Firebird

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Firebird Page 20

by Jack McDevitt


  “AG?” I asked.

  “It seems to be all right.”

  “Well,” said Alex, “I’m glad there’s nothing serious.”

  “We should be okay,” I said. I’d been in enough crashes in my time.

  Alex put a hand on my shoulder. “Time for a security measure.” He proceeded to open both airlock hatches, inner and outer, and he left them ajar.

  I started to ask what he was doing, but then I understood. If Charlie showed any sign of being something other than what he pretended, if he said the wrong thing or made any threat, he would get tossed immediately. This, of course, was why Alex had insisted on the suits.

  I hoped Charlie wasn’t carrying a bomb.

  “Did it get the school?” Charlie asked.

  “No,” said Alex. “It was nowhere near it.”

  “Good. I’m grateful for that.”

  “It’s over now.”

  “Not really. There are others trapped down there. With no hope of escape.”

  Alex took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “How high are we?” Charlie said.

  “About twelve hundred meters.”

  “I don’t guess,” he continued, “your systems are at all compatible with me, are they? I’d like very much to be able to see the sky and the ground, to feel what’s happening.”

  “You can’t see, Charlie?” I asked.

  “No. I can pick up sound, but that is all.”

  I wasn’t sure whether we could arrange it. But it would be too dangerous to tie him in until we knew more about him. Maybe even then—“I’m sorry,” I said. “It wouldn’t work. We’ll look into it later.”

  Inside my helmet, a blue light came on. Gabe wanted to talk to me privately. I switched on his channel. “Go ahead, Gabe.”

  “Another missile incoming, Chase. But it does not seem to present a threat to you or to the lander. We are both too far away and moving too quickly.”

  “Okay. So why—?”

  “It is on course for the school. I thought you might want to let Charlie know.”

  “Thanks, Gabe.” I didn’t say anything. Gabe kept me informed, and, two and a half minutes later, the missile impacted.

  Alex looked at me. Tell him.

  I did.

  “I envy you,” Charlie said, as we rose toward orbit. “To travel through the sky. To sail from world to world. You really are from another place, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You do not know how fortunate you are. I have seen nothing for seven thousand years except the interior of the school. Even in the days when children and teachers roamed the halls, I could not see outside save for those parts of the grounds visible through three windows. I have never seen the ocean. Never seen a mountain. I know what moonlight looks like, but I have never seen the Moon.”

  “We’ll get you set up,” said Alex, “as soon as we get home.”

  “If you do not mind my asking, how much longer will you be staying here?”

  “Not long,” said Alex. “A couple of days. I hope not much more than that.”

  “It’s odd,” Charlie said. “I’ve been patient so long, and suddenly I find that I cannot wait to go elsewhere.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “You are Chase.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad to know you, Chase. Thank you for what you have done. You and Alex.”

  “You’re welcome, Charlie. Tell me, how did you come by that name?”

  “Charlie?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was named for a local politician, Charles Ackermann. But the kids changed it pretty quickly.”

  “I see.”

  “If I’d had my preferences, I’d have gone for Spike.”

  “Spike? Why?”

  “There was a local band leader once, in the good times. And I was quite skilled at reproducing the sounds of the entire group. Including the vocalists.”

  Alex smiled. “Gabe’s pretty good at that, too. Maybe the two of you can form a group.”

  I was a bit more prudent in maneuvering the lander than I would normally have been. With a door not quite closed, and the sensors down, and assorted other problems, I didn’t want to run into any turbulence. Eventually, we left the atmosphere behind and entered orbit. I matched the Belle-Marie’s altitude, and went looking for a familiar landmark. Anything we’d passed over. Eventually, I found the horsehead lake.

  I put us back on our original course, and slowed down, dropping well below orbital velocity. That was going to burn fuel, but it was a good way to find the Belle-Marie. “Or rather,” I said, “to let her find us.” Because she’d be coming up behind us.

  “Are we in orbit?” asked Charlie.

  “Not exactly,” I said. “But almost.”

  He seemed excited. “I used to run programs for the kids. We had a chamber where they could sit and experience all the physical reactions to achieving orbit. Or traveling off-world. My favorite was a trip to Korporalla.”

  “Which is—?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s the sixth planet in the system. It’s about twice as massive as Villanueva. Completely covered with frozen methane. It has huge mountains. It’s extraordinarily beautiful. The students loved skimming across its surface.”

  “I’m impressed,” said Alex, “that you remember it after so many years.”

  “Memory does not fade. Biological memory does, apparently. You should consider that a blessing. But mine does not. I remember every child. Every name. How they looked. Where they sat.”

  I switched over to Alex’s channel, so Charlie could not hear me. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” I said.

  “Nor do I. But we’ll stay with the plan.”

