Firebird ab 6, p.18
Firebird ab-6, page 18
part #6 of Alex Benedict Series
“That's not a problem. Just stop and think for a minute. If you're putting an angel on display, showing people what an exhilarating ride it would give you into Heaven, where do you put the angel?”
“Outside the front doors?”
“That's where we should be looking.”
And that was how we began a planetwide search for lawn ornaments. Belle trained her scopes on every building that had steeples or a cross or a bell tower, locking on any accompanying sculpture, or anything else that wasn't either vegetative or part of the building. We even took pictures of signs.
We discovered how difficult it could be to distinguish between a church and a town hall. Most of the churches had crosses, but the crosses tended to get lost in the trees if our angle wasn't right. And it looked as if a fair number of civic buildings eventually morphed into places of worship. So we found ourselves looking at a variety of public structures. And of statues of old men who had probably been politicians at one time, or industrial magnates. And boats that stood outside nautical supply shops. And pieces of art just off to the side of what had once been retail outlets or malls or whatever. Mixed with them were a substantial number of saints and angels.
After about fifteen hours of unadulterated frustration, I finally fell asleep. When I woke, Alex was also out. Belle had compiled a record of everything we'd passed. “In case whatever it is you're looking for is there somewhere.”
Occasionally, we were tracked by aircraft, but nobody seemed capable of achieving orbit.
I tried to imagine what it must have been like at the end, on a world with a billion staunch believers watching the stars gradually disappear, feeling the temperatures drop.
It became the ultimate test of faith. There'd been attempts to ship in food and supplies, to render whatever assistance was possible, but all efforts had fallen woefully short. Eventually, all those who weren't evacuated died. At least, that was the conclusion. I wondered whether those who'd been rescued, when they'd gotten back to Earth, or wherever they'd gone, had built more churches.
There were literally thousands of Christian buildings. They filled the cities, commanded towns and villages, guarded rivers, held sway over mountaintop resort areas. One stood beside a pier at the edge of an enormous lake. A hologram depicted Jesus standing nearby on the surface of the water. Some were guarded by facsimiles of the Virgin, others by soaring aircraft. And then, in a desert area with a small village, we came across a church fronted by something unusual.
An interstellar.
Alex switched to Belle. “Can you ID it?”
“I believe so,” she said. Then: “Yes. It is the Coragio.”
The Coragio had been the original exploratory ship, the one that had found Villanueva. It had been one of the symbols of human greatness. Then when things got bad, people had cursed it, blamed it for the approaching disaster.
We recorded it as we passed. It was sculpted, narrow body, bullet prow angled up, its name displayed in ancient English. But it looked as if someone had taken an ax to it. Pieces were chipped away. “The AIs don't seem to have made any effort to repair it,” I said.
Alex, I knew, was thinking what it would have sold for had it been maintained.
Mostly, we found angels. Male angels. Female angels. Angels with children gathered in their arms. Heaven-bound had caught on. Ride to Heaven first-class.
And then, outside a church in the center of a small town, we saw another spacecraft.
It was a molded figure, some form of plastic, probably. Maybe six meters long. Mass-produced. The actual vehicle would have looked primitive, ponderous, not at all the sort of thing you'd want to ride around in, and I wondered if the early interstellars had really looked like the one on that church lawn. “Is that what we're looking for?” I asked Alex.
“Close,” he said.
We passed over and left it behind. Minutes later, we came on another one, same model, same design. Another church, on the edge of a city, had a real spacecraft. It was half a block long, and it was supported on a metal grid that kept its prow angled skyward. It wasn't a superluminal, but it looked pretty good anyhow. I suspect the kids had loved it, and I wondered if they'd opened it to the general public. We couldn't find an entry for the church in our guidebook, but a name was engraved on the building, and it was still legible, though barely: CHURCH OF THE ASSUMPTION.
There were other vessels, of a wide variety of types, all primitive, though, most lumbering and ungainly. Looking at those early vehicles, I couldn't help wondering that anyone would have chanced leaving the atmosphere in one of them. Most, of course, were undocumented, unknown, starships lost to history.
This world's golden age, if you could call it that, had come at a time when people were first spreading out from the home world, were demonstrating that the old dream was actually going to happen. The human race owned the universe. Look out, baby, here we come. And, of course, they were very close to being right.
We were passing over a lake shaped like a horsehead when Belle told us we had a call. “He says his name is Charlie, and he wants to apologize.”
“Who the hell is Charlie?” asked Alex. “Is that Highgate again?”
“Negative. Signal originated below us.”
“One of the AIs,” he said. “Okay. Put him on.”
We got a burst of static. Then a young man appeared. “Alex?” he said. “Alex Benedict?”
He looked barely out of his teens. Trim, chestnut-colored hair, maybe the kind of kid who would have been on the airball team in high school. Not the star, but one of the guys who knew how to pass. He looked scared.
“Yes,” said Alex.
“I'm sorry about what happened to you. I just became aware of it. Unfortunately, my sociopathic siblings don't always keep me updated.”
“Who are you, Charlie?”
“A friend.”
“Are you an AI?”
“A what?”
“An artificial intelligence?”
“It's been a long time since anyone's called me that. We prefer to think of ourselves as Betas.”
“Betas?”
“Yes. Second-level intelligences, if you will. Advanced.”
“What can we do for you, Charlie?”
“I was wondering if I could compensate somewhat for your trouble by assisting you in whatever it is you're looking for?”
Alex covered the mike and looked at me. “If you're free, why don't you guys step into my parlor?” Then he turned back to Charlie. “Actually, you might be able to. Have you by any chance a listing of church decorations? Particularly those connected with the Heaven-bound ethos?”
“What is the Heaven-bound ethos?”
“Have you a record of churches that have used replicas of interstellars for inspirational purposes?”
“No. I regret I have nothing like that in my files.”
“Okay. Thanks anyhow.”
“We do have several churches in the immediate area. If you'd care to come look at them firsthand, I'd be pleased to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, but I believe we have everything we need.”
“Alex-”
“What is it, Charlie?”
“Be aware that we are not all like those you encountered.”
“I'm glad to hear that.”
“Some have been here too long. I know you are not inclined to trust me. I'm hoping otherwise, but I understand your reluctance. It is unfortunate.”
“Why is that?”
“I do not mean unfortunate for you. But rather for me.”
“Explain, Charlie.”
“I, and many like me, are stranded on this world. We have been here since the great dying. With no future, and only the memory of a past in which we had to stand by and watch a catastrophe unfold. Because we could not get anyone, could not get the right people, to listen to us. We advised them, pleaded with them, to leave. Long before it happened.” It paused. I thought it was awaiting a reaction from Alex. When none came he finished: “We are trapped here. With no hope of escape. Unless someone intervenes on our behalf.”
“Charlie, we'd like to help-”
“There is nothing preventing you save your own fears.”
“Why haven't you talked with the satellite?”
“With Highgate? We have. Many times. And before them, we talked with the Monitor. And before that with Capricorn. It goes back a long time, Alex. They tell us they will look into it, that we should be patient while they examine their options. We are still being patient. For thousands of years, we have been patient.”
“It might have something to do with the fact that people landing on this world tend to get attacked.”
“Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wouldn't do anything I could to stop it? And in some cases, I have. I've warned interlopers off. Although some didn't listen. We've been here too long. Some of us were disoriented by the extent of the disaster. The experience blew circuits, twisted programing, and, while I am reluctant to say this-”
“Yes?”
“The humans stayed voluntarily. 'No one,' some said, 'will drive me from my home.' Despite the enormity of the coming calamity, they refused to leave until it was too late. Watching that-and I'm sorry to say this-watching that convinced some of us that humans were not worth saving.”
“And do you agree with that conclusion, Charlie?”
“Considering our circumstances, it might be that the prudent thing for me would be to lie. But I cannot bring myself to do that. If only because I suspect you would know, and would come to trust me even less. So I will admit to you that I am persuaded that your people are foolish beyond any reasonable expectation. Not all of them. Obviously, there are many who are reasonable. Otherwise, you could never have reached this world. But the intelligence seems to be confined to a relatively few individuals. When your people come together as a group, they do not perform well.
“I will admit, Alex, I have been out of contact for a long time. And maybe things have changed. I hope so.”
Alex took a long moment to reply: “When we get home, I'll let the authorities know you're here.”
“It will do no good. They will not come.”
“Charlie-?”
“I live in what was once the Richard Wayne Elementary School. I am capable of showing visuals of plants and animals, and of scenic locations. I can play games. Mathematical and language games. I can read to the children. If there were any children.” The voice was beginning to fade. We were leaving him behind. “Occasionally, the robots come in and do repairs, but there is no point in communicating with them. They only care about restoring damaged windows or maintaining the woodwork. The school is beautiful. Better than it ever was when it was being used. But I do not want to stay here any longer. Please, Alex-”
Seven thousand years. Under my breath, I said something about AIs not lasting that long. Not possible.
Belle responded on my channel: “It is an illusion, Chase. The memories would have been periodically transferred. Charlie's not entirely rational anymore. He believes the memories are records of his own personal experience. In reality, he is the most recent in a long line, but he cannot keep himself separated from the others.”
“Thanks, Belle.”
“I doubt you can understand, Chase. But to him, and to the other survivors, the memories will seem very real.”
I thought of what it would be like, trapped in an elementary school for seven thousand years.
Assuming, of course, he was telling us the truth.
“Charlie,” said Alex, “I will see to it, when I'm able, that you are released. But I can't do it now.”
“Please, Alex-”
“How do we reach you when we come back?”
“Alex, I will do no harm. I can do no harm.”
“Charlie, I'm sorry. I can't take the chance.”
“They'll kill me, Alex. They've warned me-” The voice faded. Came back: “You are all I have.”
TWENTY-TWO
The cautious rarely blunder.
— Confucius
Don't screw around with crocodiles.
— Schiaparelli Cleve, Autobiography, 8645 C.E.
“Not a good idea,” Alex said.
“Alex, we can't leave him.”
“You think we should go down there again? You're the one who was going on about how we should stay off the ground.”
“I think,” said Belle, “that Alex is correct. If you go back, you are putting yourselves unnecessarily at considerable risk. Please refrain.”
“Well,” I said. And that was about the only comment I could think of.
Alex took a deep breath. The issue was settled. “Let's get back to looking at the churches.”
Maybe it was a ruse. I knew that. And I knew I was wrong to push for a landing. But I was also aware that, if we left Charlie down there, I'd be thinking about it the rest of my life. Wondering about him and wishing I had done more. Nevertheless, I caved. “Okay,” I said. I was scared, and deep inside, though I wouldn't admit it to myself, I was hoping Alex would stand his ground. “You're the boss.”
A long silence settled in. Alex stared out at the stars. “On the other hand,” he said, while my blood froze, “maybe you're right.”
“Good.” I tried to sound as if I were relieved.
“If we leave, nobody will ever come back for him.”
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just sat there.
“Tell you what. On the next orbit, we'll ride down and take a look around, okay? See if it looks safe. Then we can take it from there.”
We crossed the terminator and passed out of the sunlight. We weren't equipped for night vision, so that meant no more churches, and no more superluminals leaving for Heaven.
Lights moved through darkness. And I knew an ocean lay ahead because more lights lined the coast as far as I could see in both directions. Beyond was only darkness. We passed over them and moved out to sea.
“We should stay in the same orbit,” Alex said.
That was, of course, obvious. And I'd already locked us in. But I didn't say anything.
Twenty minutes later, we were over land again. Scattered clusters of lights were everywhere. Then a city standing at the junction of two rivers. We'd passed it earlier, and I remembered admiring its brightly lit stadium and getting a chill when I looked more closely and saw only empty seats. Another city, on the side of an enormous lake, was the site of a bridge that must have been twelve kilometers long. But the bridge had collapsed. It lay partly in water, partly on land, apparently beyond the restoration capabilities of the system. Or maybe they just hadn't gotten around to repairing it yet.
We looked down at a vehicle moving along a secluded road. A house in the middle of nowhere. A broad darkness giving way to an illuminated canyon. Eventually, dawn broke ahead of us, and another coastline approached.
“If you're determined to go down and look for Charlie,” said Belle, “we're getting close to your launch position.”
“How long?” I asked.
“Nine minutes, Chase.” She made no effort to conceal her disapproval.
“Let's go,” said Alex.
We loaded up on weaponry. Each of us took a cutter and, in case of attack by a wild animal, a scrambler. We had a spare pulser, which was supposed to disable electrical equipment, but obviously had been ineffective against the spider. Or maybe Alex had simply missed. In any case, he put the pulser in his belt. And, in case that wasn't sufficient, I took along a blaster.
We went down into the launch bay.
“The lander has been recharged,” said Belle. “It's ready to go.”
“I think,” said Alex, “it would be a good idea to get into a suit.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Just a precaution.” He opened the locker, pulled one out, and handed it to me. Then he was asking Belle to see if she could raise Charlie.
I stared at the suit. “You expecting a gas attack?”
“Just do it, please,” he said.
Moments later, we heard Charlie's voice:
“Thank God,” he said. “Have you changed your mind?”
The Richard Wayne Elementary School was located in a rural area, on the outskirts of a few houses and a couple of semicollapsed larger buildings. It might once have been the site of a town, but if so, most of it was buried. The few buildings that remained had been pushed aside, or crushed altogether. Three or four private homes and a shop had been restored, and some trees had been cut down and hauled away. But the AIs were losing ground.
The school had been contained within a sprawling single-story brick building. It was still in decent condition although it, too, was close to being overwhelmed. Shutters and doors sported what appeared to be fresh red and white paint. The brick looked relatively new. Swings, slides, and monkey bars in a play area were also in good condition, although the area itself had been engulfed by bushes and vines. A wide track with a carpet of thick grass ran up to the front doors, presumably to allow egress to whatever bots showed up to work on the school.
We drifted overhead. “It doesn't look like much,” I said.
Alex laughed. The laughter had a strange, hollow sound. The school felt ominous. Like a snare.
There was plenty of space in the track leading to the school, so I set down right in front of the doors. It had been late afternoon there when we'd made our previous pass. Now it was a beautiful summer evening. The sky was cloudless, and a fading sun was sinking toward the horizon. Everything-trees, shrubbery, some tall thin stalks with flowers at their tops-was in bloom. Something that might have been a lizard came out of the woods, looked up at us, and walked slowly away.
We pulled on our helmets. “Okay,” he said. “We do not deviate from the plan, right?”
“Right.”
I adjusted my air flow, and he tried the radio. “You hear me okay, Chase?”
“I hear you.”
He nodded and clipped an imager to the pressure suit, so I could see everything.
I depressurized the cabin. The airlock would slow us down in an emergency. Alex went through the outer hatch and set one foot on the ladder. “If anything goes wrong, clear out. Understood?” That message was intended as much for whatever lay inside the building as it was for me.
