XI
Old Earth had changed since Simla had left. There seemed to be an urgency about the place and people, obviously caused by the impending threat of the Riaz. Just about everybody seemed to be involved in some military matter, whether training as a soldier or pilot, or working in a lab to create new and more powerful weapons.
Her arrival, in the gigantic Riaz ship, had of course made a splash but she had soon tired of giving interviews and relating her legendary exploit. Everyone seemed to expect her to have some special insight into their enemy but as far as she was concerned she had only spoken a few brief words to an alien, and that didn't qualify her as an expert. When pushed she'd point her interrogators in the direction of Elfi and what her research had uncovered. She, at least, had a vast staff at her disposal to bore people to death on such matters of interest as the Riaz digestive system or breeding traditions. And she missed Yaf, though not just physically. He had become embedded in her psyche as her one true mate and she knew that she would never be truly happy until she was with him and married to him. Whenever she felt particularly low she would watch a holo of him and clutch a t-shirt of his she'd begged from him. The masculine smell of him was still strong on it and she imagined his handsome face lying by her side, his hand on her belly and his sweet breath as he kissed her.
She'd been to see the Great Father, of course, and he'd told her how proud he was of her and how stupid she was for risking her life, but dads were like that. His first words to her had actually been, "Same old Simla, of the green jerkin and red leather kilt."
She gave him her best smile, "A girl must have her trademark."
Despite her heroics he still wasn't convinced that she should join up.
"If the Riaz landed on Old Earth I'd be the first to thrust a gun into your hands, Simla," he'd said, "but the fact of the matter is that soldiers are not our most urgent need."
"I know that. Let me go and work in a shipyard then."
"And what do you know about building starships? Face it, Simla, you are a Princess by birth and training ..."
"And totally useless! Princesses are not going to win this war."
"No, but Princesses can inspire their people to win wars. And you've done your share of inspiring with that mad foray to the alien ship. I don't think you need to prove anything."
"I'm not out to prove anything."
"You're upset with me because of Shap," her father said quietly.
"Yes! You and your stupid programming have ruined my life."
"I tried to protect my daughter, as any father would."
"By making me unattainable for any man."
"That wasn't my wish, Simla, you must believe that. If I could reprogram Shap right now I'd do it and have your young man here within the week and perform the marriage myself. It's your happiness that's important to me."
"Oh, father," she cried, throwing herself into his arms. He'd never been a great one for physical contact and had left most of Simla's upbringing to her mother, but even through her own bubbling she felt him racked with sobbing himself.
"Dad?"
"Oh, Simla, Simla. I have been Great Father of Old Earth for too long. I don't know if I can handle this crisis. The people require strength and I don't know if I have it."
He had always been the great oak of her existence but she suddenly realised that he was just a man, like any other. Her heart broke for him, but the last thing this great man needed was her sympathy.
"Old Earth Stands," she said firmly, "and you are Old Earth."
He gave a rueful smile. "If only that were true."
"Who else will bring the Twelve Worlds together? Who else will defeat the Riaz and put humanity back on the right course?"
"A Princess called Simla perhaps?"
"Me?" she screeched, "You've gone senile! I'm Simla, the gadfly; Simla, the silly; Simla, the pointless."
"I have eight daughters," the Great Father said, "from six wives. And all of them bear the title of Princess, but only you, Simla, are truly worthy of the title."
"Now you're being silly. Perth's smarter than me by a mile; York's beauty queen good-looking and Malaga's won Olympic medals."
"And I love them all, but none have your spirit, Simla. Why do you think I chose you to take the message to the Twelve Worlds about the aliens?"
"To get me out of your hair? Or was it because Simla's the only one that doesn't have any real role in life. She's no scientist, she's no academic, she's no artist ..."
"But she is a huntress, who never lets her prey escape. Whether your quarry is knowledge or a good meal, you will not be put down, you will fight on, you will achieve your goal. That is your strength, young lady, and don't let me ever hear you demeaning yourself again."
sSimla gave her father a defiant look. "So find me some prey, cause I'm not going to sit about on my butt for the duration of this war."
