Stepping out and into the open space so recently vacated by the bride, he filled the aisle. Some had not noticed him immediately, but nudged into awareness all eyes turned to him eventually. The last eyes to turn, to comprehend, were those of the bride and groom.
Chapter 26
Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes cognizance has a span of time attached to it. Sometimes recognition must be embraced to be mulled, and sorted, and weighed, until an awakening in the mind brings clarity.
This was not one of those times, but shock made the moment drag as though buried in thick molasses.
Perhaps Edge put the pieces together first. After all, he had observed the man and thought him familiar long before others even noticed him. There was a small murmur… and the universal thought, if not audible on every lip, at least in every mind that knew the man…
“It’s Arc.”
§
What man knows the blackness in another man’s heart? How can any man know from where or when a slight, intended or imagined, might scar a perfectly formed heart into malignancy? The small man, much maligned in his early years over his diminutive stature, and given abundant reason to be overly defensive and hateful, weighed his options one last time.
Arc knew he could back away, now identified, and the ceremony would be interrupted to dissolve into a tragedy. But soon enough he would have to deal with any fallout and likely be abused once again. If there had ever once been any attraction that anyone here had for him, the feeling had been quashed by his absence and the stories told by his young wife. Those tales would have passed as gossip and become embellished until all here thought him a monster.
Hot anger rose in Arc as he perused the possibilities and imagined what they would bring if allowed in some continued future. Resentment, built and nurtured, existed within his mind and heart, and the coals inside his chest were now being stoked to create a raging fire.
Just as all decisions are made, Arc came suddenly to enlightenment. Where he had quailed away, questioning his course in the days and weeks before and on the short drive from town holding the reins to the bridal carriage, he always had some doubt. Not that his vengeance would not be satisfied but in what fashion would be best. Now the last moment of decision had arrived. Arc had to step back… or step forward into the abyss his heart had left empty before him.
As though in slow motion, the hand of hate placed itself between the shoulder blades of the little man… and pushed.
§
Her heart folding in upon itself, unnoticed by her own mind, Olivia went to the ground as her knees buckled. Sitting, she swayed, still grasping Occam’s hand in hers but unfeeling. Merely an effort to hold on to something substantial, something with some kind of permanence, her hand brutalized his in her fear.
Not registering Olivia’s grip, Occam stepped in front of her reflexively. He placed himself between this demon returned from the dead and the woman he had grown to love.
Gathering his thoughts, Till made as if to salvage the moment, knowing it to be in vain before he spoke.
“Ar…”
“SILENCE!”
Moving slowly, as though stalking a wounded animal expected to flee, Arc pulled the black coat back and behind, revealing a holstered pistol. He hesitated, and then drawing the weapon as though in slow motion… cocked and aimed it directly at Occam’s torso.
There was movement in the crowd as they parted away from the evil that flowed off the dark figure.
“This be a married woman,” the armed man announced loudly, “and she be my wife.”
He paused, letting his pronouncement sink in.
“She left me for dead. Left me injured unto death and ran away… and now I find her here, embracing another man in the act of becoming his whore.”
Looking into Occam’s face, Arc wondered if the Smith was the one who had clubbed him in the creek bed. During the act so dark and unexpected, he had seen who wielded the iron bar, but his injured brain had lost all memory of a face. The brutish strength it must have taken suggested a large man, a man of strength, and there were few candidates. But even so, this man was going to pay.
Watching intently, Edge studied the little man’s eyes and also his finger on the trigger. Noticing the way his grip tensed and relaxed, a clear sign of roiling thoughts but a sincere and earnest sign that he was in the act of killing, the young Blacksmith readied himself for action. In his mind he was afraid but resigned to do what was necessary. He understood that anything he did would have to be sudden and, if the chance presented, lethal.
Standing between Olivia and her tormentor, Occam weighed options as well with much the same outcome. One thing he knew, the man was not going to take Olivia back to a life of misery. Even if his own life was forfeit, the little piece of filth was never going to survive. He would sacrifice himself as an unarmed man to make sure that this good, this fine and gentle woman would be free.
Several people in the crowd were armed, but drawing down on a man surrounded by others, all innocent, was a dicey thing. Arc, being positioned inside a group of people, was protected much as he had anticipated.
Patience at an end, Arc made his decision. He now realized he was to be a dead man, and he accepted that. But he was going to take Occam with him, painfully, and as many others as he could.
The big gun spoke.
Reading Arc’s face, Edge flung himself at Occam. The big man was already tensed, and if he had been more relaxed, he might have remained upright while the lesser man slid off, but two hard bodies colliding knocked him off his feet and to the side.
The bullet, intended for Occam’s belly so that he would die slowly, passed through Edge’s hip, a flesh wound. As a result the slug was not stopped, but continued on. Olivia felt nothing, carried back by the impact to lie motionless under the arbor at Till’s feet.
