Codgerspace, p.22
Codgerspace, page 22
“So it claims,” Iranaputra admitted. “If you feel well enough, I would be glad to guide you around.”
With the exception of Mina Gelmann, Iranaputra’s companions were as willing as he to show their visitor the marvels they had encountered. Uncharacteristically the widowed computer specialist contented herself with watching, listening, and observing. She remained friendly toward the younger woman, but cautious.
As time passed, she found herself relaxing. The visitor’s distress seemed genuine, and Gelmann had several granddaughters of her own. But she never completely let her guard down. Someone had to maintain one, and her thoroughly pixilated companions clearly weren’t up to the task.
“Why do you stay here?” Ashili asked them the next day. “Why not try to find the central control, for example?”
A glistening, beached seal, Shimoda rolled over on the sand. “We’re all of us a little too old for month-long hikes. Besides, the Autothor functions equally well in every part of the ship. With the kind of setup it represents there’s no need to centralize functions.”
“I see.” She smiled prettily and wandered off up the beach to inspect Ksarusix’s sculpted sand schematic. She’d ingratiated herself with the serving robot by the simple expedient of agreeing with everything it said, including its stubborn assertion that the alien ship represented a different and higher form of intelligence despite the Autothor’s continued insistence to the contrary.
“At least one of you bipeds recognizes the obvious.” The robot added more sand to a dubious representation of an optical nexus.
“You have to excuse the others.” Hands on hips, head cocked slightly to one side, she studied the robot’s work. “They’re very old. Since you’re assigned to work with them, you should understand what that means and make allowances accordingly.”
Ksarusix spoke without looking at her. “I suppose. It’s the same with us. After extensive use systems begin to fail, internal structures to break down. Isolated memory gaps appear. Unfortunately humans have no backup capability. Blatant internal deficiency. Runs right down the whole evolutionary chain.” The small head simulated a negative head shake. “Too bad.”
“It’s sweet of you to be sympathetic.”
“Not sympathetic.” Ksarusix added a careful measure of water to the new sand. “Just honest.” It paused to admire its handiwork, glanced over at her. “It’s swell to know that there’s at least one human who’s not intimidated by reality.”
“Not me. My grasp on reality is as strong as yours.”
She joined her rescuers in testing the limits of the Autothor’s food-synthesizing capabilities, in asking it questions to which it often had no answer, in swimming in the warm ocean and running along the beach. Her wounds healed with the speed of youth and when the scabs and scars had disappeared, she was more beautiful than ever.
Iranaputra took especial pride in relating to her the story of the artifact’s discovery, not neglecting in his modest fashion to emphasize that he’d been the first to set eyes on it. She listened raptly, as she did to all their tales. It was amusing to see the five seniors treat the cajoling, demanding, pleading requests that arrived regularly from the combined military strength of the First Federal Federation and the Keiretsu with blithe indifference.
Five tottery, cranky, highly individualistic old folks in control of the most powerful device in the cosmos, Ashili mused, and all they chose to do with it was relax on its artificial beach, swim in its artificial ocean, soak up its artificial sun, and consume its artificial food. In effect, they were doing no more than continuing their retirement on a grander scale.
She played no favorites, though she spent more time with Heath than any of the others. Much to the amusement of his friends, she apparently found his military reminiscences of as much interest as they did her regular nude swims in the warm sea, though she listened to all of their individual histories with apparently equal enjoyment.
They were having a midday dip. Iranaputra preferred to take his long swim at noon because he chilled quickly. Of course, the Autothor could have adjusted the temperature as easily as it did the position of the “sun,” but Iranaputra and his companions found it more natural to have the light source overhead concurrent with the warmest part of the day. They experimented with their climate as freely as with the food.
Ashili observed them as they dallied in the mild surf. Five seniors acting like so many children, delighting in the biggest toy in history. Gelmann and Shimoda were splashing each other playfully. Heath floated on his back, while Hawkins and Iranaputra stood in the shallows debating the possible biologic origins of some mollusk they’d excavated from the sand.
She turned away to study the fake igneous escarpments that formed the little cove. If this vast chamber was a reflection of the homeworld of the artifact’s designers, it must be a pleasant place. Why would beings who dwelt on such a world have need of a warship of such size? Such speculations shrank the ship’s vast dimensions, allowing the frigid void outside to press close and dim the benign artificial sun.
She left the artifact’s discoverers to their diversions and strolled out onto the beach, lying down on her back with her feet toward the water, letting the warm air dry her coffee-colored skin. As soon as she was comfortable she donned her service underclothing and walked over to confront the enigmatic, ever-present blue ellipse. A check of her wrist chronometer showed that exactly seven days had passed since she had been brought aboard. Seven days almost to the minute.
It was time to act.
“Autothor!”
The scintillating Blueness had no face to turn to her, but that was the impression she received as it replied. “What is it?”
“I want you to move.” A quick glance oceanward showed that her elderly rescuers were paying no attention to her.
“Very well,” the Autothor replied pleasantly. “Where would you like me to move to?”
