Firebird (25 page)

The missile was visible by then.

“Gabe,” I said, “get us out of here.” I grabbed Alex and dragged him on board as we rose off the ground. Alex half fell into his own seat. He reached for the box, got hold of it, and hung on while the harness slipped down around his shoulders. The outer hatch closed.

I took over from Gabe and went full throttle. The missile was coming up our tail, and it was close enough to count bolts. I cut sharp left. It followed.

It was big and clumsy, slow to respond, and I had a suspicion it was something that the AIs had designed and assembled on their own. There was no record of armed combat or even of military tension on Villanueva. So maybe we'd gotten lucky.

I turned again, toward a cluster of very tall trees. Alex sucked in his breath but said nothing, and the missile stayed with us. At the last moment, when even Gabe was making gasping sounds, I pulled up. The missile ripped into the trees and blew. The explosion rocked us, and something tore into the hull. But I got us back under control, and we weren't losing altitude or coming apart. Gabe started describing damage, damage to the tail assembly, hole ripped through the cargo compartment, main cabin leaking air, communication pod not functioning, sensors out, and one tread disabled.
“We will have trouble finding the
Belle-Marie,” Gabe said.
“There wasn't time to get the sensors stowed.”

“AG?” I asked.

“It seems to be all right.”

“Well,”
said Alex,
“I'm glad there's nothing serious.”

“We should be okay,” I said. I'd been in enough crashes in my time.

Alex put a hand on my shoulder.
“Time for a security measure.”
He proceeded to open both airlock hatches, inner and outer, and he left them ajar.

I started to ask what he was doing, but then I understood. If Charlie showed any sign of being something other than what he pretended, if he said the wrong thing or made any threat, he would get tossed immediately. This, of course, was why Alex had insisted on the suits.

I hoped Charlie wasn't carrying a bomb.

“Did it get the school?”
Charlie asked.

“No,”
said Alex.
“It was nowhere near it.”

“Good. I'm grateful for that.”

“It's over now.”

“Not really. There are others trapped down there. With no hope of escape.”

Alex took a deep breath.
“I'm sorry.”

“How high are we?”
Charlie said.

“About twelve hundred meters.”

“I don't guess,”
he continued,
“your systems are at all compatible with me, are they? I'd like very much to be able to see the sky and the ground, to
feel
what's happening.”

“You can't see, Charlie?” I asked.

“No. I can pick up sound, but that is all.”

I wasn't sure whether we could arrange it. But it would be too dangerous to tie him in until we knew more about him. Maybe even then— “I'm sorry,” I said. “It wouldn't work. We'll look into it later.”

Inside my helmet, a blue light came on. Gabe wanted to talk to me privately. I switched on his channel. “Go ahead, Gabe.”

“Another missile incoming, Chase. But it does not seem to present a threat to you or to the lander. We are both too far away and moving too quickly.”

“Okay. So why—?”

“It is on course for the school. I thought you might want to let Charlie know.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” I didn't say anything. Gabe kept me informed, and, two and a half minutes later, the missile impacted.

Alex looked at me. Tell him.

I did.

“I envy you,”
Charlie said, as we rose toward orbit.
“To travel through the sky. To sail from world to world. You really
are
from another place, aren't you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You do not know how fortunate you are. I have seen nothing for seven thousand years except the interior of the school. Even in the days when children and teachers roamed the halls, I could not see outside save for those parts of the grounds visible through three windows. I have never seen the ocean. Never seen a mountain. I know what moonlight looks like, but I have never seen the Moon.”

“We'll get you set up,”
said Alex,
“as soon as we get home.”

“If you do not mind my asking, how much longer will you be staying here? “

“Not long,”
said Alex.
“A couple of days. I hope not much more than that.”

“It's odd,”
Charlie said.
“I've been patient so long, and suddenly I find that I cannot wait to go elsewhere.”

“I can understand that.”

“You are Chase.”

“Yes.”

“I'm glad to know you, Chase. Thank you for what you have done. You and Alex.”

“You're welcome, Charlie. Tell me, how did you come by that name?”

“Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“I was named for a local politician, Charles Ackermann. But the kids changed it pretty quickly.”

“I see.”

“If I'd had my preferences, I'd have gone for
Spike.”

“Spike? Why?”

“There was a local band leader once, in the good times. And I was quite skilled at reproducing the sounds of the entire group. Including the vocalists.”

Alex smiled.
“Gabe's pretty good at that, too. Maybe the two of you can form a group.”

I was a bit more prudent in maneuvering the lander than I would normally have been. With a door not quite closed, and the sensors down, and assorted other problems, I didn't want to run into any turbulence. Eventually, we left the atmosphere behind and entered orbit. I matched the
Belle-Marie's
altitude, and went looking for a familiar landmark.
Anything
we'd passed over. Eventually, I found the horsehead lake.

I put us back on our original course, and slowed down, dropping well below orbital velocity. That was going to burn fuel, but it was a good way to find the
Belle-Marie.
“Or rather,” I said, “to let her find
us.”
Because she'd be coming up behind us.

“Are we in orbit?”
asked Charlie.

“Not exactly,” I said. “But almost.”

He seemed excited.
“I used to run programs for the kids. We had a chamber where they could sit and experience all the physical reactions to achieving orbit. Or traveling off-world. My favorite was a trip to Korporalla.”

“Which is—?”

