by Far Freedom
Ramadhal looked at Mnro who merely smiled sadly at him. ” She told me on the way here - for the first time - that she once had a husband but didn’t know who he was.”
“I beg your pardon,” Etrhnk said to Mnro. “I’ve asked all the questions as if this was an interrogation. It seems you’re not the only one suffering memory problems. You know Admiral Demba, don’t you? If Pan is connected to Demba and you’re connected to him, you might also be connected to Demba.”
“Logical.”
“Was she Ruby Reed?”
“Who?”
“Let me show you Demba’s image.” The moon was replaced by an official Navy portrait of Admiral Fidelity Demba. Mnro made a show of studying the
image impassively. She shook her head.
“You don’t recognize her?”
“I can’t tell you.”
” She is important to you.”
Aylis Mnro would not respond to the Navy Commander’s statement. Ramadhal could sense the truth of it. He was certain Etrhnk had ample telemetric evidence to gain the same conclusion. Ramadhal had no idea who Admiral Demba was, but he was sure she was extremely important to Mnro. He was always attuned to her moods, and this Aylis Mnro reacted identically, even through the uncharacteristic layer of fear.
“Come with me,” Etrhnk said, rising from the meeting-room table and moving toward the wall that displayed the image of Fidelity Demba. “I have another picture you should see.” The wall image faded as he approached it, revealing the entrance to another room. Etrhnk paused and gestured for his guests to enter the room ahead of him.
Ramadhal and Mnro immediately saw the portrait resting on an easel and were arrested by it. It was an astounding portrait of a beautiful African woman. It was hard to believe it was the same Navy admiral, but it was. There was paint on the easel, as though it was used in painting the portrait.
“Bad things have happened recently on Earth,” Etrhnk said. “I took this from the residence of Rafael de LaGuardia, to save it, while the structure was burning.”
Mnro continued to drink in the magic of the oil portrait. Neither she nor Ramadhal could even respond to the disturbing news of a fire.
“Would you like to have the painting?”
Mnro couldn’t reply. Ramadhal knew she wanted it; therefore, so did Etrhnk. Ramadhal knew Fidelity Demba was extremely important to Mnro; therefore, so did Etrhnk.
Mnro eventually responded in a shaky voice. “It isn’t yours to keep or to give.”
Ramadhal could only stand and stare at the painting. He saw the most famous of the artist’s works often enough to have accepted the high opinions of the art critics on faith. He always felt they were compelling images but Ramadhal thought he lacked the sensitivity or training to enjoy their full effect. This painting, however, pushed through his protective ignorance to play a crashing chord on his emotions. Whoever this dark lady in the canvas was, he wanted to know her. Perhaps it was the situation in which he viewed it, which - until now - seemed not so dire as Mnro predicted. Only now did Ramadhal begin to sense the power of the forces at work. Why would Admiral Etrhnk present them to this stolen masterpiece? What happened to Rafael and his subject? How would Doctor Mnro be affected by this development? Ramadhal didn’t like the way Etrhnk looked at Mnro. Ramadhal desperately wanted to protect her.
“Where is she now?” Mnro asked, sounding miserable at revealing her concern for the African woman.
Admiral Etrhnk moved to stand behind the portrait on the easel. “I don’t know.”
He and Mnro looked at each other for a long moment from opposite sides of the portrait. Ramadhal hated this. Each such visual drinking of Mnro’s lovely visage seemed to subtract from Ramadhal’s well-earned share of her life. He was losing her. He had already lost her, one of her. Which one?
“How can you not know?” Ramadhal could hear desperation in Mnro’s voice.
“I share your concern for her.” Etrhnk convinced neither of them of his concern. He had no emotions.
“What do you want?” Mnro asked tiredly: a way of acknowledging Etrhnk’s dominance.
“What do you want?”
“I want to be with my friend.”
“You’ve known her a long time?”
“Forever.”
“You know she has a child?”
“Yes.”
“You want to be with her. What does that mean?”