“Not you. Not your physical representation. I want you to move the ship. Into orbit around a world called Reconcavo. I will provide you with spatial coordinates.”
The device’s reply surprised her. “Why?”
“So that friends of mine can examine and study you.”
“You are examining and studying me here.”
“Not in the kind of depth and detail that can be achieved elsewhere, with proper facilities. Do you mind being studied in greater depth?”
“No.” It started to drift beachward. “If you will wait, I will be glad to consult the others.”
“No, no.” Without pausing to consider the possible consequences, she hurried to interpose herself between the Autothor and the water. “There’s no need to ask them. Just do it. I’m giving you a direct order.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t acknowledge that.”
“Why not?” What was she doing wrong?
“Because you are not one of those who saw to my reactivation.”
She was ready for that. “Since prior to your reactivation you had no cognitive abilities, how do you know I wasn’t present and didn’t participate in that process?”
“I know a great many things which would surprise you. About ancient wars and technologies, the state of the universe, about consciousness and perception.” The blue ellipse bobbed gently a meter above the sand. “One thing I am certain of is that you could not have participated in my awakening because only five organics did. Five organics and a subservient mechanical. Now there are six organics. This logic is basic.”
“I see. What if there were only five organics present now?”
“There are six.”
“True. But if there were five, would I be counted among the critical number and consequently able to issue directives to which you would respond?”
As she waited for the Autothor to reply she looked again to the figures in the water. During the past week she’d come to know them pretty well. They really were a bunch of old darlings. Shimoda would have the hardest neck to break. Heath would be the next toughest. The other three were not worth worrying about.
“You can’t contravene logic so simply,” the refulgent Blueness was telling her. “If one of the five were to be not here, then there would be four. Four reactivators. Your presence alters only numbers, not history.”
“What if all of them became not here, or incapable of issuing directives, and only I remained?”
“Then I would be compelled to return to storage. That would be awkward for you.”
“How so?”
“Not having responsible organics to concern myself with, I would initiate a conservational shutdown of unnecessary facilities. These would include organic life-support systems.”
Despite the warm air and pseudo-sunshine, she felt a sudden chill. “That makes good sense. So I am correct in assuming that you will not accept any directives from me?”
“Only those involving food, liquid refreshment, or matters concerning personal hygiene, because I have been directed by my reactivators to do so.” There wasn’t a hint of hostility or rejection in the Autothor’s tone.
“That’s all right.” She smiled automatically, even though the expression was wasted on the device. “I just wanted to know. You don’t mind my inquiring, do you?”
“Certainly not. I am programmed to respond to all interrogatories that do not compromise integrity.”
“Good. Now, if you’ll pardon me, I think I’ll go join the other organics for a swim. Could you bring up the sunset, please? I really love the evening light.”
“I am sorry, but I cannot acknowledge that request because …”
“I know why. Forget it. No hard feelings.”
“No feelings are ‘hard,’ if I interpret your words correctly.” The brilliant turquoise oval floated noiselessly above the beach.
Her expression was unreadable as she turned and ran lithely down to the water’s edge, clearing the small waves with the grace and power of a trained hurdler, laughing and joking with the old men who cheered her on. As she splashed and giggled and joked with them she was counting down the minutes in her mind.
She had time left to try anything else she could think of. But not a lot of time. Unbeknownst to her elderly companions, that commodity was rapidly running out.
XVII
The announcement from the Autothor interrupted the barbecue on the beach, which meal was progressing pleasantly under the combined supervision of Hawkins and the Ksarusix. The artificial steaks were blackening nicely above the sizzling synthesized charcoal, though neither man nor robot could do anything about the unpleasant glazed pink tinge attendant to the baked potatoes, which gave them the appearance of aborted insect larvae. The taste was right, though.
“There is another vessel alongside.”
The five nearly naked seniors looked at one another. They wore few clothes since they’d learned that the Autothor could adjust the temperature in the searoom (as they had come to refer to it) to suit their whim. To the delight of the men, Zabela Ashili chose to wear even less than they. Not only was that in keeping with Candomblean fashion, she was less in need than any of them of esthetic concealment.
“Let’s see it,” Shimoda murmured.
Instantly the familiar hovering holo appeared close by the compliant blue ellipse. Drifting within and dwarfed by the bulk of the artifact was a ship not much larger than the one which had brought Ashili.
“No markings.” Heath appraised the image professionally, having readopted his colonel persona for the benefit of their rescued waif. His companions were too polite, and too amused, to call him out on it. They were all aware that vanity’s name was not woman, but age.
“Candomblean.” They looked at Ashili. “I recognize the design. It’s a fleet-support medvac search craft. Come looking for me, I bet.”
“Admirable of them, what?” Heath murmured.
“Why have they waited so long? You disappeared days ago,” Iranaputra pointed out.
“First the Chakans, then her, old boy.” Heath postured with an elegance redolent of what had once been. “Wouldn’t you be cautious?”
“It looks like I won’t have to impose on you anymore.” Ashili smiled meltingly. “You’ve all been so good to me, when you had every right not to.”
