Traveler in the Dark

49

"I'm sorry, Issk'ath," said Rebecca. She scrubbed at the soot on its chassis with the towel. "What Alice did— was nothing like what you did."

"Why do you iterate? You did not perform Alice's actions. You did not agree with her conclusions."

"But I am friends with her."

"Friendship should never be a matter for iteration. And I disagree. What I did was akin to what she has done. We had different motivations. I did it to save my people. She is doing it to save something other than her people. But the end result is similar. The casings are broken."

Rebecca pulled gently on its wings and they clicked open for her. She rubbed the towel over the shimmering net of lights. "But your people's minds are intact. You've kept them. Alice did not. My colleagues are gone."

Issk'ath's body whirred and the wings slid closed as it compressed. It stared at her and it chirped. "Is that why you mourn, Emery? Because you believe when the data disperses it is gone?"

"Isn't that why you keep them? So that it doesn't— evaporate?"

"Evaporate. That is a fitting statement. Yes, the data evaporates. It transmutes into another form. It is not uncreated. When the casing dies, it is like bursting an earthen water jug. The water runs away, sinks, evaporates. This is what happens with the data. But it is not gone. It's just no longer gathered the way that it was. The data, like the water, will someday return. In another jug, with other droplets. It will be rediscovered in the future. I keep my people because it is more efficient than chasing after those droplets of data. It is better than waiting for the rain. Like them, this metal is only another jug. Just a bigger one. And someday, this casing too, will shatter and the other Guardians as well, and all our data will evaporate. But I will still be Issk'ath. Just as you will still be Emery. And your colleagues are still themselves. Maybe, when next we are gathered, it will be in the same casing. And I would find that optimal."

Rebecca shook her head. "But what she did was wrong—"

"I am still not confident in my understanding of how you judge right and wrong, but what she did was wasteful. She believes it necessary, but your colleague, Martham, has proved it is not. To me, if not to your friend. It has caused suffering but yielded no result. It is not optimal. Perhaps she will iterate. But that is her task. It is not yours. Your actions have been entirely different. It is clear that your colleagues have distrusted me. They have not enjoyed my presence. You must have known this."

"Yes," she said, unsnapping her thermal boot.

"And yet you offered me a place with you. On your ship. In your home. When I expressed a desire to leave the planet, to obtain more data, you were very generous, even after the others had become frightened. You persuaded them over their own misgivings."

"It had little to do with me. They convinced themselves you would have crashed the Wolfinger if we did not follow your wishes."

"Then your trust and friendship mean even more. You could have convinced me to release my hold on the tether or the ship outside. You could have used my departure to bargain for reentry into the ship. But you did not. And again, you might have left me outside when you found a way in. Or trapped in the wall. The radiation levels would have corrupted my systems in a very short time. But you aided me again. You are not like Oxwell and I would mourn the dispersement of your data. Having access to it has been most intriguing. I would— miss you."

Rebecca smiled. "I like you too," she said.

"Emery are you there?" Liu's voice was rapid and uneven.

"I'm here. What's wrong?"

"Get your suit back on."

"But it's still recharging—"