VOICES CLAMORED IN the connection like echoes in a canyon . . . robot, Hraachee'an, Thespi, Karellian, quarx, human . . .
Bandicut struggled to gather the images like butterflies into a net, trying to discover what lay beneath the memories, the who and the why. /You did not intend to destroy the civilization on the planet?/ he asked the stargate.
did
not
come
to
destroy . . . . .
no . . . . .
came
only
to
serve
/Nevertheless, you did destroy . . ./
Like a holo of an explosion in reverse, a million bits of memory coalesced into fragments of history . . .
—sailing proudly into the eternal night, one of a thousand such, dispersing into the galaxy, long before the failure that brought it to this place—
—struggling to function in spite of damage—
—trying and failing to stop earthquakes and violent atmospheric storms from destroying fragile constructions on the edges of the continents—
—a civilization dying—
—the stargate itself slowly dying—
—frantic attempts to restore itself, to feed matter through interspatial channels, to reestablish normal function, to correct error—
—and coiling its fields outward to connect with another intelligent machine passing close by, bringing in this first who might pass through and be boosted onward, as intended—
—error error—
—starship struggling to maintain its own course through the tortured paths of altered space-time, but caught helplessly in the web of this other thing . . . and finally brought planetward in a cataclysmic entry, grinding into the seafloor—
—while the two minds, struggling to comprehend each other, remained entangled, able neither to mesh nor to separate, and both of them slowly dying—
—but determined to send the starship on its way, to boost it as the stargate had been designed to do—
—trying to do its job—
—before death—
—to correct its error, terrible error—
—must correct—
—must correct—
*
The Maw was dying. And it was determined to do whatever it could to complete its unfinished task before its strength failed . . . sometime, perhaps, in the next several hundred years.
/You cannot change what has been done—/ Bandicut whispered.
Must
/—it can no longer fly—/
must fly
/—you have destroyed those lives, can only go on with what is—/
what lives?
what lives?
And a furious cry like a fist of darkness rising into the halo of light. "Our lives! Ours!"
who—?
"Our ship and lives that you destroyed—!"
The voice came from the twisted, tortuous connection with the shipwreck, and Li-Jared's voice rose to meet it with a sharp twang. /Morado! Can you hear me? I feel the stones; can you hear me? Why are you here?/
"Drew me, the stardrive called me . . . drew me through these stones, there is so much they know, so much . . ."
/Then you've heard, and you know—/
wait
do
not
know
the
meaning
In answer to the skittering cry, Bandicut called, /What meaning don't you understand?/
Lack of comprehension: lives.
/Life itself? Do you understand life?/
Describe life.
/Do you not know your own life—?/
Before he could say more, there came a howling wind of images from the stardrive, from Morado: Astari struggling to gain a foothold on a hostile seacoast, facing earthquake, unpredictable seas and storms, failing technologies, dangerous salvage operations in an ocean they didn't understand . . . and sea creatures who came and vanished . . . until alien stones flickered and blazed into union with Morado . . .
. . . as they had into the stargate itself . . .
these
stones
from
creators
like
mine
There was a flash of imagery, like a lightning bolt, too fast to frame and hold. A glimpse of a world . . . or a collection of worlds . . . a race of beings, the makers of the stargate . . . and a need, a responsibility . . . Bandicut couldn't focus; it was gone.
*Different,* answered the stones, someone's stones. And Bandicut realized there was something in the stones' voice that was ominous.
The stargate didn't seem to notice; but it understood something now that it hadn't. These entities were similar to its makers in one crucial respect: their machine intelligence. It understood the stones, and their connection to life, even if it didn't understand the life itself. But could it understand harm? Could it be persuaded to stop what it was doing?
/// It believes, to correct its mistake, it needs to
send something winging into infinity. ///
/Send something winging into infinity—?/ Bandicut said, and then stopped, caught by a half-formed thought.
"Do you see now?" asked Napoleon, of the stargate. The robot was trying to explain something to the Maw, trying to explain that its corrective efforts were harming both organic and machine intelligences. "But there may be alternatives—"
The Maw rumbled through the sea, and then for a few frightening moments was utterly still. And in the dead silence, Bandicut faintly heard L'Kell's voice: "Motive power is gone. I cannot control our movement. We are descending, and will continue to descend until we strike bottom."
Bandicut shivered. How much farther down was the bottom? Or was there a bottom? He felt a sudden pang for L'Kell, who was protected only by the sub's pressure-hull; Bandicut, perhaps absurdly, felt safer in the star-spanner bubble.
