock. 'Level five? It could cause a brainstorn. Mental burn-out. Even in a hypno-state that level of conditioning could cause severe damage to the neuron flow. Particularly in such a wilful organic.'
'Timing is crucial,' said Galatea. 'He must be revived. We may need to call on his knowledge.'
Liris hesitated. 'He has already given us what we need.' Galatea pointed to the Conditioner. 'Do it!'
Liris could not disobey her. She reached out and turned the central knob on the control panel to the notch marked '5'. 'Very well.'
Galatea softened her tone. 'It is regrettable. But we must be prepared.' Liris saw her give a small shudder. 'The days ahead are crucial, Liris. This is the time of destiny.'
The Conditioner's pointed tip, suspended only inches from Stokes's head, began to pulse softly.
~*~*~
Urgent impulses flowed between the amulets worn by Galatea and Liris.
'There is no alternative,' said Galatea. 'Romana must be conditioned.'
'But hers is an alien mind. We cannot know the outcome.
There was a pause before Galatea's response came, crackling with authority. 'Why this persistent questioning of my decisions, Liris?'
'It is my function to question. Were it not, the decisions you make now would be altogether less momentous.'
'I do not revel in the import of my task. When the work is done I will be glad to return to more quotidian challenges. Bring Romana to the Conditioner.'
'Can she not be told the truth?'
'No, Liris. The organics must not know until it is done. They are nervous creatures by nature.' She said firmly, 'Decirculate her.'
~*~*~
Liris stood in the corridor outside, watching as the Killers sliced through the door of the Premier's study. She turned to Galatea. 'This was never part of the Creators' program, Galatea.' She could feel nausea welling inside her, a sure sign her purpose was being perverted. 'Is the scenario so important?'
'Nothing is more important,' said Galatea.
'Then what,' asked Liris, 'is this higher power to which you refer?'
'Keep to your place, Liris,' said Galatea. She smiled. 'Ah, the door is weakening.'
~*~*~
'Galatea!' Liris called out. Her knees buckled and with an odd grinding sound she keeled over. 'The master control!'
'It must be Stokes,' said Romana. 'I suppose everybody gets a turn at making themselves useful once in their life.'
K9 managed to croak, 'Negative, Mistress. There is danger. Reverse flux is gathering strength.' His casing starting to glow red hot. 'Please take cover.'
Romana felt Harmock dragging her away. 'K9, the must be some way to stop this!' she called. She could not bear the thought of seeing him explode before her eyes.
'My force... field... is strong...' K9 gasped. He was now not much more than a red steaming blur.
Liris's head hit the floor and she gasped, 'Galatea, the plan will come to nought.'
Galatea was still on her feet, her eyes turned upwards accusingly. 'It must succeed, Liris... I know it will... has been promised to me ...'
'We are dying, Galatea,' gasped Liris. 'The organics ... doomed without us ...' There was an odd, sparking noise from somewhere inside her and she fell still.
Galatea pulled herself over to the window and collapsed against the glass. 'I tried...' she whispered as the energy left her and her fingers slid down. 'I tried to save you...'
'Liris?' Harmock brightened a little. 'Send her in.'
Galatea touched the amulet and the office's hemispherical door slid smoothly up with a gentle purr of machinery. Liris walked in. She moved with the precision and smoothness of all Femdroids, although to signify her researcher's role her makers had imbued her with a slightly stumbling, bookish quality. She was substantially shorter and less glamorous than her fellows. Her hair was cut close to her head in a bob, and she wore a pair of wire-framed spectacles behind which brown eyes blinked owlishly. Her tunic was a dark, tweedy brown colour, and she wore her control amulet at an angle that suggested a certain amount of absent-mindedness. Harmock liked her nervous, bumbling qualities, programmed though they were. She made him feel less inferior than the other Femdroids did. 'Good afternoon,' she said brightly. 'Premier, I bring suggestions for the campaign.' She held up a notescreen.
'Good, good.' He sat forward in his chair. 'Let's hear them, then.'
She pointed the hand-held unit to his desk screen and pressed transmit. Harmock sat back and watched avidly as a bewildering blur of images replaced the Phibbs Report. He saw Rabley's entire career compressed into a few seconds. Rallies, extremist meetings, his youth as a long- haired dissenter, his membership of the Rebel Labourers' Party. All of this was set to a threatening, rumbling piece of music. And then six words appeared, one after the other, outlined in throbbing red, each one accompanied by a thunderclap. DO YOU TRUST THIS EVIL MAN?
'Excellent, Liris,' said Harmock, rubbing his hands together. 'It says absolutely nothing about me or my policies. You've done very well. Have it released immediately, marked for prime scheduling across all channels of public broadcast.'
'Thank you, sir,' said Liris, tapping out the instruction on her pad.
'And I want a poll reaction a.s.a.p.' Harmock swung round in his chair to survey the world beyond the Dome. He watched as another skytrain flew past. The stupid faces of the passengers, craning their necks for a view of his office, amused him. Their minds were his, their fears easy to control, their future was surely in his hands.
