Damon Knight: Orbit 19

“Loneliness. And insanity. They appear to go together. This is her solution. You are not the first clone she has made.”

She had thought herself beyond shock, but the clarity that simple declarative sentence brought to her mind was explosive. Zoe had always needed the companionship Xanthia provided. She needed a child for diversion in the long, dragging years of a voyage; she needed someone to talk to. Why couldn’t she have brought a dog? She saw herself now as a shipboard pet, and felt sick. The local leash laws would necessitate the destruction of the animal before landing. Regrettable, but there it was. Zoe had spent the last year working up the courage to do it.

How many little Xanthias? They might even have chosen that very name; they would have been that much like her. Three, four? She wept for her forgotten sisters. Unless . . .

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth about this? How could she have kept it from me? I’ve seen tapes of Pluto. I never saw any mention of this.”

“She edited those before you were born. She has been careful. Consider her position: there can be only one of you, but the law does not say which it has to be. With her death, you become legal. If you had known that, what would life have been like in Shirley Temple?”

“I don’t believe you. You’ve got something in mind, I’m sure of it.”

“Ask her when she gets here. But be careful. Think it out, all the way through.”

She had thought it out. She had ignored the last three calls from Zoe while she thought. All the options must be considered, all the possibilities planned for. It was an impossible task; she knew she was far too emotional to think clearly, and there wasn’t time to get herself under control.

But she had done what she could. Now The Good Ship Lollipop, outwardly unchanged, was a ship of war.

Zoe came backing in, riding the fusion torch and headed for a point dead in space relative to Xanthia. The fusion drive was too dangerous for Shirley to complete the rendezvous; the rest of the maneuver would be up to Lollipop.

Xanthia watched through the telescope as the drive went off. She could see Shirley clearly on her screen, though the ship was fifty kilometers away.

Her screen lit up again, and there was Zoe. Xanthia turned her own camera on.

“There you are,” Zoe said. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me?”

“I didn’t think the time was ripe.”

“Would you like to tell me how come this nonsense about talking black holes? What’s gotten into you?”

“Never mind about that. There never was a hole, anyway. I just needed to talk to you about something you forgot to erase from the tape library in the Lol ... in the lifeboat. You were pretty thorough with the tapes in Shirley , but you forgot to take the same care here. I guess you didn’t think I’d ever be using it. Tell me, what are Clone Control Regulations?”

The face on the screen was immobile. Or was it a mirror, and was she smiling? Was it herself, or Zoe she watched? Frantically, Xanthia thumbed a switch to put her telescope image on the screen, wiping out the face. Would Zoe try to talk her way out of it? If she did, Xanthia was determined to do nothing at all. There was no way she could check out any lie Zoe might tell her, nothing she could confront Zoe with except a fantastic story from a talking black hole.

Please say something. Take the responsibility out of my hands . She was willing to die, tricked by Zoe’s fast talk, rather than accept the hole’s word against Zoe’s.

But Zoe was acting, not talking, and the response was exactly what the hole had predicted. The attitude control jets were firing, Shirley Temple was pitching and yawing slowly, the nozzles at the stern hunting for a speck in the telescope screen. When the engines were aimed, they would surely be fired, and Xanthia and the whole ship would be vaporized.

But she was ready. Her hands had been poised over the thrust controls. Lollipop had a respectable acceleration, and every gee of it slammed her into the couch as she scooted away from the danger spot.

Shirley’s fusion engines fired, and began a deadly hunt. Xanthia could see the thin, incredibly hot stream playing around her as Zoe made finer adjustments in her orientation. She could only evade it for a short time, but that was all she needed.

Then the light went out. She saw her screen flare up as the telescope circuit became overloaded with an intense burst of energy. And it was over. Her radar screen showed nothing at all.

“As I predicted,” the hole said.

“Why don’t you shut up?” Xanthia sat very still, and trembled.

“I shall, very soon. I did not expect to be thanked. But what you did, you did for yourself.”

“And you, too, you . . . you ghoul! Damn you, damn you to hell.” She was shouting through her tears. “Don’t think you’ve fooled me, not completely, anyway. I know what you did, and I know how you did it.”

“Do you?” The voice was unutterably cool and distant. She could see that now the hole was out of danger, it was rapidly losing interest in her.

“Yes, I do. Don’t tell me it was coincidence that when you changed direction it was just enough to be near Zoe when she got here. You had this planned from the start.”

“From much further back than you know,” the hole said. “I tried to get you both, but it was impossible. The best I could do was take advantage of the situation as it was.”

“Shut up, shut up.”

The hole’s voice was changing from the hollow, neutral tones to something that might have issued from a tank of liquid helium. She would never have mistaken it for human.

“What I did, I did for my own benefit. But I saved your life. She was going to try to kill you. I maneuvered her into such a position that, when she tried to turn her fusion drive on you, she was heading into a black hole she was powerless to detect.”

“You used me.”

“You used me. You were going to imprison me in a power station.”

“But you said you wouldn’t mind! You said it would be the perfect place.”

“Do you believe that eating is all there is to life? There is more to do in the wide universe than you can even suspect. I am slow. It is easy to catch a hole if your mass detector is functioning; Zoe did it three times. But I am beyond your reach now.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do? What am I going to do?” That question hurt so much that Xanthia almost didn’t hear the hole’s reply.

“I am on my way out. I converted Shirley into energy; I absorbed very little mass from her. I beamed the energy very tightly, and am now on my way out of your system. You will not see me again. You have two options. You can go back to Pluto and tell everyone what happened out here. It would be necessary for scientists to rewrite natural laws if they believed you. It has been done before, but usually with more persuasive evidence. There will be questions asked concerning the fact that no black hole has ever evaded capture, spoken, or changed velocity in the past. You can explain that when a hole has a chance to defend itself, the hole hunter does not survive to tell the story.”

“I will. I will tell them what happened!” Xanthia was eaten by a horrible doubt. Was it possible there had been a solution to her problem that did not involve Zoe’s death? Just how badly had the hole tricked her?

“There is a second possibility,” the hole went on, relentlessly. “Just what are you doing out here in a lifeboat?”

“What am I ... I told you, we had . . .” Xanthia stopped. She felt herself choking.