must've figured one decoy would buy them all the time they needed."
"To do what?" James wondered.
"Whatever it is," Bates said, "We're ringside."
Szpindel raised his mug with an infirm hand and sipped. The coffee trembled in its prison, the surface wobbling and blobbing in the drum's half-hearted gravity. James pursed her lips in faint disapproval. Open-topped containers for liquids were technically verboten in variable-gravity environments, even for people without Szpindel's dexterity issues.
"So they're bluffing," Szpindel said at last.
Bates nodded. "That's my guess. Rorschach 's still under construction. We could be dealing with an automated system of some kind."
"So we can ignore the keep-off-the-grass signs, eh? Walk right in."
"We can afford to bide our time. We can afford to not push it."
"Ah. So even though we could maybe handle it now, you want to wait until it graduates from covert to invulnerable ." Szpindel shuddered, set down his coffee. "Where'd you get your military training again? Sporting Chance Academy?"
Bates ignored the jibe. "The fact that Rorschach 's still growing may be the best reason to leave it alone for a while. We don't have any idea what the—mature, I guess—what the mature form of this artefact might be. Sure, it hid. Lots of animals take cover from predators without being predators, especially young ones. Sure, it's—evasive. Doesn't give us the answers we want. But maybe it doesn't know them, did you consider that? How much luck would you have interrogating a Human embryo? Adult could be a whole different animal."
"Adult could put our asses through a meatgrinder."
"So could the embryo for all we know." Bates rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Isaac, you're the biologist. I shouldn't have to tell you how many shy reclusive critters pack a punch when they're cornered. Porcupine doesn't want any trouble, but he'll still give you a faceful of quills if you ignore the warning."
Szpindel said nothing. He slid his coffee sideways along the concave tabletop, to the very limit of his reach. The liquid sat there in its mug, a dark circle perfectly parallel to the rim but canted slightly towards us. I even thought I could make out the merest convexity in the surface itself.
Szpindel smiled faintly at the effect.
James cleared her throat. "Not to downplay your concerns, Isaac, but we've hardly exhausted the diplomatic route. And at least it's willing to talk, even if it's not as forthcoming as we'd like."
"Sure it talks," Szpindel said, eyes still on the leaning mug. "Not like us."
"Well, no. There's some—"
"It's not just slippery, it's downright dyslexic sometimes, you noticed? And it mixes up its pronouns."
"Given that it picked up the language entirely via passive eavesdropping, it's remarkably fluent. In fact, from what I can tell they're more efficient at processing speech than we are."
"Gotta be efficient at a language if you're going to be so evasive in it, eh?"
"If they were human I might agree with you," James replied. "But what appears to us as evasion or deceit could just as easily be explained by a reliance on smaller conceptual units."
"Conceptual units?" Bates, I was beginning to realize, never pulled up a subtitle if she could help it.
James nodded. "Like processing a line of text word by word, instead of looking at complete phrases. The smaller the units, the faster they can be reconfigured; it gives you very fast semantic reflexes. The down side is that it's difficult to maintain the same level of logical consistency, since the patterns within the larger structure are more likely to get shuffled."
" Whoa ." Szpindel straightened, all thoughts of liquids and centipetal force forgotten.
"All I'm saying is, we aren't necessarily dealing with deliberate deception here. An entity who parses information at one scale might not be aware of inconsistencies on another; it might not even have conscious access to that level."
"That's not all you're saying."
"Isaac, you can't
"To do what?" James wondered.
"Whatever it is," Bates said, "We're ringside."
Szpindel raised his mug with an infirm hand and sipped. The coffee trembled in its prison, the surface wobbling and blobbing in the drum's half-hearted gravity. James pursed her lips in faint disapproval. Open-topped containers for liquids were technically verboten in variable-gravity environments, even for people without Szpindel's dexterity issues.
"So they're bluffing," Szpindel said at last.
Bates nodded. "That's my guess. Rorschach 's still under construction. We could be dealing with an automated system of some kind."
"So we can ignore the keep-off-the-grass signs, eh? Walk right in."
"We can afford to bide our time. We can afford to not push it."
"Ah. So even though we could maybe handle it now, you want to wait until it graduates from covert to invulnerable ." Szpindel shuddered, set down his coffee. "Where'd you get your military training again? Sporting Chance Academy?"
Bates ignored the jibe. "The fact that Rorschach 's still growing may be the best reason to leave it alone for a while. We don't have any idea what the—mature, I guess—what the mature form of this artefact might be. Sure, it hid. Lots of animals take cover from predators without being predators, especially young ones. Sure, it's—evasive. Doesn't give us the answers we want. But maybe it doesn't know them, did you consider that? How much luck would you have interrogating a Human embryo? Adult could be a whole different animal."
"Adult could put our asses through a meatgrinder."
"So could the embryo for all we know." Bates rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Isaac, you're the biologist. I shouldn't have to tell you how many shy reclusive critters pack a punch when they're cornered. Porcupine doesn't want any trouble, but he'll still give you a faceful of quills if you ignore the warning."
Szpindel said nothing. He slid his coffee sideways along the concave tabletop, to the very limit of his reach. The liquid sat there in its mug, a dark circle perfectly parallel to the rim but canted slightly towards us. I even thought I could make out the merest convexity in the surface itself.
Szpindel smiled faintly at the effect.
James cleared her throat. "Not to downplay your concerns, Isaac, but we've hardly exhausted the diplomatic route. And at least it's willing to talk, even if it's not as forthcoming as we'd like."
"Sure it talks," Szpindel said, eyes still on the leaning mug. "Not like us."
"Well, no. There's some—"
"It's not just slippery, it's downright dyslexic sometimes, you noticed? And it mixes up its pronouns."
"Given that it picked up the language entirely via passive eavesdropping, it's remarkably fluent. In fact, from what I can tell they're more efficient at processing speech than we are."
"Gotta be efficient at a language if you're going to be so evasive in it, eh?"
"If they were human I might agree with you," James replied. "But what appears to us as evasion or deceit could just as easily be explained by a reliance on smaller conceptual units."
"Conceptual units?" Bates, I was beginning to realize, never pulled up a subtitle if she could help it.
James nodded. "Like processing a line of text word by word, instead of looking at complete phrases. The smaller the units, the faster they can be reconfigured; it gives you very fast semantic reflexes. The down side is that it's difficult to maintain the same level of logical consistency, since the patterns within the larger structure are more likely to get shuffled."
" Whoa ." Szpindel straightened, all thoughts of liquids and centipetal force forgotten.
"All I'm saying is, we aren't necessarily dealing with deliberate deception here. An entity who parses information at one scale might not be aware of inconsistencies on another; it might not even have conscious access to that level."
"That's not all you're saying."
"Isaac, you can't
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