"Peace, child," her father protested, "It would serve you right if I gave you a boring admin job, counting soldiers' boots perhaps, but your friend, Dr Vilek, has asked for your help."
"Elfi? What can she want me for? I'm no computer jockey."
The Great Father stroked his daughter's hair. "She's one of our greatest scientists. She gets what she wants and she wants you."
Elfi was actually Chief Operating Officer of the Cross Discipline Research Institute which had its headquarÂters in a vast labyrinth of buildings on an artificial island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Simla had visited her there often and had no difficulty tracking down the petite scientist in her personal laboratory. She walked in, with Shap at her back, and discovered Elfi tinkering with another android which looked like a suspiciously smaller Shap.
"Oh my God," she shrieked, "you've made another one, I'm doomed!"
"Quiet child," Elfi barked kindly, fixing the chest plate back on the machine. "This is not another Shap, this is Remo."
Simla put a finger to her lips in a show of overacting. "Let me think, let me think. Shap is an abbreviation of Chaperone, so Remo must be short for ... removal android."
"You're not as stupid as you look, kid, but you're wrong. Try again."
Simla racked her brain but couldn't think of anything.
"Let me give you a hint," Elfi grinned triumphantly, "Remo isn't actually a android, because he doesn't have a neural net."
"No brain? That's dumb."
"Not really." Elfi walked over to her bench and put on a metal skull cap that was lying there. The minute she did so Remo came alive. He walked over to Simla and offered his hand.
"Welcome, Princess Simla," he said, "I am Remo. Have you worked out yet what that stands for?"
"You're working him remotely, so he's a remote. Remo ... remote."
"Correct. You're not just a pretty face, kid."
Simla shook her head. "This is the dumbest idea I ever saw. What is the point in having a human brain running a mechanical body? This is not one of your best ideas, Elfi, I definitely think that age is catching up with you."
Elfi removed the cap and took Simla's arm. "Coffee," she ordered, dragging the Princess off to the Institute's cafeteria.
Over cappuccinos Elfi explained her thinking. "We've solved the armour problem and android soldiers based on Shap are going into production as we speak. Our problem is that though they make excellent killers, Shaps are not very good at strategic thinking and that's what we're going to need to win a war. The Riaz are not going to tackle our boys head to head in pitched battles so we need some smart thinkers out there. Humans are too vulnerable and Remo is my attempt to put a human brain in an armoured body on the battlefield."
"Can't we make Shap smarter?"
"Making war isn't down to just knowledge. It's weighing possibilities, setting goals, dreaming up tactics. These are things that android brains just don't do very well."
Simla sipped at her coffee and mused. "You could make a man one and a woman one and people could screw by remote control."
"You're obsessed."
"Because I'm not getting laid and it's your fault."
"Wouldn't work anyway. We can create pseudo nerves but the feedback isn't that great, so you'd get a pale imitation of real sex."
"Not good enough. So, where do I fit in with this? Want me to draw a logo for them or something?"
"Oh no, much more grown up than that. I want you to test drive the Remo so I can use your neural patterns as a template for training the people who use them in actual combat."
Simla looked surprised. "Why me?"
"Because you're the smartest person without attitude I know." "Is that a compliment?"
"The Remo is designed to be an NCO, a middle man between the computers that will be running the big war and the Shaps who'll be doing the actual fighting. I need somebody without ego problems in that slot, and you're it." "No ego? Me?"
"I never said that, but you've got the right kind ofego." Simla made a face. "What does that mean?"
"It means your ego doesn't outrank your common sense. Drink up, we've got work to do."
They finished their coffee and returned to the lab. "Put on the cap and I'll tune you in."
"What's the range?" Simla asked.
"Only about a kilometre, so you'll need to be close to the action."
"He needs to look exactly the same as Shap, otherwise he'll be targeted by the enemy."
Elfi raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"This has been tried before," Simla explained, "Second World War here on Old Earth. The leaders of a tank group would have a command tank which was faster than the rest. They made them faster by taking off the gun and reducing the armor. The enemy knew right away that they were command tanks and blew the hell out of them. Poor guys had to put fake guns on their machines to survive. So Remo has to look exactly like Shap to blend in."
