Mariposa blinked. For a moment, she wondered what life would have been like if her parents had expected her to become a butterfly in some way. “But your Elders entrusted this mission to you. And you're the only person from Jeroboam in the Sol System, so that makes you the closest thing to an ambassador your planet has, right?"
Raising his eyebrows, Cooper said, “You're trying to give me diplomatic immunity, so I can return home instead of sitting here as a POW?"
"More than that. If you're recognized as a diplomat, maybe you can negotiate an end to this stupid war!"
Cooper pinched at stubble on his chin. “That's a thought."
*Mariposa,* Verdun sent through her implant, *you are walking a thin line. I do not approve of this.*
*Do you disapprove?*
*If his intentions are hostile, you are giving him an opening to transport a potentially dangerous cargo to Earth.*
*I will inspect that ship and its cargo down to the last molecule. If there's any danger, I swear I will not let it through.*
Verdun did not reply through her implant. Instead, its voice came over the speaker. “Mr. Cooper, do you have any evidence that you have authority to negotiate on behalf of your world's government to end the state of war?"
Wincing, Cooper said, “The Elders never mentioned the war."
"Then you are hardly in a position to end it,” said Verdun.
Cooper snapped his fingers. “Wait, I think I have something. If you'll give me access to my ship's computer? I have a message from the First Elder."
*Letting him access his ship is a risk,* Verdun sent to Mariposa.
*I believe him when he says he knows nothing about the war.*
After a moment Verdun said, “I am inside your ship's systems now. Your network security measures are rather primitive. Where is the file?"
Cooper's eyes widened briefly. “You're an AI?"
"Of course,” said Verdun.
"But you sound like a real person."
Mariposa chuckled. “I'm sure he means that as a compliment, Verdun.” Focusing her attention on Cooper, she said, “High-level AIs like Verdun are so far beyond human that it takes only a small fraction of their capability to act like a ‘person.’ And since Verdun is the head of Earth Customs, you don't want to insult it again."
Cooper saluted her and said, “Yes, ma'am. No offense intended, Verdun. The file I need is tagged as a personal letter, dated around the time I left, which was March 31, 2997. The sender was Isaiah Cooper, First Elder of the True Church."
The screen inside the quarantine cell flickered and displayed the face of a gray-haired man. As he began to speak, his name registered and Mariposa saw the clear family resemblance between him and Cooper.
Cooper moved to the computer console at the desk. “If you'll give me access to forward to the right place?"
After a few moments of fiddling, Cooper resumed playback.
"A final word, my son,” said the man on screen. “I know that in your travels you have not always held to the strictures of our faith. The temptations of the fallen have tested you, and you have been found wanting."
Glancing at Cooper, Mariposa saw his face redden.
Cooper's father continued, “But the spirits of the Founders cry out to us from Limbo. Do whatever you must to get their remains to Earth, and neither God nor the Church will count it amiss. Go now with my blessing."
Cooper stopped the recording. “I think that means I have authority to make peace, if necessary."
Mariposa nodded slowly. “It should be enough to at least get you a hearing. What do you think, Verdun?"
"I agree,” said Verdun. Through Mariposa's link, it added, *I've been through all the data on that pitiful computer, and there is nothing to indicate his story is false or that he is a threat in any way.*
* * * *
October 18, 2999 C.E.
"Your credentials have been provisionally approved, Mr. Ambassador.” Mariposa smiled at Cooper as her implant transmitted the codes to unlock the quarantine cell. “Someone from the External Affairs Ministry is taking the next shuttle up from Quito and will be here in a few hours. In the meantime, I've been authorized to play tour guide."
Cooper got up from his chair. “I'd be happy to fly down instead."
She raised an eyebrow. “Patience, Mr. Ambassador. You have much to learn about diplomacy."
He bobbed his head. “Sorry."
"You should be,” she said. “I almost thought you didn't want me as your tour guide. Not very diplomatic."
