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scuffed through the amber drifts of fallen leaves, kicking golden explosions
of leaves into the air. He thought of their marriage ceremony, in the gardens
of her parents estate, with the oval bridge reflected in the lake. As they d
made their vows a wind out of the hills had ruffled the reflection and taken
it away, snapping at the awning above them, blowing off hats and making the
priest clutch at her robes, but the same strong, spring-scented breeze had
stroked the tops of the veil trees and sent a shimmering white cloud of
blossom falling around them, like snow.
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A few of the petals were still resting on her fur and eyelashes at the end of
the service when he turned to her, removed his own ceremonial muzzle and hers,
and kissed her. Their friends and family hurrahed; hats were thrown into the
air and some were caught by another gust of wind, to land in the lake and sail
off across the little waves like a dainty flotilla of brightly coloured boats.
He thought again of her face, her voice, those last few moments. Live for me,
he had said, and made her promise. How could they have known it would be a
promise she could never keep, and he would still live to remember?
Huyler s voice broke in. -~Done your thinking, Major?
-~Yes, sir. Did you catch anything?
-~No. Just physiological stuff Looks like we ve still got some degree of
privacy. Oh; the machine says it s finished.
Quilan looked at the drone, which had arrived at the far end of the spoon of
floor. -~ What does it ... Look, Huyler, can I talk to that thing directly?
-~I think I can set that up, now it s finished. I ll still be able to hear
though.
-~ I don t mind, I just...
-~ There. Try that.
-~Machine? Drone?
-~ Yes, Major Quilan.
-~Are there any other personality constructs in here, anywhere within the
hull?
No. Only the one I was tasked with discovering earlier which now shares
co-ordinates with yourself, that of Admiral-General Huyler.
-~ Are you sure? he asked, wondering if any hint of his hope and despair could
colour his communicated words.
-~ Yes.
-~What about within the fabric of the hull material itself?
-~That is not relevant.
-~Have you scanned it?
-~I cannot. It is not open to my sensors.
The machine was merely clever, not sentient. It would probably not have been
able to recognise the emotions behind his words anyway, even if they had been
communicated.
-~Are you absolutely certain? Have you scanned everything?
-~I am certain. Yes. The only three personalities present within the ship s
hull in any form appreciable to my senses are: you, the personality through
which I am communicating to you, and my own.
He looked down at the sworl of floor between his feet. So there was no hope.
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I see, he thought.
Thank you.
-~You are welcome.
Gone. Gone utterly and forever. Gone in a way that was new, bereft of the
comforts of ignorance, and without appeal. Before, we believed that the soul
might be saved. Now our technology, our
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better understanding of the universe and our vanguard in the beyond, has
robbed us of our unreal hopes and replaced them with its own rules and
regulations, its own algebra of salvation and continuance. It has given us a
glimpse of heaven, and made more intense the reality of our despair when we
know that truly it exists and that those we love will never be found there.
He switched on his communicator. There was a message waiting: THEY RE HERE,
said the letters on the suit s little screen. It was timed eleven minutes
earlier. A lot more time had passed than he d have estimated.
-~Looks like our ride s arrived.
-~Yes. I ll let them know we re ready.
-~You do that, Major.
Major Quilan here, he transmitted. I understand our guests have arrived.
Major. It was the voice of mission CO, Colonel Ustremi.
Everything all right in there?
Everything is fine, sir. He looked across the glassy floor and around the
huge empty space.
Just fine.
Did you find what you were looking for, Quil?
No, sir. I did not find what I wanted.
I m sorry, Quil.
Thank you, sir. You can open the hatchway again. The machine s finished its
work. Let the techs see what else they can find by just digging.
Opening now. One of our guests wants to come and say hello.
In here? he said, watching the tiny cone in the ship s bow hinge a way.
Yes. That okay with you?
I suppose. Quil looked back at the drone, which was hovering where it had
completed its search.
Tell your machine to switch itself off first, will you?
Done.
The Navy drone settled to the floor.
Okay, send them in when they re ready.
The figure appeared in the blackness of the removed hatchway. It looked human
and yet could not be; one of them would have been no more able to survive in
the vacuum without a suit than he was.
Quilan upped the magnification on the visor, zooming in as the creature began
to walk down the slope of the hull s interior. The biped had what looked like
jet black skin and its clothing was shiny grey. It looked very thin but then
they all did. Its feet met the flat surface he was already standing on and
brought it closer. It swung its arms as it walked.
-~ They d look like prey if there was just more eating on them.
He didn t reply. The zoomed window in the visor kept the creature at the same
magnification until the distinction between the window and the rest of the
view disappeared. The thing s face was narrow and pointed, its nose thin and
sharp, and the eyes set in the night-black face were small and vividly blue
surrounded by white.
Shit. They don t look any more appetising closer up.
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