Elfi made quick notes on a pad. "Yeah, it's not just visual either. The Remo will be issuing instructions by radio, so they could spot a commander by the volume of traffic. We'll need to find a way to mask that."
"Snow them. Have them all broadcasting but have our boys filter out those frequencies."
"Smart thinking. We make a good team, Princess."
Simla put the cap on her head and closed her eyes. Her brain felt a sudden blizzard of static and then, suddenly, she was seeing the world through Remo's eyes. "How do I control him? Move and stuff."
"Don't think it, just do it. You don't think about walking, you just walk. Don't think about controlling Remo, you have to become Remo."
The new machine jerked and move forward. "It's hard," Simla complained.
"You're trying to drive it, like a car. Don't think about it that way. Set an objective and then achieve it. Go to the door and open it. Don't think about moving Remo's legs to get there. Just think about getting there."
The Remo unit swayed dangerously as Simla tried to control it. "It's totally unnatural."
"No, it's not. You don't order your own legs to walk you around."
"What I order my legs to do is none of your business." But the voice came from Remo and made Elfi jump. She was even more surprised when the android moved towards her, gripped her by the waist and lifted her onto the lab bench. He moved between her thighs and said, "Give me a handsome face, Elfi, and I will seduce the fair maidens of Old Earth."
"Ooh, you naughty android," Elfi squealed.
Remo pulled aside Elfi's lab coat and inserted his clamped his metal hand on her thighs. "Are you hot for me, my mistress?"
Elfi blushed furiously. "Simla, behave!"
"I am Remo and I shall be your android lover. I shall love you with my tireless electric muscles and my huge hydraulic parts till you swoon with pleasure."
Elfi decided to play along. "Oh but I am so small and you are far too large for me."
"I will be gentle, my love. Come, kiss me."
The metal face had no discernible lips and so Elfi gave it the briefest peck on its burnished cheek. "If one of my lab assistants comes in they're going to think I've gone mad."
"Mad with lust, my sweet," and Simla, via Remo, began massaging Elfi's thigh. She tried to resist but the android held her firm.
"Enough messing around, Simla!"
The android released the scientist and took a step back. Simla took the cap off and placed it back on the bench.
"That was an interesting experience," she gushed.
Elfi jumped down from the bench. "For me too, you don't know your own strength, or should I say, Remo's strength."
"Sorry. Overcome by passion I suppose."
"Overcome by frustration more like."
"Okay, so what now? It's difficult to get to grips with, but once you get the hang of it it's fairly simple."
Elfi smiled evilly. "Oh yes, simple. You've walked a few steps and lifted a hundred pounds onto a bench. Put the cap back on and come with me. Bring Remo."
The two androids and Simla followed the little scientist through a maze of corridors till they came to an inner courtyard lawn.
"Have Remo approach you threateningly," Elfi ordered.
Confused, Simla ordered the android towards her with its arms outstretched. Instantly, Shap jumped between the two.
"Don't stop, keep going. You have to fight your way past Shap."
This was much more difficult as it required coordination of all her limbs. She tried to have Remo duck by her guardian, but Shap quickly squatted and swept his leg through Remo's and dumped his adversary on the ground.
"Ouch!" Simla complained.
"Sore butt?" Elfi asked, "The feedback circuits work better with pain than pleasure because pain's a survival mechanism."
"No' fair, Shap's combat trained."
"What better way to learn. Go again."
Six times Simla tried to have the remotely controlled android approach her with murderous intent, and each time Shap knocked her swiftly on her ass. Finally she'd had enough. "No more, I'd do a better job myself, without that clumsy bunch of cogs."
Elfi nodded, satisfied. "That's what I thought." She took a communicator from her pocket and whispered into it.
"What have you got up your sleeve next? If it involves more of me getting a sore tush you can forget it."
"You've just confirmed my suspicions, that working by remote isn't really feasible. It would take too long to immerse yourself in the experience."