Shimoda was fingering his clothing, which the Autothor had thoughtfully and immaculately cleaned. “I guess we’ll see you to the lock.”
“You don’t have to go to any trouble,” she told him. “I’m sure the Autothor can guide me.”
“It will not be any trouble.” Iranaputra was slipping into his pants. “It will be our pleasure to make certain you are returned safely to your people. Won’t it?” Everyone murmured assent, including Gelmann, who over the past several days had warmed to their guest in spite of her lingering suspicions.
“I can only thank you again, since I’ve seen nothing else of the artifact and would be glad of your company in a strange place.” She was pulling on the crumpled duty suit she’d been wearing when the Autothor had brought her in. “What about your barbecue?”
“No problem,” said Hawkins jauntily. “The ship will just synthesize another one.”
“Of course. I’m still not used to that,” she responded.
Outside the searoom the light was brighter, the vast chambers and corridors as imposing as ever in their abandoned vastness. The subtle moving room which had brought them to the outskirts of the artificial ocean transported them as far as it was able. From there they had to hike through two familiar chambers to reach the lock which had originally given them access to the artifact’s interior.
“Strange to be standing here again.” Iranaputra’s gaze roamed over the high, bare walls.
“Can’t tell you what a pleasure it’s been.” Heath stood close to their visitor. “Perhaps our paths may cross anew someday.”
She smiled up at the tall, straight-backed old man. “I’d almost bet on it.” Heath beamed as she looked at the others. He would have been crushed to learn that from the very first he had reminded Ashili not of a lover past or future, but of her father. “You’ve all been so nice, so caring. I almost wish that …” There was an odd undercurrent in her voice as the words trailed into inaudibility.
“Wish what, dear?” Gelmann prompted.
“Nothing. That I could spend more days like the last few, I guess.” She brightened. “I read somewhere that true humanity isn’t reached until the age of sixty.”
Hawkins winked at her. “Experience counts for a lot, kiddo.”
She had to grin. For the past week she’d felt as if she’d been pampered and cared for by five grandparents. She was startled to realize how deeply the experience had affected her.
“As per your instructions I have communicated with the small vessel.” The Autothor bobbed at Gelmann’s shoulder. “They have responded and are presently approaching the location of this airlock. I have opened the outer door.”
“Let me talk to them.” Ashili glanced to Heath for approval.
“Go ahead,” he told her magnanimously. “Let them know that you’re all right.”
“Zabela Ashili.” The azure ellipse kept the communication’s volume modest. “Are you …?”
“Right here,” she said brightly before the other could finish. “Fine and healthy, thanks to my newfound friends. Who am I addressing?”
“Medtech Maje Praxedes, of the hospital cruiser Ossain. With me is Medtech Fraja Bassan and two pilot-navigators. We’re all volunteers, and I can’t tell you how happy we are to find you alive. What happened to you?”
“My ship started coming apart around me, and these people had me rescued.”
“Had you rescued?”
“By the artifact. There’s some kind of highly active mobile communications device on board, and it responds to their commands.”
“Fascinating.” There was a pause, then, “We’re inside the indicated lock and setting down. How do we proceed?”
Ashili turned to her escort. “How do we proceed?”
It was Gelmann who directed the Autothor. “Close the outer lock door and pressurize the interior.” She regarded the younger woman. “We’ll start back to the searoom. As soon as we’re well on our way we’ll direct the Autothor to open the door here.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Ashili protested. “Don’t you want to meet my friends? I know they’d be honored to meet you.”
“It would be nice to have some new visitors,” Iranaputra observed.
Gelmann gave him a severe look, turned to gaze regretfully at Ashili. “We know nothing about your rescuers, dear. You should pardon my paranoid nature, but I’d just feel more comfortable if we didn’t expose ourselves to any strangers, even a pair of medtechs. People are simply too interested in our present situation.”
“I know. It’s only natural for you to be suspicious.”
The Autothor conveyed a voice. It sounded impatient. “We’re reading normal atmosphere outside our ship. Ashili?”
“Be just a moment,” she said to the drifting ellipse. She turned back to Gelmann. “I hope you understand, but I have to do it this way.”
In one smooth motion she brought her left foot up toward her backside and removed the heel of her boot. Her arm went around Mina Gelmann’s throat as she pressed the inner edge of the heel against the older woman’s neck while backing both of them against the nearby wall.
Gelmann struggled at first, then gave in as she felt the unexpected power of the younger woman’s forearm secure against her throat.
“I’m really sorry it has to be this way.” Ashili’s gaze darted from each of the stunned old men to the next as she strove to watch all of them at once. Shimoda looked stricken, while Heath seemed on the verge of tears. Iranaputra was numb, while alone among them Hawkins wore the mordant, knowing expression of a man who’d just had a lifetime of depressing encounters reconfirmed.
“Should’ve guessed. It’s been too enjoyable, too much fun. The universe changes, but not people.”
“It is true what they say,” Iranaputra muttered disconsolately. “When one reaches a certain age, one begins to act like a child again.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, buddy,” Hawkins told him. “They don’t have to deal with this kind of stuff on Earth anymore.”
