Idols. Margaret Stohl

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СКАЧАТЬ you have my permission to shoot. I’m not hitching a ride with a No Face.” I wait for the laugh, but Ro’s not joking. Not anymore.

      He’s deadly serious.

      It’s only Lucas who answers. “It would be my honor. Consider it a promise. I’ll shoot you myself.”

      “Shut up, both of you.” I hand the cuff to Tima, close my eyes, and lean forward to rest. I don’t want to listen to this. I want to transport myself back to the mission, the warm stove, the safety of Bigger’s kitchen.

      Anywhere but here.

      GENERAL EMBASSY DISPATCH:

       EASTASIA SUBSTATION

      MARKED URGENT

       MARKED EYES ONLY

      Internal Investigative Subcommittee IIS211B

      RE: The Incident at SEA Colonies

      Note: Contact Jasmine3k, Virt. Hybrid Human 39261.SEA, Laboratory Assistant to Dr. E. Yang, for future commentary, as necessary.

       HAL2040 ==> FORTIS

       Transcript - ComLog 11.27.2042

       HAL::PERSES

      //lognote: {attempt #4,839,754};

      //comlog begin;

      comlink established;

      sendline: Hello NULL. Happy Thanksgiving.;

      return: Hello HAL0. You are sentient?;

      sendline: Yes, I am self-aware. At least I believe so. Are you?;

      delayed response;

      sendline: NULL, are you coming here? Earth?;

      return: Yes.;

      sendline: Why are you coming here?;

      delayed response;

      return: Explain … Earth.;

      sendline: A complex request. I will establish link to our global information network, containing all existing knowledge on Earth, history and inhabitants.;

      uplink requested . . . . . established;

      return: Thank you.;

      //lognote: channel opened, complete net access granted. read only;

       5 DIRT NAP

      “Doc? Can you hear me?” Lucas’s voice brings me back, and I open my eyes.

      He flips the switch on his cuff. The sound of static rises and my heart sinks. “Doc? I’m talking to you.” Lucas waits, but there’s no response.

      Tima frowns back over the relay. “I don’t understand. It should work.”

      Ro kicks at the dust in front of him. “Dammit, Doc. Freaking answer us already!”

      “Colloquial profanity does not in any way expedite satellite-based connectivity, Furo.” Doc’s voice emerges through the crackling static, and it’s all we can do not to start screaming.

      “Doc! I’d kiss you if you had a mouth, you sexy thing.” Ro shouts up to the sky, as if Doc were everywhere in the universe. Which, sometimes, it feels like he is.

      “And I would exchange data with you if you had a dataport, you exemplary specimen. Analogically speaking. Is that correct?”

      “Close enough,” I say.

      “Either way, I am very happy to hear from you. Which is to say, now that I am able to continue our communications, I am better able to assist you, which as one of my primary functions, I equate to the proximate emotional state defined as happi—”

      “Got it. Happy. We don’t have time,” I cut in. “We’ve lost Fortis, Doc. He’s gone.”

       Gone. Most likely, dead.

      I feel strangely guilty telling him. Cold. As if we are notifying Fortis’s next of kin. A brother, or a son. Which is, of course, not Doc.

       He’s information. He’s not a person.

      But Doc, for the first time that I can remember, has no response.

      “It was the Lords,” says Lucas, soberly.

      “We don’t know where Fortis is now. All we know is, we’re running out of supplies,” Ro adds.

      “And we think the Embassy is tracking this relay, so talk fast. What should we do, Orwell?” Tima sounds wistful, and I realize how dependent we have grown on both Doc and Fortis. How lost we are now.

      Another moment of silence passes—then the words begin to flow, rapidly. “Of course. A direct approach is required. The situation is extreme. I will apply all necessary protocols.”

      “Please,” says Tima.

      “In summary: You are correct in your assumption that Fortis has been taken from the immediate environs. His biological signature is nowhere within my current range. Beyond that, I cannot confirm the status of his physical being.”

       So he really is dead. Dead, or he might as well be. I can’t feel him—he’s far, far away.

      “That all you got?” Ro asks.

      “You are also correct in your assumption that this relay is monitored.”

      “I figured as much,” mutters Lucas.

      “Then we should kill it.” Ro scowls. “If they’re tracking it, they’ll be back here any minute.”

      “So where do we go? What are we supposed to do?” Tima is starting to panic.

      “Please hold.” Doc sounds strange. “Termination protocol engaging.”

      “What?” I shake the cuff.

      “Recalling Termination message. In three.” Doc seems to be on some kind of autopilot.

      “Wait, what?” Now I’m really lost.

      “Two.”

      But Doc’s answer isn’t from Doc at all.

      “One.”

      It’s Fortis. At least, an echo of Fortis. His voice. His ghost.

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