Communication.

As he read it Sven held up the end of a fiber-optic cable. Of course — a connection between both their brains would be completely secure and untappable.

But they had never communicated before in this manner, had always been assisted by Dr. Snaresbrook and her connection machine. But Sven was just as skillful, could find the metal stud under his skin, could insert the cable.

Not for an instant did Brian consider that there was any danger or difficulty in the process. He simply nodded agreement and pulled the chair over so it was out of sight of the window, sat in it with his back to the MI. Felt the familiar tracery of spider fingers on his skin.

Felt completely secure in the embrace of his own creation.

They spoke in silent communication, brain to brain.

That’s surprising. This is no faster than if we were speaking aloud.

Of course, Brian. Unlike thought, which is networked, speech is linear and must be transmitted one unit at a time.

Who are they? Do you have any idea?

They have not revealed themselves in any way, nor have I heard communication in any form from those who are organizing the surveillance. Despite this I am very sure that I know who they are.

Irish police?

Unlikely.

You are not suggesting, are you, that they’re General Schorcht’s troops?

That is the possibility that I would like you to strongly consider.

Why? I mean on what evidence do you base the supposition?

Sven did not answer at once. Brian turned slowly to look tracery of manipulators turning with him to keep the fiber cable in place. Brian did not realize it but it looked as though Sven was cradling the back of his head in his hand. He looked at the MI and could of course read nothing on its metal, unchangeable features. When Sven did speak it was with slow circumlocution.

I have learned a great deal about the basic, innate, instinctive functions of the human brain because of downloading from you. But I have a much less complete comprehension of higher-level adult emotional reactions. I can describe the human physical structure and how it functions. But I still have little understanding of the deeper functions, the emotions and reactions of human brains. This is most complex. Because although I have within my own brain a stripped-down template of your superego I do not have direct access to it. But I believe that its effects upon my own feelings perhaps enable me to understand you better than the others I have talked to…

Is this leading to anything?

Yes. I beg patience and consideration because I am attempting to discuss something of which I have no experience. Human emotions and personality. I made a human value judgment many hours ago which at the time I presumed to be correct. I am no longer completely sure that it was correct.

What decision?

I will come to that. I had knowledge of a fact that I did not tell you about. I have heard your human acquaintances speak of you and their concern for both your physical and mental health. All of them, with the single exception of General Schorcht, make every effort to smooth the course of your existence.

That is very nice to hear, Sven. What is the fact that you concealed?

The concealment I assure was in your best interest.

I have no doubt about that. What is the fact?

Silence. Finally reluctant communication. I overheard a telephone conversation.

Overheard? How?

How? Most easily. If a portable telephone had enough circuitry to broadcast its position and receive calls — don’t you think I can do an equal if not better job? The circuitry was very simple. I installed it a long time ago.

You mean that you have been listening in to other people’s phone calls? Whose?

Everyone’s of course. Any call in any cell where I am physically located.

Mine?

Everyone’s. It is a highly interesting learning experience.

You’ve veered from the topic. Answer me — what phone call did you conceal from me? Tell me now. Time for concealment is over.

If it were possible to heave a mental sigh Sven did then. A sensation of resignation and inevitability was transferred from brain to brain.

Your companion, Shelly, made a phone call.

I was there, I know about it and I don’t give a damn. It’s not important.

You misunderstand. This is not the call I was referring to. It was an earlier one…

The hell with it! I don’t want to talk about her or her damn calls…

You must care. This is vital to your survival. She made the call I refer to from the train in Mexico, when she was out of the compartment. Before you concealed her phone in the train.

Brian was almost afraid to ask the question, afraid that he already knew the answer.

Who did she speak to?

A man whose name I do not know. But it was obvious from the references and content that he was an aide to General Schorcht.

You’ve known this since yesterday — and didn’t tell me?

That is correct. I have already told you my reasons.

Brian felt the explosion of hatred burst within him. Everything she had said, done, had been a lie. And this liar, this traitor, had witnessed his humiliation, was laughing at him right now. She must have been lying to him ever since she had returned from Los Angeles. She had been there to see her father — but she had most certainly seen General Schorcht as well. How much of what she had told him was the truth — how much playacting? Anger wiped away all the other emotions.The bitch had betrayed him. Maybe Snaresbrook was in this as well. Even Sven had hidden the betrayal from him until this moment. Was he completely alone in the world? Anger became despair. He was at the edge of a black mental pit and about to fall in.

Brian. The words came from a great distance. His name repeated over and over within his own head. His vision swam and he could not see well until he rubbed at his eyes, brushed away the tears, saw Sven’s great glistening eyes just before him.

Brian, I have something good to tell you. Something you want to hear. It is still possible to make that telephone call to Dr. Bociort.

What are you saying? I told you last night it wasn’t a phone number at all.

I know. That is because I lied to you. You will remember that I gave you the number in the presence of Shelly. I was still unsure then if I should reveal her duplicity to you. But I was sure that I would give her no information to pass on to the General.

“Look who is talking about duplicity!” Brian spoke aloud, shocked — then almost smiled into the darkness. He was hooked up to an MI that was more Machiavellian than Machiavelli!

Sven — you are really something. And you are really on my side. Possibly the only intelligent creature in the world at this point. I’ve got to make that phone call again — and this time to the correct number. Any suggestions how we go about that?

Only the simple observation that we do not make it from this area where all the circuits are sure to be under surveillance.

Too right. Let’s make plans. We want to get out of this hotel, out of this area — and away from that personification of evil. Now I just want to get away from her, as far away as possible.

I agree. We should leave here at once. And might I observe that since she checked you both into this hotel you will also be sticking her with the bill.

To hell with Shelly. She should die and burn in hell forever. Now he had to escape. But how? He couldn’t leave Sven here when he left, could not consider that for an instant. Their closeness now was beyond friendship, a relationship that he could not put into words. But if he disassembled the MI again and stuffed him back into the box it would be an impossible burden.