“What is she talking about?” she demanded.
“You want to hear part two first?”
“There’s more? Oh yes, you said there were two of them. Please, yes.” Her features tightened as if she were looking into the face of a crocodile.
We listened again to the second transmission, absorbed by those final tense moments. We heard Charlotte’s terror, heard Housman pleading with Rick Harding to turn aside, and finally trying to get Charlotte to talk to him. Then it ended.
“What the hell’s it about?” she demanded. “What was going on?”
“Years before any of this, Harding discovered a world where an advanced civilization had killed itself off. Except for some AIs. They’d apparently been subject to control by their creators. They were happy the creators were gone. But they were terrified of the possibility they would return, or someone like them would show up. They’d had enough of being controlled and persuaded Harding not to reveal their location. He gave his word.”
“And . . . ?”
“You’ve got the rest. For whatever reason, he told Charlotte, and she passed it on to Housman and Womack.”
“So Harding killed them all?”
“That seems to be what happened.”
“Why do you think he told Charlotte?”
“I suspect it’s hard to keep a secret when you’re living in that kind of solitude. It’s probably the same reason Charlotte passed it on. She knew how Housman and Womack would react to that kind of story.”
“And he did this for a bunch of AIs?” Her eyes were closed and her lips locked together. A tear ran down her cheek. She tried two or three times to say something before finally getting it out. “You could hardly have brought worse news.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded. Waited another minute or two while she thought about it. Then: “What are you going to do now?”
“What are your thoughts?” Alex asked.
“Bury it.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? If it gets out it will do a lot of damage. To the families, and to us.”
“Lashonda—”
“We put a lunatic out there. On a remote space station with three innocent people.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility.”
“I trusted him.”
“So did the aliens. In any case, I don’t think Harding qualified as a lunatic.”
“What else would you call him? Anyway, I’m not talking about . I’m concerned about the organization.”
“You mentioned the families.”
“Yes. Think what it will do to them.”
“So you’d prefer to leave this unsettled? Leave everybody to wonder what happened to their loved ones?” Alex’s brow creased. “I think, in the long run, that would be crueler than revealing the truth.”
“Are you serious? The Hardings will find out their son killed the others. Can you imagine what that will do to them?” She turned in my direction. “Chase, if you were Harding’s sister, what would your preference be?”
It was easier than I expected. “I’d want the truth.”
It took a while. We went through a lot of glaring, sighing, and clenched fists. Finally Lashonda just shook her head. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. “How do you want to handle it?”
“We call a family conference. And ask them to say nothing.”
“You know that won’t happen.”
“We do what we can. We have nearby contacts with each family. Call them in tomorrow. And yes, of course it’ll leak out. No way we can stop that.”
She delivered a soundless “yes” with her lips. “I guess it’s all we have.”
“We’ll call the families,” said Alex. “Just tell them we have news.”
She stared at us for a long minute. “I’m so sorry you got into this, Alex.”
“I know. I am too.”
“Do you want me to set it up?”
“That would work best. Not here, though. Your conference room will be too small. But you want DPSAR to be part of the process, of course.”
“Yes, of course. Who else knows about this?”
“Just Gabe.”
“All right. Let’s get it done as quickly as possible. I’ll schedule it for tomorrow.”
“Good.”
“Give me an hour. I’ll call you when I have a place.”
“Sounds perfect. We’ll contact the families.”
Lashonda didn’t move. “Alex,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Do what you can for them. Try to frame it so it doesn’t sound so terrible.”
“I’ll take as much sting out of it as I’m able. It’s why we’d better get rid of the AIs. If the victims all died because one of them was protecting a data system, we’ll have nothing but outrage. These people have had enough suffering. I’ll make a few changes.”
“You’re going to lie?” I asked.
“I’ll avoid the details.”
“Okay.” Lashonda nodded. “Good.”
“Lashonda, nobody else can know about them. About the AIs.”
“Of course. I’ll say nothing.” She looked at me. “Chase, you have anything to add?”
“You can trust him,” I said. “If anybody can pull this off, he can.”
A call from Chad was waiting when I got back to the cottage. I connected and watched him blink on in the living room. He looked exasperated but said how happy he was that I was back, that he would like to take me to dinner, and that it seemed as if I’d been gone forever. he asked.
“The one you sent to the ?”
I eased down onto the sofa and smiled. “It was beautiful, Chad.”
“Sure. Why would you think otherwise?”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Chad, why don’t we talk about it later. I’ve got my hands full at the moment.”
“That sounds good. But let’s give it some time, Chad.”
“Chad, I’m seriously pressed right now.”
He stood in the middle of the living room, fading sunlight coming through the window behind him.
“No, wait, Chad—”
He was gone.
I tried to call back but his AI informed me he wasn’t available.
I spent the next half hour talking with Carmen. I needed someone to sympathize with me, to reassure me that I hadn’t really lost him, that Alex would take care of everything, that we weren’t going to destroy the lives of the Octavia families. She told me to stop worrying. She was still at it when a call came in from Alex.
he said.
“When?”
“Okay.”
“I’m not surprised. There was no way to warn the families and keep it quiet.”