Part 9 (1/2)
”You have worked with the best information available. There are simply no clues to where the Benefactors might be found. The information you need is available. Use it.”
”I've been told-”
”You are Pan,” the mom said.
He swallowed harder, and his tongue seemed to grow thick. ”We'll stand down.”
”What is 'stand down'?” the mom asked.
”We'll refuse to enact the Law.”
”If that is your choice, the s.h.i.+p will change from its present course.”
Martin relaxed his clenched fists. He was not angry with the moms; he was not angry with the children. With regard to himself he felt nothing. He looked away from the copper-bronze robot, seeing too clearly how naive they all were.
”We're just asking to be trusted,” Martin said, working to keep his voice level.
”We are not empowered to trust or not to trust. Nor can we give you information that this s.h.i.+p does not carry. We cannot do the impossible, Martin.”
He felt ill and exhausted. Why had he let the children put him up to this? Because he was Pan, and represented them? That didn't seem at all sufficient to explain his predicament and his misery.
”Why were we sent on this mission when we don't have the information we need to complete it?” He sounded petulant and petty, and he hated it.
”What you lack is information that our builders think you will not need.”
Martin's mind worked furiously to find a c.h.i.n.k in this thick armor of logic. I would have designed the s.h.i.+p the same way! We all would have! would have designed the s.h.i.+p the same way! We all would have!
”But the s.h.i.+p carries information about Earth. If it's captured, they could-the Killers could-”
”This Job would be impossible if you did not have access to your culture, your history and planetary memories.”
”You'd risk our solar system, but you will not risk your...makers? Your planet, or planets?”
”That is the way it must be.”
Another wall, huge and unyielding; two walls actually, closing with him between. ”We feel inadequate to do the Job,” he said softly, eyes turned away.
”Go back to the others and tell them they are not inadequate. They have the resources they need.
”There is, in this s.h.i.+p, something that goes beyond knowledge, that is hidden in its structure and the way it operates, which allows this s.h.i.+p to judge with high accuracy the chances of a mission's success. Call it a mechanical instinct. Your people are very capable. Tell them.”
Martin lifted his head and stepped back. ”I'll try,” he said.
His face was red as he left the schoolroom. He had been maneuvered into presenting a case without believing it himself. That showed his weakness as a leader. Failing to get what he had been sent to get would make him seem weak in the eyes of some children-Ariel in particular. But he did not care what she thought.
What would Theresa think? And William?
What would Rosa Sequoia think, Rosa who needed a strong leader to draw her back into the group?
Sitting on the edge of a table, Martin finished his crew report, the most difficult few minutes in recent memory. Most of the children-seventy-two of them-sat in the main cafeteria, the only s.p.a.ce besides the schoolroom large enough to hold them all at once.
The s.h.i.+p's deceleration had hastened and they now faced a steady two g's. They were tired and they listened to his report quietly.
”That's it,” he concluded, looking from face to face to keep direct visual contact with as many as he could. Then he gave that up; it might make him seem nervous. Instead, he focused on four or five in the front ranks.
Hans Eagle and Erin Eire sat in the front row. Hans' expression was quizzical. Erin cradled her cat, a fat gray thing with exhausted, bored eyes and matted fur.
”Did you argue with them?” someone asked from the middle. Martin looked up quickly and tried to spot the face, but answered before he had identified Terence Sahara.
”I did my best to present our case,” he said. ”Either we believe them, or we don't. And if we don't believe them...” He let the question hang.
Theresa sat on a bench to his right. He glanced at her; she smiled support. William, on the opposite side, about one third back into the crowd, sat with hands behind his head, elbows like stubby wings, eyes closed.
No one stood against the oppressive force; no one exerted themselves more than they absolutely had to.
”It's frightening,” Erin Eire said. She swallowed; even speaking seemed tiring. ”We thought they were all-wise, all-knowing. If the s.h.i.+p of the Law doesn't know, then the machines that saved us probably didn't know, either...don't know.”
”What do do the Benefactors know? Anything?” Jack Sand asked. the Benefactors know? Anything?” Jack Sand asked.
Felicity Tigertail, in the front row-Martin's first lover, back on the Central Ark, during a brief two-day tryst-raised her hand as if she were in school. Martin nodded to her. Her arm was bruised, he noted; they all had bruises from such casual actions as letting arms drop. She lowered her arm cautiously.
”We're lost if we don't believe them,” she said. ”We have to believe them. That should be obvious.”
”We don't have to believe anything,” Ariel said from the rear, voice loud to rise above the murmuring. She sounded harsh, angry. Martin wondered where she got her energy to stay angry. ”We have to ask questions. We should continue to ask questions! I think this is bulls.h.i.+t. They can defend themselves against the kind of machines that destroyed Earth! Why worry about what information they carry? The moms-the Benefactors-are simply afraid of us. us. They don't want They don't want us us to know anything about them or their makers.” to know anything about them or their makers.”
Martin started to speak, but Paola Birdsong, in the middle of the group, shouted out first, ”Hold it! Does anybody here have enough imagination to see what the moms are really really saying? Martin, do saying? Martin, do you you know what they're telling us?” know what they're telling us?”
”They're not all-powerful,” Jack Sand said.
”I'm asking Martin!” Paola insisted.
Martin looked out over the group from his seat on the table top, then with great effort stood up, holding his hands behind his back. The table seemed very high. If he fell, he could break a leg. Or his neck. ”They seem to say there are hunter-killers out there from civilizations much more technologically advanced than the one-or ones-that built the s.h.i.+ps of the Law.”
”It never ends! n.o.body ever learns!” Erin Eire cried out. Her cat tried to crawl away in distaste. ”n.o.body ever grows old enough to be kind or wise!”
”Hold it,” Martin said, raising his hand. Noise rippled through the children, words of shock and dismay. ”Hold it! Quiet!” he shouted hoa.r.s.ely.
”Quiet!” Hans repeated, his voice like a bear's growl in the cafeteria s.p.a.ce.
The children quieted. Ariel stood and lumbered from the room, followed by two others whose faces Martin didn't catch in the rear gloom.
”To get agreement to build these machines, the Benefactors have to guarantee security. Safety. They need to know that sending the s.h.i.+ps and machines out won't backfire and lead bigger wolves down on them. That's just caution. Maybe there aren't really any bigger wolves out there. But they have to be cautious. And of course, in time, maybe we will become dangerous, like a lion turning on its keeper.” He looked at Felicity and smiled. Felicity nodded.
”We shouldn't be cynical,” Martin said. ”The moms tell us we're good, and that we have what we need. We just have to work extra hard with what we have. We have to drill. We have to make up our own exercises based on what we've already been taught. They took risks by teaching us what they have. We're powerful, given the weapons we're taught to use. That shows some kind of trust, doesn't it?”
”We have what we need,” Hans repeated. ”We have work to do.”
”Vote on it!” Ariel had returned and looked at Martin from the shadows at the rear.
Martin's face flushed. ”No,” he said. ”We don't do everything by some sort of silly consensus. If you don't like the way things are being done, you elect another Pan. You can do that now if you want. The moms say we'll be diverted if we stand down. Who wants to lose this chance, after five years?”