Galatea spoke. 'Liris, how far has your team got with the Phibbs Report?'
As always, Liris seemed a little afraid of her senior. 'We have searched it for meaning and extracted a rough digest of points favourable to the Premier. This will be released to public broadcast as soon as Mr Rabley returns from Barclow. The news of the report's findings will eclipse Rabley's return and push him down the news schedule.' She gave a petite smile.
'Superb work,' said Harmock. 'What we need right now is a big push from everyone. We play down the report, wait as long as possible - give it another couple of weeks and call the election. We'll say that we'll act on the report afterwards and set out a strategy. Promise a return to hostilities. Rabley loses impetus, we pick it up, we win, and we engineer something or other to keep the Barclow situation the same as it ever was.' He smirked up at Galatea. 'How about that?'
'An admirable strategy.' Another chime sounded from her amulet. She exchanged a worried glance with Liris.
Liris put a hand to her mouth in a curiously natural gesture. 'Oh dear. This throws everything into confusion.' Her voice faltered. 'What are we to do?'
Harmock resented the way in which they could pick up information instantaneously. 'What's happened? What's the matter?'
For answer, Galatea used her finger to switch the screen to MNN. A Femdroid newscaster had assumed a concerned frown. 'We have just heard that a Chelonian plasma missile attack has taken place on Barclow,' she said. 'Details are still coming in, and it is unknown if there have been any fatalities.'
For the second time in a day Harmock bolted from his chair. 'A missile attack?' He spluttered. 'How the hell does MNN know about it before we do?' He slammed his fist down on the desk. 'Get me Dolne, right away.'
Galatea paused, her fingertips resting on her amulet, absorbing information. 'MNN are requesting your reaction, Premier.'
'Damn them. Get me Dolne!'
Galatea's eyes closed and she gave a tiny wince. 'Premier, the reaction of the electorate is very strong. Many of them are calling in already to demand reprisals.'
'Quick off the mark, aren't they?' Harmock thought. 'This throws our strategy out of the window. We can't hold on, can we?'
It was Liris who answered. 'Delaying the election in the face of this development would be seen as weak-minded. However, to react immediately by setting a date would increase your personal popularity rating.'
Harmock smiled again. 'Brilliant.' He felt his blood rising. Today was turning out quite interesting, with these shocks and countershocks. 'We'll do it. Say, the day after tomorrow. Catch the mood.'
Liris nodded and touched her amulet, sending out the statement.
~*~*~
At present it was occupied by Galatea, who stood facing a large screen that covered an entire wall, her hands on her hips, a satisfied smile playing about her sensuous lips. The faces of Harmock and K9, relayed on MNN, filled the screen. 'Most satisfactory,' she said. In this room she was markedly less officious in manner than she was outside. 'K9 is superior to Rabley in all respects. The scenario's effectiveness is all but guaranteed.'
Liris was at her side. 'We must greet him and his mistress.' She touched her amulet and with a blue static fizz the image altered, taking in a view of the sparse reception lounge from above. 'I see Stokes is with them.'
Galatea inclined her head. 'So he is.'
Liris bit her lip, wondering how to express herself. Galatea had a way of making her feel stupid. 'Should we impound him?'
'No. His retraining is solid.'
'If he strays?'
Galatea turned and smiled reassuringly. 'Do not worry, Liris. We can retrieve him, any time we wish.' She reached out and laid a hand on Liris's shoulder. 'You are uneasy.'
Liris suppressed a shudder. 'The arrival of more offworlders at this point is -' she lowered her voice instinctively '- strange.'
Galatea turned away. 'Do not concern yourself. It is not for you to worry.'
'Of course not.' Liris regarded her thoughtfully. It was part of her own programming to speculate and draw conclusions, a facility that was beyond the reach of the mass of Femdroids. That facility was speculating now, wondering if Galatea had somehow expected these strangers.
~*~*~
Harmock was looking out over the city. The giant floodlights had been switched on, criss-crossing the night sky with bright yellow beams, illuminating the emptying walkways. Work was over for them, he thought ruefully.
But he could not rest. The following hours were crucial.
After the unscheduled debate with the dog, Harmock was making sure he would not be caught unprepared again, and was going through a number of stock responses with Liris. She had worked out what questions MNN were most likely to ask, and was grooming his replies.
'... and there will be no quarter given,' he was saying, 'in this, our most difficult hour. No, "our" and "hour", sounds wrong, damn.'
'Our hour of greatest difficulty?' Liris suggested.
'Don't like "our hour" at all. Sounds odd.' He paced around his desk. 'And "difficult" isn't dramatic enough.
How about "The darkest hour in all this planet's days"?' Liris considered. ' "Days" is literal, "hour" figurative.'
'You're right. Then, "On this, perhaps the darkest day in our history". No, too negative. We must give people the sense that at least something is better than it's ever been.'
~*~*~
Harmock floundered. 'It's... because it's...' He appealed to Liris. She would know why.