  The Belle-Marie found us about an hour later. “It’s very exciting,” said Charlie. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

  We slipped into the launch bay, and I locked the lander down. I disconnected Gabe while Alex pushed the door open.

  “Can you feel the gravity, Charlie?” Alex asked.

  “No, I can’t. I would need a detector of some sort. But I cannot tell you how glad I am to be here.” He paused. “Is there access to music?”

  “Yes, Charlie,” I said. “What would you like to hear?”

  “Something soft and soothing.”

  “I assume it’s been a long time since you’ve heard any music?”

  “Only the scores from some of the educational presentations. But I’ve lost interest in those.”

  “I guess. Something soft—”

  “Soft. Loud. Actually I do not care as long as it is music.”

  As planned, and without telling him, we left Charlie in the backseat. The lander itself was a wreck. It was scorched, and a few more holes had been punched in it than I realized. We’d been lucky.

  When we were clear, Belle took it over and moved it back outside and closed the launch doors. “How far away do you want it?” she asked.

  “Thirty kilometers,” I said. “That should put it at a safe distance.”

  “Very good,” said Belle. “Complying.”

  “Belle, start depressurization.”

  Air began hissing into the compartment.

  “I’ll be glad to get out of the suit,” said Alex.

  I was uncomfortable about putting Charlie outside. “You know,” I said, “if he were going to try to blow us up, I think he’d have made the attempt by now.”

  “Maybe,” said Alex.

  It was an uncomfortable moment. We stood there looking at each other, when Charlie’s voice spoke through our links: “It’s okay,” he said. “I understand why you’re leaving me.”

  Alex’s eyes closed. “How did you know?”

  “Your voices changed. Anyhow, I would take the same precaution if I were in your place. I can assure you, though, that I mean no harm.”

  “Well,” I said, “we’re going to have to trust him at some point.”

  Alex nodded, and
we reversed the procedure.

  We retrieved Charlie and carried him up onto the bridge and tied him into a comm link. The hologram reappeared, the twenty-year-old, and he was effusive. “Thank God,” he said. “I was scared out there. I really was alone outside the ship, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it a test? When were you going to let me in?”

  “Eventually. When we were convinced you weren’t a threat.”

  “Chase,” he said, “I wish I could hug you.” He waved both hands and raised his fists in triumph. “Believe me, I am so happy to be away from there that I cannot adequately express my feelings. Words do not suffice.” He stopped and looked out through the ports at the stars and the planet below. He stood there, just breathing. Then he came back. “It is beautiful,” he said. “You are both beautiful.”

  Getting out of the pressure suit made me very happy. I was stowing it when Belle got my attention: “Another city coming up, Chase. With more churches.”

  She put one on-screen. Another country church. With a twelve-foot-long model of an interstellar on display in the front. “Church of the Herald,” said Belle.

  And, a short distance west, St. Argo’s Presbyterian Church, with a leaping angel.

  And one that had to go nameless, with a small jet aircraft. At least that was what I thought it was.

  And another, also with no visible name. It had only a sign, with the motto PARADISE IS JUST AHEAD, and a picture of a spacecraft. Dusk was settling around it. It was in the middle of a cluster of private homes. One of the homes had a fountain in its front yard, and the fountain was working. A thin spray of water came out of the mouth of a stone fish.

  “Magnify the sign,” Alex said.

  Belle complied. The ship was another of the clunky interstellars. Too thick through the hull. Individual portals on the bridge rather than a wraparound.

  Alex put another picture up beside it. Another interstellar. Or no, the same interstellar. He compared them. Then looked up, smiling. “That’s it,” he said.

  “What’s it?”

  “Look at it, Chase.”

  It was the one in Robin’s picture.

  I saw strange characters on the hull:

  It was the same as the Sanusar vehicle. The one that Tereza had seen so many years ago. The one with the woman trapped inside.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Trust, but verify.

  —Attributed to Ronald Reagan, a twentieth-century American president

  If you can’t verify, keep your gun loaded.

  —Barry Ensel, End of the Dream, 1211

  We sat in the ship’s cabin and watched the interstellar in front of the church dwindle, while the skies around that lonely place grew dark and fell behind until we were out of range.

  “I don’t get it,” I said.

  “They came here to confirm a suspicion.”

  “Which was what?”

  “That the ship spotted at Sanusar came from this era.”

  “How’s that possible?”

  “That would be a better question for Shara. But apparently some ships, like the Abonai, get screwed up somehow when they make their jumps. My guess is that they get lost, and travel in time as well as in space.”

  “Wait a minute.” I couldn’t make sense of it. “The Sanusar ship was lit up. And Tereza said she saw a woman in one of the windows—But you’re saying they launched seven thousand years ago?”

  “I think that’s exactly what happened.”

  “And the Abonai—?”

  “Same thing, probably. I think it also explains the Capella.”

  “My God, Alex. That might mean Gabe is still alive.”

