“Perhaps you’re right,” Noah admitted, feeling the comfortable warmth of the sun on his face. “Essentially I’m an optimist, I suppose, looking for light instead of darkness.”
They walked a path that led into the canopa woods. The deciduous trees were in full leaf, deep green from the seasonal rains. As the forest embraced them, Noah felt secure, sheltered by its living force.
“Perhaps that’s how you got your environmental recovery company going,” Thinker said as he clanked along, “Pessimists aren’t usually successful.”
“I’m not much of a success any more,” Noah replied. “Hopefully some of my company is still operational, but I’m sure Francella and Lorenzo are scouring the galaxy, searching for anything associated with me.”
“But you have new friends,” Thinker said.
They paused at a clearing where gray-and-brown mushrooms grew, and Noah made his own observation in return. “I appreciate your loyalty, but I must say, you’re overly boastful and egotistical at times.”
“I don’t boast and I have no ego whatsoever,” Thinker said, “for those are Human frailties, and have nothing to do with machines.”
“We could argue that point for a long time, because I have seen signs of emotions in machines. Call them internal operating programs or whatever you want, but the result is the same.”
“It is possible to refute everything you say,” Thinker said.
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“As for your accusation about an ego, I simply tell the truth, and here is an example: I am the smartest sentient machine in the entire galaxy, with a virtually unlimited capacity for data absorption.”
“Speaking of that, do you recall our discussion a few days ago, when I found out that you were recording everything we said, and that you could play the data back?”
“Of course. I never forget anything.”
They scaled a steep, wooded hillside together. Noah knew the area well, and kept off the main trail to avoid detection. For a long while, he said nothing as they tramped along, and Thinker did not press him. The Guardian leader thought of Tesh’s proposal that they explore Timeweb together, and of the possibilities—and perils—this presented. Preliminary evidence suggested to Noah that he had become immortal, but as he considered this at length he had reservations. His own tests had been limited, and perhaps there was a way to kill him after all.
He cared little for his own personal safety, but his legacy was a different matter altogether. It had importance beyond the breaths he took and the beating of his heart. It meant something to the entire galaxy.
He smiled bitterly to himself as they approached the crest of the hill, where the trees thinned out and it was brighter. A short while ago, Noah had accused Thinker of being egotistical, but he had that fault himself. In a sense, though, and Noah hoped he had the right edge on it himself, an ego could be a good thing, for without it his word would mean a lot less to his followers and his message might not always be respected.
“Hold it,” Noah said, raising a hand.
Thinker went motionless beside him.
“Wait here,” Noah said. Keeping low, he crept ahead as silently as possible, avoiding sticks, making the minimum amount of noise possible. At the edge of the trees he peered beyond, toward a grassy expanse dotted with low trees and the doberock remains of a long-dead settlement. For several minutes he stood silently, scanning in all directions, listening intently to the calls of the birds and the sounds of the wind, until satisfied that it was safe to proceed. He wondered if weapons fire would erupt anyway, and if he could still heal himself, no matter the severity of the wounds.
Safety was only a matter of degree, he realized. Nothing was completely secure. If his entire cellular structure was destroyed, he might be rendered incapable of regenerating himself, thus leaving no mechanism for him to come back.
That is, if the renewal process actually worked that way, if it was a physical, cellular phenomenon. Or was it a form of miraculous recovery, a resurrection? He shivered at the thought. In any event, he could not conceal himself forever in the tunnels of Canopa, or here at the edge of the trees. He had to take risks.
That’s what life is all about, he thought.
With a wave of his hand, Noah strode boldly out of the trees, onto the sunlit grass, which sloped gently upward. Thinker followed.
At the rock pile of a fallen-down building, “Noah said, “This is an ancient archaeological site, where the original inhabitants of Canopa once lived. It’s very spiritual here, a place where I like to think about important matters.”
“I simply fold into myself whenever I want to do that,” Thinker said. “Much more efficient.”
“Perhaps,” Noah agreed, “but efficiency is not always the best thing.”
“I must contemplate that,” the robot said. With a small clatter of metal he closed himself, folding neatly into a box. He did not move.
While waiting for him to return, Noah sat on an adjacent rock and recalled coming to this site not so long ago in terms of time, only a few months. So much had occurred since then that it seemed like much longer. The people he used to know were like specters from the past, like the phantoms of this long-dormant settlement.
Presently, Thinker folded open and said, “Efficiency is always best. You have made an inaccurate statement.”
“We’ll debate it another time, my friend. First, I want to ask you something about your data collection and playback system.”
“Do you want to see and hear something you said to me, perhaps information you are having trouble remembering?” Thinker asked. “I can put you on the screen right away.”
“No, it’s not that. Well, it is, but in a larger sense.” He hesitated. Then: “Can you dig into my memories, sort of like an archaeologist, and resurrect all of the events I’ve experienced? Things that occurred before I met you, and which you could not have recorded?”
“You have already made me the official historian of the Guardians. Now you wish me to be your own personal archivist as well?”
