Capacity by Tony Ballantyne Read Free Book Online Page B

there was no way of really telling how far they traveled as they wandered the surface of this planet. Was the cube that was by your left foot the same one that had been by your right foot when you looked down a moment earlier, or was it another one entirely? The question had seemed fascinating three weeks ago when he had first come here—but no longer. It was amazing how quickly the cubes had become commonplace.
    Justinian shook his head. “No, the Schrödinger boxes only exist here on Gateway.”
    “I wonder what they are,” the pod said in a soft voice.
    “I’m sure we’ll find out,” Justinian replied, rubbing his hands together briskly. “Well, that’s just about everything. I’d like to thank you for your help.”
    There were three more questions left on the list. Justinian didn’t even need to check his console to see what they were; he knew them by heart.
Do you want to come with me or stay here?
It would choose to stay. For a terraform pod, the place they were located would always seem like home.
Have you been in contact with any other of the AIs since the suicide, and do you want to be put in contact with them if not?
It would answer no to both questions.
Can you remember anything else from before the suicide?
It would say no to that.
    And then Justinian could get back on the flier. He wobbled his hand in a drink gesture over towards Leslie. Naturally, the robot didn’t see it; it was already walking back into the ship. Justinian yawned again. Time to wrap things up.
    “Now,” he said in a businesslike fashion. “I can take you back with me, or would you rather stay here?”
    “I’ll stay here, thank you.”
    “Fine. Have you been in contact with any of the other AIs since the suicide?”
    “No.”
    “Would you like to be put in contact with them?”
    “No. What would I have to say to them?”
    “No problem. If you change your mind, let us know. I’m leaving a pulse transmitter here just in case.” He threw the heavy yellow egg shape down into the mud by the base of the pod. “Finally, can you remember anything else significant from before the suicide?”
    “Not exactly.”
    “Okay, then. Well, I’ll be getting back to the flier. Remember, if you ever want to speak to us, just use the pulse trans…”
    Justinian’s words trailed away. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, hear a pounding in his ears. What had the pod just said? Every other pod had answered no…
    As he stared at the pod, silver light shone all around, reflecting from the water. White grass seed rolled in the red mud.
    The pod spoke haltingly. “Listen, before you go, maybe you should know…”
    It paused. It seemed unsure if it was doing the right thing.
    “What is it?” Justinian asked, hardly daring to breathe. This had never happened before. The blurred shape of Leslie appeared on the ramp. It was looking over in the pod’s direction. Listening.
    “Well, I don’t know if this is important,” said the pod hesitantly, “but…there are some irregularities in the setup of this pod that may be of interest to you.”
    “Irregularities?” Justinian licked his lips. “What irregularities?”
    The pod hesitated again. “I’m not sure that I should tell you.”
    Justinian licked his lips again. “Why not?” The pounding in his ears was increasing. The first clue since he had arrived on this planet, and it was threatening to slip from his grasp. “Why can’t you tell me?”
    “Think about it logically, Justinian. If my former self had wanted me to know why it reduced itself so drastically, it surely would have told me. It didn’t, and so we must assume there is a reason for that. And don’t you think we ought to trust an intelligence far greater than our own?”
    “I don’t know. Should we?”
    Justinian felt as if he was at the top of a huge building, tiptoeing along the ledge, looking down at the street far below. He could feel the drop, sucking him over.
Watcher, don’t let me fall,
he