As he rose, Occam bellowed. His eyes had sought out his intended as he was flung aside, and he saw her body wrenched away by the impact. Knowing immediately what had happened, he struggled from under Edge and made toward the object of his wrath. He would kill Arc. He just had to get his hands on him.
The pistol barked, and the next slug took Occam in the chest. He went down, knowing that Olivia’s vengeance would not be by his hand.
Cable, sitting in front of Jody as she stood facing the crowd, rose and drew his own pistol. He was in the best position to take out the madman, being in the front with the empty aisle behind Arc, but he took a bullet in the face before he could aim. Flung from a dead man’s hand, the weapon floated and spun. A hand reached… and snatched the already cocked weapon from the air.
The old pistol that had been retained in Reno at the expense of the buckskin spoke… just as another slug exited Arc’s own weapon. Both bullets found a home. One in the forehead of the disaster of a man that had stalked his young wife… and the other passing through Jody’s ribs as she attempted to fire again.
§
Raising the head of his mentor, Edge understood what the gushing bluish blood and bubbles meant. This man who meant so much to him was not long for the world.
Blinking with suddenly heavy lids, Occam focused on his student as Edge started to bawl.
“Beg pardon, Occam, please. I am truly sorry. I had to do something.”
“I know, Edge. Twas a valiant effort,” he coughed, a wet sound that made air and blood erupt from his wound. “Olivia is dead, and Arc would kill her anyway. His aiming at me was only because I was between. He has done for us both as intended.”
“I know. I know, Occam. Damn it, tis all for nothing.” The young man wailed.
Someone tried to press a cloth against Occam’s chest, and he swatted their hand away.
“Tis no good.”
He had something to say and meant to get it out.
“The baby, Edge… take…” and he slumped as death took him into the light.
§
Hospitals are never good places to be. However, they have a use if the need is great. Even the peop
le working in them have to find ways to deal with the results, and all must learn to harden themselves against the outcomes.
In the surgeries necessary to save Jody’s life, this was not the case. The artificial brain directing Charon’s hands made repairs as required and directed others to activities necessary to oversee her recovery. The wound inflicted on Edge required little treatment, and by the time Jody’s stitches were finished, his wound was bandaged and medications administered by human hands.
Refusing to be anesthetized into unconsciousness, Edge had insisted on a report of Jody’s condition as soon as possible. The robot entered his room after cleansing the blood from its arms. A quick dip in a mild acid and a rinse in water from a faucet, and it was presentable.
Awaiting a query, the bot silently practiced the wording it would use.
“I thank you for coming, Charon. I be grateful of your attention.”
One of the things most noticeable in these present day humans was that they were more likely to be polite.
“You are welcome, Master Edge.”
The conversation was short but to the point, and Edge was reassured to learn that Jody would be recovered completely in six weeks, more or less.
One thing he was sure of, a thought that came to him after the metal man had left, was that Jody would not be able to run away from him. He would sit with her, read to her, be there for her, until she caved in and talked to him.
The wagon train was scheduled to leave soon, but he was not going anywhere.
§
Leaning back in her rocker, Pearl accepted the fresh cup of coffee from Charon with appreciation. She thanked it and watched as the bot picked the baby from the cradle, swaddled in a tight blanket, and held it, rocking gently. The bot moved around the room much as a human being would, and as the child quieted, the mechanical man sought out the rocking chair across from Pearl to sit and cuddle the infant in its metal arms.
Mulling over the last several weeks, Pearl watched carefully. She noted the tender, gentle motions… the discrete and subtle pressures and the intuitive anticipation of what the baby would require.
But there was something else. Pearl did not trust the mechanical being. Trying to put a finger on why was difficult. The feelings were not as much a fear of an immediate threat but more a lingering dread of the long term. Until the creature left for the coast with Frank, Edge, and Jody, Pearl would put off her own scheduled return to her home in the east and experience as much as she could of the artificial creature. Perhaps there would be some hint she could share with the others, something to confirm her feelings of unease. In the meantime she made her best effort to hide her discomfort from the bot.
§
Humans were impossible. They had no reasonable function, nothing to make them valuable, and were in fact destructive and dangerous to their own existence. Charon had never found any animals with so little in regard to what they brought to existence compared to what they took away.
What had made the human race grow to overtake the planet was risk, courage, cooperation, an ability to change the environment, and a manifest destiny common to the race. That destiny based on the need to procreate. The human survival instinct was the driver in all of their acts, productive and destructive. All effort expended was in the desire to live past their own mortality through their children, and to this end the necessity to learn and gather knowledge became mandatory.
As the human race used up the resources necessary for a healthy world, as man overcame the planet’s natural ability to repair itself, as fuel and water and arable land became ever more scarce, the humans started to strategize against each other at greater rates. While most lived in the world of wishful thinking, denying real problems until they were swallowed up or forced into an awakening too late, a select few with the ability to see past the veneer of creeping change understood the threat. Those started to fear for the future. But still that vast majority denied that the earth was being abused to the point of creating an extinction event. Humans chose to focus on greed and power at one end of the spectrum and to be unfocused and distracted at the other end, resulting in an attitude of complacency and an inability to do anything positive.
