It could be worse, Horne said, valiantly.
It already is, for la Reine, I pointed out. We might be able to find out more if we can find the occupant of the tenth cocoon. If were lucky, he or she might have the technical expertise to get the communication systems working.
If he intended to be helpful, Lowenthal said, he wouldnt have gone into hiding.
We dont know that the persons hiding, I pointed out. If it is a person.
Whats the alternative? Horne asked, not making it clear whether she meant the alternative to the hypothesis that the individual in question was hiding or that the individual in question was a person.
La Reine might have made herself an autonomous organic body to serve as a refuge if and when her conventional hardware got blasted, I said. Shed already made provision to save us if things went from bad to worse, so it would only have been sensible to make whatever use of the same escape route she could. If she did set up something of that sort, though, she might well have been quixotic enough to let Rocambole take advantage of it instead. That was the impression I formed, at any rate. Whoever the extra person is, he or she probably went into the tunnels looking for something something that would help us all. More machinery, smart or dumb.
Lowenthal frowned as he tried to follow the possible consequences of those suggestions.
Who the hell is this Rocambole character? Niamh Horne wanted to know.
Just that, I said. A character. I thought at first he was an avatar of Excelsior, but it seems more likely that hes a copy of Child of Fortune .
My spaceship?
Not any more. He turned pirate when he decided to take us off Excelsior. I still dont know exactly why he did that but you might yet have a chance to ask him.
Never mind that, Lowenthal said. Lets concentrate on our own resources. We have no alternative but to hope that someone will come for us, eventually. What we have to do is to make sure that were still alive when they arrive. If we can find a way to hurry them, thats good but if not
Theyll hurry if they can, I said. Were even more important and more interesting now than we were before this whole thing spun out of control. The world, if theres anything left of it, will be interested to find out whether Mortimer Gray can achieve yet another miraculous escape from the jaws of death and, of course, to find out what Adam Zimmermans decision will be. We have the advantage of suspense, you see. Scheherazade might have lost her head, but even the bad guys want to know how the story ends. Even if were the last living humans in the universe, theyll come to find us.
I had to explain what I meant about Zimmermans decision, but I didnt have to go into nearly as much detail as Davida, Alice, and la Reine.
Lowenthal didnt take it at all well. They might not stop at offering us the opportunity of robotization, he murmured. They might decide that we need it whether we like it or not. And they have the means to turn us all into sloths.
Weve been repairing them for centuries, I pointed out. Maybe its only fair that they should have a turn. But that wasnt what la Reine was trying to set up. For those in her camp, it really is a matter of selling the idea. They dont want to force us they want to win us over. Thats what they care about. It makes for a better game, a more meaningful victory.
Zimmerman wont go for it, Horne predicted, just as I had.
Playing devils advocate, I said: Who knows what Zimmerman will go for after all hes been through? He has little enough in common with me, let alone with you. Who knows how deep his fear of death really cuts, or what might seem to him to be an acceptable final solution? One things for sure from now on, the effective rulers of humankinds little corner of the universe are the AMIs.
Zimmerman lived in an era when people still said if you cant beat em, join em .
Its not what he wanted, Lowenthal pointed out.
He might have known what he wanted back in twenty thirty-five, I said, but that was because he didnt know what there might be to want. Hes met Davida now, and Alice. Thirty-two sixty-three is a new year and a new millennium, with more and stranger opportunities than he ever dreamed possible. He might set an example to us all.
Who cares? said Niamh Horne, brutally.
We should all care, I told her, teasingly. Hes our Adam, the architect of our world or the closest thing weve got.
And what does that make you? she retorted.
I knew what she was implying, but I was way ahead of her. Im Madoc Tam Lin, I said. Ive supped with the Queen of the Fays and Ive lived to tell the tale. Whether we get out of this alive or not, Im the star of my own subplot and, unlike either of you, Im already way ahead of the game.
Fifty-Four
Rocambole
Ididnt go into the tunnels looking for Rocambole. I went to get a little peace and quiet. I was barbarian enough to have carried forward a certain regard for privacy, and a certain nostalgia for the company of walls that didnt have eyes and ears. Reality itself seemed quiet and unobtrusive after the insistence of la Reines VE, but that only served to sharpen the craving. So I found an ancient piece of chalk, which the people whod sent in the dumb robots to hollow out the tunnels had used to mark out their own exploratory journeys, and I set off with a lantern to see how mazily extensive they really were.