"You mean I've been getting knocked around for nothing?"
"Yes," Elfi said smugly, "I thought it would do you good."
"Bitch!"
"Now, now." She eyed Simla with a critical eye. "You haven't put on any weight have you? I was working from two year old measurements and this was made to measure."
"What on Earth are you talking about?"
"This," Elfi announced as two technicians wheeled in what appeared to be an ancient suit of armour.
"More toys?" Simla asked wearily.
"Powered armour. Put it on, the guys will help you."
Simla approached the armour warily and noticed that though it looked ancient at first glance, it's smooth curves could only have been formed by modern technology. The technicians turned some keys and the back half of the suit swung open. She was glad to see that the inside was padded.
"I'll suffocate in that thing."
"No you won't, the life support will kick in once it's sealed up."
"Sealed up?" Simla sounded panicked, "How do I get out? Shit, Elfi, I'm claustrophobic."
Elfi ran up behind her and shoved her gently in the small of her back. "Get in, you cowardly Princess."
Simla stepped into the suit tentatively and held her breath as she heard the sigh of air when it was sealed behind her. As the catches snapped shut her eyepieces lit up with a view from the suit, her hearing kicked in and she could even smell the newly mown grass of the lawn.
"Heyy, this is cool," she said.
"Better than the Remo?"
"Dunno, haven't tried to move yet."
"Take it easy. You're still working with feedback so there'll be a lag, but it'll be quicker than the cap."
Simla lifted her right leg, bending it at the knee and the suit's servos kicked in and lifted the metal leg that encased Simla's human flesh. This was easy, she decided, and walked towards the nearest building. "Piece of cake."
"Give me a forward roll," Elfi commanded.
She hadn't performed the feat since childhood, but ran across the lawn and did the tumble, even ending up with a leap as she straightened up. This was fun. She did another roll and another.
"How high can you jump?"
Simla went into a half squat and pushed down with all the force she could muster. To her own surprise she shot twenty feet straight up in the air. This was her undoing as, unprepared, she wasn't ready for the descent, which left her once more flat out on the grass.
"I hate you," she croaked to a beaming Elfi.
But the scientist was not abashed. "You've proved my point. We need people on the ground, not remotes," she said, helping her friend to her feet.
"And you couldn't have your own people confirm that?"
"Ah, but they wouldn't carry the authority of the Halven Avenger."
"The who?"
"That's what they're calling you on the street, the Avenger of Halven."
"Shit! Do I have to fight Shap again now?"
"He won't fight you, he knows you're in there. I'd match you against Remo but, again, Shap's the problem, he'd step in to defend you."
"Could a human being take on a Riaz wearing one of these?"
"Possibly, but certainly not as effectively as Shap. Why do you ask?"
"There seems to be a reaction from the general population against allowing androids to fight for humanity," Simla explained. "That's absurd."
"Maybe so, but that's people. They want to fight their own battles. Okay, get me out of this tin can and put somebody else in it."
"Can't, it's made to measure for you and you alone. You can keep it. Oh, and I haven't a clue how to get you out, not my department. See ya." And with that she walked off and re-entered the Institute building.
"Elfi!" Simla screamed, "You evil bitch!"
But the scientist did not return. Instead Shap came forward and stood before his ward.
"Can I assist you, mistress?"
"Get me out of this damn thing." "If I recall, the fastening mechanisms are located under your left armpit. Please raise your arm."
Simla did as she was told and Shap tripped the switch that allowed the suit to swing open. She stepped out and wondered why she'd bothered. Being inside the suit, with servo motors taking the strain, was like being in a lower gravity environment. A moment ago, she'd been a supergirl and now she was just pain, old, Simla.
She thought of having Shap carry it home, but that just seemed stupid. She climbed back in and had Shap seal her in.
"Well, here we are then" she said to Shap, "the titanium twins."
"Actually, I am not formed from titanium, mistress, but an advanced blend of ..." Shap tried to reply.
"Oh shut up," she said, loping off with superhuman strides.
