Exiles trilogy, p.36
Exiles Trilogy, page 36
part #99 of Exiles Series
“Then how do you ... you cook the food yourselves?”
Linc nodded.
The old man looked upset. “I didn’t think the machines would fail so soon... the repair units, especially. I’m not as smart as I thought I was.” He put a hand on Linc’s shoulder. His voice sounded strange, almost as if he was afraid of what he was saying. “How... how many of you... are still alive?”
Linc shrugged. “More than both hands.”
“Both hands? You don’t know the number? You can’t even count? What happened to the education tapes?”
Somehow Linc felt as if he had hurt the old man. “I can name everybody for you. Would that be all right?”
Jerlet didn’t answer, so Linc began, “There’s Magda, she’s the priestess, of course. And Monel, and Slav—” He went through all the names of all the people. He almost said Peta’s name, but left it out when he remembered.
“Fifty-seven of you,” Jerlet muttered. He seemed shaken. He shuffled slowly from the food selector to the nearest chair and sat down heavily, despite the minuscule gravity. “Fifty-seven. Out of a hundred. Nearly half of you “dead in less than fifteen years—” He sank his face in his hands.
Linc stood by the food selector wall, helpless, and watched the old man, his huge bloated expanse of flesh squeezed into the graceful little chair. A far part of Linc’s mind marveled that the chair’s slim legs didn’t buckle under Jerlet’s gross weight, despite the low gravity.
The old man looked up at last, and his eyes were rimmed with red.
“Don’t you understand?” His voice was rough, shaky, almost begging. “I made you! You’re my children, just as surely as if I was your father... I made you, and then I had to leave. Now nearly half of you are dead ... my fault—”
Linc stared at him.
Jerlet pulled himself out of the chair and took a shambling step toward Linc.
“Don’t you understand?” His voice rose to a roar. “It’s my fault! You were going to be the beautiful new people, the best .generation ever! You were going to reach the new world ... raised in love and kindness.... BUT YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A PACK OF IGNORANT HOWLING SAVAGES!”
His voice boomed off the walls of the tiny room. Linc winced and backed a step, bumping into the selector buttons.
“Fifty-seven of you,” Jerlet bellowed. “Stupid, superstitious savages.” He took a couple of faltering steps toward Linc, then stopped, gasping, his huge body wracked with shuddering panting sobs.
“No—” he gasped. “Not now....” He seemed to be muttering to himself. But then his eyes focused on Linc, and he could see that the old man’s eyes were as red and burning as the rats’. But not with hate, Linc knew. Jerlet’s eyes were filled with pain.
“You don’t... understand... any of this,” the old man puffed, his voice low and rasping now. “Do you? It’s all... beyond you—”
Linc wanted to say something, to reach out to him or run away, do something. But he was frozen where he stood. Even his voice seemed paralyzed.
Jerlet waved a meaty hand, feebly, at Linc and staggered out of the room.
He’s crazy. Linc thought. Like Robar, when he tried to go through the deadlock with Sheela’s body. What he says doesn’t make any sense.
Linc wondered if he should try to follow the old man. Then he noticed that some food had dropped into the selector’s pickup bin. I must have touched some of the buttons when I backed into the wall, he realized.
The food was neatly packaged, sitting in little shining boxes on a tray. Linc looked up toward the door, then decided, I’d better leave him alone. If he really is Jerlet, he’ll come back to me.
He picked up the tray and took it to the table. Unwrapping each box, he blinked at the strange sights. One box contained a liquid that was an odd color, almost like one of the colors used in the wiring back at the Living Wheel. It felt cold to his lips. The second box was an oblong metal container filled with something that looked almost like meat. When Linc peeled off the transparent film from its top, the stuff began to steam. Linc smiled. It smelted like meat.
The third box was also cold, and filled with something smooth and featureless and white. Linc dug a fingertip into it, and tasted the tiny sample. Sweet! He had never tasted anything like it before.
Without thinking about additional selections he might make, Linc sat down at the table. This stuff was strange, but it was good food.
