Infinite Day (105 page)

That night, after supper, a lieutenant offered to show Merral some of the archaeological remains they had discovered. Finding a brief moment of quiet and feeling the need for some exercise, Merral decided to take ten minutes off. The lieutenant walked him down a long, winding corridor off the main bunker, discoursing on the inscriptions and artifacts they had found. Struck more forcibly than he had expected by what he had seen, Merral eventually thanked the lieutenant and returned to the main bunker.

Two hours later as Merral had just lain down on his mattress to sleep, he was summoned to a secure link with a seated and weary-looking Ethan.
More bad news
.

“Merral, I'm at Gate Central here. A couple of the Silverfish vessels are heading to Gate Three. I don't think I've got any option except to shut down the Gate system. That has the bonus that we can divert all our defensive forces to intercepting the ships heading for Earth. You concur?”

“Yes.”
What else can I say?

“I thought you would. I asked half an hour ago for every Gate to start to close down and let any final flights come through. They should all be clear very soon, and the moment they are, I will switch off every Gate within two hundred light-years and switch control to Tahuma. Then I shall leave here, and we will blow this place up.”

Ethan sat back in the chair and stared at Merral with a solemn face. “Soon only Tahuma Control can open the Gates, and that only on my command. I have sent a message around the Assembly encouraging faith and prayer and resistance. It may be the last contact for some time.” He sighed. “Oh, I wish there were another way. But there isn't. I have no idea of the future. The details of the
Sacrifice
have been sent on in case we fall. The worlds may use the design.”

Merral had a sense that with Ethan, frailty was close at hand but, for the moment, held firmly at bay.

“Maybe there will be a long war. Perhaps they may decide to go into exile. It will not be my decision.”

“We may win.”

“Indeed. We mustn't neglect that possibility.” Ethan looked up at someone off camera. “Enough of my words. The Gates are clear.” He gave an order. “Close down the Gates and set the charges.”

Ethan gave Merral a humorless smile. “Well, we are alone. As are the majority of the Assembly worlds.”

With the exception of the worlds toward the galactic center, where a limited Gate system will still exist, it will now take on average a fifty-year round trip for anything more than the briefest conversation to occur between our planets. In a sense, the Assembly as a union of worlds has ceased to exist
.

Ethan said, with a look of sour humor, “There is one bright point: my administrative load is now vastly reduced.” He stared at Merral. “Well, soldier, we can only do what we have to do.”

Merral was awoken before dawn on Thursday morning. The news was alarming: although the Blade was continuing on the predicted trajectory, a dozen vessels, including the two that had started toward Gate Three, were now accelerating toward Earth. From their speed and paths, it was felt they could be in position to launch a ground landing within fifty-five hours.

Merral rubbed his eyes, checked the clock, and did the calculations.
An attack as early as Saturday midday, possibly as much as a dozen hours before Amethyst is fired. We have a deadline a full day earlier than the one we were struggling to meet
.

He got up, prayed, and dressed, then considered his options. At seven he summoned all the team leaders, broke the news that they could expect the attack much earlier than they had planned, and sent them to work.

Merral spent almost all of Thursday in the Circle holding meetings, running more simulations, and making plans. In the early afternoon, accompanied by Lloyd, he made a brief foray around the waterlogged and still rain-lashed site. He was encouraged by the visible progress in some places and discouraged by the delays elsewhere.

He was at the southern perimeter, watching an attempt to pull a stuck earthmover out of the mud, when he had a message that an important shipment had arrived for him. He returned to the main runway, driving past the long lines of personnel and equipment disembarking from a giant transport. At the storage area, overflowing with crates, he was shown to a door guarded by armed men. A slight, dark-skinned figure came alongside him.

“Vero!” His friend was not in uniform; a fact that here seemed to make him conspicuous.

“At your service.”

“Where have you come from?”

“From going to and fro in the earth. I thought I'd better turn up for Betafor.”

Merral turned to Lloyd. “Ready for your old friend, Sergeant?”

Lloyd tapped a finger on his gun barrels. “Of course, sir.”

“Don't be too hasty, Sergeant.”

Vero raised a hand in a warning gesture. “She doesn't know about Amethyst. And she mustn't know. And let me deal with her. As we agreed.”

