[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]word through a snorting laugh.
The avatar looked hurt. A starship factory, if you please, it said, but
yes, a factory nevertheless. Only because he asked, I might add. And I ve no
shortage of places to show him, Ziller. There are places on Masaq you haven t
even heard of you d love to visit if only you knew about them.
There are? Ziller stopped and stared at the avatar.
It halted too, grinning. Of course. It spread its arms. I wouldn t want you
to know all my secrets at once, would I?
Ziller walked on, drying his fur and looking askance at the silver-skinned
creature stepping lightly at his side. You are more female than male, you
know that, don t you? he said.
The avatar raised its brows. You really think so?
Definitely.
The avatar looked amused. He wants to see Hub next, it told him.
Ziller frowned. Come to think of it, I ve never been there myself. Is there
much to see?
There s a viewing gallery. Good outlook on the whole surface, obviously, but
no better than most people get when they arrive, unless they re in a terrible
hurry and fly straight up to the under-
surface. It shrugged. Apart from that, not much to see.
I take it all your fabulous machinery is just as boring to look at as I
imagine it to be.
If not more so.
Well, that ought to distract him for a good couple of minutes. Ziller
towelled under his arms and - rising to walk, stooped, on his hind legs alone
- around his midlimb. Have you mentioned to the wretch that I may well not
appear at the first performance of my own symphony?
Not yet. I believe Kabe might be raising the subject today.
Think he ll do the honourable thing and stay away?
I really have no idea. If the suspicions we share are correct, E. H. Tersono
will probably try and talk him into going. The avatar flashed Ziller a wide
smile. It will employ some sort of argument based on the idea of not giving
in to what it will probably characterise as your childish blackmail, I
imagine.
Yes, something as shallow as that.
How fares Expiring Light? the avatar asked. Are the primer pieces ready
yet? We re only five
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days away and that s close to the minimum time people are used to.
Yes, they re ready. I just want to sleep on a couple of them one more night,
but I ll release them tomorrow. The 2 Chelgrian glanced at the avatar.
You re quite sure this is the way to do it?
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What, using primer pieces?
Yes. Won t people lose out on the freshness of the first performance? Whether
I conduct it or not.
Not at all. They ll have heard the rough tunes, the outlines of the themes,
that s all. So they ll find the basic ideas recognisable, although not
familiar. That ll let them appreciate the full work all the more. The avatar
slapped the Chelgrian across the shoulders, raising a fine spray from his
waistcoat. Ziller winced; the slight-looking creature was stronger than it
appeared. Ziller, trust us; this way works. Oh, and having listened to the
draft you ve sent, it is quite magnificent. My congratulations.
Thank you. Ziller continued drying his flanks with the towel, then looked at
the avatar.
Yes? it said.
I was wondering.
What?
Something I ve wondered about ever since I came here, something I ve never
asked you, first of all because I was worried what the answer would be, later
because I suspected I already knew the answer.
Goodness. What can it be? the avatar asked, blinking.
If you tried, if any Mind tried, could you impersonate my style? the
Chelgrian asked. Could you write a piece - a symphony, say - that would
appear, to the critical appraiser, to be by me, and which, when I heard it,
I d imagine being proud to have written?
The avatar frowned as it walked. It clasped its hands behind its back. It took
a few more steps.
Yes, I imagine that would be possible.
Would it be easy?
No. No more easy than any complicated task.
But you could do it much more quickly than I could?
I d have to suppose so.
Hmm. Ziller paused. The avatar turned to face him. Behind Ziller, the rocks
and veil trees of the deepening gorge moved swiftly past. The barge rocked
gently beneath their feet. So what, the
Chelgrian asked, is the point of me or anybody else writing a symphony, or
anything else?
The avatar raised its brows in surprise. Well, for one thing, if you do it,
it s you who gets the feeling of achievement.
Ignoring the subjective. What would be the point for those listening to it?
They d know it was one of their own species, not a Mind, who created it.
Ignoring that, too; suppose they weren t told it was by an Al, or didn t
care.
If they hadn t been told then the comparison isn t complete; information is
being concealed. If they don t care, then they re unlike any group of humans
I ve ever encountered.
But if you can-
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Ziller, are you concerned that Minds - AIs, if you like can create, or even
just appear to create, original works of art?
Frankly, when they re the sort of original works of art that I create, yes.
Ziller, it doesn t matter. You have to think like a mountain climber.
Oh, do I?
Yes. Some people take days, sweat buckets, endure pain and cold and risk
injury and - in some cases - permanent death to achieve the summit of a
mountain only to discover there a party of their peers freshly arrived by
aircraft and enjoying a light picnic.
If I was one of those climbers I d be pretty damned annoyed.
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Well, it is considered rather impolite to land an aircraft on a summit which
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