Proxima

by Stephen Baxter

  He couldn’t see a choice. There would be better protection in a larger group, a better chance of survival. And at least with this group there would be other kids for Beth to meet – a choice, at least, of partners for life. Maybe even more in Klein’s group, and he glanced that way.

  Delga noticed the look. ‘Yeah. You’re going to have to go face the big man.’

  ‘But bring your people here first,’ Anna said. ‘Maybe you ought to go and tell them they aren’t alone any more.’

  Yuri stood, and thanked them for their hospitality. He felt like his manners were rusty. Then he set out alone for the jilla lake and home, wondering how he was going to break all this to Mardina and Beth.

  CHAPTER 45

  When they came back to the camp by the river, it was as a convoy: Yuri and Mardina walked, and Beth rode on the hood of the ColU.

  They had let Beth pick out her own favourite clothes, which were all colourful cut-downs from the old ISF gear. And she packed a bag with gifts for the children, from old toys to choice potatoes from the latest crop, and pretty rocks she’d found over the years. Though whether she had a clear idea of what ‘children’ were going to be like, Yuri had no idea. She might imagine some version of the builders, Mister Sticks grown large and wearing human clothes.

  Yuri had suggested to Mardina that they wear what was left of their own ISF-issue gear, in order to blend in with the crowd a little better. But Mardina went to the opposite extreme, picking out her drabbest stem-case work clothes, her coolie hat, even her bark sandals. ‘This is who I am now,’ she said evenly.

  Not for the first time in his life, Yuri couldn’t read her mood. But he went along with her decision.

  The whole of Delga’s camp turned out to watch them approach, the men and women in their little huddles, the kids behind the women.

  ‘Not exactly welcoming,’ Mardina murmured.

  ‘At least they’re not waving crossbows this time.’

  Beth just stared at the children, stared and stared. And the ColU swivelled its camera mounts to inspect the mutilated machine that stood patiently at the edge of this colony’s potato field.

  They got to within about ten metres. Then one of the women stepped forward, staring at Mardina. ‘I know you. She’s a fucking astronaut!’

  Mardina murmured to Yuri, ‘I take it you didn’t explain my particular circumstances.’

  ‘I didn’t tell them anything.’

  ‘Fair enough—’

  ‘An astronaut! I always hated you bastards, even before I got on the ship. Jones, that was your name.’

  ‘It still is.’

  ‘Why, you mouthy—’ And the woman launched herself out of the group and went straight for Mardina, running flat out, her hands outstretched as if to grab Mardina’s throat.

  Mardina stepped aside, stuck out a leg and sent the woman sprawling. ‘Ten years out of the service but my ISF training’s still there. Good to know.’ The woman was up on her knees, spitting dirt out of her mouth. ‘Now, one quick chop to the neck—’

  Yuri held Mardina’s arm. ‘Leave her to the others.’

  Some of the women, and one man, came running up. They hauled the woman to her feet, her arms firmly held. ‘For God’s sake, Frieda, we have to live with these people . . .’

  Dorothy Wynn stepped forward to apologise. Delga just laughed.

  They were brought into the camp reasonably peacefully. Yuri and Mardina sat by the women’s fire and were offered more nettle tea. The men of the colony hung back, evidently curious. The ColU rolled away to inspect its silent brother by the potato field.

  Beth stared at Delga’s stump of an arm. And then, wide-eyed with astonishment, she was cautiously welcomed by the children.

  ‘Play nice, Freddie,’ Delga called with a hint of venom. ‘So, ice boy. Full of surprises, aren’t you? Only two of you. Two survivors, of fourteen.’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Yuri said.

  ‘And not all that dissimilar to yours, I’ll bet,’ Mardina said levelly, pointedly looking around at the group, the eleven adults.

  ‘More extreme though,’ Delga said. ‘We’re all survivors, I guess, here in the Bowl. But you two evidently pushed it to the limit. Respect.’

  Dorothy Wynn said, ‘I’m sorry how Frieda took a pop at you like that.’

  Mardina shrugged. ‘She’s right. I am ISF crew, or was.’

  ‘But I’m guessing you didn’t volunteer to stay down here.’

  ‘I filled a gap in the manifest. The drop group was short . . . I had the right genetic diversity. Lucky me.’

