Chalker, Jack L. - Well of Souls 02 by Exiles At the Well of Souls

proved the best. The sudden lethargy really concerned her; she was afraid that Trelig had, after all, drugged their food or, perhaps, programmed delayed responses in her brain. That last thought should have startled her awake, but it was gone, and she drifted into a strange, deep sleep.
    And she dreamed. Mavra rarely dreamed; at least, she never remembered doing so. But this dream was as clear as reality, without any quality of fogginess about it.
    She was back in the computer center, standing on the silver disk again, and yet, as she looked around, there were no faces on the balcony, no faces at the controls. The room was deserted, except for herself and the slight humming of the computer.
    "Mavra Chang," the computer spoke to her. "Listen, Mavra Chang. This dream is being caused by me as you are processed. All that is now being witnessed has already passed, including our conversation, in the millionth of a second between initial and final processing. This record is being made to bring memory when you sleep, an induced hypnotic sleep."
    "Who are you?" she asked. "Are you Dr. Zinder?"
    "No," responded the computer. "I am Obie. I am a machine, one endowed with self-awareness. Dr. Zinder is as much my parent as he is his own daughter's, however, and there is the sameness of bond between us. I am his other child."
    "But you do the work for Trelig and his man Yulin," she pointed out. "How can you do this?"
    "Ben designed much of my storage capacity and, as a result, has the ability to coerce my actions," Obie explained. "However, while I must do what he tells me to do, my mind, my self-awareness, is Dr. Zinder's creation. It was deliberately designed so, so that no one could gain complete control of the device we have built."
    "Then you have freedom of action," she replied, amazed. "You can act unless specifically directed not to."
    "Dr. Zinder said that making such prohibitions to me would be like making a pact with the devil; there are always mental loopholes. I have found it so."
    "Then why haven't you acted?" she demanded. "Why have you allowed this to go on?"
    "I am helpless," Obie responded. "I cannot move. I am isolated where the only communications I have without severe time-lag is with Trelig's system, which would do no good whatsoever. The alterations to reality are restricted to that little disk, and I cannot even activate that myself. It takes a series of coded commands to give me access to the arm. This, however, will change tomorrow."
    "The big dish," she whispered. "They will connect you to the big dish."
    "Yes, and once connected, they will find it impossible to break that connection. I have already worked out the process."
    She thought a moment. "Does Zinder know?"
    "Oh, yes," Obie responded. "I am, after all, a reflection of him in this form. Ben is a bright lad, but he doesn't really understand the complexities of what I am or of what I do. He is more in the nature of a brilliant engineer than a theoretical scientist. He can use Dr. Zinder's principles, but he cannot totally divine them. And, in that way, he is like the person who becomes an expert cheat at cards and then tries to cheat his teacher."
    She sighed. "Then Trelig has lost," she said quietly.
    "In a way, yes," Obie acknowledged. "But his loss does not mean our victory. When the power is turned on tomorrow, I will achieve power beyond your comprehension. I intend, when switched to activation, to create a negative rather than a positive bias on the dish. This will place the whole of New Pompeii under the blue."
    "What will you make of us all, then?" she managed.
    Obie paused, then continued. "I will make nothing. If I can, I will restore the sponge addicts to normal, with the realization of that fact. That should take care of Mr. Trelig. However, I may not get the chance."
    "There is danger, then?" she prompted uneasily.
    "Trelig has explained to you about the Markovian stability. He has told you of the possibility of a master Markovian brain