Jack McDevitt - Eternity Road

“Thank you,” said Chaka. “You’re welcome. So what is the world like now?” Chaka and Shannon glanced at each other. Shannon said,

“l think the world you knew is gone. We come from a small confederacy of cities on the Mississippi. The evidence so far is that there isn’t anything else.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. My makers had much to commend them.” His tone changed. “Do you customarily travel by land vehicle? Aircraft? What?”

“Horse,” said Chaka.

The silence wrapped itself around them. Chaka thought she detected a mild vibration in the walls. “I’d like to offer a piece of advice, if I may. Be careful of the ruins. Avoid them. Some have very elaborate security safeguards. And the Roadmakers designed their systems to endure.”

They asked Mike whether he had seen the first expedition, explaining that they had also arrived on the maglev.

“Yes,” he said. “They were my first passengers in almost nine decades.”

“Did they tell you where they were going?” asked Avila.

“I never got to talk to them.”

“Why not?”

“I think I scared them off. I said hello and they ran out into the night.” That set off a round of laughter. “They stayed outside,” he continued, “until morning. Then they came back and got their horses.”

“I’d like to have seen it,” said Chaka.

“There’ve been other visitors from time to time. Some never came within range of my speakers. None ever stopped to ask who I was, until Avila.”

Avila felt a rush of pleasure.

And as if they all knew what was coming, the room fell silent. Tense.

“I don’t want to do it,” said Avila.

“I know. But I can’t do it for myself. I was terrified last night.”

“At the prospect of dying?”

“At the possibility you might leave.”

“There’ll be others,” Avila said. “You won’t be alone anymore, now that we know you’re here. There’ll be people coming in from the League to talk to you.”

For a long time, Mike did not respond. When the voice came again it was flat, devoid of emotion: “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but even while you ‘re here, I am still alone. You and I do not function on the same level.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Unfortunately, you don’t even have the capacity to connect me with my siblings.”

“You could teach us.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not an electrician.”

Avila was feeling desperate. “Even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to hurt you. We can’t even see you.”

“It’s easy, “he said.

They retreated outside into the fading light of a gray day. It would require the work of a few minutes. And he would be gone.

“We’d cut off a priceless avenue of knowledge,” said Quait. “The people at the Imperium would hang us.” Flojian pulled his jacket tight around him. A brisk wet wind blew across the island. “That’s so,” he said. “If we do this thing, we’d better not say anything about it when we get home.”

The remark rang a bell and they looked at one another. Could something like this have happened to Karik? “I don’t think so,” Flojian responded to the unasked question. “My father would never have agreed to this kind of proposition.”

“It’s immoral,” said Avila. “Healers are pledged to heal. And to do no harm. Under any circumstances.”

Shannon folded his arms. Mist covered the distant sea. “I’m not much at arguing moral issues, but I wouldn’t want someone to leave me to the wolves. That’s what we’re talking about here. Maybe worse.”

Avila’s eyes filled with darkness.

A sudden wind chopped across the surface of the water “Jon’s right,” said Chaka. “I vote we do it.”

They argued back and forth for a couple of hours. Occasionally, the sides changed: Avila conceded that they could not abandon Mike; Shannon concluded at one point that the entity was far too valuable to terminate; Chaka agreed that Silas would have been horrified at cutting off so valuable a source of knowledge. But in the end, they could not simply walk away.

Avila set her lamp on the floor and looked around the empty room as if she expected to see someone sitting in one of the chairs. “Mike?” she said. “If you’re sure, we’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Avila.”

“We can only stay a few days. We’ll do it before we leave.”

“No. Do it tonight.”

“Are you really so anxious to die?” She used the word deliberately, hoping to shock him out of his resolve.

Mike didn’t seem to notice. “I’m not even sure my makers intended that I be conscious.” he said. “However that may be, I’ve had enough.”

“But why tonight? You’ve been here all this time; can’t you wait a few more days?”

“No. I want to be rid of the light. And I know this isn’t easy for you. I’m afraid you’ll change your mind. That you and your friends will back away, that you ‘II accede to the moral code you’ve constructed for yourselves, and run away in the night.”

“We won’t run away,” she said. In her mind she was once again walking through the dawn-stricken streets after Tully’s death, returning to the Temple. Unable it seemed, to save anyone.

” You know how to do it?”

“Yes, we do. I do.” No sharing responsibility for this. “All right. I’ve still got a train out there. It’ll be back shortly. Give me time to run it into the shop. I’m going to wash it down before I put it in storage. It’ll take about two hours. After that’s done, I’m at your disposal.”

“A joke,” said Avila. “Right?”

He laughed. “Of course. Avila, be happy for me. This is a night to celebrate.”

“Not for me.”

“It’s in a gray box. It says MICA slant SR across the front. You’ll find a switch, a push button marked ‘POWER’ on the side of the box. There’ll be a slight vibration inside. Push the button. The vibration will stop. When you’ve done that, but not before, take the box apart. You might have a problem with that. Use an axe if you have to. Inside the box, there’s a white metal casing that contains a black disk. Remove the disk and destroy it. Throwing it into the lake will be sufficient.”

“Will it hurt?” Avila had asked. “No,” Mike had said. “I have no capability for physical pain.”

They’d all crowded into his room and sat, trying to make conversation. Mike had seemed cheerful enough, encouraging them to keep on with their quest. “I’ve had some experience with people,” he’d said, “and I think few of them ever had an opportunity to achieve greatness. You do. Make it count.”

When the maglev came in, they’d all sat more or less quietly, no one wanting to suggest they get on with things, but everyone anxious to have it over. It was Mike who broke the long half-hour of strained half-sentences and false starts and pointless comments by observing that it was time.

Avila would do it. She would be accompanied by Shannon. The others offered to stay with Mike, but he insisted they leave. “Thanks,” he said. “If any of you ever have any regrets, think of this in theological terms. You’ve let me out of hell.”

The suite of offices which contained the gray box were located at concourse level on the south side.

“It’s in a small, windowless room in the rear. You’ll have to go through three doors to get there. I can’t know for sure, but the last time I had visual capabilities in the area, the doors were still there and they were locked. The first one, the one you ‘II see from the branch corridor off the concourse, is marked ‘OPERATIONS.’ It’s at the end of the corridor, just past the washrooms. It opens into what used to be a reception area. Go straight back. At the rear, on the left, there’s a glass door It says ‘CONTROL UNIT.’ Or it will if the glass is still in place, which it probably won’t be. Go through that; now there’s a wall with four doors, two on each side. I’m immediately on the right. Room is 2A.”