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Authors: Alex Lamb

Roboteer (51 page)

BOOK: Roboteer
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21:
CAREFULLY EVER AFTER

21.1: IRA

Ira was at the Fleet station when the last of the arks finally returned home. He waited in the transit lounge with a squad of military police behind him. He knew from
Evacuation Ark Three
security that John had boarded this shuttle, so he’d be here somewhere.

Ira scrutinised every face that came through the doorway. Then, near the back, a man appeared with the right height and the right walk.

Ira squinted at him. The face was similar to John’s but not quite right, and the hair was dark rather than blond. But he’d been told to expect that – he’d read John’s security report the moment he got home and learned all about John’s change of face and his daring capture of the Earther scout ship.

He’d also read the lies. Strangely, it wasn’t the ones about New Angeles that upset Ira most. It was the ones about the threat from Will and the Transcended.

The man sauntered out into the transit lounge along with the others until he noticed Ira’s eyes boring into him. His footsteps slowed to a halt. A sheepish smile came to his face.

‘Hey, Captain,’ he said. ‘Nice to see you.’

It was John all right. Ira would recognise that expression anywhere. He strode straight up to the man and threw his full strength behind a punch to his jaw. John flew backwards and landed hard against a bank of seats. He shook his head and gingerly fingered his face.

He blinked up at Ira from the floor. ‘I guess I had that coming,’ he said.

Ira had prepared a dozen things to say. Now he couldn’t remember any of them.

‘You lost me my ship and my best friend,’ he stated simply. ‘I should kill you for that.’

John’s bruised face twisted into a broken, guilty smile. ‘I tried to do what was best for the mission,’ he said. ‘And for Galatea.’

‘Is that why you lied to the authorities the moment you arrived?’ Ira asked.

John grimaced. ‘I couldn’t have told them the whole story. They’d never have understood.’

‘No,’ Ira growled. ‘I don’t suppose they would. If your little trick had paid off, we’d have lost Galatea. And you’d have left the human race to be fried.’

John’s face contorted. ‘You don’t know that, Captain. The aliens can’t be trusted! They
hacked
us, for crissakes! They hacked
Will
!’

To Ira’s surprise, he saw that John was almost crying. Ira shook his head in contempt. That was John – paranoid to the last.

‘Tell it to the court,’ he said and gestured to the military police. ‘You can take him away now, Sergeant.’

The police stepped forward and pulled John up off the floor.

‘Ira, believe me,’ John implored him. ‘I’m sorry for what I did.’

‘So am I.’

‘I did it for Galatea!’

Ira looked the other way as they dragged him from the room. In truth, he was sure John believed in what he’d done. But how to end the mission had never been John’s decision to make. It had been Ira’s.

He squinted hard at nothing and tried not to think of Amy, his great arms folded across his chest.

The sergeant stepped up behind him. ‘Are you coming to the debriefing, sir?’

‘No,’ said Ira. ‘Nor the trial. I’ve already made my statement.’

‘But, sir—’

‘I’ve got too much to do on the new ship,’ Ira explained. In truth, he didn’t want to attend. And ever since the Fleet had started work on
Ariel Three
, his plate had been conveniently full of other things to think about. ‘I’m hoping to be gone by the end of the month.’

The Fleet had been on a mad building spree since the end of the war. With traffic to and from Earth due to increase and new frontiers opened up, there was a lot of call for starships. The remains of Tang’s fleet were being recycled into new vessels with all haste.

‘But, sir,’ said the sergeant. ‘Inspector Voigt-Drue said told me he was expecting—’

Ira managed a smile. ‘Didn’t you see the news?’ he said, cutting the policeman off again. ‘A whole new galactic shell has been discovered and I intend to be the first person out there.’

With that, he slapped the sergeant on the shoulder and walked away. He’d done what he came here to do. He’d made his peace with Amy. Now it was time to look to the future. There was exploring to do.

21.2: GUSTAV

The fanfare of horns eventually died down and Gustav entered the throne room. For the last time, he began the long climb up the stepped pyramid that led to the Prophet’s throne. A golden spotlight followed his solemn progress. A choir of voices too perfect to be natural sang his praises throughout his ascent.

