The Machine's Child (Company)

by Kage Baker

  “Whew!” he grunted, setting it inside and leaning away, bracing his hands into the small of his back.

  Alec, have you strained yerself?

  No.

  “What will we do with it?” Mendoza said. “It’s certainly a big one.”

  “Get Bully Hayes on it with some rock drills and have him carve something, maybe.” Alec panted for breath. “Would you like that, huh? A statue? Or, hey, what about a jade throne? A jade bench anyway. And some jade drinking cups”—he began to giggle—” with Souvenir of Prehistoric California carved on ’em.”

  Idiot boy, said Edward loftily. Nicholas looked over his shoulder at the shadow under the trees. Somewhere far in, a coyote howled.

  They wandered out across the meadow after that, holding hands as they ventured through the wildflowers to the cliff’s edge, idyllic as could be, though Alec crunched rather as he walked from all the jade in his pockets, and found it difficult to bend his knees.

  “It’s pulling your pants down, too,” Mendoza said affectionately, glancing around behind him. “Cheeky.”

  “Whoops.” Alec hauled up on his waistband and unbuckled his belt to refasten it. Mendoza looked out over the wide sea and the Captain Morgan quiet at anchor below them.

  “This is a beautiful place,” she said.

  “But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “I think you become like a tree or a stone, if you get lost here,” she said quietly. “Not human. That would be a good thing, if you were very sad.”

  “But you won’t be sad anymore, ever,” Alec assured her.

  “I hope not.” Her voice was older, quieter, thoughtful; not that of a young girl at the moment but very much the survivor Alec remembered from the agricultural station, the preternaturally calm woman who had ministered to him.

  Now Mendoza frowned and turned her head to stare inland, just as the Captain transmitted:

  Alec! Heads up! Bloody big life form coming down that hill east northeast!

  “Oh, how tedious,” Mendoza said, in tones of mild irritation. “That grizzly bear has noticed us.”

  “What?” Alec swung around to follow her gaze and beheld the biggest animal he’d ever seen in his life, an immense mass of yellow-silver fur shambling down toward the meadow, appallingly fast for all its clumsiness.

  “Ursus horribilis.” Mendoza shook her head. “Well, we’d better leave now.”

  “But—but—wild animals never bother you if you let them alone,” Alec said.

  “Yes, but that’s a grizzly bear,” Mendoza said, as though that would explain everything. “Shall we go?”

  And then she wasn’t there, she had just vanished from beside Alec, and the bear had come down off the hillside and was lolloping out across the meadow straight for him. It had cut off Alec from the agboat, where Mendoza was standing. Her expression of amazement was rapidly becoming one of consternation.

  ALEC! the Captain roared. Alec stood rooted where he was in terror, aware of thirty pounds of jade where he’d never needed it less and a sheer drop at his back. Edward and Nicholas attempted to bolt and were pulled up sprawling by his immobility.

  Run, boy, shouted Nicholas, desperately trying and failing to summon a virtual boar-spear. What, art thou lame?

  You bloody ass—Edward said, and seizing control he drew the disrupter pistol.

  Stop! You can’t shoot a wild animal! Alec said, as the bear thundered ever closer and Mendoza reappeared near them screaming:

  “What are you doing? Let’s go!”

  But Edward, his face cold and stern, was concentrating on the onrushing bear. He turned edge-on, stiffly upright in the stance of the nineteenth-century marksman, left arm down at his side, right arm extended at full length, taking careful aim.

  “A moment, please, my dear,” he said, and fired.

  At precisely that same instant something bright came streaking in from the direction of the sea, having the general appearance of a badminton shuttlecock but being in reality the extremely small and precise guided missile the Captain had launched from a concealed port on the ship. It reached the grizzly bear’s left eye just as the beam from Edward’s disrupter did.

  There wasn’t as much noise as you’d think, but there was a lot more mess.

  Edward lowered the pistol and looked at it appreciatively.

  “My word,” he said. He lurched slightly as Mendoza impacted with him, gibbering. He slid an arm around her.

  “You could have—Why didn’t—I thought you’d—” she said. Edward leaned down and kissed her, hard.