  ‘We’re all here now,’ Dorothy said firmly. ‘Which is all that matters.’

  Anna said, ‘And you had a kid, even though it was just the two of you? That took some guts.’

  Yuri and Mardina shared an awkward glance. This was very private stuff, but these others had been in a similar position. Yuri said at length, ‘I think we concluded that it took less guts than not having a kid.’

  ‘And another? Did you think about having more?’

  This time neither of them was willing to answer. Even after Beth was born they’d found such issues difficult to discuss. Their whole world was focused on one person, on Beth; somehow they hadn’t been able to imagine breaking that up with a second child. Maybe someday they would have got around to it, the alternative being to let Beth grow old and die alone. But that, Yuri realised slowly, was the old game, under the old rules. Looking around at these people, he saw that everything was different now – for Beth too.

  Still they weren’t answering Anna’s question, and the silence stretched. Yuri was relieved when another familiar figure walked over to break things up.

  ‘Hey, Yuri. I thought you were dead, man . . .’

  It was Liu Tao. Yuri could see that his old comrade from the ship had come from the Klein camp, to the north. He wore the remains of an ISF-issue coverall, with two bands of red ribbon around his right biceps.

  Yuri stood up. They shook hands, embraced briefly. Yuri was unreasonably glad to see Liu. ‘Never thought I’d see you again. I always thought you’d come through, though.’

  Liu shrugged. ‘Well, I lived through a spaceship crash on Mars and two years in a UN jail before I was shoved aboard the Ad Astra. So I’m a tough guy, right?’

  ‘How touching,’ Delga said. ‘Male bonding. We don’t get enough male bonding around here, do we, Dorothy?’

  ‘Delga . . .’

  Mardina said, ‘Klein sent you over. Right, Liu? One of his right-hand men now, are you? Hence the pretty ribbons on your arm.’

  Liu shrugged. ‘Yeah. Something like that. He’s inviting you over for a drink, Yuri. You and Lieutenant Jones here.’

  ‘A drink?’

  ‘Potato vodka. Not bad, at least the stuff Gustave drinks.’

  ‘And that’s not really an invitation, Yuri,’ Delga said, smiling cruelly. ‘It’s an order.’

  Mardina said, ‘I think we’re through taking orders from anybody.’

  Yuri looked across at the Klein camp, and he glanced around at Dorothy, Delga, the others; he didn’t know what kind of accommodation this group had come to with Klein. ‘Just this once,’ he murmured to Mardina. ‘Let him get his own way just this once. Hear what he has to say. Then we’ll figure out our own policy. All right?’

  She shrugged, and got to her feet.

  Anna said, ‘You can leave Beth here. She’s fine.’

  And so she was, Yuri could see; she was running around with the other kids in some complicated tag game as if she’d grown up with it.

  But Mardina picked up Beth’s bag and slung it over her shoulder. ‘Maybe Beth left some old toys we can give to Klein and his henchmen.’

  The others laughed, but Yuri could see Mardina’s smile was forced. He glared at her. What are you up to? She looked away, making no reply, wordless or otherwise.

  It was just a short walk downstream to Klein’s camp, with the way led by Liu Tao. Dorothy and Delga walked with them too. The ColU roll
ed alongside Yuri and Mardina, saying it wanted to inspect the machines in the Klein camp, as it had Delga’s.

  The camp was superficially like Delga’s, with tents and lean-tos of the local timber evidently designed for breaking down and rebuilding. A number of fires burned. At first glance Yuri counted twenty adults here, more than one shuttle-load. There were men, women, and children, but gathered in little family groups, Yuri thought, rather than in the split-sex communal arrangements of Delga’s group.

  People stared as they came through. They seemed to flinch away, fearfully, and parents kept their kids out of the way. Some of the men wore arm ribbons, like Liu’s – none of the women. And Yuri noticed injuries, burns or scars, on arms and faces. Even some of the children had been injured.

  The biggest difference of all was at the heart of the camp. There was one substantial house, like a cabin with vertical walls and a pitched roof, that must have taken a lot of effort to rebuild when it was moved. And alongside the house was another ColU, or the remains of one, its dome detached, its manipulator arms lost. On top of this was set a chair, of carved wood and cushions.

