The Ships of Earth: Homecoming: Volume 3 (46 page)

“So they didn’t plan well at all,” said Nafai, “since those programs were at your very core.”

〈You mustn’t judge them harshly. It never occurred to them that it would take even a million years for their children’s children to learn peace and be worthy to enter this place and learn all about advanced technologies. How could they guess that century after century, millennium after millennium, the humans of Harmony would never learn peace, would never cease trying to rule over one another by force or deception? I was never meant to keep this place closed off for even a million years, let alone forty million. So they built well indeed—the flaws and failures in my secret core were not fatal, were they? After all, you’re here, aren’t you?〉

Nafai remembered his terror when he had had no air to breathe, and wasn’t sure that they hadn’t cut it all a little fine.

“Where are
you?”
asked Nafai.

〈All around you.〉

Nafai looked, and saw nothing in particular.

〈The sensors there, in the ceiling—those are how I see you right now, and hear you, besides my ways of seeing through your eyes, and hearing your words before you say them. Behind all these walls are bank after bank of static memory—all of that is my self. The machinery pumping air through these underground passages—they are also me.〉

“Then why did you need me at all?” asked Nafai.

〈You are the one who broke me out of my loop and opened up my vision to include my own heart, and you ask me that?〉

“Why do you need me
now?”

〈I also need you—all of you—because the Keeper has sent you dreams. The Keeper wants you, and so I will bring you.〈

“Why do you need
me?
” he asked, clarifying the question even further.

〈Because my robots were all controlled by a place in my memory that has become completely untrustworthy. I
have shut them down because they were reporting falsely to me. No one ship of these six has a fully uncorrupted memory. I need you to collect and test the memory in every part of the ships and bring good memory together until we have one perfect ship. I can’t do this myself—I have no hands.〉

“So I’m here to replace broken machines.”

〈And I need you to pilot the starship.〉

“Don’t tell me you can’t do that yourself.”

〈Your ancestors did not let their starships pass completely under the control of computers like me, Nafai. There must be a starmaster on every ship, to give command. I will carry out those commands, but the ship will be yours.
I
will be yours.〉

“Not me,” said Nafai. “Father should do this.”

〈Volemak didn’t come here. Volemak didn’t open this place.〉

“He would have, if he’d known.”

〈He knew what you knew. But you acted. These things are not accidental, Nafai. It isn’t coincidence that you are here and no one else is. If Volemak had found this place and forced his way in, risking his own life for the sake of coming here, then he would wear the cloak. Or Elemak, or Zdorab—whoever came would have that responsibility. It was you. It is yours.〉

Almost Nafai said, I don’t want it. But that would be a lie. He wanted it with his whole heart. To be the one chosen by the Oversoul to pilot the starship, even though he knew nothing about piloting anything—that would be wonderful. More glory and accomplishment than he ever dreamed of in his childhood. “I’ll do it then,” said Nafai, “as long as you show me how it’s done.”

〈You can’t do it without tools. I can give you some of them, and teach you how to make the rest. And you can’t do it without help.〉

“Help?”

〈There will be thousands of memory plates to move from one ship to another. You will grow old and die if you try to do it all yourself. Your whole village will need to
work together, if we are to have a reliable starship that contains all of the memory that I will need to bring to the Keeper of Earth.〉

At once Nafai tried to imagine Elemak doing any job under his direction, and he laughed aloud. “If that’s so, then you’d better put someone else in charge. They won’t follow me.”

〈They will.〉

“Then you don’t understand human nature very well after all,” said Nafai. “The only reason we’ve had peace among us these past few years is that I’ve stayed pretty much in my place, as far as Elya is concerned. If I suddenly come back and tell them that I’m the starmaster and they have to help me put together a starship ...”

〈Trust me.〉

“Yeah, right. I always have, haven’t I?”

〈Open the door.〉

Nafai opened the door and stepped into a dimly lighted room. The door closed behind him, shutting off much of what light there had been. Blinking, Nafai soon grew accustomed to the dimmer light and saw that in the middle of the room, hanging in the air with no obvious means of support, was a block of—what, ice?

