I glanced up and saw a line of four floatersapproaching the steps. I started to say something, then saw thatYoshio had spotted them, too.
“Through here,” he said, pointing at a door.Singh hurried over to it.
It didn’t open. He looked for a panel orsensor and didn’t find one, but there was a round metal handle.
“Turn the knob,” the old man said.
Singh turned to look at him as if he’d gonemad; apparently he’d never heard of doorknobs, or maybe he justcouldn’t imagine he was actually seeing one. I pushed past him,grabbed the knob in both hands, and turned.
It turned easily, actually, and I heard amechanism click, but the door still didn’t open.
“Push on it,” Yoshio said, exasperated.
I pushed on the knob, and the door swung openon hinges. The three of us hurried through, and I realized we’dlost our floater. It was probably still upstairs, trying to blockthe entrance.
When we were through the door the old manturned and pushed it shut, then ordered Singh, “Hold it closed.Lean on it.”
Singh nodded, and threw himself against thedoor, pressing his weight onto it.
Yoshio nodded, then beckoned to me. “Thisway,” he said.
I didn’t need directions; we were in acorridor that only went one way, straight ahead. I followed on theold man’s heels.
We stopped in front of a metal panel in onewall. The old man worked a mechanical latch, and the panel swungopen; he reached inside, grabbed a lever, and heaved.
There was a loud clank, and the corridorabruptly went dark, utterly dark. Then there was a series of thuds,not quite like anything I’d ever heard before, marching away intothe distance.
And after that, the sound-I’d never heardanything like it. All the humming and whirring that was alwaysthere, everywhere I ever went, suddenly dropped in pitch and thendied away completely. All of it.
And there we were, in complete blackness andtotal silence, the most absolute silence I ever experienced.
For half a second I thought I might havedied, but then my eyes adjusted, and I saw the glow from theread-outs on the HG-2. I lifted the gun and checked the statusdisplay.
It was perfectly normal. Whatever the old manhad done hadn’t affected my weapon.
“What’s going on?” Singh called from behindus, his voice unsteady. “What did you do?”
“I cut the power,” Yoshio said.
“To what?” I asked.
“To everything. The entire compound.”
I blinked at the darkness and tried to lookaround, but everything was black. I listened, trying to orientmyself, but I couldn’t locate anything. I could hear my ownbreath; I could hear my worksuit rustling when I moved. Ithought I might even be hearing my heartbeat.
My wrist com still worked, though; it ran offmy own body’s energy, not an outside source, and a glance at itshowed a flurry of red alarm signals-the absence of normal datatraffic had upset it. The HG-2 had its own power source, so it wasstill active, as well.
“This is really creepy,” Singh said, and hisvoice seemed very loud in the stillness.
“The floaters will still be functional,” theold man said calmly, “but they will no longer be receiving ordersfrom the household nets.”
“There’s no back-up system?” I asked.
“Of course there is. I shut that down, aswell.”
“You can do that?”
“This entire compound was built to myspecifications; I had this cut-off designed to stopeverything. Those sounds you heard after I threw the switch?Those were relays, shutting down every circuit and system.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Why?” I asked.
Yoshio sighed, the sound unnaturally loud inthe quiet gloom. “When I came here, more than a Terran century ago,there was some doubt about how artificial intelligences wouldevolve. There were concerns that they might someday rebel, orperhaps merely transform themselves in incomprehensible ways. Thiswas derided as a foolish worry, and given the derisive name‘Frankenstein syndrome,’ and I gave it little credence, but at thesame time, I saw no reason not to take precautions. I hadthis breaker, and the system of relays, installed for such aneventuality.”
My symbiote fed me a referent for the name“Frankenstein.” I was a bit surprised something like that was stillin my data banks. The Shinichiro upload didn’t bear any resemblanceto Dr. Frankenstein’s creation, and it wasn’t exactly an evolvedartificial intelligence, but I could see the correlation.
“I guess they were right to be worried,” Isaid. “I mean, here we are.”
“So you shut down all the computers in theentire compound?” Singh asked.
“I shut down the entire power grid,” Nakadareplied grimly.
I had been starting to relax, but at that Itensed up again. “All the power?” I said. “Then how can webreathe?” I finally made the connection with the utter silence.“Nothing’s circulating the air! We’ll smother in here-if wedon’t freeze first. There’s no heat? No light anywhere?”
“Nonsense, Mis’ Hsing. We can functionwithout machines. Our ancestors did not evolve among generators andcircuit boards.”
“They didn’t evolve on this planet, either.This isn’t Earth.”
“Nonetheless, we will not smother. There isplenty of air in this tunnel to live for hours without artificialventilation. We will return to the surface long before we are inany danger of suffocation.”
“But how will we see? How will we… oh,that’s why the doors work like that. And those stairs… you reallydid plan for this.”
“Yes. Though I had not imagined it would bemy own family that turned against me.”
The old man tried to keep his voice even, andmostly succeeded, but I thought I heard bitterness and anger in hiswords. I considered saying something, telling him that the uploadwasn’t really Shinichiro, but I kept my mouth shut-he kneweverything I might say, and I respected him enough not to try totell him what he already knew.
“What about the floaters?” Singhdemanded.
“You have your gun?” Yoshio asked me.
“Of course,” I said, raising it.
“I doubt we will need it; I expect they willbe paralyzed, awaiting orders. Just in case, though, be ready.”
I checked the gun, and told it, “Fourfloaters. Minimize collateral damage.” Then I pointed it andwaited.
“Open the door,” the old man called.
I heard the click of the latch, and the soundof hinges, and then a faint grayish light appeared, and thecorridor walls were visible again. I peered up the passage, whereSingh was a great black shadow against the gray doorway.
There were no floaters in sight.
Cautiously, gun ready, we moved back up thepassage, through the door, and up the stairs, the light growingbrighter with each corner we turned. Finally we emerged back outonto the landing field, where Eta Cass A had dropped below thewestern horizon, but its light still painted the sky in gold andpink almost as bright as the sky above the Trap. The air was alittle chilly, but entirely bearable, even without any artificialclimate control.
The old man’s yacht was ablaze with light, aswell; someone had apparently turned on every emitter aboard. Adsfor the New York were writhing across the hull. And every floaterthat could still fly was hanging motionless in a neat array aroundit, about three meters off the ground.
“It would seem they got new orders,” Isaid.
“Indeed,” Grandfather Nakada said. “Let us goaboard and see if we cannot give them better ones; I have no doubtthere are a great many frightened people in this place, waiting forrescue.”
I started to say something about the manualemergency releases on every door, then stopped. The Nakadas andtheir employees were inside, in rooms that had gone dark and dead,breathing air that was still and silent, with no idea what hadhappened. Most of them wouldn’t think to use the emergency latches;hell, most of them might not know there were emergencylatches, let alone how to use them in the dark. I remembered my ownmoments of near-panic in the service tunnel, and tried to imaginesomething like that happening without any warning at all, strikingme in my own home, a place I thought I was safe.