Blood and Fire (31 page)

“Okay,” said Parsons. “Go ahead and cut it open.”

“Just a moment,” Shibano said. “Okay, activating the cutting arm.” He held his right fist close to his shoulder for a moment, as if fitting it inside one of the robot's arms. Then, unclenching his fist, he pointed his gloved hand before him toward an invisible wall. Slowly, he outlined a wide circle in the air. When he finished, he returned his fist to the position next to his shoulder. Then, relaxing, lowered his hand again. He leaned forward and reported, “Okay, we're through ... Looking for the forward Med Bay ... We're moving past the access to the Fire Control Bay ...”

“There it is,” said Williger. “To your right. No, no, more to the left. That's it. See that medical closet? Open it. We're looking for a set of tubes with blue biowarning labels. No, no, not here. Up higher. Look there—there! That's it! That's what we want. Take the whole rack.”

This time, Shibano held both his arms up like the robot's. As soon as he felt the gloves click in, he stretched his hands forward to grab hold of an invisible object, maybe half a meter wide. Balancing himself carefully, he leaned backward and pulled the unseen object close to his chest—then lifted it slowly with his arms and placed it on top of his head. His arms remained in place for a moment, holding it. “Locking in place ...” he reported. “Just a moment. I'm going to use the auxiliary arms as well.” He shifted in his chair, half turning, then stretched up with his other pair of robot arms and held the invisible object with them as well. “Okay. I've got it,” he said. “Let's get out of here.”

Shibano leaned back in his chair, twisted slightly as if he were turning, and then leaned forward again as he steered the robot back to the aft airlock of the
Norway
.

“Okay ...” said Shibano. “We're here. Isaac is waiting at the
Norway
's aft Airlock Reception Bay.”

“Hold it there,” said Korie, pulling off his VR helmet. He looked across to Parsons. “Captain?”

She stepped over to his position. She bent her head close to his and spoke in a low tone. “What is it, Mr. Korie? Problem?”

“I don't know.”

“You have an itch?”

“No. Yes. I don't know.”

“Can we bring the robot aboard?”

Korie hesitated. “I don't know.”

Parsons straightened. She nodded aftward. “Talk to me.”

Korie followed her into the forward keel. She leaned back against one side of the passage, he leaned back against the opposite side. It was a common way for two individuals to chat aboard the starship—it still left room for a third person to pass between them. “Okay, what's going on?” asked Parsons.

“I don't know. I
mean
it,” said Korie. “For the first time, I honestly don't
know
.” He tried to gesture with his hands, describing an empty space between them. “See—always before, I
knew
. I had certainty about things. I could speak with authority. I knew the logic. I knew the way the machines worked, the way the intelligence engines thought, even sometimes the way the Morthans were setting their traps. I could see it—as clearly as if it were a blueprint projected on a display. But now, all of a sudden, I
can't
. It's like I've gone blind.”

“Dr. Williger says that you'll be feeling aftereffects of the process for a few days—”

“No,” said Korie, a little too quickly. “This isn't that. This is something I was starting to feel before then ...”

Parsons waited without speaking. She studied Korie but gave little indication of what she was thinking.

Korie looked down at his shoes. He dropped his hands to his sides. He sagged, shrinking within himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. A croak. “It's Hodel. And Berryman. Their deaths.
It was my fault. Everything that went wrong on this mission—it was my fault.”

He glanced up to Parsons, hoping for a cue—hoping for absolution; but the captain held her silence. Korie's gaze dropped to the deck again.

“You asked me where we should dock with the
Norway
. I said the nose. That was wrong. Once we were aboard, it was immediately obvious that I'd guessed wrong. I should have brought the team back. I didn't. I miscalculated the effect of the scanners on the plasmacytes. I got the team infected. I didn't realize the danger of the bloodworms—and Hodel died. And in the Cargo Bay, I should have gone last, but I didn't—and Berryman died. I screwed up, Captain.”

Parsons waited a moment, to be sure that he had finished. Then she said, “And now you're waiting for me to tell you that no, you didn't screw up, because I'm the captain, I take responsibility, I authorized you to board, and I stand behind you, right? You used your best judgment and all that?” Parsons shook her head. “Well, don't hold your breath, because I'm not going to give that speech. Yes, you did screw up. Did you learn anything from the experience?”

“I used my best judgment and it wasn't good enough.”

“That's right. Anything else?”

“I've been arrogant and overconfident in my ability to outthink a situation.”

“Yep, that's true too. Anything else?”

“I'm a jerk. I haven't been listening to what people are telling me. I'm too full of myself.”

“Nope. That's not true. Spare me the self-pity. I don't have time for it. Now, tell me—why can't we bring the robot aboard?”

“Because ...” said Korie, slowly and intensely. “I screwed up! My judgment can't be trusted
anymore
!”

“Ahh,” said Parsons, as if a great secret had been revealed. “Is that all?”

“Excuse me?” Korie blinked.

“Self-doubt. You screwed up. Someone died. So now you're doubting all the rest of your decisions. You're right on schedule. Next?”

Korie glared at her for a long moment, but her expression was implacable. She returned his anger with a questioning stare. “I'm right, aren't I?”

