The ark was named A. K. Prabhakaran. It was the name of a person of such fabulous importance as to cause this enormous vessel to be named in his honor; but it was a name lost in an incalculable past. Warrior, politician, science-wallah, explorer…Even male or female. Whatever he had been, he was only the name of a ship now.
They learned the name from one of the crew.
Shortly after they had entered the pressurized sector, a multiwheeled cart with a raised front rolled down the aisle and stopped before them. The holostage flickered and the head and shoulders of a young woman appeared on the raised platform. The ymago did not have the ghost-like appearance of a normal projection, but seemed a solid body, so that the whole gave the impression of a mechanical centaur: half woman, half cart.
It spoke to them in the Tantamiž, but with many words of the Murkans and the Zhõgwó and the Yurpans mixed in. Donovan learned that he could follow it, though he had to ask the thing to repeat itself several times.
“Why are ye awake at this time?” Donovan understood the thing to say. “Our planet is not yet ready.”
“Who art thou, o machine, that thou mayest ask this of us?”
The ymago smiled. “I am Flight Attendant 8y493 pi-cha-ro, sri colonist; and such are my assigned duties.”
“I will call you ‘Peacharoo.’”
“As thou willst. This is not an alloted wake time. Hath there been a failure of thy pod?”
“And why should I not be awake?” He turned aside to tell his companions. “It says we’re up past our bedtimes. I’m trying to stay outside its box.”
“Be not foolish, sri colonist,” the machine countered. “The planet will not be a world for another nine lakhs of hours. Thou willt be an old man before the landings begin.”
“Nine lakh? Nine hundred thousand hours…Are those metric hours or dodeka hours?”
“Thy query signifieth naught. An hour is an hour. Which are your pods, and I will escort you to them. Do not waste your life-hours, for time spent is never to be regained.”
“A Terran hour, then. Nine lakh would be, ah, about a hundred years.”
Sofwari whistled. “Far less than a Gladiola ark requires to prep a planet.”
“Well,” Donovan told him, “a Gladiola ark is far smaller than this behemoth.” He turned back to Peacharoo. “The planet Enjrun is already terraformed. We have come from there. It is time to wake the colonists and bring them down.”
“I see no ecologist ratings on thy sleeve. Thou wearest not thy required bar code or insignia. Let me ask Ship’s Sensors.” The simulation hummed a bland ditty for a few moments. “The activation beam has been sent within the fortnight, but there is no return signal yet.”
“Thou fool,” said Donovan. “Thy sensors have been destroyed! The signals were sent more than a thousand years ago, but thine ears have gone deaf.”
“It sorrows me to say so,” said Peacharoo, “but such is not my department. If ye would please follow me?” The Attendant spun and rolled down the aisle at a walking pace.
“Tell it to take us to the control room,” said Sofwari. “I’d love to know if their gravity grids are based on the same principle as ours. And the genetic data…Invaluable!”
Donovan gave it a try. “Peacharoo! We have an urgent message for the captain. Might thou summon him?”
The Attendant stopped. “Captain Salahuddin is no longer aboard A. K. Prabhakaran. He believed End Run successfully seeded and took many landers to the planet. But several weeks have now passed and they have neither returned nor contacted the ship. Clearly, the ecosystem is yet too immature to support life. I have exceeded my normal authority in telling thee, but may it persuade thee of thine error.” The Attendant again started forward.
Several weeks… Donavan shrugged. “We may as well see where it’s leading us.” He caught up with the Attendant in a few strides. “What facility is this that we pass through? But speak slowly, that I may translate for my friends.”
“This is Cold Sleep Dormitory Number 183, sri colonist. If thy friends speak neither the Tantamiž nor the Murkangliš, they are in the wrong dormitory. This dormitory is reserved for Terrans. Colonists from the Lesser Worlds are housed elsewhere.”
“The Lesser Worlds,” said Billy Chins, confirming Donovan’s suspicion that he, too, understood the Tantamiž. “Would that include Dao Chetty?”
The Attendant fell silent for a moment, then the image of the girl said, “Tau Ceti is a valued and important member of the Commonwealth. They stand shoulder to shoulder with our comrades against the people of sand and iron.” Peacharoo then added several more compliments in the Zhõgwó tongue.
Sofwari exclaimed over this. Like most, he believed the Commonwealth had fallen through the revolt of Dao Chetty, and that the prehumans were long vanished before humans ever went to the stars.
“I see no sleepers,” said Donovan. “What section is this called that we walk through?”
“This, sri colonist, houses the local backup power and life support for this bank of dormitories. It has been activated, but I have not been informed of the reason. I am sure it is but a drill. There is no need for alarm among the colonists.” The ymago actually managed to appear cheerful and reassuring. “If thou woudst return to thy pod, I will summon Attendants to escort thy friends also to theirs.
When Donovan had translated this, Méarana said, “Is this your artificial intelligence, Donovan? Artificial pig-head, I say!”
“It’s malfunctioning. What do you expect?”
“An ordinary automaton would not have disregarded a direct order,” said Sofwari. “Or told you about the captain. Peacharoo passes the ‘Enduring Test.’ It seems as if we are talking to a person.”
“Fash it. It seems as if we are talking to a bureaucrat! They only recite rules back at you, too. Seeming isn’t being.”
Donovan spoke to Peacharoo. “How long hath the emergency generator run?”
The ymago hesitated, and looked puzzled. “As much as an hour, or…longer. My clock synchronizeth not. Thank you for drawing my attention to this problem. I have sent a maintenance request to repair my clock. Please, do not be concerned, and follow me to your pods.” Then, a moment later, “The Attendants for the other dormitories answereth not my summons. Until they arrive, I will house thy companions temporarily in this dormitory, as numerous pods are now empty.”
As she said this, they passed through a portal into a vast open chamber within which floated evenly-spaced cubes in rows, columns, and layers. These vanished into the distance ahead, above, below, and to both sides. The Sleuth said, This sector seems larger on the inside than it was on the outside. That was impossible, of course; but here they were.
Each “cube” was a block of nested cylinders, twelve by twelve and bore a holographic display with a letter and a number. Since Tantamiž letters were themselves two-dimensional, this served to identify three-dimensional coordinates for each block. Between blocks, catwalks ran in every direction, including up and down. Sleuth estimated that the bay held as many as 50,000 cylinders.
And each cylinder held a sleeping colonist.
Donovan stared at the vast array and a great sadness overwhelmed him. The “great day” had come and gone, and they had slept through it. He wondered whether, had all the colonists made it down, there would have been enough to keep the planet from slipping into barbarism.
“And now,” said Peacharoo, “ye must return to your sleep pods.”
“No,” said Méarana; and then using what she had picked up of the old speech, said “Panna matēn!” I will not do it.