The Maw suddenly spoke:
please
state
alternative
Bandicut's breath caught, as Napoleon spun out a suggested plan of action . . .
"The starship is no longer flight worthy. However—"
There was a sudden rush of emotion from Antares, or rather through her, focused by her. Puzzlement. Desperation. Need. Almost those things; not quite any of them. But it was the stargate's sensation, its near-desperation, as palpable as any emotion from a living, organic being.
Bandicut was so focused on it, he almost missed the final beat of Napoleon's proposal:
/—if you accept a substitute for the Astari ship, your chances of success will be greatly increased. We are flight worthy; you could boost us—/
What? Bandicut thought. And realized that this was precisely the thought that had almost crystallized in his mind earlier. Char had figured it out, and Napoleon. The stargate, more than anything else, was desperate to report a successful transport. Nothing else mattered except that act of completion of its mission . . . its purpose in being . . . before its own life came to an end.
/// It was programmed to cross the galaxy,
maybe more than the galaxy,
solely to do this thing and keep doing it.
And if it could do it just once,
and be able to report success,
even to itself . . . ///
Bandicut held his breath, waiting to see what it would say. And if it said yes, what then? Had they just volunteered to be flung somewhere across the galaxy again—only this time not under the control even of the Shipworld Masters, but of some completely different alien intelligence? /Going where?/ he whispered softly. It seemed like madness.
But if it saved the Neri and the Astari from ruin? Wasn't it worth it, for them?
/// The stones are willing. ///
Willing. Because they'd planned it all along and knew what was happening, or because they too saw a thread they could hang onto through the crazy, chaotic winds of this journey? And what of the others?
He dared a glance. From Antares, fear and longing both; and from Ik, determination. And then the stargate replied:
Are
you
starship?
"We are starship," said Napoleon. "Our purpose and nature are as brethren to the ship that has crashed. We seek to find a new world. It is in our nature."
And
your
nature
is
"Intelligence," said Napoleon. "Joined to machine."
Then
said the Maw, and with its words there was a flickering of light against the darkness that enveloped them,
substitution
is acceptable
"Yes," said Napoleon. But the Maw was not finished speaking.
if approved by
command authority of Astari ship
have you such authority?
"I believe so. John Bandicut?" asked Napoleon.
Bandicut blinked, uncertain; and then from far off, through the link with the stardrive of the sunken ship, came Morado's voice: "I am commander of this ship, and I have such authority. I approve, provided those before you are willing . . ."
Bandicut caught Ik's glance, which was fiery. Yes. And he could feel Antares' affirmation.
And Li-Jared? The Karellian was gazing, half-entranced, not into the Maw, but up into a kind of tunnel, where the figure of Morado, encased in an Astari diving suit, was silhouetted against the coiling light of the stardrive chamber. Bandicut could almost read Li-Jared's thoughts from his face: Let us do this for Harding, to make good his life and his death . . .
"We are willing," Bandicut said aloud. "But—"
There was a quiet rumble.
"Will you agree, when this task is done—when your triumph is finished—to cease trying to move the Astari ship? To cease creating earthquakes and disruptions?"
it is agreed
this task is our purpose
you will all
take this journey
together?
"Together," Bandicut said. But looking around suddenly, he had a panicky thought. "Except—"
/// L'Kell. ///
The quarx's voice was quiet, but stark.
Bandicut peered down through the bottom of the star-spanner bubble, into the viewport of the sub. He could just make out L'Kell's face, staring up at them—helpless, without maneuvering power for his sub, which was still descending. Could L'Kell hear any of this? Did he know the agreement that had just been reached? Bandicut shifted his gaze, looking for the heart of the Maw's light, but it was impossible to localize now. They were surrounded by an almost celestial glow. "We are willing," he called to the Maw, "except for the one in the submarine, the vessel beneath us. Can you send him back up through the ocean above, to the city in the sea? His home is there, his purpose, his mission. We can move on, but he should not. Can you do this before sending us through?"
Silence. Or not quite silence, but a low hum that grew very slowly until it seemed to fill this glowing abyssal place. And then the stargate replied:
it
can
be
done
if
you
release
the
submarine
Bandicut knelt. His voice caught as he called out to L'Kell. "Can you release the bubble?" He made chopping gestures toward the cables that secured the bubble to the top of the sub. L'Kell peered up in obvious bewilderment. Had he lost power even for the comm? "We have an agreement with the Maw! Release the bubble!" Bandicut shouted.
