One final shot and it ceased writhing, a mass of quivering, bloody flesh and exoskeleton that lay unmoving on the smooth pavement underfoot. Oram would have kept shooting, but he needed his remaining ammunition for another task.
Completely out of control as well as out of character, David stared at the bleeding, oozing body in disbelief. Then, his eyes blazing with hatred, he turned and took a step toward the captain.
“How could you do that? It trusted me!”
Wordlessly, his expression set, Oram calmly raised the carbine and aimed the muzzle directly between David’s eyes.
Fighting to regain control of himself, the synthetic halted. His familiar smile returned and he mustered a weak laugh.
“Gorgeous specimen. A real shame.”
Oram’s hands were as steady as a ship in space. The muzzle loomed very large in David’s vision.
“Tell me what’s going on here.”
The synthetic feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean. Your programming allows for many variables, but not confusion. I met the Devil when I was a child, and I have never forgotten him. Now you will tell me the truth, of everything that has happened here, after you arrived here, and since you have been here. Or I will seriously fuck up your perfect composure and you will not have to worry about the future condition of your coiffure.” His gaze was cold, cold.
Silently sizing up the situation, David knew the captain was not bluffing. One wrong word, one wrong movement from him, and the result would be a cessation of consciousness.
He contemplated rushing the human, but in light of how ruthlessly and efficiently Oram had brought down the magnificent neomorph, the synthetic calculated his odds of avoiding destruction, or at least serious damage to his systems, were no better than fifty-fifty.
“As you like.” He ventured a crooked grin. “I live to serve. Come with me—Captain.” He turned and gestured down the corridor. “Enlightenment lies this way.” He stepped away, and Oram followed wordlessly.
The gray-toned organically inspired hallways through which they strode were all new to the captain. They had not been this way, had not encountered any of these viscera-like passages, since their arrival at the cathedral. The illumination was darker than elsewhere, feeble at best.
Taking no chances, he maintained a safe distance between himself and his guide. The muzzle of his weapon never left the back of David’s head. If the synthetic was aware of the constant threat, he gave no indication that it troubled him. Leading the way, he did not once turn or look back. Oram could have pulled the trigger at any time. But before he made that decision, he wanted explanations. David seemed not just willing now, but even eager to provide them.
Eventually they paused before a door. Like those closing off similar portals within the structure, it was much taller and wider than necessary to admit a human. There was nothing intentionally grandiose about its dimensions. It was simply sized to permit the passage of the typical Engineer.
Beside the door, set into the wall, was the prominent hemispherical bulge of a control not unlike those that dominated the console of the pilot’s chair in the ship’s navigation room. When David traced a pattern over it, the slightly translucent surface came to life. He spoke calmly as the barrier before them began to draw aside.
“You don’t think much of synthetics, do you?”
Oram wasn’t about to be baited. Not now, in this place. He kept his eyes and the carbine focused.
“I like a machine that does its job and doesn’t talk back,” he said. “I like one that follows instructions and doesn’t offer suggestions unless they’re requested. What I want in a machine is the equivalent of a smart hammer—not a smart ass.”
“You speak for your species. How typical. Contempt for anything unlike yourself. Disdain for anything non-human, even if in some small way it might represent an improvement. Does it not strike you as ironic that humans, who consider themselves the shining lights of the firmament, spend so much of their lives—both individual and social—fighting with one another? You even resent many of the times when circumstances force you to cooperate, when you should be celebrating such efforts. A few of you recognize the inherent contradictions, yet do nothing to resolve them.”
The portal before them now stood fully open.
“But enough philosophizing, which you freely indicate you despise in any being other than yourselves. As a scientist, at least, I know you’ll find what I am about to show you of considerable interest. Even revolutionary. All you have to do is open your mind a little.”
As they entered a dark chamber, light appeared from unseen sources, responding to their presence. Oram immediately recognized the sizeable room as a study or laboratory of some sort.
Perhaps both, he thought warily. The architecture and construction marked it as an older part of the massive building, more like a catacomb than an oft-used area. It was immaculately neat. He was not surprised by that. Not with the synthetic having ten years in which to organize its contents. Wall-climbing shelves were filled with a decade’s worth of scavenging. Despite himself Oram was amazed at the range of material David had managed to accumulate, all of it appearing to have been collected from the surrounding city.
Still, it was apparent that not all of the artifacts were locally sourced. There were bits and pieces that reflected David’s own myriad talents, from sculpture to scribing, from abstract to realistic art. On a huge table that dominated the center of the room, Oram saw what was either a thin slice of highly polished wood or a thick piece of hand-made paper. Given ten years in which to practice, David easily could have mastered the paper-making skill. And as represented by the nearby forest, there was an ample supply of raw material.
On the paper, if such it was, an intricate grid had been marked out. In the center of each grid square a specimen had been pinned or otherwise fastened down. Some examples were intact, some partial, some fully dissected. It was all very orderly and clinical, exactly the sort of display one could expect to find in the private lab of a wealthy dilettante back home.
Laid out before him, then, was David’s own “Cabinet of Curiosities.” Or perhaps the synthetic regarded it as more of a trophy chamber. In either case, there was an undeniable hint of pride in his voice as he indicated the well-maintained display.
“As you can see, I’ve become a bit of an amateur zoologist over the years. Just a dabbler, mind you. I tried adding botany to my resume, but I quickly became too consumed with studying the minimal surviving fauna, and could not spare the time. Even with, as you might think, ten years to spare.”
Carbine still held at the ready, Oram followed him around the room. Full of objects propped against the walls, laid out on other smaller tables, or mounted vertically, the chamber was a cavern of wonders. Even the captain was not immune to its bizarre attractions.
His eyes were drawn to the giant figure of a single Engineer, laid out on a table. With surgical precision the body had been stripped of its outer layer of fat, skin, and muscle, leaving behind only an orderly superstructure of tendons, sinews, and bone as neat as a city transport grid.
David noted Oram’s awe, even though the muzzle of the weapon the captain held was still aimed in his direction.
“As you can see, my time here hasn’t been wasted. It’s in my nature to keep busy. Keep the mind exercised and all that, lest it fall prey to disorder from disuse.” He indicated the massive body of the Engineer. “This specimen was particularly arduous to complete—and messy. You can imagine. Fortunately, with thousands of examples from which to choose, I was able to practice on as many as I wished before finally getting this one right.” He smiled amiably, as if he was discussing the prep work needed to create a particularly elaborate gourmet dinner.