Gustav loathed this kind of pomp even more now he was the star of it. However, his new social engineering team assured him it was necessary, at least in the short term. The people had been conditioned to it. Their expectations would have to be changed slowly. Gustav intended to make damn sure it happened.

Just like last time, the chamber was filled with courtiers from all the subsects of Earth, dressed in their awful gaudy outfits. Unlike last time, the expressions on their faces were ones of thinly disguised fear and uncertainty.

Their mood was well matched by Gustav’s own. Who knew what the consequences of this sharp political turn would be? A return to the chaos of the past? That wasn’t something they could afford any more.

No doubt some of the courtiers’ concerns related to Gustav’s suitability as a world leader. Gustav shared them. He wasn’t looking forward to wielding so much authority. He hated politics. He didn’t want to be trusted by the Galateans, either. He still disliked everything they stood for. But to his great chagrin, they apparently liked him.

From the moment Monet had suggested it back aboard the nestship, Gustav had struggled to avoid a high-profile role in the new government. Then Monet made his recommendation to Ramon and the king’s team had latched on to the idea immediately. Gustav would make a perfect new Prophet, they said. He was symbolically ideal – the man who’d returned to Earth carrying the seeds of the new faith. He was also the only man on Earth who’d dealt with the Transcended in person, however unsuccessfully.

Ramon had been particularly pleased by the idea. Gustav suspected it suited the man just fine to be answering to a Prophet less politically capable than he was. It retained the status quo whilst increasing Ramon’s share of power. That alone was reason enough for Gustav to be nervous about the appointment.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t find the flaw in Will’s logic. Would he prefer to see one of his peers in the role? He couldn’t think of a single one of them he trusted, or would rely on to treat the Transcended threat rationally. Even Oz wouldn’t be right for the job. He was too much of an appeaser. Non-natives were out, too. A Galatean would last about five minutes in power before he met with some kind of unfortunate accident. Which meant it had to be Gustav.

At the top step, Ramon was waiting for him, his face unreadably regal. Above that was the throne where the Prophet sat. Sanchez had been carefully drugged and groomed for this ceremony. It wouldn’t do for the old man to end his reign with a loss of dignity.

The public story was that he was leaving power because God had shown him the flaw in his teachings. He was passing on the torch to someone chosen by God to reveal a new truth to mankind. It wasn’t a story Sanchez liked, but then he hadn’t played any part in making it up.

Gustav reached the top of the steps. In round, ponderous tones, the king began his proclamation to the crowd about the coming of a new spiritual leader, etc., etc. Gustav barely listened. Instead he knelt as expected, his face upturned to the Prophet’s.

‘The Earth will crumble under your hands,’ Sanchez whispered to him bitterly. Those dark eyes of his were as full of fire as ever, despite him being doped to the brim with mood-controllers.

‘Maybe,’ Gustav whispered back. ‘But at least this time we will build on knowledge, and not ignorance.’

Sanchez sneered at him. ‘Fool! Ignorance is reliable. Knowledge is not.’

Gustav managed a smile. ‘Ignorance is death,’ he said. ‘And you are the fool if you believe otherwise.’

Gustav was glad of the opportunity to tell the old man that. It had taken him days to reconcile his actions to himself, but in the end, he had done it. If he did not like the way the future looked, he realised, it was his responsibility to grab it with both hands and do his best to change it. It was all he’d ever done his entire life. Nothing had changed when he surrendered at Galatea except the tools at his disposal – and, arguably, the ones he had now were better.

Ramon’s speech ended. The king reached down and helped Sanchez out of his seat. The neural stinger in Ramon’s sleeve aimed at the Prophet’s neck was not visible from the broadcast cameras in the walls.

With Ramon’s insistent help, Sanchez knelt before Gustav as Gustav took his place on the throne. The throne room erupted into carefully orchestrated cheering. The unnatural choir let loose with a triumphant anthem. Truism was dead. Long live Transcendism.

Gustav looked out across his room full of courtiers and found himself smiling just a little. He already knew a few of the decrees he wanted to make. His first would be to allocate the bottom twenty floors of the Holy Palace for housing the poor, whose prote-farms still covered the countryside in every direction. His second would be to reintroduce education for girls.