“Yes,” Korie admitted. “Damn you.”

“I'm not stupid, Mr. Korie. Do you think you're the first officer under my command who ever screwed up on a mission?”

“I'm not supposed to screw up—” Korie said.

“Oh, spare me that. You're only human, aren't you? You're not a
Morthan. Humans make mistakes. Lots of mistakes. But a mistake isn't failure—unless you use it as an excuse to quit.”

Korie allowed himself a rueful half-smile. “Yeah, I've heard that before. More than once.”

“Believe it. It's true. Now forget your itch for a minute,” Parsons said. “Can you think of any reason why we shouldn't bring Isaac back aboard?”

“We've taken every precaution I can think of,” Korie admitted. “If there's any reason why we shouldn't bring him back,
I can't think of it
—that's why I don't want you to bring him back. I say again,
my judgment can't be trusted anymore.
”

“Your judgment is fine. It's your confidence that's taken a beating. You're terrified of making another mistake.”

“This one—yes! If I'm wrong, we lose the ship.”

“We're already in danger of losing the ship—” Parsons stopped in mid-sentence to let Quilla Gamma pass between them. When the small blue woman was down the corridor and safely out of earshot, she resumed. “So just answer the question. Is there
any
reason you can think of why we shouldn't bring the robot back aboard?”

“Captain—do you really want to trust
my
judgment again?”

“Commander, I don't trust your judgment at all. I trust
mine
. But I want your honest opinion.” Her eyes were grim. “And then I'll make my decision.”

Korie hesitated. He met her glance and nodded his acquiescence. “I'm afraid that LENNIE planted time bombs we haven't thought of. I'm terrified we've missed something. Logically, I know we're safe from that. Everything he could have reached has been disconnected. And there's no way he could have gotten to the manual systems. After we killed the imps, HARLIE and I and Chief Leen installed an old-fashioned hands-on system. It's completely independent from HARLIE. We tested it and he couldn't read a single byte of its operation. Or so he said. I never doubted him at the time. Allegedly, it's clean. And this is exactly the kind of situation it was installed for. So if I have to go by sheer logic alone, I'd have to say it's safe to bring the robot back. Except that HARLIE knew the system was in place. And if he was going crazy, as crazy as a LENNIE, he would have known that if we found out, we'd pull his plug, and if we did that, then we'd have to go to the manual system. So if there were any way to get into it, he would have found it. He knew he couldn't get into our auxiliary autonomics—that was the whole point—but did he also leave a back door so he could? I don't know. I would have. So now, we have to depend on whether or not we trust HARLIE.”

“Do you?”

“I did ... I don't know if I still do.”

“If you were captain of the
Star Wolf
, Commander Korie, what would you order?”

Korie nodded thoughtfully. “If I were captain, I'd have to trust my own preparations. I'd bite the bullet and bring the robot back. But if I were captain, I don't think I'd be having this crisis of confidence—”

“Oh, horse exhaust! You'd still be having it. You'd just be having it in private. And I wouldn't be here to hold your hand.” Parsons turned and headed forward again. Korie glanced after her quizzically, then followed.

Parsons returned to the Forward Airlock Reception Bay with a grim expression. “Shibano?”

Wasabe looked up expectantly. Both he and Williger had taken off their VR helmets to confer quietly.

“Are you ready to bring the robot back aboard?”

“Yes, Captain.”

Parsons glanced over at Korie. Her eyes were narrow. Then she turned back to Shibano. “Okay, bring it back. Keep the repulsors on high. Keep the internal suppressor fields on, even after it's in our airlock. We'll triple-scan it before we pop the last hatch.” She glanced over at Korie again, this time with an expression of grim finality.

Shibano put his VR helmet back on. So did Williger. Captain Parsons watched over their shoulders as Shibano popped the
Norway
's inner hatch and moved the robot forward through it. She studied the displays on his console, nodded to herself—satisfied—then turned back to Korie. “Any questions?”

“No, Captain.”

She leaned sideways and spoke in lowered tones. “For what it's worth, I have the utmost confidence in your judgment, Mr. Korie. Never forget that.”

“Thank you, Captain. I apologize for my ... earlier doubts.”

“Don't. You were right to have those doubts. If you didn't have them, you wouldn't be valuable. Hell, you wouldn't be human. If you didn't have those doubts, then I'd have to have them. So thanks for carrying the burden. And thank you for your honesty.”

“Thank
you
, Captain.”

“Don't get sticky, Korie.” But she smiled, as if sharing a private joke with herself, and turned forward again, just as Williger pulled off her helmet and dropped it on the floor beside her. Quilla Gamma moved to pick it up.

“Okay, it's clean,” the doctor reported. “We can bring it in. On your order, Captain.”

Parsons glanced sideways to Korie. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Mr. Korie?” she invited.

Korie nodded. “Bring it in, Shibano,” he said. And crossed his fingers behind his back.

The inner hatch of the airlock popped open and Isaac trundled through. The hatch whooshed shut behind the machine with a soft
thump
of air. The robot rolled to a halt, four of its six arms holding a rack of small blue tubes above its “head.”