And then a warm feeling came over him as he remembered his dream. Anya had woken up and spoken to him. She had heard the baby crying through his, Justinian’s, sleep. What had she said?
“
Justinian smiled. Jesse. It was an odd name, but he liked it. Jesse.
He held his son at arms’ length and smiled. “Jesse,” he said. “Do you like that name? Jesse?”
Jesse wriggled again, eager to be off to the crack in the rocks and the secondary infection.
“Okay,” Justinian said, “Okay, Jesse, we’re going. Now is there anything else we can take with us?”
He took a last look up the ramp, into the cabin of the flier. Strange how he could already be nostalgic about surroundings that he had hated so much during the time he had spent there.
“Right, Jesse,” he said, “let’s go.”
They were in no hurry.
Justinian held Jesse’s hand as they walked the external length of the flier, the white hull of the ship smooth above them. As they came to a gentle slope of scree, Justinian carefully picked his way up to the dark crack in the rock ahead, his son now cradled in his arms. Swirling blue-green patterns danced at the edge of his vision.
They paused at the entrance to the cave, and Justinian took a last look back at the friendly white shape of the flier.
“Okay,” he said, and he turned away from the daylight and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could make out the beginning of a tunnel, sloping downwards into the earth. Something was moving within its midnight throat, black figures dancing.
Jesse giggled. “Hallur ellur ellur…” he said, pointing deep into the darkness.
“You understand, don’t you?” Justinian said. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“Hallur ellur elluble!” said the baby urgently.
Justinian took a step forward and the darkness seemed to pull away from him. Black shapes formed in his vision: black floor, black walls, black ceiling. He could see into the darkness, all in shades of black. The baby giggled again.
“I don’t think we’re really
But it still looked real: a mapping of the inside of the cave picked out in darkness. A smooth floor sloping downwards, following a winding fissure in the rock, black stalactites hanging silently above.
Tantalizing shapes danced at the limit of his vision, beckoning him on. Jesse struggled in his arms, urging him forward.
Justinian followed the path downwards and the daylight faded to nothing. Turning, he saw the entrance to the cave had gone. He felt claustrophobic, adrift in a dark tunnel, his eyes seeing without light.
The last AI pod must have traveled this way, he realized. After Pod 16 had sealed itself in the Bottle, it must have come down here to look at the Schrödinger boxes. The occasional broken stalagmite or chipped corner showed where it had passed. What had it called into being down here?
Jesse was still speaking in Jargon, the official language of children about to make the leap into proper speech. Whatever was ahead was connecting with his son, Justinian realized. Connecting to him on an absolutely basic level, somewhere at the place where language began. The idea filled Justinian with such fear that he immediately turned to retreat from the cave. He would have walked out, too, but peering back up the tunnel he could see nothing. The pictures that ran across his retina only worked when he faced forward. His last semblance of free will had been taken from him. The only way he could go was down. Realization dawned. That was why he was here. That was why he had been dragged across the universe to this lonely planet far from home. Dragged along so that his son could speak to whatever lay down here.
Jesse was wriggling uncomfortably in his arms. In his fear Justinian was clutching him too tightly. He relaxed his grip a little and continued walking, brushing tears from his own cheeks as he went. It wasn’t Justinian they really wanted, it was his child!
They had all been in on it. Leslie, the pods, the EA-even the Watcher!
What if the Watcher had openly asked him to sacrifice a son? Justinian was no Abraham; he would have refused. The EA must have known that. Any father would have done the same. How could it be otherwise, in a world where Social Care vetted potential parents so carefully? No one was allowed to have a child unless it was judged that he or she would take proper care of it.
So how could the pods arrange for a child to come to Gateway? They had tricked Justinian, made him believe it was himself they wanted here.
As Jesse spoke again, Justinian caught the urgency in the child’s voice. Jesse knew what was going on here. He was telling his father.
Justinian hugged his son close and kissed his head softly. He felt his own tears on his son’s downy hair.
“Oh, Jesse, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Oblivious to his anguish, Jesse wrestled in his grasp and again pointed down the tunnel, jerking up and down like a rider urging a horse onwards. Justinian let him go, let him slide to the ground. He took his son’s hand and they walked together towards the Source.
How many planets lay throughout the galaxy, how many cave systems lay beneath their surfaces? How many dark places were there lurking throughout the universe, their existence never validated by the liberating gaze of intelligence?
And if, someday, they were gazed upon, what could be called into existence by the very act of observation?
Down and down and down.
And then Justinian heard the
The passage began to widen and Justinian felt a little warmth ahead. He had the impression of an enormous space lying before him, just out of sight. He smelled old cabbage and roses.
And then he stepped from the tunnel into a huge open space, an enormous bubble of air rising at geological speed through the stone. He could make out a shape in the distance, and he instantly knew what he was looking at: the final AI pod. He felt a wave of relief. It was a familiar, friendly sight in this strange dream world. And yet this pod had grown considerably larger than the others. From here, illuminated in grey dream-light, it resembled a human sitting at the edge of a sudden precipice. Long black vines gripped the edge of the drop, extending from something growing down there in the pit of the cavern. Something big and alien. Justinian felt sick at the thought of what lay beyond the lip of the precipice, and yet at the same time he was fascinated.
Jesse was burbling again. Heart pounding, Justinian pressed on, the greyness intensifying.
As he approached, he became aware that this final AI pod was very much bigger than even first impressions suggested; it had grown to a height of around fifteen meters, a bulbous dome held up by an irregular tripod. Justinian recognized the shape of VNM factories around its base and realized that this pod was well advanced in its growth, almost complete. And yet, like all the others, it too had stopped. Why? Jesse tugged at his hand, staring in fascination at the black vines clustering around the edge of the precipice. They seemed to ripple without moving; rather, they seemed always to have just finished moving when Justinian’s gaze alighted upon them. What lay over the edge of the lip? What did the plant from which they had grown look like? Justinian craned his head to see. He was getting closer now…
“Do not look over the edge.”
The voice came from the AI pod. Justinian ignored it, continued to edge forward, determined to see what was down there. Jesse tugged at his hand. He obviously felt the same urge; he wanted to move forward.
The pod spoke again: “There is a laser trained upon you. Despite the fact I have had you brought here beyond your galaxy, I will kill you if you take one step closer. Believe me, this is not a bluff.”
“I believe you,” Justinian said, stopping. Of course he did. An AI knew how to sound sincere. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help himself craning to see over the lip of the fault. He was sure there was something moving down there.
“Do not try to look past me. The laser is still trained upon you.”