'All outward export flights are governed by strict laws on weight restriction,' she said.
Stokes fumed. 'I weigh less than one cargo crate. It's a piddling thing. Harmock!'
'You heard the lady. It's just not possible.'
'Do you do everything she tells you?' Stokes threw up his hands. 'When's the next passenger flight?'
Liris answered. 'For which bookings remain? Two months.'
'Pathetic,' said Stokes. He was flushing red. 'How am I supposed to wait two months? Don't you see? The Chelonians are going to pulverize your precious Admiral Dolne and his chums and then come for us. They won't give a flying grub for treaties or negotiations. They've been hoarding their arsenal up there for over a hundred years. You know their history. They'll raze this place, burn us all out, and claim it as their own.'
'That won't happen,' Harmock said confidently. 'We are going to win this war.'
Stokes gave a humourless laugh. 'There is more chance of me growing wings and flying twice around the moon.' Then, at last, he turned and stormed out.
A strange thought appeared in Harmock's head, put there by Stokes's ranting. 'Liris,' he asked, 'if the war does get going, we are going to win it, aren't we?'
She faced him. 'Yes.'
'Good,' said Harmock.
The strange thought disappeared.
~*~*~
Stokes was dragged into the Conditioning Annexe by Liris, whose hydraulic muscles moved his sixteen-stone bulk with as much ease as they would have lifted a sheet of paper. The Annexe was just off the observation room, and consisted of only three objects: the folding chair on which the subject was placed, the control panel and the Conditioner itself, a large, gunlike apparatus that could be swung out and across on brackets to match the subject's eyeline.
'It's a beautiful place.' Stokes was murmuring as she rolled him over on to the chair. 'Beautiful...'
With the ease of experience Galatea adjusted the chair and brought the Conditioner's angle to bear directly on Stokes's forehead. Then she turned and said briskly, 'Liris, increase lobe stimulation to level five.'
Liris had just activated the machinery, and the order came as a shock. 'Level five? It could cause a brainstorn. Mental burn-out. Even in a hypno-state that level of conditioning could cause severe damage to the neuron flow. Particularly in such a wilful organic.'
'Timing is crucial,' said Galatea. 'He must be revived. We may need to call on his knowledge.'
Liris hesitated. 'He has already given us what we need.' Galatea pointed to the Conditioner. 'Do it!'
Liris could not disobey her. She reached out and turned the central knob on the control panel to the notch marked '5'. 'Very well.'
Galatea softened her tone. 'It is regrettable. But we must be prepared.' Liris saw her give a small shudder. 'The days ahead are crucial, Liris. This is the time of destiny.'
The Conditioner's pointed tip, suspended only inches from Stokes's head, began to pulse softly.
~*~*~
Urgent impulses flowed between the amulets worn by Galatea and Liris.
'There is no alternative,' said Galatea. 'Romana must be conditioned.'
'But hers is an alien mind. We cannot know the outcome.
There was a pause before Galatea's response came, crackling with authority. 'Why this persistent questioning of my decisions, Liris?'
'It is my function to question. Were it not, the decisions you make now would be altogether less momentous.'
'I do not revel in the import of my task. When the work is done I will be glad to return to more quotidian challenges. Bring Romana to the Conditioner.'
'Can she not be told the truth?'
'No, Liris. The organics must not know until it is done. They are nervous creatures by nature.' She said firmly, 'Decirculate her.'
~*~*~
Liris stood in the corridor outside, watching as the Killers sliced through the door of the Premier's study. She turned to Galatea. 'This was never part of the Creators' program, Galatea.' She could feel nausea welling inside her, a sure sign her purpose was being perverted. 'Is the scenario so important?'
'Nothing is more important,' said Galatea.
'Then what,' asked Liris, 'is this higher power to which you refer?'
'Keep to your place, Liris,' said Galatea. She smiled. 'Ah, the door is weakening.'
~*~*~
'Galatea!' Liris called out. Her knees buckled and with an odd grinding sound she keeled over. 'The master control!'
'It must be Stokes,' said Romana. 'I suppose everybody gets a turn at making themselves useful once in their life.'
K9 managed to croak, 'Negative, Mistress. There is danger. Reverse flux is gathering strength.' His casing starting to glow red hot. 'Please take cover.'
Romana felt Harmock dragging her away. 'K9, the must be some way to stop this!' she called. She could not bear the thought of seeing him explode before her eyes.
'My force... field... is strong...' K9 gasped. He was now not much more than a red steaming blur.
Liris's head hit the floor and she gasped, 'Galatea, the plan will come to nought.'
Galatea was still on her feet, her eyes turned upwards accusingly. 'It must succeed, Liris... I know it will... has been promised to me ...'
'We are dying, Galatea,' gasped Liris. 'The organics ... doomed without us ...' There was an odd, sparking noise from somewhere inside her and she fell still.
Galatea pulled herself over to the window and collapsed against the glass. 'I tried...' she whispered as the energy left her and her fingers slid down. 'I tried to save you...'