Ocean of Stars: Where the Sun Sails [1]

XIV

They were all too astonished to reply as the figure turned and led them down the hallway. After a short walk they found themselves in a vast chamber surrounded by a succession of huge stone heads. Though each was subtly different from the next, the sculptures were plainly of the same species of humanoid whose thousands of bodies littered the great city and the approaches to it. Each bust possessed its own individual, austere grandeur.

The individual who had saved them—David—turned and addressed them politely. In his calm courtesy he was exactly like Walter. Clearly they shared more than just their appearance, Aspen told herself. Despite the familiar smile and the soothing, welcoming—though slightly differently accented—voice, she remained wary. There was too much here in need of explanation. Until some of it was forthcoming, she would respond to their guide in kind: with restrained politeness.

You're being paranoid, she told herself. He saved us all. Doubtless at some risk to himself. If not for his intervention, she and the others would likely all be dead by now, torn apart in the grass by the lakeshore. Besides, he's a service synthetic. The most advanced model, like Walter. The presence of a second Walter could only improve their desperate hope of getting off this world with their lives intact.

But how did he end up here?

"May I suggest you eat, drink, and try to get some rest? We are safe in this place... reasonably safe." A broad wave of his hand took in their surroundings. "Though the analog is vague, I believe this was a kind of cathedral to them."

"How do we know that we're safe here?" Cole inquired sharply. "We have only your word for it."

David seemed not in the least offended by the implication. No more so than his twin, Walter, would have been. He treated Cole's query as a straightforward question, ignoring the edgy belligerence with which it had been delivered.

"No. You also have my presence for it."

"You're not human," the private shot back. "Maybe these things only attack full-blooded organics."

"I was attacked," Walter pointed out quietly. Cole looked over at him, suddenly abashed.

"Oh, right. I forgot. Sorry."

"No offense taken." Walter smiled. So did David. Unsettlingly, the two expressions were perfectly identical.

"Eat," David said. "Rest. Now, may I ask who is in charge here?"

Once more lost in his own waking nightmare, Oram didn't respond. The silence that ensued was notable for its awkwardness.

"May I ask who's in charge?" David said again.

The repeated query succeeded in breaking through the fog of despair that had enveloped Christopher Oram.

"Yes. I'm the captain."

Afraid that any continuing exchange was likely only to embarrass her superior, Daniels stepped forward.

"What were those things? The ones that attacked us?"

"Yeah," Rosenthal added, "and this place, this city, all these dead giants—what's the meaning of all this?"

"I do not know if I can tell you the 'meaning,'" David replied thoughtfully. "Sit, please. I'll explain as best I can."

Still on their guard but unable to resist the synthetic's persistent invitation to relax, several members of the team dropped their gear and sat. Others remained standing, but all broke out rations and liquids and began to eat and drink. Whether the danger had subsided or was merely taking a break, they knew they needed to replenish their bodies with food and fluids.