"So I've been dead over seven hundred years," he says in a whisper so faint it is almost only a thought.
"Longer than that, probably. Our reservation was one of the most recent. What did you call the year when you lived?"
"I died in the twenty-first century. Does that mean anything to you?" "No. I only know that the archaic age had its own reckonings for time.
Religious ones, I think."
"Yes. Maybe you can tell me when the archaic age ended."
"I don't really know. I mean, I wasn't much interested in history. Do you know about the Maat?"
"No."
"Sometimes they're called neo-sapiens. They're what became of humanity after we mapped the human genome and amplified our intelligence."
"The next evolutionary step," Charles says with startled understanding. "The step we take for ourselves." Then, his voice rises to a puzzled lilt, "But why are you here? Why isn't everyone Maat?"
"Who knows? Maybe the Maat like diversity. Before they went underground, they founded the reservations, not just for people but for many life-forms. My reservation was one of the last they set up. I'm pretty sure they'd already been around for over a century by then. So you must have been dead for-well, for almost a thousand years."
Charles is silent, and Mei does not disturb his profound quiet for a long moment. During the interminable time he had spent locked in the virtual space of the ore processor's command core, he has had ample time to mull over his past
and visit with the ghosts of those he knew in his first lifetime, now all long dead. He has no regrets about leaving them behind, where they bad wanted to stay. But knowing how long they have been ghosts, how long he has lain dormant awaiting this vital moment, pervades him with an appalling sense of his own
transience. He yearns deeply for the return of his senses so that he might grasp and smell and see the moment-by-moment reality he has traveled a thousand years to experience.
Mei's edginess becomes unbearable, and she must break the silence. "Do you wish now you hadn't frozen yourself?"
"No-no, not at all." He speaks in a hush, his awe palpable. "I knew there were great risks. I knew it might be frightful here. I-I wanted to see it for myself. I only wish now I had eyes."
"You will," Mei answers brightly. "And you'll have your whole body, too. The vats in Solis will shape you just as you were-or with modifications, if you want."
"Solis-where is that?"
"On Mars. Not far from here. It's a human community. They strive to maintain the old values. They'll appreciate an old-timer like you."
"But the gravity-it's only a third of Earth gravity."
"Yes. You and I will be in the minority there. Most have taller, less dense bodies. They'll find us quite exotic."
Mars! he thinks, simultaneously astonished and panic-stricken. It was because he had wanted to see Mars, to see the cities on Mars, that he arranged to have his head frozen upon death, to Van Winkle enough time so that he would wake to see its wonders. And now, right here in his blind presence, is a woman of this scary and marvelous future, his one tenuous hope for a new life. "Why did you leave Earth?" he asks, suddenly seized with a desire to know everything about her.
Mei hesitates, not sure what to say. She feels foolish telling him about the personal tragedy that impelled her off-planet, for this archaic mind is from a time when mortality was the common truth. Mute, she stares at her
square-knuckled hands, and the visitor from the past must ask again, "Were you unhappy there? Has the Earth changed a lot from my time? Would I recognize it?"
"Oh, yes," she blurts. "You'd recognize it. The Maat restored the planet. The oceans and forests and grasslands are as they were before the sprawl of the
city-states."
"But where do the Maat live?"
"Underground. The villages on the reservations are the only artifacts on the planetary surface. Factories are located in space or on the moon, and the mines are out here in the Belt. No one really knows what the Maat are actually using the raw materials for. I mean, there's no sign of them on Earth. I guess their subterranean cities take some of the material. And here and there, in desolate places-in rift canyons, deserts, and glacial peaks-you can find their crystals,
big prismatic columns, a hundred meters tall. They're a mystery. Same with the Array. That's what everyone calls the Maat's massive project in trans-Neptunian orbit. It looks like some kind of pattern-less net, and it's built from the material that the numerous companies in the Belt and the gas planet systems gamer for them. The actual construction is done by specialized andrones, artificial workers created by the Maat."
"What do they look like-the Maat, I mean?"
"Anything they want." Mei stands up and starts probing the switch box again with a stylus from her tool kit. "I'm going to try to hail my partner and see if he can get us out of here."
"Won't the others hear you?"
"They'll hear the signal, but the codes in the switch box will scramble it." She speaks to the comlink in her shoulder pad: "Munk-are you there?"
"You're still alive!" Munk's signal comes back immediately on the secure channel. "Wolf Star declared that Aparecida had killed you."
"It's a lie, Munk. We're okay, for now. What about you?"
"I had to swing wide to shake the destroyers Wolf Star deployed. But I'm free at the moment. Do you have Mr. Charlie?"
"Yes."
"Can you get to the surface? I can pick you up in a drop-dead flyby. If I come in any slower, the destroyers will fix on me and there won't be any pickup at all."
"Aparecida has us locked in here."
"Take Mr. Charlie and break for the surface. I will position myself for the flyby now and execute the drop-dead in twelve minutes."
"It's too risky, Munk. Detonate the damn explosives. We're safe in the command pod."
"You know I can't do that, Jumper Nili."
"Let your C-P program do it! If you don't, I'll work this switch box until I
figure out the detonating sequence myself."
"That will take too long. It'll be hours before you crack the code, if then. Wolf Star will have computed the codes for itself long before then. Make a break for the surface. I will pick you up."
"Munk, wait. Listen. There's something in you that's human. The Maat instilled that in you. I need that part of you to act for me-for Mr. Charlie-right now."
"Jumper Nili, I'm positioning The Laughing Life for the flyby. Break for the surface."
The secure line cuts off, and Mei disconnects from the switch box with a curse. "Damn that boltdolt!"
"What is a drop-dead flyby?" Charles inquires.
"It means he'll throw The Laughing Life at us and come in without any impulse power, engines dead, flying by momentum only. Because our ship is made from a substance called blackglass, it's virtually invisible in space. Without using the engines, the ship will offer no profile to Wolf Star. It will fly by undetected. All we have to do is be there to hop on."
Muttering blood oaths, Mei straps on her jetpak, stalks to the frustum, and removes the plasteel case. "Can you still hear me?"
"Yes." He has no sensation at all of movement. He is simply in blind space, informed only by the nerve-induced sounds from the translator in the case. "What are you going to do?"
"We're going to try to outrun Aparecida to the surface," she mutters sullenly, fidgeting with the switch box, setting a brief lagtime on the portal control. "Just be grateful you don't have eyes to see this."
She takes the ovoid case in both arms and positions herself at the egress point and waits, gnawing her lower lip nervously. Her fear angers her. What is there to fear? That she will die? Everyone she loves is dead. They died unknowing, believing the mercies of their age. At least she will die with her eyes Open. What of Mr. Charlie7 He died too, once, believing in the mercies of an age to come. But there are no mercies. She knows that now. And when the door dilates, she screams her bitter rage and fires her jetpak.