〈Much of it is water.〉

Nafai approached it, reached out, touched it. His finger went in easily.

〈As I said. Water.〉

“How does it hold this shape, then?” asked Nafai. “How does it float in the air?”

〈Why should I explain, when in a few moments the memory will be yours just for the thinking of it?〉

“What do you mean?”

〈Pass through the water and you will emerge wearing the cloak of the starmaster. When that is in place, linked to you, then all my memories will be yours, as if they had been yours all along.〉

“A human mind could never hold such information,” said Nafai. “Your memory includes forty million years of history.”

〈You will see.〉

“Having Father’s memory of his vision in my mind almost drove me mad,” said Nafai. “Won’t that happen this time, having yours?”

〈I will be with you as I have never been with you before.〉

“Will I still be
myself
?”

〈You will be more yourself than ever before.〉

“Do I have a choice?”

〈Yes. You can choose to refuse this. Then I will bring another, and she
will
pass through the water, and then
she
will be starmaster.〉

“She? Luet?”

〈Does it matter? Once you have chosen not to be starmaster, what right do you have to concern yourself with the person I then choose to take your place?〉

Nafai stood there, looking at the miraculous block of water resting in the air, and thought: This is less dangerous than passing through the barrier, and I did
that.
He also thought: Could I bear to follow the starmaster, knowing for the rest of my life that I
could
have been starmaster, and refused? And then: I have trusted the Oversoul so far. I have killed for it; I have nearly died for it. Will I now refuse to take the leadership of this voyage?

“How do I do it?” asked Nafai.

〈Don’t you know? Don’t you remember when Luet told you of her vision?〉

Only now, with the Oversoul’s reminder, did Nafai remember what Luet had said, of seeing him sink down into a block of ice and emerge from the bottom, glowing and sparkling with light. He had thought it had some metaphorical meaning. But here was the block of ice.

“I sink down from the top,” said Nafai. “How do I get above this?”

Almost at once, a meter-wide platter skimmed across the floor toward him. Nafai understood that he was to stand on it. But when he did, nothing happened.

〈Your clothing will interfere.〉

So he removed his clothing for the second time that day.
Doing so reminded him of all the scratches and bruises he had suffered from the buffeting of the wind. Naked, he stepped again on the disk. Almost at once it rose straight up into the air and carried him above the block.

〈Step off onto the water. It will support you like a floor.〉

Having just put his finger easily into the side of the block, Nafai had his doubts, but he did as he was told—he stepped onto the surface of the block. It was smooth, but not slippery; like the surface of the barrier, it seemed to be moving in every direction at once under his feet.

〈Lie down on your back.〉

Nafai lay down. Almost at once the surface under him changed, and he began to sink down into the water. Soon it would cover his face, he realized. He wouldn’t be able to breathe. The memory of his recent suffocation was still fresh inside him—he began to struggle.

〈Peace. Sleep. You’ll not lack for air, or anything else. Sleep. Peace.〉

And he slept as he sank down into the water.

Elemak was surprised to find that it was Shedemei at the door. All things were possible, of course—she might actually be coming here to join him. But he doubted it—it was far more likely that she was here to try to negotiate some settlement on Rasa’s behalf. In which case she wasn’t a bad choice as an emissary. He had nothing against her, and she had no awkward family connections. Besides, hadn’t she and Zdorab stood up at the end of the meeting, accepting Elemak’s authority to dismiss it? It was worth hearing what she had to say.

So he ushered her in and let her sit down at the table, along with Meb, Obring, and Vas. Then, when she was seated, Elemak sat across from her and waited. Let
her
speak first, and thus let him know what to expect from her.

“Everyone advised me against coming to you,” she said. “But I think they underestimate you, Elemak.”

“They have before,” said Elemak.

Meb chuckled. That annoyed Elemak—he wasn’t sure whether Meb was laughing at
them
for having underestimated
Elemak, or laughing at Elemak for making such a claim. One was
never
sure, with Meb, whom he was mocking. Only that he was mocking
somebody.

“There are some important things that you seem not to understand,” said Shedemei. “And I think you need to know
everything
in order to make wise decisions.”