So his first meal in Jerlet’s domain consisted of orange juice, soyburger, and ice cream.
* * *
Linc slept right there in the eating room. The floor was soft and warm, so he stretched out and went to sleep almost immediately.
In his dreams he saw Jerlet and some of the people from the Living Wheel—Magda was trying to tell him something, but Monel got between them somehow. It was all mixed up and strange.
Then he was falling, in his dream, falling through darkness with the evil red eyes of the rats chasing behind him. But the eyes all merged into one single huge red eye with a great hollow booming voice roaring after him. Linc fell through the empty darkness, cold, alone, helpless....
And woke with a shock. He was lying face down on the soft floor of the eating room. Soaked with sweat, hot, mouth open in what must have been a yell of terror.
He sat up.
He felt wide awake. The dreams quickly faded into the dark parts of the mind where forgetfulness covers everything.
Drawing his knees up under his chin, and wrapping his arms around his legs. Linc tried to concentrate and think.
Almost immediately he smiled to himself. “Magda, wherever you are, forgive me. I’m not going to meditate. I’m not going to ask for Jerlet to point out the way I should go. I have to think this out for myself.”
It was funny, but in a bitter way. Here I nearly kill myself to find Jerlet, and it turns out that he’s crazy. A new thought struck Linc’s mind, and even his faint smile vanished. Maybe he’s dangerous! Maybe he’ll try to hurt me... kill me. He sure looked angry at lastmeal. Sounded it. too.
Carefully, Linc pushed the door open and peered down the narrow, strangely-curved passageway. No one in sight. He tiptoed down the passageway and tried several other doors. No sign of Jerlet, although he did find a couple of sleeping rooms, complete with sonic showers and bins full of strange-looking clothes.
All the machines worked up here! Linc saw that the lights were all glowing faithfully. He stepped into one of the bedrooms and the door slid shut behind him automatically. He tried the water tap, a shining metal faucet set above an equally-sparkling sink, and water flowed sweet and cold from it.
I’ll bet the sonic shower works, too.
Locking the door to the passageway. Linc quickly stripped off the formless white robe Jerlet had dressed him in and showered. The tingling vibrations all over his skin made him feel better than he had since he’d been a child. No standing in Linc. No worrying about the power running down before your turn comes.
He examined the clothes that were stored in the bins next to the bed. They seemed too small for Linc to wear, but when he tried on one of the shirts, it stretched to fit his body exactly. The pants, too.
And there are different colors!
One of the wall screens was strangely shaped, long enough to reach from ceiling to floor, and so narrow that it was barely as wide as Linc’s shoulders. And it was bright; it reflected everything in the room very clearly. Linc had never heard of a mirror before, but he automatically used this one as he tried on clothes of different colors.
He finally settled on a high-necked shirt that was almost the same shade of blue as his eyes, and a dark-brown pair of pants. He found slippers in another bin, and even they adjusted their shape magically to fit his feet snugly.
“Hello!”
Linc jumped as if an electric shock sparked through him.
“Hello!” Jerlet’s rough, husky voice called again. “Can you hear me?”
It was coming from a speaker grill in the ceiling, Linc realized. There was a viewing screen on the wall facing the bed, but it was dark and dead.
“Look... I don’t even remember your name, dammit. I, uh, listen son, I got very upset yesterday and I acted like an idiot. I’m sorry.”
Linc saw that there was a small keyboard on the table beside the bed. Frowning, he wondered if he should touch any of the buttons.
“It won’t do you any good to hide from me. You’ll have to come out for food sooner or later,” Jerlet was saying. “And I really want to help you, son. Really I do. The way I acted yesterday... well, I’ll explain it if you’ll give me a chance. At least turn on one of the screens so I can talk to you face to face... what in hell is your name, anyway. I know you told me, but you mentioned all those other names, too, and now I can’t remember... guess I’m getting old.”
Linc stepped across to the table where the keyboard buttons glowed in their different colors. He felt as if his head was spinning; not just from the low gravity, but from the effort to decide what he should do. Slowly, reluctantly, he reached out for the buttons.