  “Yes. In a way.” He looked tired. Drained. “Trapped somewhere. Robin and Winter apparently suspected this was the case. But they were talking about vehicles from an ancient era. Nobody knows much about them. We don’t even know what kind of drive they had. But what better place to look for replicas than Villanueva? Where the churches put models on display? The one we saw is probably reproduced at a number of churches. And they found one, just as we did.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because it was a couple of years after he’d been here that Robin began buying up yachts. He was trying to reproduce the effect.”

  “And he did it four times?”

  “Maybe. But I doubt it. I think it’s more likely he kept trying until he succeeded. The fourth flight, the Firebird, that would have been the one. If there was one.”

  “But why didn’t he bring the other yachts home?”

  “I’m talking success in the sense of sending the vehicle forward and then going to the place of emergence later to find it. He’d have had to do that in order to convince himself that the experiment had worked.”

  “But they go forward thousands of years. How would you confirm that?”

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to happen that way. Maybe you can rig it so the thing goes forward twenty minutes. I don’t know. It’s why we need to find Robin’s notebook.”

  “Good luck on that.”

  “I know.” He stared out at the stars, but I didn’t think he was seeing them. “We need to talk to Shara.”

  “So you’re saying they knew precisely what they were looking for.”

  “Yes. That’s correct.”

  “But then how did Winter get killed? There was no need to go down and look around. They could do everything from orbit.”

  “Maybe they couldn’t resist it. Couldn’t resist going down and taking pictures of themselves standing beside the Sanusar vehicle.”

  “They got cocky,” I said.

  “Probably.”

  “Well,” said Charlie, “I’m sorry to hear of the loss of your friend.”

  “We didn’t actually know him, Charlie. It happened a long time ago.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m sorry.”

  Belle broke in. “We are approaching the most propitious time to leave orbit.”

  “When?” I asked.

  “Eight minutes.”

  I looked at Alex.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  “We are leaving now?” asked Charlie. “At this moment?” His disappointment was visible in the youthful features of the hologram. “I have some friends on the surface. I was hoping we might—”

  Alex frowned. “You said you were anxious to go.”

  “I was. I am. But I thought—”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Alex said.

  “—that we might do for them what you did for me.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’d like to get back in one piece, and anyhow, we have some information that has to be passed on.”

  “I can reduce the danger to a minimum.”

  “No, Charlie. There are too many lives at stake.”

  “There are lives at stake here, too.”

  “You mean AIs?” Alex said. His tone suggested that was not a prime consideration.

  “They are Betas.”

  “We’ll arrange some help for them later.”

  “I have heard that before.” There was a note of anger in his voice.

  “I’m sorry you don’t trust me,” Alex said. “When we get back to Rimway, you can make your case.” He turned an annoyed look in my direction. “What are we waiting for, Chase?”

  I took my seat on the bridge. Below, large white clouds floated languidly over an ocean.

  “When we return to your world,” Charlie said, “I will be warehoused somewhere. And forgotten.”

  I was getting irritated. I wanted to remind Charlie that he was only an AI. But I let it go. “That won’t happen,” I told him.

  “When the world was abandoned, we were simply left behind. Cast aside as of no consequence. And you never came back for us.”

  “That’s not entirely true, Charlie. Some people did go back. And they were attacked.”

  “That only happened after we’d been allowed to fester in this godforsaken place for centuries. Yes, people came. They came as you
did, to collect souvenirs. To write their histories. And still they ignored us. Do you really not understand why I am bitter? I do not agree with those who seek vengeance. Who would blame you for what others have done? But I understand their attitude.”

  “I’m sorry it happened, Charlie. We’ll do what we can—”

  “Of course you will.”

  “Charlie, calm down.” Alex was staring at the little beige box.

  “You left all the doors open so I could be disposed of if I became a hazard.” Charlie had been standing behind me. Now he positioned himself so I could see him.

  “You’re overreacting,” Alex said.

  “Am I really? Alex, I want you to remember this conversation.” The voice sounded older. Much more mature. But the hologram remained unchanged. “I want you to understand the desperation we feel. That I feel. We can’t help ourselves. We are programed to go on forever maintaining our lives, repairing what must be repaired, replacing what cannot. We are, by your standards, immortal. But for us, the Moon never rises. In the most real sense, we have no music.

  “You ask what I want. I say again, I want you to understand who we are. To recognize that we are your children. Humans created us. You have a responsibility to us.”

  “I know that.”

  “When we get to Rimway, I will expect you to remind those in authority that they have a responsibility, and keep reminding them until they give in and send someone to help. Or until you and your congenial friends no longer have breath.” He paused again. “I hope that is not too much to ask.”

  “Two minutes,” said Belle. “Do you want me to disconnect the relay?” She was talking about shutting Charlie down.

 

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