Wraith-silent, the enormous barrier began to melt into the floor. Ashili spared it an astonished glance but rapidly returned her attention to the four men confronting her. Her grip on her prisoner never slackened.
As the barrier sank, it revealed a pair of heavily armed men waiting on the other side. They hesitated until the obstacle had retracted completely, then rushed forward. Two others came running from the distant corners of the lock, a man and a woman.
“You’ve done well.” The individual who greeted Ashili had the name “Praxedes” heat-sealed to a tag over his heart.
“Thanks. I know they don’t look like much, but you’ve got to stay close to them and keep active weapons on them at all times, or they’re liable to have that intervene. They call it the Autothor.” She released Mina Gelmann, who stepped away rubbing at her neck, and indicated the drifting ellipse.
The other man’s gaze narrowed as he inspected the softly pulsing turquoise oval. “What the hell is it?”
“Some kind of communications and control device for the artifact. It’ll only respond to them. I know; I’ve experimented.”
Praxedes nodded. “Can you make it understand that if any one of us is so much as singed, all five of these old folks are going to die?” He stared at the seniors, who had clustered protectively around Gelmann. “I don’t know what the response time of your ‘Autothor’ is, but all of us are quick shots. Don’t make us prove it.” He hesitated. “What about the robot?”
“Kitchen mechanical. I’m still not sure what it’s doing with them.”
“You’d never believe it. Not that it would raise you up if you did,” Ksarusix murmured.
Ashili ignored the irrelevant comment. “Do we leave now?”
“No. Orders are to explore some of the artifact first. How much have you seen?”
“Not a great deal. It’s simply too big.” She considered. “To give you some idea, one room holds an artificial ocean. There’s another that’s full of instrumentation on a grand scale, and has some kind of viewport.”
Praxedes conversed briefly with his three companions. “Sounds promising.”
She nodded and turned to the seniors. “Lead the way.”
“Why not?” Heath mumbled. He turned and started off, his friends following.
Ashili hung close to Gelmann while her people paired off with the four men. Gun muzzles were pressed into backs and held there as the procession advanced.
By the time they reached the room Gelmann referred to as the observation chamber the five seniors were exhausted. Together with the mumbling, complaining serving robot, they were herded into a corner next to the high-arching window, through which the gleaming lunar surface was still sharply visible. Two of the Candombleans kept watch over the seated prisoners while Praxedes and another named Eradou conferred with Ashili.
“They seem docile enough.” The commando in charge eyed the seated, wheezing seniors. “They’re older than I expected.”
“Revelation of my true identity hit them pretty hard,” she explained. “The old woman’s inclined to be stubborn, but at this point I don’t believe they’ll make any trouble. I think they finally realize how far they’re in over their heads. Basically they’ve given up.”
“Good. I’d just as soon have an easy time of it.” Praxedes let his gaze rove around the immense chamber, taking in the towering monoliths and peculiar banks of enigmatic instrumentation. “And yet, they’re in control of all this.”
“That’s too strong a determination,” she insisted. “They’ve accomplished everything by accident, nothing on purpose. From what I’ve been able to learn they stumbled into the artifact, activated it by their presence, and control it through coincidence. Anyone lucky enough to have followed the same sequence could’ve done the same.”
“You’re certain this Autothor will not respond to you, or to us?” She nodded once. “That will make our goals more difficult to reach, but not impossible.” He eyed the elderly prisoners. “I take it you followed the official scenario and asked them to have the artifact move?”
“They declined to comply.”
“Obviously. We need to do something to persuade them. Which one is in charge?”
Her eyes settled on the inconsolable Heath. He was staring at the deck, his white curls thrust forward like a dirty cap of raw cotton. She shifted to Gelmann, still coughing slightly but defiant.
“None of them. They sort of take turns. The tall dark one claims to be an ex-colonel from the Victoria League, though I’m not sure I believe him.”
Praxedes’ gaze settled on the librarian. “He’ll do. Colonel or not.”
“How do you plan to proceed?” she heard herself asking. “I had to threaten to kill the woman before they agreed to let you aboard.”
The commando nodded approvingly. “No reason to mess with a procedure that’s already proven successful. We’ll choose one … let’s say the big fat one … and announce that if they don’t obey our commands, we’ll kill him. Slowly. If it worked for you, it should work equally well for us.”
She nodded. “And after we reach Reconcavo they’ll be disembarked and returned to Earth.”
