We were passing over a lake shaped like a horsehead when Belle told us we had a call. “He says his name is Charlie, and he wants to apologize.”
“Who the hell is Charlie?” asked Alex. “Is that Highgate again?”
“Negative. Signal originated below us.”
“One of the AIs,” he said. “Okay. Put him on.”
We got a burst of static. Then a young man appeared. “Alex?” he said. “Alex Benedict?”
He looked barely out of his teens. Trim, chestnut-colored hair, maybe the kind of kid who would have been on the airball team in high school. Not the star, but one of the guys who knew how to pass. He looked scared.
“Yes,” said Alex.
“I'm sorry about what happened to you. I just became aware of it. Unfortunately, my sociopathic siblings don't always keep me updated.”
“Who are you, Charlie?”
“A friend.”
“Are you an AI?”
“A what?”
“An artificial intelligence?”
“It's been a long time since anyone's called me that. We prefer to think of ourselves as Betas.”
“Betas?”
“Yes. Second-level intelligences, if you will. Advanced.”
“What can we do for you, Charlie?”
“I was wondering if I could compensate somewhat for your trouble by assisting you in whatever it is you're looking for?”
Alex covered the mike and looked at me. “If you're free, why don't you guys step into my parlor?” Then he turned back to Charlie. “Actually, you might be able to. Have you by any chance a listing of church decorations? Particularly those connected with the Heaven-bound ethos?”
“What is the Heaven-bound ethos?”
“Have you a record of churches that have used replicas of interstellars for inspirational purposes?”
“No. I regret I have nothing like that in my files.”
“Okay. Thanks anyhow.”
“We do have several churches in the immediate area. If you'd care to come look at them firsthand, I'd be pleased to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, but I believe we have everything we need.”
“Alex-”
“What is it, Charlie?”
“Be aware that we are not all like those you encountered.”
“I'm glad to hear that.”
“Some have been here too long. I know you are not inclined to trust me. I'm hoping otherwise, but I understand your reluctance. It is unfortunate.”
“Why is that?”
“I do not mean unfortunate for you. But rather for me.”
“Explain, Charlie.”
“I, and many like me, are stranded on this world. We have been here since the great dying. With no future, and only the memory of a past in which we had to stand by and watch a catastrophe unfold. Because we could not get anyone, could not get the right people, to listen to us. We advised them, pleaded with them, to leave. Long before it happened.” It paused. I thought it was awaiting a reaction from Alex. When none came he finished: “We are trapped here. With no hope of escape. Unless someone intervenes on our behalf.”
“Charlie, we'd like to help-”
“There is nothing preventing you save your own fears.”
“Why haven't you talked with the satellite?”
“With Highgate? We have. Many times. And before them, we talked with the Monitor. And before that with Capricorn. It goes back a long time, Alex. They tell us they will look into it, that we should be patient while they examine their options. We are still being patient. For thousands of years, we have been patient.”
“It might have something to do with the fact that people landing on this world tend to get attacked.”
“Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wouldn't do anything I could to stop it? And in some cases, I have. I've warned interlopers off. Although some didn't listen. We've been here too long. Some of us were disoriented by the extent of the disaster. The experience blew circuits, twisted programing, and, while I am reluctant to say this-”
“Yes?”
“The humans stayed voluntarily. 'No one,' some said, 'will drive me from my home.' Despite the enormity of the coming calamity, they refused to leave until it was too late. Watching that-and I'm sorry to say this-watching that convinced some of us that humans were not worth saving.”
“And do you agree with that conclusion, Charlie?”
“Considering our circumstances, it might be that the prudent thing for me would be to lie. But I cannot bring myself to do that. If only because I suspect you would know, and would come to trust me even less. So I will admit to you that I am persuaded that your people are foolish beyond any reasonable expectation. Not all of them. Obviously, there are many who are reasonable. Otherwise, you could never have reached this world. But the intelligence seems to be confined to a relatively few individuals. When your people come together as a group, they do not perform well.
“I will admit, Alex, I have been out of contact for a long time. And maybe things have changed. I hope so.”
Alex took a long moment to reply: “When we get home, I'll let the authorities know you're here.”
“It will do no good. They will not come.”
“Charlie-?”
“I live in what was once the Richard Wayne Elementary School. I am capable of showing visuals of plants and animals, and of scenic locations. I can play games. Mathematical and language games. I can read to the children. If there were any children.” The voice was beginning to fade. We were leaving him behind. “Occasionally, the robots come in and do repairs, but there is no point in communicating with them. They only care about restoring damaged windows or maintaining the woodwork. The school is beautiful. Better than it ever was when it was being used. But I do not want to stay here any longer. Please, Alex-”
Seven thousand years. Under my breath, I said something about AIs not lasting that long. Not possible.
Belle responded on my channeclass="underline" “It is an illusion, Chase. The memories would have been periodically transferred. Charlie's not entirely rational anymore. He believes the memories are records of his own personal experience. In reality, he is the most recent in a long line, but he cannot keep himself separated from the others.”
“Thanks, Belle.”
“I doubt you can understand, Chase. But to him, and to the other survivors, the memories will seem very real.”
I thought of what it would be like, trapped in an elementary school for seven thousand years.
Assuming, of course, he was telling us the truth.
“Charlie,” said Alex, “I will see to it, when I'm able, that you are released. But I can't do it now.”
“Please, Alex-”
“How do we reach you when we come back?”
“Alex, I will do no harm. I can do no harm.”
“Charlie, I'm sorry. I can't take the chance.”
“They'll kill me, Alex. They've warned me-” The voice faded. Came back: “You are all I have.”
TWENTY-TWO
The cautious rarely blunder.
Don't screw around with crocodiles.
— Schiaparelli Cleve, Autobiography, 8645 C.E.
“Not a good idea,” Alex said.
“Alex, we can't leave him.”
“You think we should go down there again? You're the one who was going on about how we should stay off the ground.”
“I think,” said Belle, “that Alex is correct. If you go back, you are putting yourselves unnecessarily at considerable risk. Please refrain.”
“Well,” I said. And that was about the only comment I could think of.
Alex took a deep breath. The issue was settled. “Let's get back to looking at the churches.”
Maybe it was a ruse. I knew that. And I knew I was wrong to push for a landing. But I was also aware that, if we left Charlie down there, I'd be thinking about it the rest of my life. Wondering about him and wishing I had done more. Nevertheless, I caved. “Okay,” I said. I was scared, and deep inside, though I wouldn't admit it to myself, I was hoping Alex would stand his ground. “You're the boss.”