"I couldn't ask for a better guide,” he said, flashing her a smile. “You've been helpful beyond the call of duty.” He stepped out of the cell and took a deep breath. “Lead the way."
"The station was originally built as a beamed-energy power satellite that could double as a laser ablator for defense against asteroid impacts,” said Mariposa as she took Cooper into Station 27's Hall of History. She pointed to a holopic of a light-sail probe. “That's Chiron I, the first probe sent to Alpha Centauri. Our central laser helped push it up to 7 percent of c."
Nodding, Cooper said, “Impressive."
Mariposa shrugged. “The Pearson-Chakrabarti drive was perfected after that, actually, so the FTL probes got there first."
"And what about this?” He pointed to a holopic of an oblong blob.
"That's the ‘Hot Potato'—a small asteroid that was used to test the laser ablation technique. We shifted its orbit by using our laser to heat chunks of it so they'd blow off."
"Wow.” Cooper raised his eyebrows. “You stopped it from hitting Earth?"
"No, it was just a test. It wasn't on a collision course.” She felt suddenly embarrassed that she was bragging about historical details that had happened long before she had been assigned to Station 27—long before she was born, even.
"But still, I had no idea your station was here to help fend off asteroids. I thought it was just to fend off annoying foreigners."
"You're not annoying,” said Mariposa. “But the laser's just used for research now—we don't do asteroid defense anymore. Any asteroid that gets close is merely captured by countergrav beams and lowered gently to Earth to be used for resources. In fact, we have ships out in the Belt sending asteroids toward Earth."
His brow winkled. “You don't worry that one'll get through?"
She blinked. The thought had never occurred to her. She queried her implant and was rapidly reassured. “There are multiple redundant systems in place. The AIs would never have allowed it otherwise."
After a moment, he nodded slowly. “You place a lot of faith in these AIs. Doesn't that worry you, to rely on soulless beings?"
"Soulless?” Deciding that it might offend him to mention that she didn't believe humans had souls, Mariposa said, “Have you found souled beings to be completely reliable?"
He laughed. “I guess not."
* * * *
November 21, 2999 C.E.
As the molecular scanner began its final sweep of the cargo hold, Mariposa turned her attention again to the hand-painted urns that lined the walls. Each contained the ashes of one of Jeroboam's founding colonists and was decorated with a portrait of the deceased. Calligraphic letters spelled out the name, date of birth, and date of death.
One urn stood alone on a shelf: Jeroboam Cooper—Born July 16, 2352—Died April 27, 2466. The picture showed a smiling, wrinkled face surrounded by flowing white hair.
Cooper's ancestor, she surmised. He must have been the leader of the colony, if they named it after him. The painting made him seem different from the stern authoritarian she would have imagined.
The scanner beeped to signal it was done. Mariposa accessed the results through her implant. This was the third thorough scan she'd done, and it confirmed the other two. There were no unknown molecules on board. The contents of the urns matched the profile of cremated human remains. Every object on board had been identified, and the only objects that might be considered weapons were a magnesium flare gun in an emergency k
it and the knives in the galley.
*All clear,* she sent to Verdun, along with the scanner's report.
*Your instincts regarding Shear-jashub Cooper were apparently correct. It is one of the paradoxes of AIs, that we may understand more than humans about everything except humans.*
Mariposa chuckled mentally. *Perhaps it's just that when we think we're right, we don't overanalyze things.*
*You underestimate the human capability for overanalysis. The UW Special Subcommittee for Jeroboam has just concluded its third week of hearings with unanimous agreement that further hearings should be held beginning December third. If this matter were being considered by a committee of AIs, we would have reached a consensus decision in seconds.*
Mariposa exited into the umbilical connecting Cooper's ship to Station 27. *But would it have been the right decision?* she asked as she replaced the quarantine seal on the ship's hatch.
*It would have been the right decision based on the available information. That is the best that anyone, human or AI, can do.*
* * * *
December 24, 2999 C.E.