“I'm sorry. It's the sixth planet in the system. It's about twice as massive as Villanueva. Completely covered with frozen methane. It has huge mountains. It's extraordinarily beautiful. The students loved skimming across its surface.”

“I'm impressed,”
said Alex,
“that you remember it after so many years.”

“Memory does not fade. Biological memory does, apparently. You should consider that a blessing. But mine does not. I remember every child. Every name. How they looked. Where they sat.”

I switched over to Alex's channel, so Charlie could not hear me. “I don't think there's anything to worry about,” I said.

“Nor do I. But we'll stay with the plan.”

The
Belle-Marie
found us about an hour later.
“It's very exciting,”
said Charlie.
“I can't believe this is actually happening.”

We slipped into the launch bay, and I locked the lander down. I disconnected Gabe while Alex pushed the door open.

“Can you feel the gravity, Charlie?”
Alex asked.

“No, I can't. I would need a detector of some sort. But I cannot tell you how glad I am to be here.”
He paused.
“Is there access to music?”

“Yes, Charlie,” I said. “What would you like to hear?”

“Something soft and soothing.”

“I assume it's been a long time since you've heard any music?”

“Only the scores from some of the educational presentations. But I've lost interest in those.”

“I guess. Something soft—”

“Soft. Loud. Actually I do not care as long as it is music.”

As planned, and without telling him, we left Charlie in the backseat. The lander itself was a wreck. It was scorched, and a few more holes had been punched in it than I realized. We'd been lucky.

When we were clear, Belle took it over and moved it back outside and closed the launch doors.
“How far away do you want it?”
she asked.

“Thirty kilometers,” I said. “That should put it at a safe distance.”

“Very good,”
said Belle.
“Complying.”

“Belle, start depressurization.”

Air began hissing into the compartment.

“I'll be glad to get out of the suit,”
said Alex.

I was uncomfortable about putting Charlie outside. “You know,” I said, “if he were going to try to blow us up, I think he'd have made the attempt by now.”

“Maybe,”
said Alex.

It was an uncomfortable moment. We stood there looking at each other, when Charlie's voice spoke through our links:
“It's okay,”
he said.
“I understand why you're leaving me.”

Alex's eyes closed.
“How did you know?”

“Your voices changed. Anyhow, I would take the same precaution if I were in your place. I can assure you, though, that I mean no harm.”

“Well,” I said, “we're going to have to trust him at some point.”

Alex nodded, and we reversed the procedure.

We retrieved Charlie and carried him up onto the bridge and tied him into a comm link. The hologram reappeared, the twenty-year-old, and he was effusive.
“Thank God,”
he said.
“I was scared out there. I really was alone outside the ship, right?”

“Yes.”

“Was it a test? When were you going to let me in?”

“Eventually. When we were convinced you weren't a threat.”

“Chase,”
he said,
“I wish I could hug you.”
He waved both hands and raised his fists in triumph.
“Believe me, I am so happy to be away from there that I cannot adequately express my feelings. Words do not suffice.”
He stopped and looked out through the ports at the stars and the planet below. He stood there, just breathing. Then he came back.
“It is beautiful,”
he said.
“You are both beautiful.”

Getting out of the pressure suit made me very happy. I was stowing it when Belle got my attention:
“Another city coming up, Chase. With more churches.”

She put one on-screen. Another country church. With a twelve-foot-long model of an interstellar on display in the front.
“Church of the Herald,”
said Belle.

And, a short distance west, St. Argo's Presbyterian Church, with a leaping angel.

And one that had to go nameless, with a small jet aircraft. At least that was what I thought it was.

And another, also with no visible name. It had only a sign, with the motto
PARADISE IS JUST AHEAD
, and a picture of a spacecraft. Dusk was settling around it. It was in the middle of a cluster of private homes. One of the homes had a fountain in its front yard, and the fountain was
working.
A thin spray of water came out of the mouth of a stone fish.

“Magnify the sign,” Alex said.

Belle complied. The ship was another of the clunky interstellars. Too thick through the hull. Individual portals on the bridge rather than a wraparound.

Alex put another picture up beside it. Another interstellar. Or no, the
same
interstellar. He compared them. Then looked up, smiling. “That's
it,”
he said.

“What's it?”

“Look at it, Chase.”

It was the one in Robin's picture.

I saw strange characters on the hull:

It was the same as the Sanusar vehicle. The one that Tereza had seen so many years ago. The one with the woman trapped inside.

TWENTY-THREE

Trust, but verify.

—Attributed to Ronald Reagan, a twentieth-century American president

If you can't verify, keep your gun loaded.

—Barry Ensel,
End of the Dream
, 1211

We sat in the ship's cabin and watched the interstellar in front of the church dwindle, while the skies around that lonely place grew dark and fell behind until we were out of range.

“I don't get it,” I said.

“They came here to confirm a suspicion.”

“Which was
what?”

“That the ship spotted at Sanusar came from this era.”

“How's that possible?”

“That would be a better question for Shara. But apparently some ships, like the
Abonai,
get screwed up somehow when they make their jumps. My guess is that they get lost, and travel in time as well as in space.”

“Wait a minute.” I couldn't make sense of it. “The Sanusar ship was lit up. And Tereza said she saw a woman in one of the windows—But you're saying they launched
seven thousand years ago?”

“I think that's exactly what happened.”

“And the
Abonai—?”

“Same thing, probably. I think it also explains the
Capella.”