The Depths of Time (76 page)

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Authors: Roger MacBride Allen

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BOOK: The Depths of Time
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If I exposed myself to a legal system that could not judge me, and was then thus killed, I could do no good to anyone at all. And I have great good to offer, prizes of knowledge and technology that I alone can give.


In other words, he didn

t just steal Baskaw

s work,

said Norla.

He found other discoveries he could grab. So what? And why should we believe him?


I can give one answer to both questions. He demonstrated faster-than-light travel,

said Koffield.

That

s what he

s offering as a
sample.
It suggests that the main course could be impressive. If we believe him. It could all be trickery.


He

s done a good job of making his cowardice look like courage,

Norla said.

He

s not afraid to come out and face us, or the people of Solace. He

s just afraid that if we kill him, someone else might get hurt, and he wouldn

t be in a position to do nice things for us.


I don

t know if I

d put it quite that way, but it sure sounds like he

s setting up his arguments for cutting a deal,

said Wandella.

But what

s the deal?

I
have much that I can offer, but much of what I can offer will not be accepted willingly. Drastic ideas will not be welcome until the situation is desperate. Until then, the doomsayers will be ignored, shoved to one side, reviled and punished.


Fine and noble words coming from him,

said Norla.
“He
punished me, punished everyone on the
DP-IV,
because he was afraid of
your doomsaying.”

Koffield nodded and read on,

The collapse of Solace is coming. I believe that now. But I also believe that it will serve as a wake-up call, a warning to all the worlds. The more people that know about Baskaw’s work, the more likely that they will believe and listen. I believe they will be ready by the time you find this letter. At last, they will listen. At last, they
can
listen. I have, therefore, enclosed copies of her work and yours with this letter, that you might be better able to communicate these ideas to others.


The son of a bitch!

Norla shouted.

He makes it sound like the height of generosity to give back what he stole.


Awfully decent of him,

Koffield agreed. The madman! The self-serving madman! He realized that his skin was flushed and his hands were sweating. But he had to keep control, keep calm. His vision seemed a bit clouded for some reason. He blinked and continued reading.

Seek me out. I live, but slumber. I am hidden, but hidden where you can find me. Find me, and together, we can do great things. With the knowledge I have gathered, and the skill, courage, and determination you have so often demonstrated, we can, I believe, defeat the doom to which Ulan Baskaw has sentenced us.


Seek him out?

Norla shouted.

The man who wrecked all our lives so completely? The man who made Solace a shambles, but didn

t have the courage to face the people he had hurt?


Faster-than-light travel,

said Anton Koffield.

Think of it. What would you not trade for that? Who would you refuse to deal with, in exchange for that prize?


Is there more?

Wandella asked.

Is that the end?


There

s more,

said Koffield.

I
have much to offer, and many secrets I can reveal when you find me, though I dare not tell them to you in this letter. There is, however, one last confession I must make. You have been blamed for Circum Central. Not just for losing the ships, but for sealing the wormhole. In the time in which I write, you are still reviled for this crime. Perhaps, even a century hence, that is how you will be remembered.


That

s putting it mildly,

Koffield said.

I

m not just remembered. I

m a monster.


Only to some,

said Wandella.

Most people have forgotten, or never knew.


Is that supposed to be comforting?

Koffield asked her, his long-contained anger nearly breaking free.

It isn

t.


I

m sorry. Go on with the letter.

The time has come for you to learn the truth. I cannot now explain their mission in detail, but I must tell you one thing about the ships you called the Intruders. Much was made of the fact that they first went
uptime
through the wormhole, from past to future. Why, many people wondered at the time, did they do this? Why run the risks and take the losses of sending robotic ships into the future, when all they would need to do is wait in normal space until they had reached the time in question?

There are two reasons. The first is fairly straight
forward. For various technical reasons, having mainly to do with their power systems, the ships would have deteriorated by then.
 
The second
reason was suggested now and then by the theory-spinners, but never much considered. The ships needed to do a calibration run, a passage through the wormhole that allowed them to get precise and detailed measurement of the wormhole’s structure.


Oh my God.

Koffield stared at the page, read the next paragraph or two silently, and felt his knees buckle. Anger and shock swept over him.

This is the worst,

he said, his voice suddenly no more than a whisper.

This next is the worst shock of all. Damn the man!


What is it?

Wandella asked.


My life wrecked,

Koffield said, anger helping him find his voice again.

My career wrecked. Marooned in time, not once, but twice, by Oskar DeSilvo. Pointed out as a killer.


