“I’ll tell them, after I get this last bit of information. Just… give me a little more time.”
Arita understood him better than he was willing to admit to himself. He had studied the other similar cases from Theroc, and the prospects didn’t look good. Even with armies of medical researchers and physicians running countless tests and offering treatment options, Reyn feared it would all be for naught. But he’d promised her he wouldn’t give up hope.
“I’m always here for you, whatever you decide,” Arita said.
SIXTY-FIVE
ELDRED CAIN
Fire rained down from the sky, as it did every night. Viewing it with a sort of detachment, Cain thought the spectacle was beautiful—a celestial work of art, always changing. Always dangerous.
Although the continuing meteor showers still gave nightmares to the people on Earth, General Nalani Keah was not so easily intimidated, and Deputy Cain had no qualms about inviting her for dinner on his expansive balcony to watch the show as shattered Moon fragments burned up in the night sky.
“Thank you for inviting me, Deputy. It beats mess-hall food,” she said. “But mess-hall food is fine if that’s what’s being served.”
While their dinner was prepared, Cain walked her through his apartment, which was a veritable maze of thin walls built to maximize display space for his art. He showed her the beautiful and sometimes disturbing masterpieces of Goya, Hieronymus Bosch, and his particular favorite, Diego Velasquez.
The original Prado in Madrid had been destroyed in the aftermath of bombardment when the faeros destroyed the Moon. The actual meteor strike had missed Madrid, but rampant fires swept through what was left of the city and gutted the Prado. He couldn’t forgive the cosmic malice that had destroyed all those irreplaceable masterpieces. Fewer than thirty original paintings were rescued.
The works displayed on his own walls now were only high-res 3-D images, the most perfect facsimiles he could obtain. He could stare at the paintings for hours, marveling at the tiny details, the play of brushstrokes and shadows. When he showed her, Keah glanced at them as if they were government reports. She moved from one painting to the next, spending no more time than if she were perusing produce in a grocery store. Cain had hoped, but hadn’t really expected, to find a kindred soul.
She said, “So, these are just copies?”
“Perfect copies. Every detail is identical.”
“Then they might as well be the originals.” She gave a second glance to the Velasquez painting Los Borrachos. “I can’t see any difference.”
Of course she couldn’t. Cain was unable to take his eyes from the image. “I’m still trying… or maybe I’m just deluding myself.”
During the reconstruction on Earth, Cain had chosen to build his personal residence on the edge of the impact crater near Madrid. Many people marveled at the risk he took by erecting his home so close to the strike, as if another meteor would hit the same place again. He had confidence in the rubble-shepherding operations, as well as the extensive and (he hoped) infallible network of sky sensors to detect and deflect any large fragments that slipped through…
Cain had arranged for the meal to be catered and served by a rented Domestic compy. They ate alone outside on the wide balcony. The night was crisp, but not so chilly that Cain needed to turn on heaters or wind barricades.
Without the Moon, Earth’s climate had suffered radical changes, and the coastal areas were the most significantly affected. With the loss of tides, it was as if the heartbeat of the world’s oceans had stopped. The numerous impacts and resulting fires added a pall of smoke to the atmosphere, which brought about dramatic cooling and turbulent storms in the first few years. The winters were severe enough worldwide that climatologists predicted Earth would descend into a new ice age.
Unlike the dinosaurs, though, humanity had spread itself across many worlds and had developed sufficient technology to survive harsh climate shifts. Not even a celestial impact would cause the extinction of the human race. Enemies like the hydrogues and the Klikiss robots, however, were another story. Cain had thought such threats ended with the Elemental War, but recent startling news from General Keah and Del Kellum threw his confidence into question again.
He had suggested that the General wear civilian clothes, since this was an open and informal discussion, and she looked strikingly different without her military uniform. Her long, dark hair hung in a ponytail, and she wore a loose blouse and slacks. Her Polynesian features seemed more prominent without the distraction of the uniform. Even sitting in the patio chair, Nalani Keah looked twice his size.
When they finished eating, the compy silently retrieved their dishes and brought them coffee. A fireball tumbled overhead, flashed, and split into two pieces, both of which flickered out. “That was a bright one,” she said, picking up her coffee. She drank most of it in a single gulp, wiped her lips, and held up the cup. “Where’s that compy? I could use a bit more. In fact, have him leave the pot.” The Domestic compy scuttled forward to refill Keah’s cup, and left an insulated carafe between them on the table. “You’ve gone to too much trouble with the meal, Deputy. Are you flirting with me? Is this a date?”
The very idea startled him. “Absolutely not.”
Keah nodded, satisfied, then reconsidered. “What? Is there something the matter with me?”
“No. Nevertheless, I have no such designs. I would have chosen the same meal for myself.” Deputy Cain saw three faint shooting stars, none of which was remarkable. “I believe we can be more productive outside the context of a formal meeting. We have serious matters to discuss.”
More meteors streaked overhead accompanied by a shrill whistle. “They remind me of jazer blasts,” Keah said, then got down to business. “I spent the afternoon in a quick inspection of the shipyards and the CDF Lunar Orbital Complex. Impressive industry there, but I worry that our people have gotten lazy over the past twenty years. Just when you think you’ve eliminated a gigantic cosmic threat, something else comes and messes things up again.”
During the flight from Theroc after Father Idriss’s funeral, Cain had reviewed the records of CDF’s encounter with the black robots and the shadow cloud. It made no sense. The blackness erupting in the clouds of Golgen had destroyed the Kellum skymine, and that was just as inexplicable.
“I suggest dispatching a battle group to Theroc to strengthen defenses around the King and Queen,” Cain said. “And launch new patrols across all ten grids. We have to be on high alert until we know the nature of the threat.”
General Keah couldn’t agree fast enough. “If there are any more robot infestations, we’ll find them and wipe them out. I’ve got a vendetta against those bugbots, and I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday morning than smashing a few thousand of them.”
“All well and good, General,” Cain said, “but a handful of surviving Klikiss robots can’t possibly be more than a nuisance. We don’t want to cause a panic among colonists by telling them the sky is falling.”
As if the heavens had heard him, six shooting stars came down in rapid succession. One large bolide made a sighing, crackling sound as it tumbled in the atmosphere.
Keah agreed. “To tell you the truth, Mr. Deputy, that shadow cloud we encountered makes me more nervous than the bugbots. I’ve never seen anything like it. Adar Zan’nh believes it could be very dangerous.”
“Send an astronomical investigation team to map it, find out if it’s a dust cloud or a nebula.”
The General set down her coffee cup. “I did send a scout back there, but the cloud was gone.”