Firebird (22 page)

“That's not good,” Alex said. “Where is it now?”

“Approximately seven and a half kilometers. But coming fast.”

“How long to get here, Gabe?”

“I would say about six minutes.”
He sounded worried.
“What are you going to do?”

Alex looked across the front of the church, past the altar, to the other exit. “I don't think we can get out over there, either.”

His gaze went back to the marble staircase. It went up and down. “Gabe,” he said, “we have a stairway and an elevator on this side. Can you see where they lead?”

“I can't actually
see
them, Alex, but they'd have to provide egress to the bell tower.”

“Alex,” I said, “there's no way Gabe can do a pickup out of the tower. The wings won't let him get close enough. Unless we want to try some serious aerial acrobatics.”

“There's an exit directly onto the church roof,”
said Gabe.

“That's what we want. Come on,” Alex said, “let's go.”

They were still battering the doors at the front of the church. I pushed a button for the elevator and it opened, but Alex pulled me away. “We'll use the stairway,” he said. “It's safer.”

“Why not ride up?”

He tilted his head at the open elevator. “They might have control of it. If we get in there, we might not be able to get out.”

“You worry too much,” I said.

We started up the stairs.

“Alex,”
said Gabe.
“A large truck has arrived. It's unloading smaller versions of the spider. Looks like about six of them.”

We climbed four or five flights. I'm not sure now. But we reached a landing with a door and a shoulder-high, foot-wide window covered by a dusty curtain. It looked out across the roof. Alex released a bolt and tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.

I got my cutter and he stood back to give me room. Below us, we heard a loud bang and the sound of the doors splintering.

“They're into the building,”
said Gabe.
“Bots.”

I started cutting.

“Okay,” Alex said. “We'll be on the roof in a minute.” The lander was visible through the window. Coming down.

I heard a clicking sound at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Hurry,”
said Gabe.

Alex looked uneasily down the stairs. “Gabe, what are we dealing with here?”

“The bots appear to be specialized for construction purposes, so they may be equipped with lasers. I assume they can rig explosives. A few are carrying what appear to be blunt instruments. Most are on multiple limbs, but I see three or four that are bipedal.”

“Gabe, can you tell whether they're directed by a single source. Or—?”

“They are part of a network, Alex. But they seem to be individual intelligences.”

“Okay, Gabe. Thanks.”

“And the spider's here, too.”
He flashed a picture of the thing. It was striding in off the avenue and, as we watched, it moved swiftly across the lawn among the cars and trucks to the base of the church wall.

And it began to climb toward the cross.

TWENTY

In hoc signo vinces.

—Reportedly seen in the sky, along with a cross, by Constantine, prior to the battle of the Milvian Bridge

“Hurry up,”
said Gabe.
“Quick!”

I got the door loose, finally, opened it, and looked down the sloping roof toward the front of the church. A traffic jam had formed out on the street. We were close to the peak, in the shadow of the bell tower. Gabe was hovering just above the roof, as close as he could get.

“It's here,”
Gabe said.
“Too late.”

A pair of grapplers, attached to tentacles, sailed over the edge of the roof, dropped, and took hold. Two stalks rose into view. Each held a flexible lens. An eye.

Alex shouted for me to move, simultaneously pushing me aside and stepping out with his pulser in one hand.

“Get back inside,”
said Gabe.
“You don't have time.”

The thing clambered smoothly up onto the roof, long, flexible struts and golden lenses and more tentacles. A spade-shaped disk held everything together. Alex fired and one of the tentacles whipped toward us and wrapped around his arm. The pulser went flying. Alex yelped, then screamed at me to go back. It lifted him into the air.

Gabe roared forward, revving his engines, making all the noise he could—which wasn't much. Alex yelled something as he was hauled toward the edge of the roof. But Gabe's charge distracted the thing. I took a desperate swipe at the tentacle with my cutter, got lucky, and sliced through it. Alex came tumbling down. Gabe roared past, just out of its reach, and began to circle back.