” She’s leaving Union space on an exploration mission.”
” Should I remove her from the mission?”
“I want to go with her.”
Ramadhal was shocked. Was this why she had announced her retirement from the Mnro Clinics? He couldn’t believe Mnro would put herself aboard any kind of Navy mission. He couldn’t believe Etrhnk would allow it.
“Why?” Etrhnk asked.
She turned to Ramadhal as she spoke to Etrhnk. Ramadhal watched the signs of strong emotions play upon her youthful face and in her ancient eyes. “I’ve lived a long time, Admiral. I’ve existed a long time. I’m ready for something new. I’m ready to resume an old friendship I forgot I had.”
“With a woman you can’t remember?” Etrhnk asked.
“I remember her, but it’s been a very long time, and memory has always been a problem in my profession. We must go further back than my memory clearly reaches.”
“Before the Age of Immortality?”
“Yes.”
” She benefited from your original research.”
“Obviously.” Mnro stared longingly at the painting.
“How did you meet her? What was she like? What did she do?”
“I want to remember. I wouldn’t tell you about her, even if I could remember.”
“You abandon your life’s work,” Etrhnk said, not reacting to Mnro’s rejection, “for the sake of this poorly remembered friendship, and for passage on a dangerous journey.”
“If you won’t put me on the Freedom, I’ll try to meet up with her on her outbound course.”
“What of the Mnro Clinics?”
“Doctor Ramadhal should assume my old duties, if he will.” She turned back to Ramadhal, smiling sadly at the surprise she saw on his face.
You can’t leave me! Ramadhal wanted to shout; but, looking again at the marvelous portrait of Fidelity Demba, he thought he could appreciate Mnro’s motivation. He knew Rafael de LaGuardia. He knew the artist was dying of age and had abandoned his art for many years. He knew that for Rafael to paint such a glorious portrait at this stage of his life must require potent inspiration - perhaps from Fidelity Demba. Demba could easily be worth the importance Mnro gave her. Assume Mnro’s duties? How could he replace Aylis Mnro? She was the Mnro Clinics!
“The implications of your words go far beyond what I can easily imagine,” Etrhnk said. “You and Demba and Pan present a mystery to me. While the mystery is a challenge to my intellect that I readily accept, I think it is also a threat.”
“How could we threaten you?” Mnro asked, turning back to the tall admiral, looking up at his austere face.
“Believe my words. Perhaps you’re too isolated in your personal life, Doctor Mnro, but try to imagine a person of your historical stature placing herself in the middle of the problem I have with Admiral Demba. You raise the level of concern another order of magnitude. There are too many mysteries for there to exist a simple and safe resolution.”
“If I’m part of the mystery, why not keep me close, until you can be rid of me permanently?”
“Put you on the Freedom? Let me test your sincerity, Doctor. I will give you the rank of admiral, to place you under Navy authority, and assign you as Chief Medical Officer of the Freedom. That is the only way you will board that vessel, even if only for a short time. I don’t promise you’ll sail with her.”
“What about Pan?”
Ramadhal’s heart sank, seeing Mnro not hesitate to accept Etrhnk’s proposition, even with its implied limits.
“He can go back to Earth.”
“Wi
ll he remain free?”
“How free are any of us? I’ll keep him under observation, unless you can answer the questions I have about him.”
“I’ve told you all I remember at this time. When can I see Pan?”
“When can we formalize your induction into the Navy?”
“Now.”
When Etrhnk was alone again he sat in front of the painting and stared at it for a long time. He looked at the sketches of Demba and the boy. He put down the sketches, raised a hand toward the portrait, clenched his fist, let it drop limply to his lap. It was an emotion that formed and escaped, despite a lifetime of perfect control.
Section 025 Rescue Mission to Oz
[Boring, very boring.]
[It’s the nature of android life. We exist to serve. Our tasks are repetitive. Imagination isn’t required. What would you like to do next?]
[The transmat is back in service.]
