The Janus Syndrome | Page 6

had already utilized the weapon."
I hated debriefings, because it always meant I'd be told my mistakes, and have them demonstrated to me in the process, usually by stimulation. Even when I thought I'd done a good job, Area Fourteen would pick holes in my operations, with infinite patience.
"Look, I don't have your brainpower, or your sheer intellect," I said. "Nor did I have the time to consider forty thousand ways of flushing a sniper before moving.
He'd have shot every one of those cops, and then me, if I'd given him time."
"You should have been aware of the third man," Area Fourteen said. His voice would have suited a mousy little accountant. Picky bastard. "Even the Enemy have more intelligence than to simply pursue and strike. The trap was simple. It caused you to show your hand, and quite neatly bracketed you."
I sighed again. "Damnit, you iron maiden, I didn't even know what I was walking into. You didn't tell me anything."
"To make you more aware of the possibility."
"I wasn't told I was going to be bracketed like that. Standing rule in that case is to expect a tag on the contact, and that's what I watched for. Now how the hell --"
"I would have expected a little more cautious thought on your part, Kevven."
The screen blanked.
"And I'd have expected a damn sight more consideration on your part, you computerized idiot! For Christ's sake, I'm not a goddamned Builder."
He was silent for a moment. Then: "Very well. Perhaps I have been overestimating your abilities."
"You bet."
"Sarcasm is unnecessary."
"Oh, sure it is, solid-state."
I started getting out of my floating seat.
Area Fourteen said, "You did assist in saving the life of one of our best agents."
"And my own as well."
"I am not worried about your life, Kevven, as it is perfectly obvious that you achieved that aim, especially as I can see you quite well, standing and smirking at your silly sense of humor."
I pulled a face. "Yes sir, wise master djinni. Is that all?"
"No. I estimate the cost of repairing the damage you caused at approximately one half million dollars. The funding will have to be provided."
"I'll take 'em a check the next time I go through, " I said, helpfully.
"You shall not. I calculate --"
"I noticed. Don't bother telling me what the result would be. I can guess. I was making a joke."
"You were?"
I sat down again, shaking my head. "You wouldn't notice."
"Perhaps not. However, to return to the subject, I was forced to reroute funds through a total of one thousand, three hundred fifty-one pathways, a waste of both my abilities and our own funds, said funds paying for your lifestyle, as well as journeys such as the one you undertook from Fresno."
"Yeah, I gotcha. A waste, right?"
There was a sigh. "Humans seem to have a capacity for destruction and violence that far exceeds anything else in my experience."
"I don't think you have much experience then. I can name you a half-dozen other places where they get nastier, and more often too."
"I can do very little with you while you insist on being obstreperous."
I grinned. "When we make the movie, Leonard Nimoy gets your part, solid state."
There was a sigh. Area Fourteen loves theatrical gestures, all of which tend to be a little on the weird side, as he appears to address you from a point about five feet six inches from the floor, four feet in front of you. Incongruous -- after a while you start thinking he's an invisible little man. Eventually, you even start assigning him looks, characteristic gestures, and so on.
He said, "I am afraid I do not understand your humor. Nor do I wish to understand it. You appear to enjoy changing its parameters constantly, momentarily, and without warning."
"Boy, oh boy," I said. "Are you in trouble."
"Explain, Kevven."
I shrugged. "I always got that the whole point of humor was changing it -- kinda like a surprise, opening the jack-in-the-box and getting a custard pie in the face instead of --"
"No," Area Fourteen said, interrupting the explanation; he was probably way ahead of me anyway. "I doubt that I need to know. I may investigate more thoroughly later."
He paused for a moment, anther gesture.
Then, "This Leonard Nimoy is an actor, correct?"
"Yep. Stage, screen, TV, radio, you name it." I grinned. "Famous for his ears."
"Hmm. I expect there was sarcasm intended."
I laughed. "Precisely, Captain. Vanity isn't good for you."
"Neither is it good for you, Kevven, though you may believe it is. I much prefer that you attempt to remain quiet on missions, though you may believe otherwise."
I shook my head. "Each to his own, m'man. I could lecture you on the importance of baaaadness, but you wouldn't be impressed. 'Sides, L.A.'s my gig, not Harlem." I stood up again, smoothing a wrinkle out of my pants; I'd put