Alex half rolled, half scrambled to his feet. And while Gabe continued to distract the thing, we stumbled back inside. “For God's sake, Gabe,” Alex said as we pushed the door shut, “stay out of its reach.”

“Alex,” I said, “you okay?”

“Yes.” He looked shaken.

“I'm glad to hear it. What do we do now?”

“Hide.”

We slid the bolt back in place. Through the window, we could see the spider standing quietly, watching the lander. Gabe was gaining some altitude.

Alex looked around for a weapon and broke a long piece of wood off the doorframe. I had my cutter.

“Alex,”
Gabe said,
“you might want to warn them before you go ahead with the plan.”

There were sounds at the bottom of the staircase. More clicks. Starting up. Alex tightened his grip on the piece of frame.

“What plan?” I said.

Good idea.
He mouthed the words.

“What's a good idea?”

“Follow my lead.”

“Alex, what's a good idea?”

He warned me off with a raised hand. No time for explanations. He spoke into the link: “Chase, I think we're trapped.”

He held it in place for me to use. “I agree.” Dumb, but it was the best I could think of.

“I can't see that we have any choice now.”

“Probably not.”

“But even if we can't get out of here alive, we'll have to do what we came here to do.”

“Yes,” I said.

The noises on the staircase were getting closer.

He covered the link. “Ask me why we're using the links.”

“What?”

“Just do it. Ask me.”

“Alex, why are we using the links?”

“Because, when we destroy this blasphemous temple, Okar would not want us to destroy these unhappy infidels along with it. It's not entirely their fault that the darkness has fallen on them.”

“Ah,” I said. “Yes. We would not wish to see them mangled and burning after we blow this place to hell.”

“It is behavior that is required of us. It is written in the book to give fair warning. That they may save themselves if they are so inclined.”

I whispered: “What makes you think they're listening?”

“Right now, it's our best shot.” His voice took on a note of resignation. “Chase, I'm sorry it's come to this. But we can't allow these acts of blasphemy to continue. We have no choice in the matter and we haven't much time.”

“I know.”

“They're coming up now. Take a moment to pray to Okar, to thank Him for all His gifts. And then we'll do it.”

The sounds had reached the landing below us. Suddenly, they hesitated.

We looked at each other. Alex said nothing but mouthed the words,
Let's hope.

“Alex?”

“Yes, Chase?”

“Good-bye. I've been proud to know you. You are a good and decent servant of the Lord.”

Whatever was on the staircase started back down. Rapidly.

“You, too, Chase. Hand me the detonator.”

Watching them clear out was a joy that will stay with me forever. We couldn't see them, from our hideaway near the bell tower, but we could
hear
them, doors slamming, engines turning on, cars and trucks backing into others and scraping bumpers as they tried to turn around. Bots scrambling, running, stumbling out of the church, adding to the mayhem. Vehicles bounced into the streets without waiting for oncoming traffic. Brakes screeched, and cars plowed into one another.

It was magnificent.

We went out onto the roof and waited for Gabe to come back down. We'd been out there only a few seconds, and Gabe was still pretty high, when a bot followed us through the door. It was bipedal, made of black and red metal. It possessed a smaller version of the lenses we'd seen on the spider.
“You must think,”
it said,
“that we're all stupid.”
Its right arm mutated into a cutting device with multiple blades. It started toward us. The arm was humming, and the blades began rotating.

I turned the cutter on it and the blade reddened and splattered, I caught a piece of it and I thought it was going to burn through my arm. Alex still held the broken doorframe. He stepped in and hammered the bot. It staggered backward, fell, and clattered down the slanted roof, with Alex right behind it. When it seemed on the verge of halting its slide, Alex kicked it over the side. Then everything was quiet, except for the hum of the antigravs in the approaching lander.

“Not all stupid,” said Alex. “Just you.”

“Brilliant, Gabe,” said Alex, when we were on board and soaring toward the clouds.

“Thank you, Alex.”

“I think you bailed us out,” I said.

“Yes.”

“That was a great idea.”