They walked past the guards and through the door. Inside, a green figure was sitting on a box, facing away, with the perfect immobility of a statue. After a second, the head rotated smoothly toward them.

“Commander, Sentinel,” Betafor said, looking around. “And . . . Sergeant Enomoto” Then she tilted her head at Merral. “How are you, Commander?”

“As well as can be expected. Welcome to Earth.”

“Thank you. I had no expectation of ever being here.”

“I'm sorry we can't take you to see the sights.” Merral paused, struck by something. “I've never asked: do you have curiosity? to see things like old buildings and historic places?”

Betafor gazed at him. “A significant question. Allenix would never be tourists; we have no idle curiosity. Nevertheless, there is a recognition that the firsthand data gathered by being in a place is superior to relying on secondhand data. This is particularly so with Earth and places like Jerusalem. Human beings seem to become even more irrational in these places. Descriptions cease to be factual: they become emotional outbursts.”

“Thank you for that insight,” Merral said, aware that Vero was grinning.
I suppose I am peculiarly privileged to have heard our species criticized by both an angel and a machine
.

“As you are the first Allenix here, I feel there ought to be a reception for you. But I thought secrecy might be best.”
For you and for us.

“I agree.”

“Are you aware of the situation?” Merral asked.

“Yes. I have followed events.”

“Comments?”

“I am learning that you defy statistics, but this time, the outlook is not good. It does seem that there will be an attack here in forty-eight hours.”

“It seems likely. Now, Betafor, our relationship is a little unclear. Vero is going to clarify it.”

Vero stepped forward. “B-Betafor, your agreement with us was voided by that . . . incident on the
Sacrifice
. However, the commander and I feel that you have served us well, and we are inclined to set you free.”

Merral hesitated and then nodded agreement.

“Thank you.”

“But we need you over the next few days. We need all the communications help we can get. We want you to stay.”

“You wish me to . . .
volunteer
?”

“Yes.”

The smooth eyes turned from Vero to Merral and then back again.
What is she thinking?

“And if I survive any battle, what happens to me?”

Vero gave a taut smile. “We would offer you a full pardon and citizenship in the Assembly.”

Merral tried to stop himself from starting with surprise.
Can we do that?

Betafor flexed her lips. “Sentinel, my understanding is that the Assembly doesn't recognize the right of synthetic intelligences to become citizens.”

Vero raised a finger. “
Aah!
The basis for that ancient ruling is the logic that no one can be ordered to join a free society. And because machines only obey orders, a machine cannot be a citizen. But by voluntarily agreeing to join us, you would demonstrate you have free will, and so you'd prove that you are a special case.”

“And what happens if I do not volunteer?”

“We don't release you from your duty.”

“So I have . . . to serve you anyway. So there is no advantage in refusing the invitation to be a volunteer?”

“None.”

“So I am being . . . forced to be a volunteer?”

“Yes. It's a catch-22.”

“What?” said Betafor.

“What?” said Merral.

“A vital military principle the ancients invoked in time of war. The element of choice is removed.”

Betafor turned to Merral. “Commander, my circuitry does not allow me to sigh. If it did, I would. You have . . . criticized me for being negative about human logic. Do you see my difficulties?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good. Then reluctantly I volunteer to help.”

“Thank you, Vero,” Merral said. “One last thing, Betafor. I hope you don't take it as an insult that Lloyd may be assigned to watch over you.”

“I shall be delighted to have his presence.”

“Was that irony, Betafor?”

“No. A lie.”

They left Betafor in the guarded room, and outside, Merral turned to Vero. “Another conversation for future philosophers to delight in.”

Vero gave a careless shrug. “She had to give in; she was between a rock and a hard place.”

“What does that mean?
Exactly
?”

Vero looked thoughtful. “Actually . . . you know, I'm not sure.”

“I'll have her moved up late tonight to the command bunker. That will keep the number of people who know of her low. Where are the skimmers?”

“They were too big to fit any freighter that can land here. They're at a landing strip to the south, where by now they ought to be hidden in hangars.”

“They may be better there.”
This runway may fall early in an attack
. “The armor?”

“Sent up to your quarters.”