James P. Hogan (40 page)

“If it is indeed Dollar who would speak with me, what need has He of techniques that serve the limits of mortals?” it said.

“Would you question His methods and His judgment?”

“I would not. But I do question
your
veracity.”

All of which was pretty much the way Korshak had expected things would go. Lubanov had predicted that the target zone would be the tail section, and Vaydien had been able to provide information about the details and geometry of that part of the craft, along with some suggestions as to likely places of concealment. But that still left a lot of territory and hardware to be covered within the main drive nozzle’s quarter-mile-diameter aperture. The illumination of the interior by a pulsed-code signal from a wide-angle source floating a couple of miles off the stern had been to draw Tek into revealing its position, which its transmissions had pinpointed.

Korshak had spent a good part of the shuttle flight out from
Aurora
practicing with one of Masumichi’s neural couplers, and by now he felt comfortable with it. Although he knew intellectually that he was sitting back in repose at a console aboard
Outmark
, with everything he thought he was seeing and doing entering his brain via an antenna trained in the direction of
Envoy
, the sensation of actually being there, with the cavernous recesses of the drive ducts and their reaction fairings disappearing away into blackness ahead, the stark outlines of ancillary structures around him, and the void of space opening out behind, was uncanny. Guided by computed updates that appeared as a cross icon superposed on his visual field, he had been getting steadily closer and could now discern Tek’s outline through the image intensifier.

“Okay, I’ve got it,” he said – the audio-vocal from his head harness was switched through to a speaker in the room.

“There, upper right of center,” he heard Vaydien’s voice say to the others, who were following on a screen copying Korshak’s visual input.

“The rounded bulge?” Masumichi’s voice checked.

“Yes – in the recess behind that diverter fluting.”

“That’s Tek? It seems to be wearing some kind of shroud. It must be the cape that Korshak described.”

“Yes, I see it.” The last voice belonged to Vogol, who was also fitted out with a harness and collar at another console.

Korshak moved a hand to adjust a control of the personal-mobility unit that Kog was clipped to – a compact device that suited individuals used for moving themselves around outside at the construction sites.

“Okay, I’m moving in,” he told them. “Are we ready with the special effects?”

“Check,” Lois Iles confirmed.

Something nearby caught Tek’s attention. A strange, radiant glow had appeared and was approaching. As it drew closer, the robot saw that it was more than just a glow: a glowing shape standing out among the shadows, getting larger. The shape was in the form of the sacred $sign. But even as the sensation of shock reverberated through the reactive level of Tek’s circuits, the cognizant part reminded the robot that it was facing a resourceful opponent.

Before it had accommodated to this new development, the sign exploded in a flash of light that faded rapidly to be replaced by a familiar figure in a dark robe with a deep cowl. Or at least, it was a figure in a familiar form. On Etanne, the Messenger from Almighty Dollar had taken over a human vehicle, but this could be no human body, unprotected in the vacuum of space. The pulsating illumination from outside had ceased, but the Messenger was holding a lamp which Tek’s optical analyzer showed to be flickering to the same code.

“Am I not the Messenger who revealed himself to you as was foretold, and stood with you before the stars when Dollar spoke?”
the lamp asked.

“You are indeed of that form,” Tek sent back. “But why would the power that could usurp your voice on Etanne not be capable of usurping your appearance, too? If Dollar’s will were to speak with me, I would know. But I do not know. To grant you credit of belief would constitute an unsecured loan, which violates sound business principles. I have studied the scriptures.” Tek had moved its hand to the detonator button on the horse’s control panel and unlocked the safety latch. It feared a trick, and if anything sudden happened was resolved that its last action would be to carry out the mission.

“Dollar’s Messenger seeks no loan. Is he not currency backed by gold of the highest standard?”

“Certainly is the Messenger of Dollar so. But I say he whom I see before me is a counterfeit of base metal. Dollar’s message has been paid in full and the receipt issued. No more is owed. Nothing further needs to be said.”