“I like to make a contribution when I can.”

TWENTY-ONE

The road to Heaven is not a six-lane throughway. It is narrow, there are many curves, it skirts deep canyons, and in certain areas it is subject to flooding. There are potholes, and sometimes a fallen tree may block progress. But keep going. Do not forget that your obligation is not only to yourself but to those who travel with you, and to the strangers you will encounter along the way. Do these things, and you will surely get there. Keep your sense of humor, stop occasionally to listen to the wind in the trees, and to look at the river, and you may even find that you will enjoy the ride.

—Bobby Haywood,
Heaven-Bound
, 3211
C.E.
(Believed to be the sourcebook for the movement that became so popular on Villanueva)

“I
do
wish you'd be more careful,”
said Gabe, as we gained altitude.
“I'm not sure where I'll be if you get yourselves killed.”

Alex nodded impatiently. “Later, Gabe. Chase, let me see your arm.”

It was scorched. But not badly.

Alex got some aloevium and rubbed it into the burn. Then he wrapped it and admonished me to use more care. “You sound like Gabe,” I said.

“I'm serious.”

“And I,”
said Gabe,
“am not happy.”

Alex didn't look as if he was in a mood to have this argument. “This isn't the first time we've had a problem,” he said. “I haven't heard you complain before—”

“Maybe I'm getting old. But I have the distinct impression you are becoming increasingly reckless. And when you put yourself at risk, you endanger not only me, but Chase as well.”

Alex glanced my way. I kept a straight face. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe you have a point.”

“Of course I do. Please, in the future, exercise some care.”
Somewhere, back in his relays, Gabe was smiling.

I was still pretty thoroughly rattled. But I didn't say anything. “That
was
kind of stupid,” he said. “Maybe we can do the rest of this without getting out of the
Belle-Marie.”

“I think that's the best idea you've had in a while.” But when I thought about it, I recognized the tone. “You saw something.”

“Maybe.”

“Okay. What was it?”

“Angels.” He sank back in his chair. I sighed and set course for orbit.

We rose out of the clouds. “Any sign of pursuit, Gabe?” I asked.

“There are two aircraft down there, running on parallel courses, but they don't seem to pose a threat, and in any case they're showing no indication of being able to keep up with us. I will inform you if the situation changes.”

We rode quietly for a few minutes, Alex gazing straight ahead, his mind elsewhere. Then he came back. “Gabe,” he said, “do a search for me. Go through the material we have on the churches.”

“Okay. What am I looking for?”

“References to
Heaven-bound.”

“Very good. Working. And the two aircraft are turning away.”

The voice from Highgate broke in:
“Have you suffered any casualties?”

“Negative, Highgate.”

“You did cause some damage on the ground, however. It will be included in the report.”

“Thank you. Wouldn't want you to leave anything out.”

“Your attitude will also be noted.”

“Okay, Alex,”
said Gabe,
“I have several references.”

“Show me.”

The auxiliary screen lit up:

The Heaven-Bound Soul: A User's Manual

People You Are Bound to Meet in Heaven

The Boundless Heavens Attest to the Eternal Glory

Bound for Heaven: Your Brain Is Your Link to God

Bound for Heaven: Riding the Celestial Express

The list expanded and filled the page, filled a second, and started on a third. Alex broke in: “How many references do you have?”

“Don't know yet. Counting essays, speeches, individual journals, letters, even some commercial listings, nine hundred thirty-seven so far.”

“Okay. Hold it. How many of these are contemporary to the Villanueva era?”

“Nineteen. The others are from histories written after the general collapse and various types of fiction and speculation.”

“Okay. Stay with the nineteen. And let's narrow it a bit more. Add
symbol. Emblem. Statue. Totem. Watchword. Regalia
.” He looked at me. “What am I missing, Chase?”

“Well, maybe
representation. Talisman.
And
glyph.
Maybe I could be more help if I knew what we were looking for.”

Alex nodded. “Good,” he said. “Use those, too, Gabe.”

“Okay.”

This time we got three entries: