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delta . . . MARK!"
"Damn him . . . too damned good," muttered Gerswin as he changed course
again and keyed in twenty seconds of acceleration at half max.
Wheeeeeee . . .
Before the acceleration ended, the ship staggered, and the cockpit
dropped into the red gloom of the emergency lighting system.
Thud . . . thud . . .
The two jerks of an EMP shock wave slammed Gerswin against his harness.
The status board was half-red. As Gerswin focused his attention on the
systems, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the throbbing in his head, some
of the lights turned green. A good ten shifted to amber, and five remained in
the red.
"Damage and status!"
"Secondary screen generator omega. Primary and secondary power buffer
systems omega. Grav systems delta. EDI omega . . ."
Gerswin ignored the rest of the damages. The Caroljoy was sound enough
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to make it down, provided nothing else was thrown at him.
He shook his head slowly, afraid to move suddenly.
"Eye Cee, this is two. Fired on mark from Hotshot three. Detonation, but
no instrumentation."
"Eye Cee, three here. Impact at less than point zero zero five emkay.
Target screens held to plus seven."
". . . holy Istvenn . . ."
Gerswin ignored the Imperial byplay, since neither corvette could fire
again without risking planetside damage, and strapped himself more tightly
than before.
"Eye Cee, this is Hotshot four. Have target acquisition, but unable to
deploy without possible damage orbit control."
"Stet, four. Hold until able to fire."
"Three here. Four cannot hold. By the time orbit control is clear,
target will be in reentry."
Gerswin smiled reluctantly under the gee force at the captain of Hotshot
three. He never seemed to give up.
"Four, continue to hold until you can deploy without damage to Old Home
or orbit control."
"Four, holding."
Gerswin looked at the controls as the gee force went from half maximum
to more than seven gees, jamming him back into the couch.
"Commencing reentry program."
"Eye Cee, this is Hotshot three. Target commencing reentry on max-gee
curve through main magfield taps."
". . . said scout wasn't human . . ."
". . . one squadron not enough . . ."
eeeeeeeeEFFFEFFEFEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
Gerswin winced at the high-frequency static pouring from the speakers,
the noise created by his own unique reentry path.
For the following five to ten minutes, most atmospheric communications
in the northern hemisphere of Old Earth were going to be difficult, if not
impossible.
Instead of fighting the sound, he shifted his attention to the readouts,
ready to override the AI if necessary.
The pressure across his chest began to ease, as did the screeching on
the comm bands, replaced with a deeper and less intense growling that began to
fade as he caught scattered fragments of the Imperials' communications.
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". . . unique reentry . . ."
". . . alert Eye Cee . . . possible planetside follow-up . . ."
". . . nothing like . . ."
". . . orbit control . . . track . . . interrogative track . . ."
". . . negative . . . this time . . ."
". . . lunar relay . . . position inaccurate . . ."
The transmissions became fainter and fainter.
"Reentry complete," announced the AI.
Gerswin sat forward and checked the coordinates against those for the
Euron retreat, nodding at the relatively short distance remaining. His head
ached, and his ears still rang.
Then he tapped in the last courses, monitoring both the course line and
the far screens as the scout edged toward the hidden bunker that had waited so
long. The bunker from which the Caroljoy could never rise.
"Time to touchdown?"
"Estimate five plus."
He watched the waves beneath on the screen, and then the blotched land
that alternated between golden grass, scattered trees, and purple clay and its
matching scraggly purple grass.
"Homer is on."
"Descent path clear."
Gerswin mumbled the landing points to himself, slowly easing the black
scout through the concealed bunker door and down the tunnel and into the
hangar. Scarcely a fitting grave for the scout.
"Gates closed."
He sighed, letting his muscles relax for a moment before releasing the
harness.
"What now?"
"Inquiry imprecise. Please clarify."
"What do I do now?"
The AI said nothing, as if it had not heard his clarification.
"About the ship, about you . . . doubt I'm coming back. May use the
flitters . . . no energy left . . . not to speak of . . . nowhere to go . . ."
He wondered why he was talking as he did, but it seemed almost as if he
were trying to justify what he said, what he was going to do.
"Terminate."
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Terminate? The single coolly feminine word hung in the control room. Had
the AI actually said terminate?
"Please clarify." This time, the pilot asked for the clarification.
"Energy reserves insufficient for continued full-status operation. Pilot
has expressed no further need for ship and AI. Therefore, suggest full
shutdown and AI termination."
"Why?"
"No further purpose for ship. Ship cannot be lifted. Cannot be
repaired."
He swallowed hard. How could he feel sentimental about a chunk of metal
and electronics? Even if he had built it? Even if it had been home, on and
off, for it century?
"Request AI recommendation for optimal outcome for AI."
"Termination optimal outcome for Al. Pilot has expressed no further need
for AI. Ship cannot use AI. No remaining function for AI."
How could he do otherwise, practically and in fairness?
"You left everyone else, didn't you?"
Neither he nor the Al answered the question, as, hands trembling, he
began the series of codes that would fulfill the only request the Al and ship
had ever made. The only request.
XLVIII
TOUCHING HIS TONGUE to the side of the special tooth, the gaunt man, the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]