“If you want to turn on a screen,” Jerlet was saying, “just punch the red button on any of the keyboards—”
Linc’s outstretched finger touched the red button. Jerlet’s haggard, stubbly face leaped into view on the wall screen across the room.
He was still saying earnestly, “I know I acted like a madman last night, but I can explain... oh, there you are!”
Linc gazed straight into Jerlet’s eyes. They looked sad now. The pain was still there, but it was deeper, covered over by sadness.
“Linc. My name is Linc.”
Jerlet bobbed his head eagerly, making his fleshy jowls bounce. “Yep, that’s right. Linc. You told me, but I couldn’t remember.”
Linc started to reply, but found that he had nothing to say.
Jerlet filled in the silence. “I see you’ve cleaned up and changed clothes. Good! How about meeting me in the autogalley? Got a lot of things to show you.”
“The autogalley?” Linc asked.
“The eating room. Where the food selector is.”
“Oh.... Okay.”
“Do you know how to find it from where you are?” Jerlet asked.
Linc nodded. “I can find it.”
“Okay, good. I’ll meet you there.” The old man seemed genuinely happy.
He was still smiling when he eased his bulk through the doorway of the autogalley and glided toward Linc. He stuck out a heavy, short-fingered hand.
“Linc, I dunno what kind of customs you kids have put together down in the living section, but it’s an old human custom for two men to shake hands when they meet.”
Thoroughly puzzled. Linc put his hand out.
•Jerlet waggled a finger at him. “No, no... the right hand.”
With a shrug, Linc raised his right hand and let Jerlet grasp it firmly. The old man’s a lot stronger than he looks, he realized.
“Good!” Jerlet beamed. “Now we’re formally met. Got so much to show you.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s start with the food selector. Show you how that works.”
They ate well. Jerlet showed Linc all sorts of new foods and tastes that he had never known before. As the food began to make a comfortable warm glow in his middle, Linc found his worries and suspicions about Jerlet melting away.
Then they were up and moving through the nearly weightless world of Jerlet. The old man showed Linc the power generators, the mysterious humming machines that kept electricity going out to all parts of the ship. Then the master computer, with its blinking lights and odd sing-song voices. And a room full of servomechs, standing stiffly at attention, mechanical arms at their sides, sensors turned off.
“Are they dead?” Linc asked, his voice hushed.
“You mean deactivated,” Jerlet replied in his normal booming tone. “Here... look, lemme show you.” He took a tiny control box from a shelf near the door and touched one of the buttons studding its top. The nearest servomech came to life. Its sensors glowed; it pivoted slightly to face Jerlet, moving on noiseless little wheels.
“See?” Jerlet said. “They all work fine.”
Linc shook his head. “Down in the Living Wheel they all died, a long time ago.”
Jerlet snorted. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that.”
He took Linc down the passageway and through a set of double doors into a strange, dead silent room. It felt odd. Linc knew he had never been here before, yet there was a faint odor of something that made his spine tingle and the back of his neck go shuddery. The room was filled with strange glass spheres, long looping tubes, viewscreens, desks, other things of glass and metal and plastic that Linc couldn’t even guess at.
“Genetics lab,” Jerlet said. His voice sounded odd; half-proud, half-sad. “This is where you were born, Linc. You and the others down in the living section.”
“Here?”
Jerlet nodded. “Yep. Took the sperm and ova from those cryofreezers, back behind the radiation shielding over there,” he pointed to a heavy-looking dull metal wall, “and brought the fetuses to term in these plastic capsules. All very carefully done, very scientifically. Each specimen picked for its genetic perfection. Each resulting infant nurtured as meticulously as the psychologists could hope. A generation of physically and mentally perfect children. Geniuses... left to live in an idiotic environment.”
Linc said, “I don’t understand you.”
Jerlet waved his pudgy hands about the laboratory.”! was in charge of the project. I made you. Right here. This is where you were all created. By me.”