[Where do we go?]
[You go. Africa.]
[To the admiral’s yacht?]
[The transmat will cut my data link. When you get there, I’ll be in the ship. I want you to enter the ship and find a physical link to me. I’ll tell you where to go. Will you do that?]
[What is your purpose?]
[Pan gave you an order to help Admiral Demba if you could.]
[Yes.]
[That’s my purpose. You must help me.]
Fred the android stepped onto the transmat focus and vanished. He reappeared an hour later.
[That was fun. Are you feeling crowded?]
[I have more room than ever. I can store a millennium of events here.]
[Don’t get too possessive. That’s me you’re ogling. I may look big and empty because I’m young.]
[Now what?]
[Wait and see. Let’s go back to the living room.]
Fred stood very still in the living room of Pan’s apartment. Two people walked in from the transmat room. Fred recognized the man and could infer the identity of the woman. Freddy was surprised at their arrival.
“Who are you?” the woman asked, removing her Panama hat and standing with it in both hands in front of Fred.
“I’m Fred,” Freddy replied. “Are you Aylis Mnro?”
“Yes, I am. This is Doctor Ramadhal. We expected to see Pan.”
“I know R.K. How are you doing, R.K.? Why do you expect to see Pan?”
“I’ve secured his release from the Eclipse. He should arrive soon. Have you known Pan long?”
“Many years. How long have you known him?”
“You’re quite the conversationalist, Fred. I’m the first wife of his father.”
“He doesn’t know that, does he?”
“He doesn’t know he knows it. You are a remarkable android. Why do you have all those weapons? You’re an ambulatory arsenal!”
“Top secret mission, ma’am. I’m very pleased to meet you. I must ask you to step over to the far side of the room. I don’t know how accurate or how big the Gatekeeper is.”
“Gatekeeper?”
Ramadhal moved quickly and Mnro stumbled backward as Fred held out his arms to herd them away from the center of the room. A soft pop announced the arrival of the Gatekeeper: a cubic, coal-black mass sprinkled with brilliant gems of many colors.
“Are you ready?” the Gatekeeper asked in Twenglish in a high, clear voice. “Yes,” Freddy answered, walking back to the center of the room and standing
next to the cube of sparkling dark matter. Freddy spoke to Mnro and Ramadhal. “Please remain where you are for a few moments after we leave, until the floor returns to normal.”
[If Pan is soon released, then - ]
[Too late, my friend.]
The strange android saluted Mnro and Ramadhal just before he and the alien cube vanished, leaving an exotic scent in the air that lingered briefly. A round circle of strange material appeared in the floor where they stood at the instant they disappeared. In a few seconds the circle instantly became the original floor material, although it now appeared damaged.
Mnro and Ramadhal looked at each other, equally astonished.
[No time for sightseeing.]
[Is it my imagination, or are you developing an annoying semblance of humanity? This is a fascinating place.]
[I’m here, wherever this is, possibly against my orders. I want to go back as soon as possible.]
[We have to find them. This is where they started from. How can we know where they went?]
“Wait here.”
[Did you say something?]
[No, I thought you did.]
“Gatekeeper, did you say something?” Fred-Freddy asked.
“Yes. ‘Wait here.’ That’s the message I relay to you.”
” She’s talking to you and not to me?”
“It’s easier for her.”
“I don’t see how. I have all manner of inputs.”
” She knows me better.”
“What are we waiting for?”
“Be patient!”
Percival hoped he would see the woman Fidelity again. He was eager to ask her the questions he had failed to ask. He was a skeptic who wanted to believe in a force for good in the universe. But when he saw the glittering mass of the Gatekeeper he was dismayed and almost rebellious to the One True God. It was the first time he had ever seen one of the legendary creatures.
“Percival,” he said, introducing himself to the Gatekeeper and to the strange person standing next to it. “How may I help you?”
“I’m Fred,” the odd being said, and Percival realized it must be mechanical. “We’re here to find Admiral Demba and her companions. Please tell us what you know of their location.”
