On her way back past the cane fields and fish farms, Daisy contemplated the outlines of her superprogram — one that would make her surrogate “hounds” and “ferrets” look as primitive as those ancient “viruses” that had first shown how closely software could mimic life. She pondered the beautiful new structure mentally. Yes, I do think it would work.
Turning a bend, Daisy was roused from her thoughts by the sight of two teenagers up ahead, laughing and holding hands as they strolled atop a levee. The boy took the girl’s shoulders and she squirmed playfully, giggling as she avoided his attempts to kiss her, until suddenly she leaned up against him with an assertion all her own.
Daisy’s smile renewed. There was always something sweet about young lovers, though she hoped they were being careful about…
She took off her sunglasses and squinted. The girl — was her daughter! As she watched, Claire pushed at her boyfriend’s chest and whirled to stride away, forcing him to hurry after her.
Make a note to call Logan, Daisy filed for future reference. Have him talk to the girl about sexual responsibility. She won’t listen to me anymore.
The one time they had had a mother-daughter chat on the subject, it had been a disaster. Claire acted horrified when Daisy did no more than suggest the simplest, most effective form of birth control.
“I will not. And that’s final!”
“But every other method is chancy. Even abstinence. I mean, who knows? You could get raped. Or miscalculate your own mood and act on impulse. Girls your age do that sometimes, you know.
“This way you can be free and easy the rest of your life. You can look on sex the way a man does, as something to seek aggressively, without any chance of, well, complications.”
Claire’s expression had been defiant. Even contemptuous.
“I’m a result of ‘complications,’ as you call them. Do you regret the fact that your old-fashioned birth control methods failed, seventeen years ago?”
Daisy saw Claire was taking it all too personally.
“I just want you to be happy—”
“Liar! You want to cut down the human population just a bit more, by having your own daughter’s tubes tied. Well get this, Mother. I intend on experiencing those ‘complications’ you speak of. At least once. Maybe twice. And if my kids look like they’re going to be real problem-solvers, and if their father and I can afford it and are worthy, we may even go for a third!”
Only after Daisy had gasped in shock did she realize that was exactly the reaction Claire had wanted. Since that episode, neither of them ever mentioned the subject again.
Still, Daisy wondered. Might it be worthwhile to send out a ferret to look for, well, chemical means? Something nonintrusive, undetectable…
But no. Claire already did all the cooking. And she probably had her gynecologist watching for any signs of tampering. Daisy made a rule of avoiding meddling wherever it might lead to retaliation. And so she decided to let the matter lay.
The girl will be leaving soon, Daisy pondered as she neared home again. Automatically, a list of chores Claire currently took care of scrolled through her mind. I’ll have to hire one of those oath-refugees, I suppose. Some poor sod who’ll work a lot harder than my own lazy kid, no matter how I tried not to spoil her. Or maybe I’ll get one of those new domestic robots. Have to reprogram it myself, of course.
On her way to the back door she nearly tripped over two unfamiliar mounds on the slope overlooking the creek. Fresh earth had been tamped over oblong excavations and then lined with stones.
What the hell are these? They look like graves!
Then she remembered. Claire had mentioned something about the gloats. Their two weed eaters had died last week of some damn stupid plague set loose by a bunch of amateur Greeners over in Africa.
That blasted kid. She knows the proper way to mulch bodies. Why did she bury them here?
Daisy made another mental note, to cast through the Net for other means of keeping the stream clear. It was a dumb compromise anyway, using gene-altered creatures to compensate for man’s ecological mistakes. Just the sort of “solution” touted by that Jennifer Wolling witch. Rot her.
What is Wolling up to, anyway? I wonder.
Soon Daisy was sitting before her big screen again. On impulse, she pursued her most recent mental thread.
Wolling.
Daisy ran a quick check of her watchdog programs. Hmm. She hasn’t published a thing since leaving her London flat. Is she sick? Maybe dead?
No. Too tough to get rid of that easily. Besides, her mailbox shows a simple transmuting to Southern Africa. Now why is that familiar?
Of course it would be trivial to create an associator search program to find out, but Daisy thought of something more ambitious.
Let’s use this as a test for my new program!
Last week one of her search routines had brought home a research article by an obscure theorist in Finland. It was a brilliant concept — a hypothetical way of folding computer files so that several caches could occupy the same physical space at the same time. The “experts” had ignored the paper on its first release. Apparently it would take the usual weeks, or even months, for its ideas to percolate upward through the Net. Meanwhile, Daisy saw a window of opportunity. Especially if she could also get her hands on Light Bearer!
If this works, I’ll be able to track and record anybody, anywhere. Find whoever’s hiding. Pry open whatever they’re concealing.
And who better to experiment on than Jen Wolling?
Daisy began filling out the details, drawing bits of this and that from her huge cache of tricks. It was happy labor and she hummed as the skeleton of something impressive and rather beautiful took shape.
Once, the door opened and closed. Daisy sensed Claire leave a tray by her elbow and recalled vaguely saying something to her daughter. She went through the motions of eating and drinking as she worked. Sometime later, the tray disappeared the same way.
Yes! Wolling’s the perfect subject, Even if she finds out, she won’t complain to the law. She’s not the type.
Then, after I’ve tried it out on her, there’s all sorts of others. Corporations, government agencies… bastards
so big they could hire software guns smart enough to keep me out. Until now!
Of course, the program was structured around a hole where the keystone — Light Bearer — would go. If she could coerce it from her cousins in exchange for information.
There! Daisy stretched back and looked over the entity she’d created. It was something new in autonomous software. I must name it, she thought, having already considered the possibilities.
Yes. You are definitely a dragon.
She leaned forward to dial in a shape from her vast store of fantasy images. What popped into place, however, amazed even her.
Emerald eyes glinted from a long, scaled face. Lips curled above gleaming white teeth. At the tip of the curled, jeweled tail lay a socket where Light Bearer would go. But even uncompleted, the visage was impressive.
Its tail whipped as the creature met her gaze and then slowly, obediently, bowed.
You will be my most potent surrogate, Daisy thought, savoring the moment. Together, you and I will save the world.
It is told how the brave Maori hero Matakauri rescued his beautiful Matana, who had been kidnapped by the giant, Matau.
Searching all around Otago, Matakauri finally found his love tied to a very long tether made from the skins of Matau’s two-headed dogs. Hacking away with his stone mere and hardwood maipi did Matakauri no good against the rope, which was filled with Matau’s magical mana — until Matana herself bent over the thong and her tears softened it so it could be cut.
Yet Matakauri knew his bride would never again be safe until the giant was dead. So he armed himself and set off during the dry season, and found Matau sleeping on a pallet of bracken surrounded by great hills.
Matakauri set fire to the bracken. And although he did not wake, Matau drew his great legs away from the heat. The giant began to stir, but by then it was too late. The flames fed on his running fat. His body melted into the earth, creating a mighty chasm, until all that remained at the bottom was his still-beating heart.
The flames’ heat melted snow, and rain filled in the chasm, forming Lake Whakatipua — which today bears the shape of a giant with his knees drawn up. And sometimes people still claim to hear Matau’s heartbeat below the nervous waves.
Sometimes, whenever the mountains tremble, folk wonder what may yet awaken down there. And when.