L'Kell's voice came back very thinly: "What do you intend?"
"We're sending you home!"
"But you can't! What about you?"
Bandicut gestured broadly, then cupped his hands to his mouth. "We're going back to the stars!"
L'Kell's expression was unreadable, but he suddenly moved away from the viewport. The hum in the ocean was growing louder. Something was opening below them, and the bubble was beginning to vibrate. L'Kell returned to the window. He was doing something with the controls. There was a jarring sensation in the floor of the bubble, and the line at the front of the bubble went slack and floated free of the sub. The bubble rocked alarmingly. The lines at the rear followed a moment later, and the net holding the bubble floated loose. The bubble jostled in the current, not quite lifting from the top of the sub.
L'Kell's face was pressed to the viewport now. His expression was clear: fear for his friends, and grief. Where must he think they were going?
Bandicut raised his hands in salute. The hum had grown too loud for him to speak to L'Kell. /Can the stones make any contact at all with him?/
/// Feelings, sensations . . . ///
/Then send him joy and hope. For him. For us. For his people./
are
you
ready
asked the stargate.
/Yes./
*
There was a perceptible surge, as an unseen current lifted the bubble and jostled it away from the sub. A pellucid, horizontal ring of light encircled the bubble now, separating it from the submarine. The bubble stopped rising, but the sub did not. A powerful upwelling current had developed beneath it, made visible now by the movement of suspended silt. Beneath it stretched a glowing tunnel that appeared to reach down into the very depths of the planet. In fact, Bandicut knew, it reached through some twisted bit of space-time to another part of the sea, on the far side of the planet. This time, instead of drawing seawater down in a vain attempt to tug on the shipwreck, the Maw was pumping water upward.
The sub turned as it rose. Its nose came around and, for a few heartbeats, L'Kell gazed straight out at them, his eyes dark and wide with fear and wonder. In that moment, Bandicut thought of all the unspoken things he wished he could say, wishing he could shake L'Kell's hand, join stones with him, spend a night in conversation and learn all there was to know about the Neri. An electric current seemed to join them, and not just Bandicut but all in the bubble. "Hrah, farewell!" called Ik. Li-Jared and Antares both shouted good-byes, and Bandicut cried, "Godspeed, L'Kell!" and somehow sensed that L'Kell, through his stones if no other way, had heard them. The Neri's eyes seemed to soften for an instant, and then the upwelling current lifted the sub away from them.
The stargate held the bubble solidly, as the sub dwindled overhead. In the last moments it looked like a toy riding the spout of a fountain, against a haze of spectacular night-lighting. It moved with startling speed, and in another eyeblink was gone.
Bandicut's heart was pounding with excitement and fear and sorrow. Around him, his friends crowded close, encircling him with their presence. He felt Antares' hand on his shoulder, then Ik's. He cleared his throat, not knowing what to say to his friends. "Stargate!" he cried. "The sub has no power of its own left. Can you guide it to the region where there are others like it, near the city?"
this
is being done
prepare now
"It will be all right, I think," Antares whispered.
Bandicut sighed. "Yes. I only wish I could—"
"Rakh, we understand, John Bandicut. We understand." Ik peered downward. "I wonder, where is this thing going to send us?"
Bandicut closed his eyes. /Where are we bound? Where will you send us?/
There was no answer from the Maw. Perhaps it did not even know.
Bong. "Wherever, is better than here," Li-Jared said with a blaze of electric-blue fire in his eyes. He clearly preferred making a getaway to the stars over the risk of dying a piece of flotsam at the bottom of an alien sea.
"Cap'n, I believe we are beginning to be underway," said Copernicus, tapping.
Bandicut swallowed and looked at his friends, and wondered if the star-spanner bubble could exert any influence over where they were about to go.
/// We shall soon see . . . ///
*
When it came, it was swift and silent as a dream. The tunnel of light darkened and closed. All the brightness below faded to blackness, and if there was a current still flowing, it was no longer visible. They were surrounded now by a ring of cool, emerald-sapphire light, contracting and hardening.
From out of the darkness at the bottom of the abyss came a flickering of energy . . .
fleeting sparks of light, ruby then gold
strobing pulses of color, scaling up and down through the spectrum
and finally the diamond-studded blackness of space, and a sudden awareness that they were falling, had been falling. The ring of light around them was gone. The ocean over their heads was gone. The abyss . . . the stargate . . .
Nothing at all surrounded them now except stars, a heartstopping panoply of stars.