“I don’t know any Admiral Demba.” Percival suspected the person Fred named was Fidelity. He was not anxious to help them. Fidelity was a good person. A Gatekeeper should not be involved with her. He found his courage and spoke his mind. “Gatekeepers are demons of She Who Must Not Be Named. Kill me now. I was tricked into helping you and I will not do that.”
“Are you a demon?” Fred asked the Gatekeeper.
“Sure. I’m also an angel of the One True God. I play both sides.”
“This is interesting. Who is ‘She Who Must Not Be Named?’” “She’s The Lady in the Mirror,” the Gatekeeper replied.
Percival was terrified and started to flee. Fred grabbed his arm with a strength Percival knew he could not overcome.
“What’s wrong, Percival?” Fred asked, pulling Percival close to him.
“It said the name!” Percival declared, struggling despite the futility of it.
“I heard no name,” Freddy said. “I heard a descriptive phrase.”
“Apparently that suffices,” the Gatekeeper commented.
“And who is the One True God?” Freddy asked the Gatekeeper.
“I don’t wish to blaspheme,” the Gatekeeper said. “She’s taken quite seriously by those such as Percival here.”
“You’re not talking about Milly, are you?” Freddy asked.
“How will destroying his faith make this person help us?” the Gatekeeper asked.
“The One True God is named Milly?” Percival cried. He didn’t understand what this meant for the religion but it sounded threatening to his own sprouting belief. But why should he take anything the friend of a Gatekeeper said as truth?
“I can torture him for the information,” the Gatekeeper offered. “It won’t take but a moment.”
“You really have worked for this ‘Lady in the Mirror?’” Fred asked. “And this is a bad thing as opposed to helping Milly?”
“It’s called staying alive. But that was a long time ago. Staying alive seems less important to me than it used to.”
Percival was curious about the Gatekeeper. They were rare, almost dwindling into the realm of myth. They were dangerous. It seemed impossible, but he thought this one was a person. As was the mechanical being. Perhaps he was wrong about their motives. His arm was growing numb from the pressure of Fred’s grip, so Perci
val had good reason to change his mind. “Is her name Fidelity?”
“Fidelity Demba,” Fred replied. “The child is named Samson. An aged man is the artist Rafael de LaGuardia. And a Rhyan named Daidaunkh.”
“You aren’t going to harm them?”
“I’m afraid we have no way of proving we only intend to help them.”
“You have a lot of weapons on your person,” Percival noted. “And Gatekeepers are known to have killed people.”
“We make them disappear,” the Gatekeeper said. “They don’t die but the act has its intended effect. Human nature is difficult to deal with! I’ve burned a few people, but just to get their attention.”
“We were sent to rescue the four people,” Fred said. “They don’t belong here.”
“Why were they sent here?” Percival tried to get at least one answer he might understand.
“Let me reply,” the Gatekeeper said before Fred could respond. “The One True God has reasons that we are not equipped to understand. She is complex. Milly is but one of her names. I believe this is an omen of great changes to come. This has never happened before and I’ve lived four centuries.”
Percival wanted to believe what the Gatekeeper said. He was only an actor. It was not his role to save civilization. He was not smart enough to know the truth of things. He tried not to think of the consequences to Fidelity and the others if he was making a mistake. “We left the Rhyan at a hospital and the others I took to an art museum. Do I need to take you there?”
“Are they still at those places?”
“The Rhyan should still be at the hospital. The others had to leave the museum. The woman wanted to go where the Black Fleet ships dock.”
“I don’t know what the Black Fleet is, but that doesn’t sound good. More details, please.”
“The curators put them in a cargo car and sent it to the receiving warehouse, which is probably very near the Black Fleet ships. I don’t know where, but the ships stay outside of the Big Ball. We ordinary people aren’t allowed to go there.”
“Where’s this hospital?”
Percival told him. “You’re a robot, aren’t you?”