Ah. So she was here to teach him about “reality.” Well, it was worth listening, if only so he could better plan how to undercut her position at the next meeting. He nodded for her to continue.

“This isn’t a conspiracy to take authority away from you.”

Right, thought Elemak. You start out by denying it, and you’ve as good as confirmed to me that that’s
exactly
what’s going on.

“Most of us know that you’re the natural leader of this group, and with some exceptions, we’re content with it.”

Oh yes. “Some” exceptions indeed.

“And the exceptions are more among
your
followers than you imagine. Here at this table there is more hatred and jealousy of you than has ever been found among those who gather in the Index House.”

“Enough of that,” said Elemak. “If you came here to try to sow distrust among those of us who are trying to protect our families from the meddlers, then you can leave now.”

Shedemei shrugged. “I’ve said it, you’ve heard it, I care little what you do with the information. But here’s the fact: The only person you’re fighting right now is the Oversoul.”

Meb hooted once. Shedemei ignored him.

“The Oversoul has at last got access to the starships. It’s going to take a massive effort by all of us to cannibalize five of the ships to make one ship ready to fly. But it’s going to be done, whether you approve or not. The Oversoul is hardly going to let you block her now, when she’s come so far.”

Elemak heard with amusement the way Shedemei persisted
in referring to the inanimate computer as if it were a woman.

“When Nafai returns, he’s going to be wearing the starmaster’s cloak. It’s a device that links him almost perfectly to the memory of the Oversoul. He’s going to know far more about you than you know about yourself, do you understand me? And there are other powers that come along with the cloak—a focus of energy, for one thing, that makes the pulse look like a toy.”

“Is this a threat?” asked Elemak.

“I’m telling you the simple truth. The Oversoul chose Nafai because he has the intelligence to pilot the ship, the loyalty to serve the Oversoul’s cause well, and the strength of will that broke down a supposedly impenetrable barrier and allowed the expedition to continue.
Not
because Nafai was conspiring against you. If you had ever shown a scrap of loyalty to the Oversoul’s cause, she might have chosen
you”.

“Do you think pathetic flattery like this will move me?”

“I’m not flattering you,” said Shedemei. “I already said—we know you’re the born leader of this company. But you’ve chosen
not
to be the leader of the Oversoul’s expedition. That was your
own
choice, freely made. So when it comes down to it, when you realize that you have lost the leadership of this group forever, you can blame no one but yourself.”

He felt anger growing within him.

“Nor would you have been the second choice,” said Shedemei. “There was some doubt that Nafai would accept the cloak—for the very reason that he knew you would reject his leadership. At that point the Oversoul made her second choice. She asked
me
whether I would accept the burden of leadership. She explained to me more about what the cloak does and how it works than she even explained to Nafai, though by now he undoubtedly knows all. I accepted the offer. If it hadn’t been Nafai, it would have been me. Not you, Elemak. You did not miss this great office narrowly. You were never in the running, because you rejected the Oversoul from the start.”

“Perhaps you had better leave now,” said Elemak softly.

“But this doesn’t mean that you can’t have a valued, important role in the community,” she went on, seeming not to hear him, seeming not to notice that he boiled with rage. “Don’t force the issue, don’t force Nafai to humiliate you in front of the others. Instead work with him, and he will gladly let you take as much of the leadership as the Oversoul will let him surrender to you. I don’t think you’ve ever realized how Nafai worships you. How he has always wished he could be like you. How he has longed for your love and respect more than that of any other person.”

“Get out of my house,” said Elemak.

“Very well,” said Shedemei. “I see that you are a person who refuses to revise his view of the world. You can only bear to live in a world where all the bad things that happen to you are someone else’s fault, where everyone must have conspired against you to deprive you of what is your due.” She rose and walked to the door. “Unfortunately, that world happens not to be the
real
world. And so you four will sit here and conspire to take over the rule of Dostatok, and it will come to nothing, and you will be humiliated, and it will have been nobody’s fault but your own. Yet even then, Elemak, you have our deep respect and honor for your considerable abilities. Good night.”