‘Terrible Anthon closed up the sky Horrible Anthon made Glister die Closed up the sky, made Glister die, Made Glister die, no ship could fly Hideous Anthon closed up the sky.’


That

s about me. About me. Because I did my job. The Glisterns use my name to scare children. I am the criminal, the monster. And the great Oskar DeSilvo builds his own monuments, and they all tell me he

s a hero. And now. And now—


Read it,

Norla said.

Please. Read it out loud.

The ships needed this information in order to complete one element of their mission. I had sent them to perform several tasks

including the sealing of the Circum Central wormhole. It pains me to say it, but you must know, before you come to face me. If you had done nothing, nothing at all, if your ship had stood by, if your ship had not been there at all, my ships would have completed their work by entering the uptime end of the wormhole and
seating it, for all time.
They
were programmed to
shut it down. In all truth, I believe it is impossible to say whether they did the deed, or whether the
commands sent by your ship did the job. I cannot
now tell you why the deed was necessary. But I assure you that, if you had not acted, the deed would
have been done.

I could not reveal my part in the Circum. Central incident without compromising opera
tions of the utmost importance. It grieved me no
end to see the punishment you took, and the guilt
you carried in your soul because of deeds you did not do. It was my guilt on this point that led me
to approach you, and invite you to join my staff. The sequels to that gesture are, as you will know
as well as I, still being played out.

I am sorry. I offer you my sincere, heartfelt, and most humble apologies. Accept them or
refuse them as you will. Hate me, forgive me. Feel
what you will toward me, and I will accept it. There are larger matters at stake, and my own guilt and shame do not matter.

Only one thing does matter.

Seek me out.

With heartfelt respect, I remain

Your sincere admirer,

Doctor Oskar DeSilvo

Anton Koffield dropped the letter on the table, turned, and left the room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
 
The Depths of Time

Norla sat in the sterile, faceless compartment that served as her bedroom, there in the quarantine bunker, and debated with herself. Should she go and talk to Koffield? Three hours had passed since Anton had read DeSilvo

s letter to her and Wandella. He had shut himself up in his room immediately afterward and not come out since. Would it be wiser to let the man be, let him wrap himself in privacy, in control, and deal with the shocks, the insults, the cruelty of it all that way? Or should she force him to engage ia conversation, talk it through?

She had decided to let him be a half dozen times and changed her mind just as often. She did not know what to do, what was right.

But not to act was to decide. Settled Space was filled to bursting with the consequences of people who found reasons not to act, people who convinced themselves that doing whatever it took to avoid trouble was really the best, the wisest, the noblest course of action.

People like Oskar DeSilvo.

That
notion was enough to decide her. She had stood up and was reaching for the door latch when the knock came on the door. Wandella, probably. Norla had thought the woman had gone to sleep. Poor Wandella. She had had her worldview turned upside down as well, if not as severely as Anton.

She opened the door.


May I come in?

asked Anton Koffield.


Oh! Yes, yes, of course. I thought you were going to be Wandella. Please, come in.

She ushered Koffield in, closed the door behind him, gestured for him to take a seat on the chair, and took a seat herself on the bunk. She was not particularly surprised that he didn

t sit.

He stood before her, in the same style of shapeless plain brown coveralls that she wore, all they issued for clothing in the quarantine ward. Somehow he wore them with a brisk, military air. He folded his arms and smiled sadly down at her.


It hasn

t been an easy day,

he said.

None of them has been easy. Not since we got to Solace.


They haven

t been easy for you for a lot longer than that,

Norla said.


No,

he agreed. He turned and stared at the blank steel wall next to the door for a moment.

They haven

t. And after what we learned, what
I
learned today, somehow now they seem even worse. I had just convinced myself that it was all blind bad luck, forces beyond my control. Now I know. Now I know what it was.
Who
it was. I have never been so angry in my life. I will go on being angry for a very long time.

Anton gestured upward with a grand sweep of his.arm, as if to indicate all of space.

All the stories, all the lies are out there. They have a hundred-and-twenty-seven-year head start on the truth. And the truth will never catch up. When I go to my grave, the ancestors of today

s GHsterns will not just believe, they will
know,
as absolutely certain fact, that
Horrible Anthon made Glister die.
And they

ll raise a toast to Oskar DeSilvo, who built the planet Solace and gave them a place of refuge.


But maybe even that isn

t the worst. I thought I was a free man, acting as I saw fit. But all that time, I was a rat in DeSilvo

s maze, walking in the path he set for me, falling into the traps he set. I was his puppet. Even now, he pulls the strings, from a hundred years and light-years away, and my muscles twitch, and I move in the way he bids me.

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