Vexed, he took a moment for himself and stopped at a small side pocket just off the spiral corridor. Here was the only room in Argo devoted solely to honoring their link to antiquity. It was large enough for ceremonies such as marriages or deaths, which Killeen had duly performed in the last two years, and dominated by two iron-dark slabs on two walls.
These were the Legacies, Argo’s computer memories said. They were inscribed with spidery impressions that glinted in all colors if a light shone upon them. A digital language, clearly, though couched in terms even the Argo programs could not unravel. The ship had severe instructions to preserve these tablets, embedded in the ceramo-walls, against all depredations. Clearly here was some incomprehensible clue to the origin of humans at the Center, and perhaps much else—but Killeen had no idea how to pursue this avenue.
He came here, instead, to sit on a simple bench and think. The looming, somber presence of the twin-slab Legacies gave him a curiously calming sensation of a firm link to a human past unknown and yet magnificent. In ancient days humans had built ships like this, plied the thin currents between suns, and lived well, free of the grinding presence of vastly superior beings.
Killeen envied the people of that time. He paused now to run his palms over the smooth surface of the Legacies, as if some fragment of ageold vision and wisdom could seep into him.
Now that the problems of Cap’ncy beset him, he thought often of Abraham and all those from times before. They had led the grudging retreat before the mechs. They had given everything.
To Killeen and the Bishops fate had granted a shred of hope. A fresh world, new visions. He could liberate his people or he could lose their last gamble.
And this opportunity had come just one bare generation late. Abraham would have known what to do now. Abraham had been a natural leader. His sunbrowned, easy air had commanded without visible effort. Killeen missed his father far more than he had in the days after Abraham’s disappearance at the Calamity when Citadel Bishop fell. Time and again he had wondered what his father would have done….
He sighed and got to his feet. His hand brushed the Legacies once more. Then he turned and left, the mottled brown face of the nearby planet framed in his right eye, so that he could study new pictures as they arrived.
He was mulling over this vision so deeply that he didn’t hear the running feet in the spiral corridor. A body slammed into his shoulder and spun him around.
He fetched up against the wall, the wind knocked out of him. His son peered into his face. “You all right, Dad?”
“I…didn’t hear…you coming.”
Besen and three others came running up, their hot pursuit of Toby brought to a halt as they saw the Cap’n.
“We were just, y’know, playin’ a li’l kickball,” Toby said sheepishly, holding up a small red sphere.
“It’s lots fun, on the axis,” another boy said.
“Yeasay, funner with low grav,” Besen put in. Her eyes were zesty and bright.
Killeen nodded. “Glad you’re keeping your legs in shape,” he said. A meaningful glance at the others prompted them to leave him alone with Toby.
“You steamed ’bout what happened in the control vault?”
Toby chewed at his lip, conflict warring in his face. “Don’t see why you had to roust me.”
“I won’t give you the discipline lecture, but—”
“Glad ’bout that. Been hearin’ nothin’ but that from you.”
“You haven’t given me much choice.”
“And you aren’t givin’ me much chance.”
“How you figure?”
Toby shrugged irritably. “Ridin’ me alla time.”
“Only when you force me.”
“Look, I’m just tryin’, that’s all.”
“Trying too hard, maybe.”
“I’m tired out from just sittin’. Wanna do somethin’.”
“Only when you’re ordered.”
“That’s it? No—”
“And you’ll belay your gab when I give you an order, too.”
Toby’s lip curled. “That’s your old Ling Aspect talkin’, right? What’s ‘belay’ mean?”
“Means stop. And my Aspects are—”
“Ever since you got it, seems like it’s givin’ the orders.”
“I take advice, certainly—”
“Seems like some old fart’s runnin’ Argo, not my dad.”
“I keep my Aspects under control.” Killeen heard his voice, stiff and formal, and made himself say more warmly, “You know what it’s like sometimes, though. You’ve had two Faces now for—what?—a year?”
Toby nodded. “I got ’em runnin’ okay.”
“I’m sure you do. They ride easy?”
“Pretty near. They give me tech stuff, mostly.”
