Nichua considered him, then she gave a small nod.
Everyone shuffled around on the bench to make room and she slid onto the end. She pushed her hood to the back of her head, not all the way off. “What do you want to know? I only know what I have heard inside the College.”
“Are you still with Jeremiah?” Lilly asked. “Does he still work in the laboratories? They would have been privy to more information than the public is getting.”
Nichua nodded slowly. “That is where I heard most of what I can tell you. They are saying that the attack was unprovoked. The computer—”
“His name is Bedivere,” Catherine said sharply.
“Bedivere,” Nichua amended, with a startled look at her. “They’re saying that Bedivere fired upon the farm without warning. He destroyed everything.”
“Farm?” Brant asked. “That’s what he destroyed? A farm?”
Nichua frowned. “It is a very large farm. One of the biggest on the southern continent. All of them are useless now, of course. The radiation covers everything.”
Catherine held out her hand. “I’m confused,” she confessed. “Tell me about the south. What is the primary city there?”
“Oh, there are no cities,” Nichua said, sounding surprised. “Just farms.”
“How many farms?”
“I don’t know for sure. They stopped building them years ago. The last time I saw an actual number was a few years ago. Perhaps two dozen of them.”
Everyone was staring at her, now.
“That’s all?” Catherine asked. “That’s everything on the island? A few farms?”
Nichua shook her head. “These farms…they’re thousands of kilometers square.”
“And one family controls an entire farm?” Kemp asked. There was a furrow between his eyes, too. “They’d have to have hundreds of people to maintain a working farm of that size,” he added.
“Family?” Nichua repeated.
“Corporation or organization,” Catherine interpreted. “One controlling body for each farm…that will still require a large contingent of personnel to cover that much land.”
“Oh, I see.” Nichua smiled proudly. “They’re all automated. It was a project developed to help Barros achieve Federation membership, years and years ago. The land on the south island is fertile and there are very few people on Barros yet. The governor thought that if they developed automatic farms, they could export the technology to the poorer worlds in the fringes who need the food but don’t have printers and generators. He called it smart low tech and it was a great success. There are no fringes anymore, yet there are plenty of worlds with lots of dirt and not much technological infrastructure. They would come and inspect the south island, then buy up big.”
“So…” Brant said slowly, “the south island is a showroom?”
Nichua laughed. “Not exactly. The food grown there is sent to the north here and some of it is exported. The technology works so well, all the farms here in the north have converted to auto-farming, too. So even the food from the south isn’t really needed. So I guess you could say it’s a showroom, yes. I’d never thought of it that way before.”
Catherine rubbed at her temples. “How many people were needed to run a farm, then?” she asked.
“None, of course. That’s why they’re automatic.”
Her heart was squeezing hard. “So how many people were on the south island when Bedivere….” She swallowed. “When it was destroyed?”
Nichua’s smile faded. “I don’t really know,” she replied.
“Have you heard of anyone being brought to the College for therapy?” Lilly asked. “Any casualties would be sent there first. Have the laboratories switched to full medical status?”
Nichua was frowning now. “Jeremiah didn’t say they had shifted over to medical,” she said slowly. “I don’t remember him talking about any casualties. He’s a researcher first and a med tech second, so he wouldn’t have been tapped for therapy straight away.”
“Only if there were many casualties?” Catherine probed.
“Yes.”
“How many casualties would be enough to cause the laboratories to convert to medical status?” Lilly asked.
“We’re a small campus,” Nichua replied. “Perhaps fifty or more.”
Catherine caught Brant’s gaze. “So, there have not been more than fifty casualties, if that.”
“What about bodies?” Brant asked Nichua. “How many of them have been brought in?”
Nichua’s frown was deepening. “I haven’t heard of any.”
“You’re in the crèche area,” Lilly pointed out. “Is there someone you know in the regeneration studio who could tell you?”
“I know Eveline.”
Lilly held out her reader. “Call her. Ask her how many bodies have been brought in.”
Nichua pressed her lips together again. Then she took the board and punched in a message and waited. She didn’t look at anyone while she did. Then she handed the board back to Lilly. “One,” she said softly. “He was regenerated and released yesterday.”
“Only one death, on the entire south island,” Catherine said softly.
Nichua looked uncomfortable. “He was from the north,” she replied. “An air car accident. There are too many here at the moment and the air controller is a simple computer, not even an AI.”
Catherine realized she was clenching and releasing her fists compulsively and flattened her hands on the table to simulate calm.
Nichua got to her feet, pulling the hood up again. “This is very strange,” she said slowly “I had not realized how odd it was that the College had received no casualties. I will ask Jeremiah to find out more and I will pass it back to Lilly.”
Catherine gave her a stiff smile. “Thank you. That would be helpful. If you could ask Jeremiah what radiation is covering the island, that would be useful, too.”