Despite her reluctance to play the heroine Simla was now sent on a morale-boosting tour round the weapons manufacturing factories of Earth. She insisted on being allowed to plan her own schedule and the performance she was expected to put on, and ended up with something even the hotshots of Jaip would have been proud of. If she was going to be called the Halven Avenger she'd play it to the hilt. To that end edited clips of the destruction of the Halven fleet were played into a huge holo cube and this brought the audience to a hushed silence. There were then some shots of the gigantic Riaz ship and comparisons between it and Elfi's tiny Bullet, before a sequence of shots of the Riaz themselves. This usually brought on the catcalls and boos, till suddenly there was an image of Simla in her spacesuit, being towed through space by Shap. Again their size compared to the immense Riaz ship was emphasised. Simla had also had a special score composed to complement the show and now it rose to a crescendo as the holo cube exploded and Simla and Shap stood there. Simla was in her powered armour, tricked out to look more like a spacesuit. Giving the audience little time to recover after the explosion, several dozen actors, dressed as Riaz now flooded onto the stage from the wings. This was Shap's cue to get to work and destroy the enemies of mankind, though it had been difficult to train him in the finer points of play-acting. Simla, meantime, played her part by using her powered armour to leap about the stage and look busy. She made a point of never actually laying hands on a 'Riaz as she didn't want to be accused of stealing Shap's thunder, but once the aliens all lay 'dead' she came to the front of the stage and unhooked her armour herself, this being an alteration she insisted Elfi make to the suit. She would then make her speech, vilifying the alien scum, extolling Old Earth's past and encouraging the people to greater efforts in their work to defend mankind. For an amateur, it wasn't a bad show.
But the adrenaline rush she got from her performances soon faded though she continued the tour like the trouper she was. Finally, having done Africa, Australasia and most of South .America she got the message her heart had cried for, 'The Pendorans were coming!'
"Yaf! Yaf! Yaf! My man! He's coming," she screamed down the phone to Elfi.
"The Robin's coming with the first contingent of Pendorans and supplies. There's no guarantee Yaf'll be with them."
"Of course he will. You've got to get Shap fixed up and I'll introduce Yaf to my Dad and then we'll all live happily ever after, like it says in the fairy tale."
"I just hope the Riaz read the same books. Anyway, calm down, Princess, I still haven't figured out how to fix Shap."
"You've had months! You just don't care about my happiness!" Simla complained.
"Hey, honey, I'm working my little tushy off here, while you're gallivanting about on the glory road. Cut me some slack." Elfi was feeling tetchy after months of burning the midnight oil on war work but hadn't meant to snap at her friend.
"The only work your ass is doing is on a mattress under some man. And an ugly one at that, I'll bet."
Elfi gave a loud sigh. "I admit you've not been a priority, Simla, but I'll get right on it."
"Promise, sister?" Simla pleaded.
"Promise, sweetie. I'll put my top guys at the Institute onto it. You might have to bring Shap over for tests."
".Any time you say, I'm bored of this showbiz thing."
Elfi was surprised. "I thought you'd thrive on it."
"Naah, no room for ad-libbing in this show. I tried a couple of jokes once but they went down like a lead balloon, so now I just stick to the script. .Anyway, not the point, what do you need to do to fix Shap?"
Elfi paused, uncertain. "We have to let him allow us access to his neural net without feeling threatened. Then, with luck, we'll find where the conflict lies and sort it out."
"I'll bring him over right now."
"Whoa, little lady ..."
"You said priority, Elf!, and Yaf docks tomorrow."
"Okay, okay, I'll tell everybody to drop everything to bail out the distressed Princess."
"Hey, Princess of Old Earth and Avenger of Halven. I insist on my full title these days."
Elfi yawned wide in the holo tank. "You're full of shit."
Simla and Shap took a flight from Lima to Elfi's Institute and were there within two hours. Despite their speed Elfi had already set up a lab with her best technicians for the task at hand. Shap was instructed to lie on a couch while Simla took a chair beside him.
"Not much equipment here," Simla commented.
"First phase," Elfi explained, "We have to get Shap to allow us near him. And the only way to do that, short of blowing him up which would be very hard to do, is to talk to him."