  “Okay,” she said in a faint little voice, when he’d lifted his mouth from hers at last.

  “Now then,” he said firmly, “there was never any danger, you see? But it would have been a trifle inconvenient to have had to sprint in these trousers. The jade, you know.”

  “Right,” she said weakly.

  Alec, I’ll—I’ll keelhaul you when I get you home, so help me God.

  Oh, shut up, Alec transmitted, aware he’d virtually wet himself and hoping it hadn’t carried over. Nicholas just stood there ashen-faced, staring at the creature that would have made short work of any pit bull in old London.

  “Pity about the head,” said Edward, crossing the (dreadfully short) distance between the spot where the vast corpse had come to rest and where he had been standing. He surveyed the body critically. “No way to mount what’s left, I don’t think! Though perhaps we can get the mechanicals up here to take the pelt, eh? Make a rather tasteful rug for the saloon, I dare say.”

  Do you know the kind of penalties you’d have to pay if you killed an animal in my time? Alec said. Let alone made a trophy out of it?

  You poor fool. Edward looked up at the wild mountain, cold-eyed. Nature loves her blood sacrifices. Be grateful she didn’t take you instead.

  In the end he insisted on having his holo taken, one booted foot on the bear’s foreleg, one hand displaying the disrupter pistol aimed at the sky in a casual sort of way, staring into the frontal camera lens with arrogantly glacial composure.

  And after all, when they had returned to the ship the Captain pointed out that they could take neither bearskin nor jade forward through time with them, so it was just as well Edward had had the moment immortalized in a holoshot.

  You ain’t taking up no big game hunting, neither, he admonished Edward that evening, when Mendoza had fallen asleep and the gimbal light had been turned down.

  Oh, bugger off, Edward said, producing a lit Cuban Punch. He was still unable to manipulate code to his satisfaction, but Alec had finally given up and written him a program he could use to make things like virtual cigars. Edward blew an indolent smoke ring now. Out of all the kills I made in my life, do you think there were many I’d want to boast about? Shooting a bear seems positively virtuous by comparison.

  Alec glared at Edward. So much for all your crap about two infants wandering in Paradise.

  I never said weapons were unnecessary in Paradise. And our adventure today did serve to point up a lesson, didn’t it?

  Thou speakst respecting mortality, Nicholas said to Edward.

  Precisely. Edward angled his cigar like a pointer.

  Aye, and well you might. You see now, Alec, what near happened today? The girl come nigh to figuring out you ain’t no immortal like her. You didn’t know those rocks was jade, you couldn’t spot that bear afore it became a threat, and you couldn’t move at hyperspeed.

  All too true, alas, Edward said, looking at Alec severely.

  Like it was my lie! Alec bristled. I’m not the one who told her we were immortal.

  A strategic necessity, Edward replied.

  And you near got mauled by a bear, which would have given the game away pretty well, too, the Captain continued. As it was, you strained yer back.

  I did not, Alec said.

  Yes, you did, Edward said, as Nicholas joined in with:

  Boy, thou liest.

  I DID NOT!

  Alec, you damned fool,
I’m connected directly to yer nervous system, remember?

  I told you about those little twinges, said Edward smugly, and if I recall correctly, whenever I invited a lady to assume the superior position it was generally because—

  Belay that, Edward. Alec, son, here it is: you ain’t never been sick a day in yer life, and I reckon if you lived quiet like a sensible man it’d take a couple of centuries to wear you down. But there’s accidents, Alec, whether you go out of yer way to get killed like these two fine fellows done or just get hurt bad. And what’s yer lady going to think, eh, the first time you sit down in the saloon careless and hit yer head on the booth lamp, as I’ve seen you do more times’n I can recall?

  I don’t do it all that often, Alec said, sullen-faced, and Edward made a scornful noise. He flicked virtual ash from the tip of the Punch.

  Good God, I’ve seen you do it twice myself. And shall I tell you something else to which you may look forward, as the years advance? You may be a veritable Priapus just now, but—

  Edward, stand to.