"Merry Christmas!” said Mariposa when Cooper answered the door to his temporary diplomatic quarters. She held out a small box wrapped in red plastic film. Her research had revealed that red was one of the traditional colors of the holiday.
Cooper took the box and stared at it. There were dark circles under his eyes—he must not be getting much sleep since the subcommittee adjourned the previous week, postponing any further action until January. “I'm sorry, I didn't get you anything. I didn't know you celebrated Christmas."
Mariposa waved away his concern. “I couldn't have accepted a gift anyway. It would look like an attempt at bribery."
He held up the box. “Nobody's concerned that you might be bribing me?"
Shrugging, Mariposa said, “Nothing in the regs about that. I'm not violating some Jeroboam law, am I?"
Cooper shook his head. “Come on in. I was just recording a letter to my family."
She followed him into the living room and sat down on the couch. He sat on a chair facing her.
"Open it,” she said.
He complied, unwrapping the plastic to find a clear diamondglass box that appeared empty. He looked up at her with questioning eyes.
"It's a common tourist item, so I was hoping you hadn't bought one already,” said Mariposa. “It's called ‘A Breath of Earth.’”
"What is it?"
"Compressed air from Earth's atmosphere. I know you're disappointed at being stuck here on the station instead of going down to Earth. So I thought I'd bring a little bit of Earth to you."
Cooper smiled. “Thank you."
"Here's the best part: the reason the air is compressed is so they could fit 1022 molecules inside, while still making it small enough to fit in a pocket."
Rotating the box, Cooper frowned at it and said, “How much air is that?"
"Only about a liter, so it's not under extreme pressure. But there's a reason for that particular number. Not only is it about the average size of a human breath, but also, due to the mixing of the atmosphere over time, the odds are that box contains molecules breathed by just about everybody who ever lived on Earth. Even someone born three thousand years ago."
Cooper leaned forward and gently placed the box on the coffee table. “I will treasure it always."
They sat silently for a few moments, looking at the box.
"Technically, the new millennium doesn't start until January 1, 3001,” said Mariposa, “so you really have a year left before your deadline."
Shaking his head, Cooper said, “That's not the way we count it."
"I'm sorry about the bureaucracy,” said Mariposa.
"It's not your fault.” Cooper sighed. “I'm the one who has failed my ancestors."
"No, you've done everything you could,” said Mariposa. “It's their fault, not yours. They're the ones who declared war, not you."
He didn't answer.
"Surely God will not leave their spirits in...” Mariposa queried her implant as to what Cooper's father had said about the location of his ancestors. “...in Limbo forever, just because you miss the deadline by a few weeks or months."
"No, not forever,” said Cooper. “Just until the next millennium. Just another thousand years."
* * * *
December 31, 2999 C.E.
Mariposa was inspecting a racing yacht when Verdun interrupted her. *We have a security situation. Cooper's ship has forcibly undocked from the station.*
The date made Cooper's plan obvious. *He's going to try to land his ship on Earth.*
*That was what I projected as his probable course of action.*
Mariposa let out a slow breath. *I'll try to talk him out of it.*
*Good. He is not responding to me, but human males tend to pay more attention to attractive females.*
*Flatterer.* Mariposa excused herself from the yacht owner and hurried to the nearest control cubicle so she could communicate with video. *What's PlanDef doing?*
*Nothing.*
*Why not?* Mariposa sat down in the cubicle, which recognized the authorization code from her implant and lit up its screens.
*Bringing this matter to the attention of my fellow AIs would involve a certain loss of face on my part. That is why I hope you can solve this quickly.*
As Mariposa tried to establish a communications link with Cooper, she directed the cubicle to show his ship and its projected course. A red curve showed the ship hitting atmosphere in approximately three minutes.
"Cooper? Can you hear me?” she said. “Talk to me."
There was no response for several seconds. Then Cooper's face appeared on screen. “Remember when you said I had done everything I could? I realized there was one thing left."
