The enclosure opened, revealing the coffin inside. The arm touched a fastening, and it unfastened. Soon all the clasps were opened, and a second arm unfolded to aid in lifting the lid. The huge stalked eye peered inside.
"Yeah, she's in there," Jack called, outrage substituting for sense. "And now you're contaminated and will have to be destroyed. How do you like that, slugface?"
The Gaol lowered the lid and refastened the clasps. Evidently it couldn't be baited, assuming it could even hear or understand him. But surely it could hear, because Candy had spoken to it in English. That language had been programmed here, because it was what Tappy understood, and the Gaol had not bothered to reprogram the AI. Why should they, when the AI and all their worries were about to be destroyed?
Now the Gaol rolled over to inspect Jack, followed by Candy. Its eye oriented on him.
"Yeah, I'm the freak from Earth," Jack said. He suffered a wild inspiration. "I have something for you." He extended his arm carefully through the space between the charged bars. The hatchling was now a green ball.
The Gaol took the ball. It oriented its eye on it. The ball changed color, matching the hue of the Gaol. It disappeared against the puttylike blue flesh.
Would this work? Would the hatchling succeed in bringing empathy to the Gaol captor? Or would the Gaol simply destroy it?
"That's the hatchling!" Candy exclaimed. "The thing from the egg. It may be dangerous."
The Gaol ignored her. It retracted its stalk-eye and stood on its wheels, thinking its own thoughts.
"Time remaining until destruction fifty minutes, Earth time," Candy said, exactly as before.
She was on a countdown! They had set the time bomb, and she was now its readout.
The Gaol remained immobile. Was it simply waiting for the countdown to be completed, or was it responding to the hatchling? The fate of the galaxy might depend on the answer. Minutes passed with no action.
"Time remaining until destruction forty-five minutes, Earth time."
The Gaol extended its eye stalk. It oriented on Candy. There was a whistling sound. It seemed to emanate from the creature's knobby elbow. Well, sounds did not have to come from a mouth; the Gaol did not seem to have a mouth. If the elbow contained vibratory apparatus so that it could whistle, why not? Maybe it could whistle from all three elbows, keeping in tune with itself. Maybe that was how it got its jollies.
Jack realized that he was not making that up. He was feeling empathy for the Gaol, too! He was coming to understand it, to a degree.
Candy turned to Jack. "The Gaol wishes to converse with you. I will translate for it."
So that elbow whistle was its way of communicating! He would have found that considerably more interesting if his situation wasn't so desperate.
"Great," Jack said. "We can get to be friends while the clock winds down. Then we can all be destroyed together."
The Gaol whistled. "I am coming to understand your distress," Candy said. "I wish to make you more comfortable."
The empathy was working! "I cannot be comfortable until Tappy— the Imago— is free."
Again the whistle. "The Imago will separate from this unit at thirty minutes before destruction. The Imago will not be destroyed."
"But that's not freedom!" Jack protested. "That's the worst captivity, for the rest of her life!"
"If that separation is not effected, the host of the Imago will be destroyed with the rest. That is not permitted."
"I don't want the host destroyed either!" Jack exclaimed. "I want Tappy free!"
"It is not possible to defuse the bomb," Candy said for the Gaol. "It will detonate on schedule."
Jack realized how thorough this trap was. Even if the hatchling converted the Gaol, they would all be destroyed. Possibly the AI could have found a way out, because this was their city and they had centuries of experience. But they now served the Gaol. Unless—
"There has to be a way," he said desperately. "You, Candy—you used to serve the Imago. Can the Gaol revert you, so that you serve the Imago again?"
The Gaol whistled. "I have now reverted," Candy said.
Just like that! Jack wasn't sure he could believe it.
"I will save the Imago by destroying the host," she continued.
"No!" Jack cried, becoming a believer. He had forgotten this aspect.
She paused at the Gaol's whistle. "There is no other escape for the Imago, Jack. Death will free it."
"Then don't be in such a rush about it," he said. "Since this city is going to blow up anyway in half an hour—"
"Forty-one minutes."
"Then you don't need to kill her. Just bring her out here with us, and she'll die when we do."
"This is true." She would have seemed surprised had she been human. She walked to the enclosure and paused. "Gaol, may I open the ship and release the host?"
The Gaol whistled.
"Why do you need to ask?" Jack demanded, afraid that the Gaol would change its mind. "Haven't you reverted to AI?"
"I have. Jack," she replied as she worked on the enclosure. "But the Gaol retains authority and can cancel my reversion at any time. It is better to verify."
So it was a spot nullification of the Gaol program, not a revocation of the whole. The Gaol might be becoming sympathetic to the Imago, but was not a fool. A truly reverted AI might have turned immediately on the Gaol and tried to kill it.
"So I guess we'd better talk," Jack said to the Gaol. He was privately amazed at what he was taking for granted, but realized that the empathy could account for this. "What's your name?"
"The Gaol lack names," Candy said as she swung the panels of the enclosure aside. "It is a concept confined to primitives."
"Well, I'm primitive, so I prefer names," Jack said. "Will you answer to Garth Gaol?" He was being humorous again, though he realized that humor was wasted on the others. At least it helped him retain some semblance of sanity.
"What does such a designation signify?" Candy asked. The coffin was now exposed again.
"That you are masculine and understanding of human foibles," Jack said with a smile. "And that when I say 'Garth' I am addressing you or referring to you, and no other entity. It is a convenience for dialogue when more than two creatures are present"
"I will answer to Garth," Candy agreed for the Gaol. She lifted the lid of the coffin.
"Garth, what are your present feelings?"
"I wish to enable you and the Imago to achieve satisfaction."
"Why?" Because Jack remained wary of dangerous confusion. Empathy was fine, but an alien definition of satisfaction could be treacherous. Just as Candy's idea of saving the Imago had been to kill Tappy. If the creature could state a convincing rationale, maybe he could trust it.
There was no response. After a moment, Jack caught on, and said, "Why, Garth?" He saw that Tappy was now sitting up, looking dazed; the drugs would take time to wear off.
"Because, Jack, the facilitator is enhancing the rate of my corruption by the Imago, causing a conversion which would ordinarily require approximately twenty-four hours to occur in as many minutes. The creature has the substance of the host of the Imago, therefore is dedicated to that host and through it, the Imago. Thus it enhances the power of the Imago to bring empathy to those it contacts. The process is not yet complete in my case, but the first stage of the conversion is the instillation of the will to be converted, so I am accepting it rather than destroying the facilitator and proceeding with my duty."
This was more of an answer than Jack had anticipated! "The hatchling is the facilitator? It facilitates whatever is of interest to— to the person whose flesh has provided its substance?" Then, after another pause: "I direct the question to you, Garth." The Gaol had taken his instruction about the use of the name in a rather literal and limited sense.