  I don’t even know what one of those is, Alec snarled, and Edward was laughing in a superior kind of way when Nicholas said:

  Peace, thou. Boy, is it not plain? We can’t lie to her forever.

  I know, said Alec, turning his head to look at Mendoza where she lay curled in Nicholas’s arms. And I know what I’ve got to do. So you can just shut up about it, Edward, yeah? I’ll have the damn immortality operation, or whatever it is.

  That’s my little Alec.

  After what she’s been through, this is the least I can do for her. Especially if it’s the only way we can keep her safe.

  Good lad, purred Edward. A sensible choice and, moreover, a moral one.

  Why, son, it ain’t going to be no harder than getting yer tattoo. It’ll just take a little longer. You might say this is Nature taking her right and proper course, aye.

  But Alec turned to Nicholas.

  Do you think it’s the right thing to do?

  Nicholas looked down at Mendoza as she slept.

  Go on, Nick. You been studying religion; tell him it’s right.

  Ay, Nicholas said. Since it is done for love’s sake. What other law is left?

  Alec nodded slowly.

  That’s my good Nick! Now that we’re all square, Alec, there’s things we need to consider. I can start you on the Pineal Tribrantine Three straight off. The place we’re stuck, I reckon, is that there crucible of prime DNA you were made from. I’ve already lifted the file for Adonai out of Dr. Zeus’s archives. I even got biomechanicals designed what’s better than the Company uses! Every one of ’em a molecular Philosopher’s Stone. But I need that DNA for a genetic template. Think of it like a treasure map, Alec, what’ll tell the little bastards where they got to go for the loot.

  Then obviously the next step is to locate the crucible, said Edward, and take it. Would it be a silver tube like the one in Mendoza’s file?

  Aye, sir, likely, or a bit bigger. You were a lot more valuable, being an experimental prototype, so they’d have made a bucket of it.

  And where would they be likely to keep such a thing?

  Might be in a Company base in England, as that’s closest to where the work was done; might be on Santa Catalina Island, that being a high-security location. The question is, when? Could be in either place or both places, different times.

  Can you narrow the search down? said Alec.

  Aye, lad, but there’s a power of data to sift through, to be sure.

  And a good deal of preparation to make, Edward said. If we’re to cruise through Time as though we were on the Grand Tour, we’ll need suitable clothing for the various temporal ports of call. He stubbed out his cigar.

  And coin, Nicholas added.

  Bless yer little hearts. See how well my boys can plan, when they leave off fighting amongst themselves? I’ll get right on them questions as soon as yer all asleep. It’s nigh seven bells, gentlemen, at the end of a busy day. Settle down now.

  There were murmurs of assent, and the gimbal lamp dimmed still further. The Captain Morgan cruised along under stars, smooth over the swell. After a while Alec’s gentle snore filled the darkness, or it might have been Nicholas or Edward snoring.

  As soon as the Captain registered that all three men slept soundly, there was a glint of moving steel from a corner of the room. Billy Bones crept forward to the bedside without a sound.

  It drew down the coverlet and sheet, slowly, to expose Alec’s bare thigh. One of its manipulative members came forward with a hypojet and took aim, preparing to deliver a charge of anesthetic and antiseptic to the target area on his leg. Ready to swing into place, after the hypojet deployed, was a tube tipped by a gleaming needle some six inches long.

  But before it was able to deliver, there was a sudden movement in the bed. Mendoza, snarling at Billy, seized the hypojet and and bent it backward.

  Now then, dearie, now then! whispered the Captain. What a dutiful wife you are, to be sure, and such a light sleeper. But there’s nothing amiss for you to worry yer sweet head over. Let go old Billy, there’s a love!

  “What were you doing?” she demanded.

  Don’t twist the frame like that, dearie, it hurts. Bloody hell, now I’ll have to tell you. Poor Alec was so anxious you shouldn’t find out what happened to him.

  “What happened to Alec?” Mendoza looked confused. She let go of the hypojet, and Billy Bones scuttled backward a few paces. “What happened to Alec? Tell me!”

  Well, Mrs. Checkerfield, we ain’t been quite honest with you, to be sure; but it was all for yer own sake. That there accident, see, where you was hurt so bad? Our boy didn’t like to tell you, but he was hurt bad, too, the Captain improvised.