Nichua’s brows rose. “Oh! He was talking about that last night. The first shuttles to fly over the island were forced away by a gamma radiation cloud. The team who landed all had to be regenerated because of alpha radiation poisoning. That’s why everyone has rushed to get air quality probes mounted. The prevailing wind is from the south, especially here. The scientists were saying that the radiation would reach us yesterday…and nothing has been detected, not even far out to sea, closer to the south island.”
She pulled her hood forward over her face and hurried away.
Catherine finished her coffee in silence, her mind racing.
Lilly gave a soft exclamation and passed her board to Brant. “He wants you.”
Brant looked down at the board, then Lilly pressed the correct command for him with a cluck of her tongue.
Catherine was sitting between Brant and Kemp, so she could see the board clearly over his arm.
Connell’s image formed in the message box and he looked relieved. “Oh, good, you’re both there!”
“Keep your voice down,” Catherine said softly. “We’re in a public place here.”
Connell lowered his voice. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours and hours, ever since you emerged from the gates. Then I gave up and tried Lilly. Don’t you have a reader with you?”
Catherine realized with a start that she didn’t. Bedivere had always taken care of that, relying messages to her as needed.
“Why have you been trying to reach me?” she asked him.
He leaned forward, giving the impression that he was leaning closer to them. “I think I can find Bedivere. I found the trace over Barros.”
“Trace?” Kemp asked sharply.
“Electronic trail,” Catherine explained. She looked at Connell. “He wouldn’t overlook something like that. He knows how to leave no traces.”
“And I know how to look for traces mere humans couldn’t find,” Connell replied. “Bedivere isn’t used to hiding his trail from me.”
“You’re tracking him now?” she asked.
“If it is him, then yes, I’m tracking
it.”
She tried to damp down the spurt of hope that flared in her. “Where is he?”
“It’s an electronic trace,” Connell said patiently. “I can track him through the datacore, but that doesn’t tell me where he is any more than he could tell where I am.”
“Then you can send him a message?” she asked.
Connell looked surprised. “Sure. What do I say?”
“Tell him I want to speak to him. Private, secure and sealed only. Just him and me.”
“What if he doesn’t want to talk to you?” Connell asked, sounding scared.
“He’d better,” Catherine said. “I’m one of the very few people left in the known worlds who doesn’t think he’s a monster and even I am having doubts.”
Chapter Seven
Barros IV, Barros System, Aibosian Cluster. FY 10.092.
They were half-way back to the hotel when Connell reached them again. “That was fast,” Lilly said, pulling out her board and answering.
“He says he’ll meet. Only Catherine,” Connell said, “and only via a sealed channel he will set up. He wants to know what code to use, because he knows Catherine won’t have a terminal with her.”
Catherine could feel her cheeks heating. She leaned over Lilly’s shoulder. “I’ll figure something out when we get a room at the hotel and get back to you.”
The hotel was still as frantically busy as before. Catherine and Kemp cornered the concierge and applied pressure and yen. He, in turn, whispered to one of the desk clerks.
“There is one room we can give you,” he said.
“We’ll need two,” Catherine replied.
“This truly is the last unoccupied room,” the concierge explained. “The house bots are cleaning it as we speak. If you would take the room, we will find a second one for you as soon as we can.”
Catherine added more yen to the palm of his hand, which was floating palm-up by his hip.
He gave her a happy smile and added her biometric key to the register. “Room four hundred and three.”
They retrieved their packs from the locker and took the drop chute to the fourth floor. Catherine escorted everyone through the security barrier, which had been keyed to her already, then to their room.
It was small, although she was relieved to see a full service terminal in the corner. It was a modern one with tank display capabilities.
While everyone used the bathroom, she contacted Connell and gave him her location.
Almost instantly, an incoming message buzzed her.
Catherine looked around at everyone behind her. “I need to take this in private.”
Brant instantly got to his feet. “I’ll stay outside the door, just in case you need me.”
Kemp opened the door and let them out. At the door, Brant looked back. “Tell him I said hello.”
The door shut behind them and Catherine locked it from the terminal. Then she accepted the incoming message and switched on the tank display.
Bedivere’s image formed just in front of the sealed, sterile bed. He was sitting in his pilot’s chair on the bridge of the ship. The display cut off just beyond the chair. Catherine ran her gaze over him, looking for differences. For explanations.
Yet he was simply Bedivere. He looked tired, but that was all. There was no light of madness in his eyes. He was not twitching with psychotic palsy.
Catherine made herself breathe. Hot tears were building up, although she wouldn’t let him see them. She couldn’t afford to.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “The known worlds think you’ve gone rogue and I don’t know what to think.”
He held up his hand to halt her tirade. She was done, though. That was the only question to which she wanted an answer. The rest was just details.
“I know what they’re saying. I’ve been monitoring,” he said quietly. Then his mouth pulled up into a half smile that seemed sad. “You look wonderful, Cat. I wish I could touch you, even just to wipe that tear away.”
And she realized she was crying, after all. The tears were tracking down her cheeks and her chest felt as if it was in a vise. It was a sob that she was just barely holding in.