Bassan had been silent until now. “Returned? That’s not to be allowed. They’ve spent a lot of time on the ship and they know too much about it. They could reveal secrets now rightfully ours. Official determination is that since their presence aboard is widely known, they’re to have a collective accident.” He gazed at the prisoners. “No loss. They’ve lived most of their lives already anyway.”
Ashili frowned uncomfortably. “I was led to believe that once we’d secured control of the artifact, they’d be permitted to depart.”
Praxedes shrugged. “So there’s been a small change in procedure. Don’t let it bother you. We’ll take care of things.”
“But they’re just a bunch of old folks who, like you said, wandered into this by accident. Is it really necessary to kill them?”
“It’s been decided. You’ve got a double promotion and a commendation waiting for you. Lieutenant. Concentrate on that.”
“If they see or suspect what you’re going to do, they’re liable to ask the Autothor to intervene.”
Praxedes smiled humorlessly. “Then we’ll just have to make sure they don’t see or suspect. It’ll be fast and painless. Once we’ve secured control, we can do it while they’re asleep.” He puckered his lips and made little popping sounds. “If you’re having a crisis of conscience, why don’t you take a walk? Ogun knows you deserve some time to yourself, after what you’ve accomplished here.”
She licked her lower lip. “Just go easy if they’re a little slow to cooperate, okay? They’re old and it shouldn’t take much.”
“Oh sure, we’ll take it easy.” Praxedes and Bassan smiled identical smiles. “As easy as we can, bearing in mind that both the Federals and the Keis are hanging in the spatial neighborhood with a hundred warships apiece trying to decide their respective next moves, and that they won’t wait forever. Especially if they’ve a spy or two on our own flagship who’s letting them know what’s going on here.” The two commandos started toward the little knot of subdued, elderly captives.
Ashili found herself torn within. She’d never been torn within over anything before, and it was not a pleasant sensation. Not that she minded killing in the service of the Candomble. It was what she’d been trained for. But assassination and execution were two different things. The seniors she’d swum with and shared food with and slept securely among during the past days were inoffensive and harmless. For the life of her she could not rationalize their deaths.
There was no one to appeal to. Both Praxedes and Bassan ranked her. Mild-spoken Iranaputra, motherly Gelmann, kindly Shimoda, and amusingly acerbic Hawkins were all going to die and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. And Heath, who even in his boasting reminded her so much of her father, dead and gone from a small-craft accident when she was ten. She found herself questioning things she’d never questioned before.
Confused, upset, and generally nonplussed, she decided to take Praxedes’ suggestion. Turning away from the puzzled seniors, she headed for the high-arching portal which led out of the observation room, turned right down a vast corridor, and lengthened her stride. Immediately she knew she’d acted correctly. The silence was like a blanket, calm and reassuring.
Unbeknownst to her, Bassan was following her every move. Her reaction to a straightforward discussion of their situation had been uncharacteristically equivocal. They’d known one another for several years and reactionary responses were unlike her. Usually she carried out her orders efficiently and without question, as she had in obtaining a foothold on the artifact.
He made a mental note to tell Praxedes that when the time came to put the seniors to rest, they needed to do it when Ashili wasn’t around. A small courtesy, but one that in her present state of mind he felt she would appreciate. Or perhaps he was overreacting, reading something into her expression that wasn’t there. He shrugged. He’d bring the subject up again when she returned from her walk.
His gaze traveled about the huge room. What phenomena there were to be examined, what lessons to be learned from this wondrous artifact by the scientists of the Candomblean League! As for himself and his compatriots, their lesser minds could only speculate on what marvels lay elsewhere in the colossal ship, waiting to be discovered. Setting aside his concern for the morose Ashili, he moved to rejoin his companions, checking to make sure his weapon was activated.
Ashili found herself running. She was a superb athlete and covered great stretches of deck with muscular, measured strides, stopping only when the soreness in her legs spread to her throat. Hands on knees, she bent over, sucking wind, having momentarily (but only momentarily) managed to forget the five unnecessary deaths she was going to be a party to.
She had been educated by the Candomble, trained by the Candomble, lived for the Candomble; but at that particular moment in time she would have been forced to admit that she neither understood nor condoned the Candomble’s intentions.
Straightening, she took stock of her surroundings. She was in still another corridor. The light was much dimmer than elsewhere, though still adequate for her to see by. Breathing hard but evenly, she walked on while continuing to study her surroundings.
It was good to exhaust yourself once in a while, she told herself. For the mind as well as the body. It helped one to put aside visions of such things as five forthcoming useless deaths.
Surely there had to be another way besides murder for the Candomble to ensure security redundancy?
