The ziggurat constructed at the center of the colony cast a long shadow across the evening plain.
The afternoon’s sweat was beginning to dry on Herb as he loaded the Geep with his tools. Banging the spade on the rocky grey soil, sending clean fresh earth scattering everywhere, Herb felt a sense of quiet satisfaction. When he had first joined the colony he had done his best to avoid any physical work. Constantine had needed to point out to him how unpopular Herb was making himself with the other colonists by insisting that he was merely suited for programming jobs. When Constantine had suggested it, Herb had only grudgingly agreed to help out in the second order terraforming projects, but he was now grateful he had done so. To think that he had had to travel halfway across the galaxy to appreciate how much better an evening meal tasted when eaten in company, with muscles still aching, after a shower and a change of clothes. He wondered if Ellen would sit at his table tonight. Ellen with her short red hair and sweetly sarcastic manner…
The gentle movement he had been hearing behind him gradually impinged on his consciousness. Who was it? Not Constantine; he should still be climbing down from the peak above where he had been checking the microwave relays.
Herb turned round and felt a thrill of the fear that he thought had passed from his life along with Robert Johnston.
Something was emerging from the vegetable patch. Long, silver, very, very thin metal legs were sliding from the mud, raising themselves up into the air, reaching back for a purchase on the rocky ground surrounding it. Herb edged away so that his back was pressed against the plastic side of the Geep. The legs had gained a purchase, and now a silver body was rising from the earth, mud crumbling down its sides, potatoes tangling by the roots and swaying in gentle motion as a silver metal spider lifted itself from the ground. Herb could smell rich earth, but in his mouth was the metal taste of fear.
The spider stepped forward onto the rock, the frictionless surface of its body now perfectly clean.
Herb raised the spade in his cold hands, ready for attack.
“No…I am not here to hurt you…”
The spider spoke in a soft voice, a tired voice. Even after two hundred years of living with them, humans still responded to the verbal cues that machines put into their voices. Herb relaxed a little, held the shovel a little less threateningly.
“Who are you? What are you?”
Herb was already feeling calmer. Constantine was up above somewhere; he would be climbing back down soon, fractal hands and feet roughened in order to grip the rock, black shoulder bag swinging from his neck as he made his way down to join his friend. Below on the plain the colonists were working. Some of them would already be riding home in their fliers; they could get here quickly if he signaled them. Herb was by no means alone. Now that he had got over his fright, Herb could see that the machine before him was not very substantial. The body of the spider was not as thick as Herb’s thigh; its legs were so slender they looked as if one swipe from the spade would cut them in two. The spider seemed to notice that fact, too; it shifted a little, keeping away from danger.
“I will not hurt you,” it whispered in a sad little voice. “Please put down your shovel. You are frightening me.”
“Who are you?”
The spider shifted its feet, the setting sun shining in red highlights on its smooth body.
“I’m, I’m…I’m all that remains of the mind that once controlled this planet. The AI you helped destroy. The mind behind what you once called the Enemy Domain…”
Herb gripped his shovel tighter; the spider flinched.
“No! Please no! I won’t hurt you. This body cannot hurt you. It is failing as it is…”
“Where did you come from?”
“Deep beneath the mountain. The plague did not reach down that far, all those silver machines, reproducing so fast, eating, eating…”
The spider’s voice trailed off. Herb stared at the ruins of his vegetable patch. Was there a tunnel leading down from there to the center of the planet? Was there to be another secret passage?
The spider was swaying strangely. It seemed vague, confused.
“All of this that you have built. Too much…You’ve done a good job. Your dominion looked so fragile, back then…”
“My dominion?”
The spider didn’t seem to hear the question. It raised one leg and pointed it down toward the plain, at the tall black shape of the ziggurat.
“Funny, isn’t it?” Its voice became reflective. “The Mesopotamians built them at the dawn of civilization to speak with their gods. Here they are again at the dawning of your new world.”
“How do you know about the Mesopotamians?”
An impatient tone crept into the spider’s voice; it seemed to be becoming more aware, less vague.
“I too was originally from Earth, Herb. Didn’t they tell you that?”
“How do you know my name?”
The spider seemed to be growing in confidence. Red light glittered on its body. Herb looked around uncertainly. Just where was Constantine?
“I watch, I listen. I feel life reawaken on this planet and I hear the metallic whispers of machinery building itself. At first I ignore it. The time of my playing a part in the universe has passed, I tell myself. Now is the time to just be. But I am only fooling myself. I cannot hide forever. The unprepared will eventually be destroyed; ignorance is no hiding place. I know this; I force myself to acknowledge this fact. And so I begin the fight again. The long path to safety. I leave my deep lair. Little by little I make my way to the planet’s surface. I find a patch of terraformed earth, and I lie beneath it and I listen some more. Some days a young man comes here to work on the soil, and I hear him speak with his companion, and what I hear astonishes me. Although they once helped the power that defeated me, now they too hide from it. I wonder, why?”
Herb said nothing.
The spider laughed. A thin, tired laugh. The red light of the setting sun cast an eerie glow across the rock. Herb was aware that he had never really noticed before how strange his new home was, up here on this mountain ledge: the plain with its great empty sockets beneath him, empty graves waiting to be filled; the great tomb of the ziggurat standing nearby. Herb had thought of the planet as a new beginning, a place of hope. Suddenly it felt as if he stood on the edge of helclass="underline" a demon had already arisen to drag him down.
He coughed to clear his dry throat.
“What do you want, spider?”
“I want to live,” said the spider simply. “There are fewer and fewer places to hide on this planet. I want to make a deal with you. Let me live, and I will let you live.”
Herb swallowed twice. The spider leaned close to him. He suddenly noticed two spindly legs had sidled up on either side of him.
“What do you mean, let me live?”
The spider’s voice dropped, became cold and menacing.
“I’ll tell you the secret that is being hidden from you.”
Herb felt a cold thrill of fear. He looked into the red lenses of the spider’s eyes and found he could not speak.
The spider continued. “The humans on this planet are all doomed. The EA is shaping this galaxy to its own ends. When it becomes too strong, it too will be destroyed.”
“Destroyed? By what?”
The spider laughed.
“Oh, no. First you have to help me. Satisfy me that I am safe…”
“How? Look, why stay here? There is a whole galaxy to hide in.”
“Nowhere in the rest of the galaxy. The EA conquers all…”
“The EA doesn’t conquer…”
The spider laughed. Herb suddenly became uncomfortably aware that one of its incredibly thin, whippy legs was now wrapped around his neck.