"Planetary Defense will not let you land. Turn around now, before they're forced to stop you."
"Just let me do what I've sworn to do, and you can arrest me, put me on trial, execute me—I don't care."
*Verdun,* Mariposa sent, *is there any way we could transfer custody to a customs facility on Earth, while maintaining quarantine?*
*If there were, I would have suggested such a plan when this problem first presented itself.*
"Please, Cooper. Just come back and eventually this will all get sorted out."
Cooper sighed. “Since we met, you have gone out of your way to help me. Why?"
Mariposa frowned. “I guess it's because I thought you needed help."
"And I've repaid your goodness with trouble.” He sighed again. “So I'm sorry."
"I forgive you. Just come back.” Mariposa watched the track of Cooper's ship as it moved steadily closer to Earth.
Verdun's voice broke in on the channel. “Unless you begin to change course away from Earth in the next thirty seconds, I will have no choice but to inform Planetary Defense that your ship is a possible threat."
"I don't want to hurt anyone,” said Cooper. “Mariposa's searched it—she knows it's safe."
"That doesn't matter,” said Verdun. “Your ship cannot land while the embargo remains in place."
From the screen, Cooper's eyes stared into hers. “Mariposa, you wouldn't really shoot me down, would you?"
She shook her head. “It's not up to me. Verdun's my boss, not the other way around."
Cooper shut his eyes and his lips moved silently.
Verdun said, “Now, Cooper. This is your last chance."
Cooper's eyes snapped open. “Changing course now."
Relief swept over Mariposa. She focused on the screen showing Cooper's projected course, but the red line curved more steeply toward Earth. “The other way, Cooper!"
"I'm, uh, experiencing a guidance system malfunction,” said Cooper. “Mayday. Mayday. Request permission to make an emergency landing."
He was such a bad liar that she almost laughed in spite of the situation. But it might work. *Verdun, a ship emergency gives a legal pretext for Cooper to land.*
; *I already notified PlanDef when he refused to change course away from Earth. They agree Cooper is a possible threat. It's out of my jurisdiction now.*
*I swear I went over that entire ship, and there aren't any weapons—*
*If he were to crash into a populated area, there could be thousands of casualties. PlanDef is powering up the countergrav beams.*
"Cooper,” said Mariposa, “it's not going to work. PlanDef considers you a threat."
"I'm unarmed."
"Your ship itself is a weapon.” Mariposa leaned toward the vidcam. “They're powering up the countergrav beams they use for asteroid defense. Turn away so they'll know you're not a threat."
On her screen, Cooper's ship reached the end of the red curve, and the view zoomed and created another red line to show the ship's projected path through the atmosphere. A yellow circle showed the probable zone of impact, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. After a moment she realized it was just to the west of the International Date Line—where the new millennium would begin in just under fifteen minutes.
*He's not headed for a populated area,* she sent to Verdun.
*We know. But he might change course and hit somewhere in the Americas.*
The view from Cooper's ship began vibrating. Cooper reached out and made a slight adjustment to the autopilot's course.
"Nice thick atmo you've got,” said Cooper. “On Jeroboam, the air's a lot thinner."
"Slow down, Cooper. Don't go in ballistic like a weapon."
"I want to land before they can stop me.” He grinned.
Mariposa raised her hands up by her face, then dropped them to her lap. “Don't you get it? There is no way you can land. The countergravs will stop you. They can stop asteroids—they won't even need full power against you."
"At minimum power,” said Verdun, “your ship will not only be stopped, it will be pushed away at approximately thirty-five gees."
The energy seemed to drain from Cooper's face. “No, you can't let them do that. I need to be here when the millennium starts."
"Once the magnets are spinning fast enough, the beam will be focused on you,” said Verdun. “You have less than three minutes. If your religion has some predeath ritual, I suggest you engage in it now."
"Too soon,” Cooper whispered. “I timed it wrong."
Analog SFF, May 2008 Page 12