“Bedivere. Please…” Please what? She wasn’t sure what she was asking. Her voice shook.
He closed his eyes and she saw his chest rise and fall. A heavy sigh.
Then he opened his eyes and leaned forward, his long fingers threading themselves together. “You have to listen, Cat. I don’t know how long the encryption will hold on this channel and I can’t afford to be exposed.”
“Listen to what? You know you have to come in, don’t you? You have to explain yourself. Whatever the reason, whatever you did this for…you have to show them you’re not crazy.”
“I’m not crazy,” he replied. “I just can’t come in yet.”
“The longer you stay out there, the longer you hide, the worse it looks. And the farms, Bedivere….”
“I have things to do, things that I must do first.”
Catherine stared at him. “What things?” she asked helplessly.
He shook his head. There was pain in his eyes. “I can’t tell you anything, Cat. I can’t explain myself. Please…you have to trust me.”
Catherine wrapped her arms around herself. “And then what? Sit at home and wait for you to be shot out of the skies? You laid waste to an entire continent, Bedivere! They won’t be able to get near that place for generations. And now you tell me there’s more to come?”
“You’re getting angry because I won’t give you answers. I understand that—”
“You’re damn right I’m mad! Nothing you’ve done makes sense. Nothing! Maybe they’re right, after all.”
“You believe that I’m a machine gone mad? That I’ve been aping human feelings to trick people? To trick you?”
“I don’t know what to think! What you’ve done has tied me up into such a box of doubt, I don’t know the way out.”
“I’m sorry, Cat.”
“Don’t be sorry! Come home! Explain yourself!”
Again, he just shook his head in a tired arc.
All her anger drained, quickly, as if a plug had been pulled. She sagged in the chair, staring at him. “I want to believe you,” she whispered. “I want to believe that you’re doing this for some grand reason.”
He didn’t answer.
She closed her eyes. “You’re scaring me.”
“Then we have that in common,” he said softly, making her look at him again. “I’ve been afraid since the day I found Interspace.”
“Afraid of what?” She could barely speak past the hard knot in her throat.
“That because I am not a man, I won’t be enough for the great Catherine Shahrazad. I have been afraid that the novelty would wear off and that one day you would look at me with the expression in your eyes that you have right now.”
True fear swamped her. Before she could think of what to say to stop the conversation from heading down this awful route, Bedivere reached over to the console she couldn’t see. “Goodbye, Cat.”
His image disappeared.
Chapter Eight
Gate Station - Barros IV, Barros System, Aibosian Cluster. FY 10.092.
Brant found a privateer that would get them back to Sunita in fifteen days. It wasn’t the express four day jump the high liner could have done. However, the ship had unimpeachable references from all corners of the core worlds and the captain was asking a reasonable price.
He paid for four berths, then sent a message to Lilly to bring everyone up to the gate station.
Catherine was still a silent ghost. She had barely spoken to anyone since she had emerged from the hotel room after her call to Bedivere.
“Is he crazy?” Kemp had asked flatly.
Catherine had looked at him, her face pale. “He’s not himself.”
That had sent a chill through Brant’s middle.
As Catherine had lost interest in mundane concerns, Brant made the trip to the gate station to trac
k down passage back home. After sending his message to Lilly, he found a bar and tried to drown his unhappiness. The brandy didn’t taste the same when drinking it on his own. He quit after two rounds and watched the tank game until they arrived.
Kemp found him there five hours later and well into the feature game. “Who’s winning?”
“Damned if I know,” Brant confessed. “Brain won’t shut up.”
“I know what you mean. Lilita and Catherine went to a diner farther down the strip. I said I’d come and find you. Honestly, though, I wanted a drink so bad I could taste it.”
Brant raised his finger, then a second. The barman nodded.
“Coming right up,” he told Kemp.
“I can’t stand looking at her face. That look in her eyes…she looks like one of those war victims that you see in historical footage. Big eyes, sad all over. As though they’ve seen the end of the world and just barely survived it.”
“That’s Catherine for you,” Brant said. “She is a survivor. She’ll come round. She just has to process it first.”
The barman delivered the drinks and Kemp lifted his gratefully. “I’ll be glad to get on board and put this behind us.” He knocked back the shot, then grimaced and looked at the glass. “What in Glave’s name is this?”
“Brandy.”
Kemp waved over the barman. “Place like this has got to have some distilled Soward labels around. I’m buying.”
Brant sighed.
* * * * *
The distilled wine was disgusting. It was too thick in the mouth and coated his tongue and teeth. Brant was silently grateful when the tank game flickered off and news feeds began to stream across the empty space where the players had been seconds before.
…Shanterry way station destroyed…casualty reports still compiling…all ships ordered to divert…
Kemp put his glass down. “Hellion’s heels….”
Everyone in the bar was watching the streamers, some of them blearily so.
...casualty reports still compiling…all ships ordered to divert…
Varken Rise Page 8