Korshak had been bracing the mirror in front of Kog at a forty-five-degree angle to Tek’s line of sight, which meant that it had reflected a portion of the outside starfield before Kog entered the drive nozzle, and of the internal shadows and structures afterward. In either case it would have been invisible against the surroundings without minute examination. The principle was the same as that of the mirrors in the cabinet that Korshak had used to contrive Vaydien and Mirsto’s escape from Shandrahl’s palace in Arigane long ago. The dollar sign affixed to the back of it, formed from a modestly heated electrical conductor that would be sufficient to register in Tek’s infrared range, had been added as an afterthought at Lois’s suggestion. The flash of light out of which Kog in his Genhedrin robe had magically appeared had overloaded Tek’s visual sensors long enough for Korshak to send the mirror and mobility unit out of sight behind a flow divider in one direction, while the reaction propelled him to an anchorage at the base of a strut in the other – both of which features he had carefully steered toward before igniting it. Using a surreptitiously wedged foot to prevent himself from gyrating feet over head while he spoke with the lamp – a distinctly undignified spectacle to have presented for a Messenger from the Almighty – he now confronted Tek from a distance of twenty or so feet.

“We’ve got an intensified close-up from one of the drones,” Lois’s voice said in Korshak’s ear. A number of self-mobile camera units had floated inconspicuously in under the rim since Tek’s location was identified, and had been moving to obtain the best viewing angles. “He’s on something that looks like a dumbbell, with a narrow center section. The cape was probably more to cover his movements outside. He has it thrown back now. There’s what looks like a panel in front of him, and he has one hand clasping something on it. His posture looks suspicious and wary.”

“Got it,” Korshak acknowledged. It told him that Tek was right on the edge. Trying to talk Tek out of the task it was committed to by concocting some line that Dollar did want
Envoy
to fly after all wouldn’t be the way to go, Korshak decided. The contrary was too deeply rooted in Tek’s mind, and the confusion that would result from arguing otherwise would very likely be enough to send him past the tipping point. The only way was to get Tek to open up its NC link and seize control before it could act. There was one card left to play that might do it.

“I gave you a name by which you would know me,”
he sent to Tek.
“Would that be sufficient to convince you?”
Vogol’s inability to supply the name was where his attempt to impersonate the Messenger had fallen down last time.

“You offer yourself as your own guarantor?” Tek retorted. “What kind of fund manager would accept that? There has been ample time for you to probe the mind of the novice who was used, and your powers to do so, I do not doubt. Your bond is worthless on my balance sheet.”

“Wisely said, Tek. But it is not my pledge that I offer. Would you accept the word of Banker Lareda, who speaks in turn for the Archbanker Sorba?”

The pause before Tek answered was noticeable enough for Korshak to know he had made an impact. “The banker himself? Indeed, that would be a certification of authenticity that could not be ignored – if it were the signed original. But I see the trick. You will tell me I have to activate my receiver circuit for the banker. Thus would I be undone.”

Korshak flipped his audio to local long enough to murmur at Vogol. “This is it.”

“Ready and primed. We have the beam locked on him,” Vogol confirmed.

Korshak switched back to Tek.
“Remote communication is not necessary. The eventuality was anticipated, and the proof that you desire is already there with you now.”

The tilting of the head beneath the hooded cape captured the human mannerism perfectly. “How so?”

“Was it not Banker Lareda personally who provided you with the cape of concealment that you wear?”

“It was.”

“And did Banker Lareda himself not arrange for it to be made in the workshops on Etanne?”

“To my knowledge, it was so.”

“Then I will reveal to you now, Tek, that Dollar, in His wisdom, even then inspired the banker to have written into that creation the confirmation that it was known you would require.”

Tek’s befuddlement again resulted in a hesitation that was palpable. “I do not comprehend the terms of this contract,” it returned finally.

“The name that it was agreed would be the sign of Dollar’s true Messenger is still known to you, is it not?”
Korshak sent.

“It is.”

“Look then carefully among the folds of the garment that Banker Lareda commanded be made. And there you will find the proof that cannot be denied.”

“Thus you would distract my attention while you move to thwart my design.”