"Talk to him? You said he couldn't be reasoned with."
Elfi grinned. "Despite that, he's a sentient being. We can only hope he'll listen to logic if I can make a valid case."
Elfi had dressed the part, wearing antique reading glasses with her white lab coat and carrying a clipboard.
"Now, Shap," she started "In your command hierarchy, what has priority?"
"Defence of mistress Simla."
"What is your secondary command?"
"Defence of mistress Simla's honor."
"Define honor."
"In this context, her virtue or chastity."
"Are there sub-commands attached to this?"
"Affirmative."
"Relay."
"Honor is to be defended only until a suitable candidate for marriage is found."
"What criteria would you apply to a suitable candidate?"
"Programming defines."
"Relay programming."
"The strongest of the strong, the bravest of the brave, the wisest of the wise, the most honourable of the honourable, the kindest of the kind.."
"That's impossible!" Simla exploded.
"Quiet"" Elfi hissed before turning again to the android. "You know that such a suitable candidate is unlikely to exist?"
"Affirmative."
"And that the lack of a husband will make your mistress unhappy?"
"A sad outcome, but according to programming."
"But is your mistress's happiness not included in your command hierarchy?"
"It is."
"At what position?"
"Third."
"It should be first!" Simla bawled.
"Simla!" Elfi reprimanded, "I'll get nowhere if you keep interfering."
"It's my life," Simla replied petulantly.
"May I comment, Dr Vilek?" the android asked.
Elfi was surprised. "Why, yes, Shap, of course you can."
The android sat up. "You seem to be operating under the illusion that my programming is flawed. I can assure you that it is not."
Simla jumped up from her chair. "Yes, it is, Shap. You're denying me happiness by making it impossible for me to be loved."
The android seemed to be affronted. "On the contrary, if a candidate fulfils the requirements of my programÂming I will not interfere."
"You're talking in riddles. You said such a person couldn't exist."
"I will rephrase. I have not yet encountered a suitable candidate."
Simla slumped back in her chair. "I don't get it."
Shap turned his impassive metal face to her. "Your father programmed me, mistress, and he is a wise man. Dr Vilek examined the programming and discovered what she thought was a flaw, but if you examine my sub-command to command two you will find that the solution lies within it."
"That's the kindest of the kind stuff," Elfi said, glancing down at her clipboard.
Simla planted her elbows on her knees and rested her forehead on the palms of her hands. Her father had programmed Shap. He wouldn't want her to be unhappy. So, where was the clue, because he was smart enough to leave one and expect any daughter of his to figure it out. Think like father, she ordered herself.
What's important to him, what expectations would he have?
Slowly it dawned on her as the appropriate neurons in her brain fired and she jumped up again. "Got it!"
Elfi had been fussing with a computer at her desk and whirled round. "What? What have you got?"
Simla smiled smugly. "It's as dangerous as hell and if I'm wrong Yaf might end up with a broken neck, but..."
"Tell me, tell me, I'll run a simulation through the computer," Elfi pleaded eagerly.
"I don't need a computer for this one, Elfi, this is just my Dad's cruel joke, and I will make him pay by having my children despise their grandfather."
Elfi wondered what she meant, but the glow of triumph in Simla's eyes convinced her that she was on to something, especially if she was planning children.
"Father," Simla said disarmingly on the holo-phone, "are you going to the spaceport to welcome the Pendorans?"
"I suppose," the Great Father answered gruffly, "though I'm getting a little fed up with the other Worlds and their contributions. I keep telling them I don't need more men, trained or not, and to build shipyards and munitions factories instead and each and every one gives me the same line, 'We can't motivate the people if we're not allowed to fight'."
Simla let him hang himself but offered a little incentive, "I'm sure the Pendorans will be bringing some of their delicious beef as well, to help with feeding all these extra mouths."
Derkon slapped his thigh, "Pendoran beef! The very thing to put fire in the belly. Yes, I'll be there to welcome the farmers, bless their patriotic little hearts."
Yaf was fir