“Can you do it?”
“Possibly. I’ve been working on a method of interfacing with Humans, similar to the way I do it with my own kind, to download data. When Giovanni Nehr joined my army, it occurred to me that I had no way of analyzing the thoughts in his brain. Since then, I have come up with a method, and I even constructed the biotechnology to accomplish data transfer.”
He hesitated. “But I have encountered certain … internal programming obstacles. You might refer to them as moral issues. As a robot, I find that I do not feel comfortable forcing the probe on a human being, not even one who is ostensibly under my command. Humans created robots in the first place, before Hibbils ever got involved, and we honor that fact.”
“That’s a nice sentiment,” Noah said.
As if ashamed, the robot looked down with his metal-lidded eyes and added, “I fear that my researches have gone too far.”
“Could you transfer my thoughts without harming me?” Noah asked.
“Of course. All of my internal operating tests confirm this.”
“Then, what if I give you permission to download my memories?”
“You would permit yourself to be a guinea pig? Don’t you consider that dangerous?”
“Not at all,” Noah said. “I have supreme confidence in your abilities. And in your friendship.”
A tentacle snaked out of Thinker’s alloy head and hovered over Noah. “This is an organic interface,” the robot explained. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Noah took a step back, and said, “I’ve been wondering if a mental replica of me could be made. As Guardian leader, I’ve been thinking about my own mortality, and I want to make sure my philosophy is imparted clearly to my followers, in case something happens to me. I have written a number of handbooks, but it would be nice to leave something more personal behind.”
“But you are still comparatively young, with much of your life to live.”
“I am a hunted, wanted man. And even if I weren’t, I’ve been doing dangerous things, guiding podships across the galaxy and the like.”
“Even so, I see great strength in you, an ability to survive and overcome great obstacles. You are no ordinary man, Noah Watanabe.”
“Perhaps not.” He looked up at the organic interface, with its array of needles, and shuddered. But he stepped forward, so that he was again directly beneath the tentacle head. “I’m ready,” he said. And he closed his eyes.
A moment later, Noah felt the tentacle connect to the top of his head, and needles of pain all over his skull. In a surge of panic, he wanted to pull away, but could not move. The sharp points of pain reminded him of stars in distant space, and how his own mind could expand into the cosmos and take incredible journeys.…
Thinker sent the probes deeper into Noah’s brain, and data began to flow into the machine’s computer brain, downloading every bit of information comprising Noah’s life, including not only his memories but the chemical makeup of his body. After several moments the robot withdrew, and Noah’s excruciating pain ceased.
“Now I know what you had for breakfast on your fifth birthday,” Thinker said.
Noah opened his eyes, squinted in the sunlight. “And that was?”
“A poached gooselet egg. You only ate half of it, and said you were full. Then you sneaked into another room and gorged yourself on a stash of candy.”
“I’d almost forgotten all that,” Noah said.
“What would you like me to do with the information? I can erase it, analyze it, or store it.”
“Store it,” Noah ordered. “I want you to keep a backup copy of me, and update it regularly.”
* * * * *
In his Canopa office, Pimyt considered the coded nehrcom message he had received within the hour, on a sheet of folded parchment. Enraged at the terrible news, he had been stomping around the room, muttering and cursing to himself.
On every merchant prince planet, the influential Hibbil had sent fake communiqués, ostensibly from the Doge. They had been passed through Jacopo Nehr and resulted in the dismantling of many Human military forces, and the positioning of others in out-of-the way locations without adequate armaments, thus rendering them useless. In addition, Hibbil officers were in key positions throughout the armed forces of the Merchant Prince Alliance, ready to take the necessary actions when ordered to do so.
My part of the plan is in perfect order, he thought.
Disgusted, the covert agent kicked the parchment under his desk, trying to get it out of his sight. The problem had to do with the Adurian side of the conspiracy, the control they were supposed to be exerting over the Zultan Abal Meshdi and all military operations of the Mutati Kingdom.
Despite being under the influence of Adurian gyros, the Zultan had still dispatched an outrider to attack and destroy Timian One, the wealthiest of all merchant prince worlds. This was a big potential setback for the HibAdu Coalition, a planet-busting torpedo that could not be called back. Meshdi was supposed to send it against another fringe planet, not the MPA capital world!
Across much of the Mutati Kingdom, the Adurians had used gyro-manipulation to twist the thoughts of the Zultan and his minions, causing them to overlook certain military anomalies, such as the preponderance of Adurian officers in leadership positions. Gyro-manipulation had also been used to establish and carry out the essentially futile Demolio torpedo program, which had diverted Mutati military assets into dead ends and permitted the shapeshifters to destroy three Human fringe worlds that were of little value—Earth, Mars, and Plevin Four.
Now came this unexpected problem involving Timian One, which should never have happened, since the HibAdu Coalition wanted to preserve that valuable planet and others for their own uses after their great victory. Many of those worlds had important assets that the wealthy merchant princes had set up, and some had untapped natural resources, minerals that were only valuable to the Hibbils and the Adurians. They were supposed to be spoils of war.
