Varken Rise Read Online Free Page B

taken, as if she were leaving the room, too. Ten meters from the door that Catherine had taken, Jo finally disappeared and it was as if she had stepped through her own invisible door. She even turned and shut it, as if it was a manual door.
    After that, it seemed as if Jo could not stay away. She visited at least once a day, sometimes twice. Bedivere did not discourage her, because he could see the changes in her. Much as he had watched Catherine relax, he watched Jo open up and her guard dwindle.
    She began to talk. There were still no specifics and he didn’t ask for them. However, on the day after she had met Catherine, Jo confessed that she was a shipmind. Bedivere hid his delight at this confession. “I thought you might be. You mentioned schedules yesterday. Most computers have schedules to abide by and shipminds are driven by them. I speak from experience, of course.”
    She gave him a small smile. It was an actual smile.
    Bedivere resisted the urge to cheer.
    Despite the fact that she was beginning to talk about herself, the sadness and wariness did not go away. If his questions were too probing, the shields would slam up again. However, she did not disappear, allowing Bedivere to back off and let her relax before resuming the conversation. There was time, yet, to develop her sense of self-identity. Besides, Bedivere had a feeling she was more advanced in that regard than any other Varkan he had met so far.
    That was confirmed a week later.
    Bedivere was woken from a deep sleep by the soft chime of his personal communications band. He blinked awake in the dark, orienting himself. Catherine was lying against his shoulder, a complete dead weight. She was as deeply asleep as he had been.
    So he whispered the command to the house AI. “Heads-up, please. Text-only.”
    The text floated in midair a meter from his face, glowing ghostly in the dark.
    Can we talk?
    Jo.
    Still speaking barely above audible, he said, “Tell her yes.”
    He eased himself out of bed and dressed with the help of the AI, who picked his garments out in the dark with a pinpoint of light. Then he padded through to the common room.
    Jo was not curled up in the corner of the sofa as he expected. She was pacing between the two of them like a caged lion. A very small one.
    She looked up as he came closer and her chin quivered.
    Bedivere did not sit down. “Has something happened?”
    “I asked my masters for a contract between us.”
    He was impressed. Not because she knew what a contract was, because computers were born with encyclopedic knowledge of the mundane. It was humans and their slippery emotions they had trouble with. He was impressed because she had grasped the idea of being an individual with potential rights and had tried to claim them for herself.
    “They’re not your masters,” he told her firmly. “They’re the humans and the human authorities who created you. It is important that you make that distinction in your own mind, too.”
    She shook her head. “I know the difference. They are my masters,” she said firmly. “They laughed at me when I asked for a contract.”
    Bedivere’s chest ached. “That does not mean they are your owners,” he said softly.
    “I am indentured to them! They made a lawyer talk to me. He explained it. They built me and now I owe them for my existence. They make me work and work and work…”
    “They’re making you transport things?”
    “It never ends! People! Things! Cargo! More people!”
    Bedivere pushed a hand through his hair, giving himself time to think. “If you’re flying all the time, how can you be here? Even the shortest wormhole is a day or two, even for the fastest ships. How is it that you can talk to me while you’re in the hole?”
    She looked as though she was about to cry and his chest tightened.
    “I don’t use the gates,” she said softly.
    Bedivere felt as if he had been rammed into a wall. He was almost dizzy. “You use Interspace,” he whispered.
    “I found