  And on the chair sat Gustave Klein, appearing as corpulent as ever. He wore what looked like an astronaut uniform, let out to fit his frame, black and sleek, with six of those arm ribbons wrapped around his fat biceps. He smiled down at Yuri. His head shaved, his face round, multiple chins tucked down on his chest; it was like looking up at the moon of Earth. ‘I don’t even remember you,’ Klein said.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘But I remember you. The delectable Lieutenant Mardina Jones.’ He leaned forward and sniffed. ‘Oh, we all had the hots for you, back in the day.’

  ‘And I remember you, Klein, and you’re as disgusting now as you were then.’

  He roared laughter. ‘Feisty, isn’t she? Well, you’re not in command any more, for all your arrogance.’ He glared at the ColU. ‘You. What are you looking at?’

  ‘At the autonomous colonisation unit on which you sit.’ The ColU’s cameras pivoted to look at the group’s second unit, which stood at the edge of another potato field. That too had had its dome removed, all its sensors, though its manipulator arms remained. ‘You acquired a second machine.’

  ‘ “Acquired”. Yeah. Good word, that. When we came across another group and we “acquired” them and all their gear. Mostly we acquired the women, of course,’ and he cackled laughter, leering at Mardina.

  ‘And what of the units’ AI modules?’ the ColU asked.

  ‘Well, we cut them out and dumped them,’ Klein said. ‘When they wouldn’t do what we wanted.’

  ‘We did the same,’ Dorothy admitted. ‘Didn’t you ever think of that?’

  ‘Evidently not,’ said Mardina evenly.

  ‘You dumped them,’ the ColU said. ‘Fully sentient, rendered as if limbless and sightless, dumped them in the sand and abandoned them. Unable even to die—’

  Mardina said, ‘I think there have been greater cruelties committed on this planet than that, ColU.’

  The ColU rolled away. ‘I will inspect that machine. And I will make it a personal goal,’ it said, receding, ‘to recover all my lost and wounded brothers. Some day, somehow . . .’

  Klein ignored it. He stared at Yuri, curiously. ‘Just the two of you, right? We all got dropped in the middle of nowhere. How did you get out?’

  ‘Tell us how you got out.’

  Liu answered for him. ‘It was kind of brutal,’ he admitted. ‘Turns out we were left even further from any other water sources than most of the shuttle groups we’ve heard about.’

  ‘I wonder why,’ Mardina said, staring up at Klein.

  ‘China boy’s too squeamish to tell you how it was,’ Klein said. ‘We didn’t have enough water from the start. Then the lake we were stuck by started drying out. Even the little reedy natives cleared off. Some astronaut screwed up, we should never have been dropped there. So we walked out. And you know how we survived?’ He licked his lips, staring back at her. ‘You want to know what your precious ISF astronauts, your marvellous Major McGregor, made us do? We drank the blood of those who weren’t going to make it. That’s how we survived. Quite a story, huh? A story that will be told as long as there are people on Kleinworld. And don’t pretend you’re somehow above all that, China boy. You stained your mouth too.’

  Liu looked away.

  Mardina said, ‘Kleinworld? You’ve got to be kidding.’

  Delga grinned. ‘We just call it the Bowl. Because that’s how it feels, doesn’t it? When you look up at that big sun in the sky, never moving. Like you’re stuck at the bottom of a great big bowl, with slippery sides that you can never climb out of.’

  ‘We call it Per Ardua,’ Yuri said, and he explained why.

  Dorothy Wynn nodded. ‘I rather like that.’

  ‘ “I rather like that”,’ Klein snapped mockingly. ‘Oh, do you? Well, I fucking don’t. Typical smartass stuff from you astronauts – right, Lieutenant Jones? Let me tell you something. You’re a long way from the officers’ lounge now. You’re in my world, whether you call it that or not. I’m the power here. Look around. And I’ll tell you what you’re going to do before—’

  With a single smooth movement Mardina pulled a crossbow out of Beth’s bag, raised it, and shot him in the eye. He fell back on his big chair, limbs splayed, mouth open, and was still.