He raised his hand in salute as the king helped the ex-Prophet Sanchez slowly descend the stairs before him.

21.3: WILL

Galatea had only ever boasted two real restaurants and one of them hadn’t survived the brief Earther occupation. Will and Rachel sat in the one that remained. It nestled in the middle of a park in the trench town of New Beginning under a canopy of genetically engineered Joshua trees. Hundreds of tiny lanterns had been woven around the branches.

Will looked at Rachel across a table littered with the remains of dessert and held her hand. She looked back at him.

She had voluntarily put on a dress that evening, something Will had never seen her do in his memories, or Doug’s. She’d even applied a little make-up. It wasn’t her usual style, but then it was a very special occasion: their first real evening alone since returning home.

Of course, they’d had snatches of private time here and there, but they’d spent all of those in bed. This was their first actual date, despite the fact they’d been home for three weeks. The days since they arrived had been swallowed up in an endless round of parties, functions and celebrations. It was as if the whole planet wanted to meet the heroes, and most of them felt they had a right to.

As well as Honorary President of the Roboteer’s League and Chairman of the new Department of Xenocultural Studies at Galatea University, Will had also been made Ambassador to the Transcended – a job he already had. The Galateans had given the role to him anyway, with a ceremony that lasted for several dull hours.

He and Rachel had talked so much all day that now they were finding it hard to muster conversation. It didn’t help that life kept threatening to sweep them both on. Will had his new post, along with a public acknowledgement of his command of the
Ariel Two
. Rachel had received a promotion to captain.

‘So what did Bryant say?’ Rachel ventured.

‘We’re going back to the lure star to talk to the Relic,’ Will replied. ‘Even if the Transcended don’t talk back, I’m going to send them a full memory log of my experiences. We figure that this way, they’ll be better equipped to judge other species in the future.’

Will was still painfully aware that the technology that suffused both his ship and body was on loan. It was no surprise that he was on tenterhooks to find out what the enigmatic race had to say for itself next.

Nevertheless, he wished he wasn’t leaving so soon. Rachel had been put in charge of the first Galatean starship to use the new alien technology. It was a very illustrious post, but it meant they’d be apart again for weeks.

‘Did you manage to talk to Hugo about it?’ she asked.

Will nodded. ‘He’s coming with me, as scientific advisor. Or as the “helpful sceptic”, as he calls himself.’

Hugo had made it very clear he still believed the Transcended represented a potential threat, and now that Will had been given time to think about it, some of his points weren’t so crazy. Gustav’s remarks about the aliens had resonated, too. And even if one presumed they had the best motives, exactly what the Transcended expected humanity to do next was still completely unclear.

Nothing about the coming years looked easy. As Sanchez had pointed out, the Earth would not change overnight. They were standing at the brink of the greatest social upheaval in human history with no notion of the terms on which they were now expected to live.

Even so, Will was optimistic. He saw no real reason for the Transcended not to speak plainly. Surely such an advanced race had little to gain by subterfuge. When and if humanity needed guidance, they would be informed.

Nevertheless, the human race would have to tread very carefully from now on. It was time to grow up. Who knew what they’d encounter in the new galactic shell?

‘Did he tell you when your new commission is supposed to start?’ Rachel asked.

‘Friday,’ he said glumly.

‘Good. That’ll give me time to pack.’

Will blinked at her in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

She grinned at him. ‘I’ve decided to come with you.’

‘But … Don’t you have a starship waiting for you up in orbit?’

She nodded. ‘It’ll be here when I get back. I’m not in a hurry.’

‘But didn’t Bryant say—’

Rachel laughed. ‘Isn’t this what the whole test thing was about? That human beings don’t have to be rigidly defined by the systems they create? It’s time to start living it, Will. The future’s ours to define.’

She was right, of course. He leaned across the table to kiss her.

The music in the restaurant changed. The robotic band broke into a piece of slow jazz that he recognised immediately. Will pulled away from her lips to laugh.

BOOK: Roboteer
6.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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