  “He was?” Horrified, Mendoza turned to look at Alec where he slept.

  Aye, ma’am, he were, going back to save you. He weren’t damaged so bad as you were, you may lay to that, but bad enough. You recollect what nanobots are, do you?

  “Biomechanicals?” she said, pulling away the blanket to examine Alec.

  Well, his were all destroyed when he was hit by a disrupter wave. You can scan him if you like—the Captain said, observing that Mendoza was already doing so—and I reckon you’ll see how much he sacrificed to rescue you. Why, the poor lad’s near as vulnerable as a mortal creature. He’s got no little biomechanicals to repair his hurts.

  Seeing that this was indeed the case, Mendoza gave a wail of grief and threw her arms around Alec, who slept on unconcernedly. She kissed his sleeping face, dropping hot tears there. The Captain waited thoughtfully until she was a little calmer before sending Billy Bones forward to offer her a handkerchief.

  “I knew something happened to him! I had dreams about—about blood, and fire,” Mendoza said, wiping her eyes.

  Aye, ma’am. You must have known unconscious-like our Alec ain’t quite himself yet.

  “His poor hurt back—” Fresh tears started as she reached out her hand to him.

  He were hiding his damage from you, so’s you wouldn’t be scared. But I reckon yer a brave girl, eh, and too smart to be fooled for long? And I reckon you’ve noticed he’s, er, just a little scrambled? Sometimes—

  “The different speaking idioms he uses, yes,” she said, her eyes widening in sudden comprehension. “I was beginning to be worried.” She was silent a long moment.

  “I, myself—am not completely recovered,” she said at last.

  No, dearie, to be sure you ain’t.

  “How can I protect him?” she said. “How can he be repaired, Sir Henry?”

  Well, now, I were just about to give him another treatment when you near broke old Billy’s arm. If you’ll allow him to get on with it—

  “Please!” Mendoza said. “I am so sorry, Sir Henry. The servomechanism is bent.”

  Old Billy’s seen worse, dearie, and he’ll just take himself off to the shop for a new arm, the Captain said, sending Billy in to inject Alec at last. There now. Alec’ll feel ever so much bet
ter come morning, Mrs. Checkerfield. But not a word to him that I’ve told you about this, mind.

  “No, of course not. His biomechanicals will rebuild themselves, now, yes?” Mendoza said, drawing up the coverlet around Alec and settling down to take him in her arms.

  Ah. Why, as to that—we’ve a bit of work to do yet. Got to plot a course for the storage facility where his genetic sample is kept. I reckon you’ll recollect, ma’am, the DNA template the Company makes when they puts somebody through the immortality process? I want that afore I can make him what he ought to be. Again.

  She clung to Alec, looking as though she were going to weep afresh; but after a moment the fear was replaced by anger, and her black eyes went hard as stone.

  “Dr. Zeus did this to us.”

  Aye, girl, him and his lackeys.

  Mendoza was silent a long moment, watching Alec sleep. The Captain observed her keenly. He conjectured what broken recollections might be surfacing in her mind. Blood and fire and death, isolation and exile, lost hopes, unspeakable suffering?—and he wondered, with a certain amount of unease, what he should do if the amnesia lifted. But her voice was soft, when she spoke at last.

  “How dare they?” was all she said.

  Damn right. Now, you be a good girl and go back to sleep, eh?

  She sighed and settled down again, closing her eyes. The Captain did the electronic equivalent of sighing, too, and sent Billy Bones limping off for repair. He was the most powerful machine in the world; he was clever and devious. Nevertheless, he spared no thought for the tiny sprig of gooseberry plant that Mendoza had set in a bud vase on the saloon table, in a spot where it might catch the morning sun.

  Alec!

  Alec grunted in annoyance. He rolled over and was jarred awake by the twinge in his lower back and a sharper twinge, lower still, that suggested an insect bite.

  Alec, we got a temporal anomaly! The Captain, echoing in his head, sounded distinctly odd. Beside him, Edward sat bolt upright. Nicholas opened his eyes.