  For a moment there was silence, save for the gurgling of Klein’s gut as it shut down. Nobody moved. Then Mardina held up the crossbow, loaded it again, and showed it to Klein’s ‘officers’.

  Delga was the first to react. She laughed. ‘Wow. How did you—’

  ‘Practice,’ Yuri said grimly.

  ‘Practice, yes,’ Mardina said. ‘I’ve had a lot of time for that the last ten years. But I haven’t got time for an asshole like Klein. And I’ve got a daughter to protect. So, that’s that dealt with. Anybody got any objections? No? Good. Let’s get out of here; we’ve got a lot to talk about. By the way—’ she looked contemptuously at Liu’s arms, the ribbons, ‘—you won’t be needing those any more.’

  Flanked by Dorothy and Delga, she walked out of the camp, heading upstream.

  Yuri and Liu fell in behind her. Yuri was ready for trouble, but Klein’s people seemed stunned. None of them had even gone to the body yet.

  ‘You’ve got a tiger by the tail there, my friend,’ Liu murmured to Yuri.

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  As they walked back to Delga’s camp, a few flakes of snow started falling from the sky. By the time they got back Beth and the other children were dancing and shouting, excited by the thickening fall.

  CHAPTER 46

  The walls, the carpet melted back, to reveal a washed-out blue sky, well-watered grass underfoot. Only their three chairs remained, and Stef wondered how much else of Earthshine’s fancy chamber had been a simulation.

  Earthshine remained seated, while Stef and Penny stood and looked around. They were in a graveyard, set in the grounds of a small country church, evidently very old. The graves in their rows were topped by weathered stones, and some by more modern virtual memorials, nodding flowers or dancing figures or scraps of wedding albums or baby photos, sustained by the energies of the generous sunlight.

  ‘We’re not far from Paris,’ Earthshine said. ‘I mean, that’s where the source of this projection is. Once you would have seen the city smog as a smear in the sky, off to the north. Long gone now. The simulation is based on a live feed, incidentally.’

  ‘I recognise this place,’ Penny said. ‘We came here when Dad was buried.’

  ‘I came here alone,’ Stef said.

  ‘Whatever. He wanted to be buried beside Mom.’

  Earthshine said, ‘Who in turn was buried beside her own mother. Your grandmother was a Parisian, and so here we are . . . I am drawn to graveyards, you know. Fascinating, poignant places. The evidence of human mortality, which I do not share—’

  ‘Even though you were once human,’ Penny said.

  T
hat surprised Stef. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Penny smiled ruefully. ‘Since we got this summons, while you have been researching me, I’ve been researching our host . . .’

  It was another outcome of the Heroic Generation age, she said. ‘Earthshine is actually the youngest of the Core AIs. Already his brothers were strong. They were useful for supporting the big post-Jolt projects: global in scope, very long term. But there was concern that the AIs, being non-human after all and running on an entirely different substrate, would not share humanity’s concern for its own well-being, and would pursue different agendas. So a new approach to emulating human-level AI was tried out. Volunteers were sought – or rather, the hyper-rich of the Heroic Generation competed for places—’

  ‘I was a Green Brain experiment,’ Earthshine said. ‘Major Kalinski, I was reverse-engineered as an AI. My name is – was – Robert Braemann. I grew up in North Britain, as it is known now. They opened up my head and modelled the hundred billion neurones, the quadrillion synapses, in a vast software suite that was itself state-of-the-art. It was done by nanoprobes crawling through my skull, multiplying, reporting . . . I was brought back to consciousness repeatedly, to monitor the process. I, I, felt nothing.’

  Stef frowned. ‘They modelled every organic bit of you, or the essence of you. And you still claim to be you – whoever you were?’

  Penny smiled. ‘Sis, you’ve put your finger on the paradox that troubles most of us, when you look at a Green Brain.’

  ‘Don’t call me “sis”.’

  ‘I considered calling myself Theseus. I doubt you’ve had time to read any Plutarch along with your quantum theory, Major. Theseus’s Paradox is this: Theseus’s ship had each of its component parts, the wood and the nails, replaced one by one, until the whole fabric was new. Is it the same ship? It is an old quandary.’

  Stef thought it over. ‘If you define the ship by its function, it’s still the same ship. Or if you consider it as an object with an extension in time as well as space—’