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the frown. The man was full of painkillers, and they were warring with his
salesman genes.
From thought I make my sword
, Steward repeated, and watched carefully.
It won t matter in the long run which of these little factions triumphs. One
of us will command the future.
Goad him, Steward thought. Orion was glittering in his skull like diamonds.
Diamonds that could cut. I ve heard that before, he said. From Coherent
Light. Derrotero. Gorky. Far Ranger.
Curzon looked at him in mild surprise. Ah, he said, I
recognize that warrior cynicism of yours. He cleared his throat.
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Williams, Walter Jon - Voice of the Whirlwind
I used to agree with you, you know. That the policorps were nothing but
squabbling factories for conformity, each motivated by nothing but scorn for
weakness and greed for power. Each looking for an edge, hoping their ideology
or system would prove what they needed. I was... brought up in a particular
craft.
Destined for it by my genes. I did it very well. But I lacked a certain...
inspiration.
You ve got it now, I gather.
Curzon seemed amused. I sympathize with your point of view, I truly do.
During the time of the Orbital Soviet, there was an ultimate authority that
ruled on policorporate conduct. But the
Soviet fell in a haze of nerve gas and tailored viruses, and since then it has
been
Darwin Days, said Steward. It was getting hot in his sheet. His mouth was
turning dry.
Curzon smiled. Yes. Nothing but policorps struggling for their edge. A war of
all against all. And in the absence of any other responsible authority, in the
presence of a corrupt ethic in high places, you, Mr. Steward, have set above
all else your own sense of personal morality. You have ruled on de Prey s
conduct, and mine, and found it inexcusable. But it is a very...
lonely
... mode of existence, is it not? Perhaps even sociopathic. You can find no
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others worthy of your company, saving only yourself.
I have plenty of friends, Steward said. And apropos sociopathy, one thing I
don t do is have them killed.
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Williams, Walter Jon - Voice of the Whirlwind
Your Alpha did, Curzon said. Steward felt himself stiffen. On
Sheol he killed his superior officer. Curzon pointed a finger at
Steward like a gun. Bang! Curzon s eyes twinkled merrily.
Shot him dead. And he gave orders, in battle, that resulted in many of his
friends being killed. He was a position of responsibility, and responsible
people sometimes are compelled to decide these things. Curzon looked at him.
You feel free to be virtuous because you are also free from any degree of
authority. Your Alpha was never as lucky. He had responsibility over human
life, and the responsibility scarred him for life. That is part of his
tragedy.
It didn t have to be a tragedy, Steward said. Sweat was beading on his
scalp.
Listen, Curzon said. When the Powers came, I knew instantly
I wanted to work with them. I knew the interface between humanity and the
Powers was the place to be, where our consanguineous destinies were to be
forged.
Consanguineous destinies, Steward thought. Orion was laughing his britches
off.
The Powers are divided, Curzon said. So are we.
Consolidated and Brighter Suns are kept deliberately weak, and that is out of
fear. The other policorps know what we are creating here, and hope to control
it. They will fail. He shook his head. The synthesis of Power and human will
prove greater than either. The Powers recognized that right away. That was why
the Primes relocated to human space. They were searching
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Williams, Walter Jon - Voice of the Whirlwind for the edge as well. And they
knew they could find it in us.
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