10
Before Linc could ask any more questions, Jerlet swept him through the genetics lab and back out into the passageway.
“You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he said.
Totally puzzled by everything he’d seen and heard so far. Linc quietly followed the old man through a hatch into a tight little metal room. It felt cold and scary, like a deadlock. Bui even if he’s crazy, he wouldn’t put us both in a deadlock, Linc told himself. And a tiny voice asked back, Would he?
Jerlet’s massive bulk seemed to completely fill the metal chamber. Linc couldn’t breathe.
“Not too comfortable in here with both of us,” the old man muttered as he fingered a complicated row of buttons. “Not very comfy in here by myself, come to think of it.”
The top of the chamber swung open, and Linc realized it was another hatch. Jerlet grinned at him, then pushed against the sides of the chamber and floated up through the overhead hatch. Linc took a deep breath, glad to feel un-squeezed.
“Come on up and see the view!” Jerlet called. His voice suddenly sounded very distant and hollow.
Linc crouched slightly and sprang straight up. He shot through the open hatch and past Jerlet’s floating obesity—
And nearly screamed in terror. He was in the outer darkness! Surrounded by stars and the blackness of the outside where there was no air or warmth or----
He felt a hand grabbing at his ankle and Jerlet calling, “Hey, whoa, take it easy.” He realized that there was warmth and air to breathe.
Jerlet was chuckling as the two of them floated slowly in the star-flecked darkness. Yet it really wasn’t dark, either. The stars glowed all around them, over their heads, below their feet.
“What is this place?” Linc asked. His voice seemed to float, too, strange and hollow and lost in vast distance.
“Used to bean observatory,” Jerlet’s voice came back toward him, echoing.
Slowly, Linc’s eyes adjusted to the dim light. They were in a vast round room made almost entirely of glass: transparent plastiglass, actually, although Linc didn’t know that yet. The splendor of the stars surrounded them—stars powdering the blackness of infinity with endless points of light. White stars, blue stars, red stars, yellow stars... stars beyond counting, and even swirls and loops of brightness that glowed with strangely cool blues and pinks.
Linc felt his jaw hanging open as he floated in true weightlessness, hanging in the darkened observatory dome, gaping at the enormity of the universe.
And then he glanced downward, toward where his feet happened to be pointing, and saw the yellow star that was so close. He closed his eyes against its glare, but still its image burned against the inside of his eyelids.
“We’ll be there soon,” Jerlet’s voice sounded near to him.
Linc opened his eyes and saw the old man’s face next to him, haloed by the after-image of the yellow star. “It’s coming to swallow us,” Linc whispered. “It will kill us all in fire.”
Jerlet’s booming laughter surprised Linc. It echoed all around the huge dome.
“You’ve got it just about entirely wrong, son,” the old man said. “The yellow star isn’t coming toward us, we’re heading for it. And it’s not going to kill us—it offers us life. Hope. If we can get to it before this bucket falls completely apart!”
Linc started to say, I don’t understand, but it had become such an overworked Linc that he felt ashamed to use it again.
“C’mon down this way,” Jerlet tugged at his wrist, “and I’ll show you something.”
They swam weightlessly through empty air down to a patch of shadows that were deeper than the darkness of the rest of the dome. A spidery framework took shape as they approached, and Jerlet reached out a practiced hand for it.
“Careful,” he said to Linc. “Slow your speed or you’ll hurt yourself when you hit the deck. Just ‘cause you’ve got no weight doesn’t mean you’ve got no inertia.”
He can never say more than three words in a row that make sense. Linc thought. He always uses words I never heard before.
The deck was made of cold metal, and Linc could see that several desks and odd-looking instruments were attached to it. The biggest loomed far over their heads; the cylinder of metal struts that Jerlet had grabbed a few moments earlier.
“Telescopes,” Jerlet said. “Devil’s own time keeping them aligned right. Our closing rate is outrunning the old computer program and I haven’t figured out how to update it. Gyros must be wearing out, too.”
Linc shook his head and said nothing.