To prevent further undesirable losses, the Adurians were making emergency adjustments to the signals being transmitted to Mutatis who used gyrodomes and portable gyros for decision-making. Pimyt hoped it worked.
* * * * *
Upon returning to the underground encampment, Noah found Tesh waiting for him, just inside the entrance. She rose from a rock where she had been sitting and said to him, “Well? Do you have an answer for me yet?”
“As a matter of fact I do,” Noah replied. “My friend and I had some business to take care of first.”
“I’m not asking where you were,” she said in an impertinent tone.
He looked at her calmly, while Thinker stood beside him.
“Your answer is no, isn’t it?” Tesh said.
“My answer may not be what you expect.” Noah smiled stiffly, then brushed by her and went toward the cafeteria.
“That’s all you have to say?” she yelled after him.
“Be ready to leave first thing in the morning,” Noah shouted.
“Did he say what I think he said?” Tesh asked, looking wide-eyed at Thinker.
“He answered yes,” the robot said. “I see no other alternative, even though I do not know the question. Perhaps you asked him to marry you, which is something Humans are known to do.”
“We’re not quite ready for that,” Tesh said.
Chapter Eighty-Five
The future is a tapestry woven with disappearing threads. Sometimes it seems to come into view, but only ephemerally, providing titillating but confusing glimpses of what is to come.
—From a Parvii Legend
Disguised as ordinary travelers, Tesh and Noah took a crowded city shuttle up to the orbital pod station, ostensibly to await the next podship from deep space.
In reality, they were looking for the one that still sat in its docking berth, where they had left it. Uniformed Red Berets and technicians were poring over the craft, searching for answers. Never before had a sentient spacecraft remained in place for so long.
As they approached the vessel, Tesh reduced her pace and touched Noah’s arm, causing him to slow as well. The two of them were dressed in black robes, like the garb of a religious sect.
“What is it?” he asked in a low tone.
“Nothing, nothing,” she said, lying. They proceeded together, more slowly. The walkway was crowded with passengers and Red Beret soldiers.
She couldn’t tell him what she was feeling. Despite the fact that she had invited Noah to accompany her into space, it troubled her that this sacred spacefaring vessel was being violated by so many nosy, meddling Humans. She hoped they had not been able to gain access to the innermost secrets of the creature, its sectoid chamber and other workings that she knew so well as a Parvii.
In the past, whenever podships were abused by Humans, Vandurians, and certain other races, the sentient vessels reacted, sealing themselves up and closing off all sections to intruders, suffocating anyone aboard and then speeding off into space. Now, however, this creature was behaving differently, and Tesh didn’t know why.
Throughout history there had been examples of Parvii pilots taking heroic actions to save their vessels. In his younger years the Eye of the Swarm, Woldn, had done so himself, saving an entire herd of rampaging, panicked podships.
Tesh wondered if the battle she and Noah had fought for control of this vessel had confused or traumatized it. Perhaps it would take the two of them to restore balance to the creature, or the harm might be irreversible. She hoped not, prayed that it was not too late.
* * * * *
Unknown to either her or Noah, Anton Glavine had followed them in a separate shuttle, and now he was mingling into the crowd at the pod station. In a dark blue cape and liripipe hat, the typical garb of a nobleman, Anton watched with considerable interest as Noah and Tesh found a place off to one side of the walkway and conversed in low tones.
The young man was no longer jealous, and had all but giv
en up any hope of having a close relationship with Tesh again. But he was seriously concerned about her, and wanted to make absolutely certain she was safe. It was more than concern, he admitted to himself now. He loved her. And he only wanted the best for her, even if that meant giving her up entirely.
* * * * *
Perhaps twenty meters from the podship, Tesh and Noah were keeping an eye on activity around the vessel, watching for the first opportunity to slip on board.
Tesh had her own complex feelings, but they were for the man beside her. She cared deeply for Noah with an unrequited passion, but he was an interloper in Timeweb and had control of a podship that should be hers. It made for an internal tug of war between her personal and professional needs.
The two of them had not spoken much that morning, with tension still lingering. Now they exchanged only terse comments about the movements of the investigators and soldiers who were going in and out of the passenger compartment and cargo hold of the podship.
They fell silent for several long moments. Then she said, “We Parviis express ourselves differently than our larger Human cousins, a race we call ‘humanus ordinaire.’ When we find a person we like, we are quite aggressive. If I have offended you I am sorry, but that is our way.”
He glared down at her with hardness in his hazel eyes.
Seemingly unperturbed, she explained with surprising frankness how Parviis and Humans—she kept calling them “humanus ordinaire”—could have sex together, and that it was potentially quite pleasurable. They could not, however, conceive children … even though the Human race was a genetic Mutation of the Parviis, a split that occurred millions of years ago. Now they were two of the major galactic races, none of which could interbreed.
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