“Your hand is poised, and no move could be swift enough. But the moment is not yet.”
Korshak opened his arms out and then folded them stolidly on his chest.
“Search for the sign, Tek.”

The robot looked down hesitantly, then quickly up again for a moment as if to check. It loosened a side of the cape from its attachment, turned it over, and began examining along the edge, glancing up every few seconds – but the robed figure of Kog continued watching and waiting impassively. And then Tek came to a corner, opened a fold to examine something more closely, finally raising it before its face and staring at it wonderingly.

In accordance with his lifelong custom of endorsing his creations, Korshak had signed his name at a place where two of the seams came together. But it wouldn’t have done to leave evidence of his true identity lying around, so he had signed it SHAKOR.

“I, who was chosen, doubted! Can it ever be absolved?”

“Ask not me, but He who awaits your answer.”

Vogol came through. “The beam’s registering! He’s opening up.”

“Go for it!” Lubanov snapped.

Tek felt the same overpowering sense of possession that had come over it in the viewing gallery on Etanne. The robot just had time to surrender to the blissful sensation of ecstasy sweeping through its being before commands coming in over the NC beam overrode its internal functions, and the consciousness that it had been experiencing ceased.

A site tug carrying a dozen suited engineers and technical specialists arrived less than a half hour later to retrieve the two robots and haul the bomb and its conveyance away for examination and disposal. The operation was performed surreptitiously, without any public announcement. Before the tug had returned to
Outmark
, Lubanov’s fast-response force was quietly embarked on an unscheduled shuttle departure. Not long after its arrival at
Aurora
, an unremarkable transporter appeared off the hub at Etanne, requesting docking permission. The important thing had been to get them there before
Envoy
was launched. The Dollarian Academy was overrun and occupied before anyone there realized that something had gone seriously amiss and had time to start thinking about removing evidence.

Tek’s self-initiated communications blackout turned out to have had its advantages too. A message to Lubanov from the unit’s commander reported that the viewing gallery at Etanne was filled with cult members from the various sects, waiting to see the launch, including a large contingent of Dollarians who had been brought out to witness the fulfillment of Archbanker Sorba’s prophecy that it would end disastrously.

At Cereta’s invitation, Korshak and the others stayed at
Outmark
to watch the launch from the dome of the site operations tower, which was being used to direct the event. Although the construction and traffic-movement control that had been going on for months was over and most of the associated work stations shut down, the crews were back almost to a man to see their effort and dedication brought to its culmination. Virtually all of Constellation would be following the live transmission on screens, although the flash – even from that distance – would easily be visible to the naked eye. The latest news was that much of the protest movement seemed to be wilting in the tide of excitement and enthusiasm that was taking over, with some of its proponents showing signs of last-minute defection.

“T-minus-five and counting. Fine attitude correction effected. Ignition sequencer is go.” Cyblic Heshtar, who had directed site operations and was assisting the launch team, reported from a console. Cereta was not actively involved in this phase but stood looking on from the center of a group to one side that included Wesl Inchow, head of the probe instrumentation program, whose part was also over. Korshak was with Vaydien and Masumichi, taking in the views of
Envoy
from numerous screens around the floor, being sent by remote cameras positioned close in. Outside, it was visible to the eye as a bright spot in the starfield, dimly discernible through the dome wall darkened to protect against the light and radiation glare when the drive fired.

It hung serenely, drifting almost imperceptibly against the cosmic background, like a coiled spring or a pent-up racehorse at the starting line, its very stillness and tranquility seemingly a portent of the awesome power lying within it, waiting to be unleashed. Watching it on the large display dominating the floor, Korshak felt that finally his coming of age in the new world of wonders to which his life had led was complete. Twelve years ago he had been a wandering illusionist with a talent for mechanisms, to whom such a creation would have been as inconceivable as the true nature of the heavens would have been to any inhabitant of Arigane. But he had studied and he had learned, and his understanding had grown until he was able to contribute to such work as Masumichi’s. And now, with
Envoy
, he had become a part of something that would once have seemed impossible.