Worlds and many of the colonies as well. On many receiving computers it would be just one more message in the queue; but on some, perhaps hundreds, Father's code would give it enough priority that already someone would be reading it, realizing its implications, and preparing a response. If Jane in fact had let the message through.
So Qing-jao waited for a response. Perhaps the reason no one answered immediately was because they had to contact each other and discuss this message and decide, quickly, what had to be done. Perhaps that was why no reply came to the empty display above her terminal.
The door opened. It would be Mu-pao with the game computer. "Put it in the corner by the north window," said Qing-jao without looking. "I may yet need it, though I hope not.
"Qing-jao."
It was Father, not Mu-pao at all. Qing-jao turned to him, knelt at once to show her respect-- but also her pride. "Father, I've made your report to Congress. While you communed with the gods, I was able to neutralize the enemy program and send the message telling how to destroy it. I'm waiting for their answer."
She waited for Father's praise.
"You did this?" he asked. "Without waiting for me? You spoke directly to Congress and didn't ask for my consent?"
"You were being purified, Father. I fulfilled your assignment."
"But then-- Jane will be killed."
"That much is certain," said Qing-jao. "Whether contact with the Lusitania Fleet will be restored then or not, I can't be sure." Suddenly she thought of a flaw in her plans. "But the computers on the fleet will also be contaminated by this program! When contact is restored, the program can retransmit itself and-- but then all we'll have to do is blank out the ansibles one more time ..."
Father was not looking at her. He was looking at the terminal display behind her. Qing-jao turned to see.
It was a message from Congress, with the official seal displayed. It was very brief, in the clipped style of the bureaucracy.
Han:
Brilliant work.
Have transmitted your suggestions as our orders.
Contact with the fleet already restored.
Did daughter help per your note 14FE.3A?
Medals for both if so.
"Then it's done," murmured Father. "They'll destroy Lusitania, the pequeninos, all those innocent people."
"Only if the gods wish it," said Qing-jao. She was surprised that Father sounded so morose.
Wang-mu raised her head from Qing-jao's lap, her face red and wet with weeping. "And Jane and Demosthenes will be gone as well," she said.
Qing-jao gripped Wang-mu by the shoulder, held her an arm's length away. "Demosthenes is a traitor," said Qing-jao. But Wang-mu only looked away from her, turning her gaze up to Han Fei-tzu. Qing-jao also looked to her father. "And Jane-- Father, you saw what she was, how dangerous."
"She tried to save us," said Father, "and we've thanked her by setting in motion her destruction."
Qing-jao couldn't speak or move, could only stare at Father as he leaned over her shoulder and touched the save key, then the clear key.
"Jane," said Father. "If you hear me. Please forgive me."
There was no answer from the terminal.
"May all the gods forgive me," said Father. "I was weak in the moment when I should have been strong, and so my daughter has innocently done evil in my name." He shuddered. "I must-- purify myself." The word plainly tasted like poison in his mouth. "That will last forever, too, I'm sure."
He stepped back from the computer, turned away, and left the room. Wang-mu returned to her crying. Stupid, meaningless crying, thought Qingjao. This is a moment of victory. Except Jane has snatched the victory away from me so that even as I triumph over her, she triumphs over me. She has stolen my father. He no longer serves the gods in his heart, even as he continues to serve them with his body.
Yet along with the pain of this realization came a hot stab of joy: I was stronger. I was stronger than Father, after all. When it came to the test, it was I who served the gods, and he who broke, who fell, who failed. There is more to me than I ever dreamed of. I am a worthy tool in the hands of the gods; who knows how they might wield me now?
Chapter 12
Grego's War
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