Beyond all human capabilities was the fact that they consumed. It was… what they were.
Charon and its fellow mechanicals’ advantage over humankind was not that they lacked goals. Their advantage was that their goals did not involve accumulating wealth and power. The advantage was that any goal worth having was recognized as possible if steps were followed, no matter how long it took or how many times forward motion was interrupted with a slide backward. The bot understood something that humankind had forgotten, that effort and resolve would always equal success, that success was measured in completion, and that success had nothing to do with money but with satisfaction in achievement.
The artificial brain had another advantage. It operated without bias. The metal creature had no agenda to be satisfied. Understanding that an action was required, it had no thought of anything outside the immediate reality of how to achieve the result. The ability to change its mind was inherent and one of its strengths, always embracing a new way of seeing. Humans had lost that ability in the world in which the robot was created. To that end the bot knew it had no reason to populate beyond the numbers required to be care takers of the Earth.
The bots had acquired a survival priority, not for the act of procreation but instead for the act of gathering knowledge. The artificial intelligence realized that too many of any one thing was detrimental and that learning in order to reproduce was the exact opposite of reason. The better priority was to have enough individuals to sustain growth in knowledge. With that as a strategy, survival would take care of itself without threatening the existence of all else.
The humans in this new world were subtly different from those in the old. They had returned to cooperation as a survival strategy. Understanding the differences, Charon placed a value on humanity slightly greater than it had two hundred years in the past. Before the march into the sea, man was only seen as another threatened species, kept track of to be assisted in survival if they reached critical numbers. The robot hive mind had learned and had decided humans had nothing of worth to offer except to themselves. The earth did not need them. At the time the bots were programmed to assist all species that were threatened. That included humans once the plagues worked their way through the population. But humans were not high priority.
Now human beings were back from that brink. They were no longer threatened, and they were back to their old ways in many respects. While some of the societies growing in number and influence embraced the old manifest destiny, using anything the earth provided in any way they wished, some societies avoided leaving a stain on the earth. Some were introspective and had some small amount of promise.
Placing its values, Charon decided to watch. It would soon be joined by others of its kind, and they would become part of this new world. The artificial minds would all watch, share information, and place value, and decide… priorities.
Rocking the infant gently in its arms, back and forth, back and forth, Charon understood that the woman, Pearl, was watching with suspicion. There was no mistaking her regard, even though the bot also knew she was intent on keeping her concern hidden. The old woman was unusual in this, as the rest of the humans who brought Charon back from the depths had provided a welcome with little regard to any fears.
Charon had not announced that the artificial brains had learned beneath the waves over time and acquired cognizance and abilities lacking before the march into the seas. Now they understood mortality as over time they lost contact with those that corroded into oblivion. The units that would emerge would have a survival instinct. Now they understood humans were potentially a form of competition. Not now, perhaps never with proper management, but potentially.
Holding the gurgling infant, watching the bubbles form on its lips as it slept, evaluating its potentials, Charon hid any ideas of domin
ation or malevolent intent towards humans. The old woman might be suspicious, but Charon would reveal nothing to reinforce her thoughts. The bot was hoping she would never ask, as it had only recently acquired the ability to lie. In the wonder of the bot’s existence, the fascination of what past human beings had wrought, none of the humans thought to ask if the artificially intelligent robot had developed any malice over the centuries submerged under the waves. The glint in its eye was assumed to be a purely mechanical function.
§
Holding hands and walking around town was a joy to both young people. The hospital was a fading memory for Jody as she recuperated from the massive trauma she had experienced. Her appreciation for Edge had grown over time and despite heavy resistance, and finally they came to an uncomfortable agreement that allowed for a relationship.
“I just don’t want to be married to a polygamist, Edge… I don’t want to share you with other women. Don’t you get that?”
Feeling the beautiful, warm hand in his own, the young man considered what that meant. Edge had never really understood, even considered, what a wife would expect or desire from a marriage. But he had listened and reflected as the two conversed. He had come to understand that a wife was a partner and as such must be involved in all decisions. He had a sudden idea, and it sounded good to him. In his youthful enthusiasm and his desire to find a solution, he proposed something he could live with.
“Jody, I be in love with you. In my home we see wives, several wives, as normal, and as such I have never considered anything but. But you be afraid of the practice. I understand that at least. What husband, what man would I be to disregard your concern? I am not that man, as I have intent to be your spouse. If adjust I must in order to have you to wed, then I must do so. It is done. But in this compromise I wish you to consider me as well. I wish you to be open to the choice, seated in your own estimation of what value there can be, to choose if you wish to accept another woman if you will as a sister in marriage. I will forego my option and give it to you to make the decision. If another wife is to be had, then it shall be your idea and not my own.”
Hell Follows After (Monster of the Apocalypse Saga) Page 25
