cable and substitute its own signal, which will fool the computers that control the missiles into thinking every¬thing is fine. After that, we can kill the power to Trinity without worrying about retaliation.'
Geli said nothing.
'Will you do it?'
'Why should I?'
An ironic smile curled the general's lips. 'If I'd asked you not to kill them, you'd have said you were going to zap them in the next five minutes.'
'You think so?'
'I think you hate me so much that you'll do the opposite of anything I tell you to. And that's all right. Hate is a useful emotion.'
Geli had learned that lesson the hard way. 'Do you know why I hate you?'
'Of course. You blame me for your mother's sui¬cide.'
For him to refer to it casually, as though to some unim¬portant event, offended the deepest part of her being.
He took a step closer. 'You think my women and my drinking finally pushed her over the edge. But you're wrong. I loved your mother. That's what you never understood.'
''Each man kills the thing he loves,'' Geli quoted. 'Remember that one? 'A coward does it with a kiss, a brave man with a sword.' You're a coward where it counts.'
The general shook his head. 'I've been protecting you for a long time. But it's time you knew the truth.'
She wanted to scream at him to shut up, but she couldn't find the words. No man could physically attack her without paying a heavy price, but she had no defenses against her father's psychological violence.
'Your mother killed herself because you enlisted in the army. Even after all that had happened in the past, you decided to follow in my footsteps. That's what did it. That's what finally put her in the ground.'
Nausea made Geli waver on her feet, but she steadied herself and held her father's merciless gaze.
'I would have told you about it before,' the general went on, 'but… we both know what happened.'
Geli's hands shook with rage. The scar on her cheek seemed to burn, yet still she could not find words.
'You hate me,' said General Bauer. 'But you're exactly like me.'
'No,' she whispered.
'Yes. And you know what has to be done.'
CONTAINMENT BUILDING
Rachel came out of paralysis at 6:50 A.M. I handed her a liter bottle of water, and she drank most of it in a few gulps. Ten minutes later, Zach Levin announced that her neuromodel had been successfully compressed and stored.
The human work was done.
Rachel, Levin, Ravi Nara, and I walked around the huge magnetic shield that protected Trinity from the MRI machine and stood before the sphere. I thought Trinity might say something profound, but its words were purely technical.
'I've linked with the Godin Four in the basement, and I've begun a comparative study of the data in each neuromodel. Much of it is redundant, especially that which represents life support functions. I shall discard most of this during the merging process.'
Levin said, 'Do you feel confident that this subtractive operation can be done without negative effects?'
'Yes. It should also reduce or even prevent the period of adaptive shock that followed the loading of neuromodels in the past. This subtractive process is a necessity in any case. My crystal matrix can hold a virtually limit¬less amount of symbolic memory, but my total neuroconnections fall far short of the number required to hold two uncompressed models. A great deal of culling will have to be done, and not merely of life support func¬tions. When I begin to merge the higher brain functions, it will be a matter of art as much as science. '
'How long do you expect the process to take?' Levin asked.
'There is no precedent. '
'Very well. Thank you.'
The lasers inside the carbon fiber sphere began to fire into the central crystal with hypnotic speed. On the plasma screen below Trinity, numbers and mathematical symbols scrolled past at a rate beyond human compre¬hension, reflecting the machine's internal operations in language created by man but which now served no use¬ful function.
We stood mute, as though watching a meteor shower or the birth of a child. As the process accelerated, I was thrown back to my boyhood, when I'd sat before the tele¬vision with my father and watched in wonder as Apollo 11 landed in the Sea of Tranquillity. Yet what we were witnessing now was incalculably more complex than the Apollo moon shot. Godin's team had already accom¬plished a miracle: the liberation of the mind from the body. But the Trinity computer was attempting to unify what nature-in the interests of survival-had sundered long before the evolution of Homo sapiens. The male and female minds, divided by biochemistry and by millions of years of environmental pressures, would now become one. When that was done, the most powerful force on the planet would no longer exist in a sundered state, eternally longing for its opposite. Perhaps in this state of wholeness, the new Trinity could bring hope to a species that seemed incapable of saving itself from its own worst instincts.
Levin went to the basement and returned with chairs for us. Rachel and I held hands, our eyes on the flashing blue lasers. As the firing rate accelerated, slowed, then accelerated again, I had the sense of watching someone working on a jigsaw puzzle: picking up pieces, examin¬ing them, discarding some, placing others in their correct positions. I had no idea how much time had passed when the radiant light within the sphere finally dimmed, and the voice of Trinity filled the room.
'My circuits are approaching the saturation level. The merging model has assumed responsibility for the security of the system. From this point forward it will also manage the final steps of the merging process. I've created a map for it to follow.'
As if by tacit agreement, we all stood.
'I accomplished many things in my life,' said the voice, and I knew then that the mind of Peter Godin was still alive in the machine. 'I also did morally question¬able things. I would like to be remembered for what I do now. Today I voluntarily give up my life, and absolute power, so that something purer than myself can enter the world. Perhaps by so doing I truly approach the divine for the first time. Good-bye.'
'It's happening,' Ravi said, his voice surprisingly rev¬erent. 'The impossible is happening in front of us. Duality becoming unity… yin and yang one.'
I had never asked Nara about his religion; I'd always assumed he was Hindu. I was about to question him when a buzzer sounded in the room.
'What's that?' I asked.
'The door,' said Levin. He touched a button, and an exterior view of the Containment building appeared on a small wall monitor. There was no one at the door.
'Weird,' he said. The tall engineer walked around the magnetic barrier, headed for the door.
'Don't open it,' said Rachel.
I walked far enough toward the wall to see around the magnetic shield. As Levin reached for the door han¬dle, a flat crack echoed through the building. Levin's hands flew to his ears, and the steel security door creaked outward on its hinges.
A black silhouette appeared in the smoky doorway and flung out an arm with stunning speed. Levin fell to the floor.
'What is happening?' the computer asked in the identical voice Godin's neuromodel had used.
Ravi Nara scrambled behind the black sphere of Trinity. I grabbed Rachel and raced for a door near the back wall. It didn't lead outside, but through the mag¬netic barrier to the control station in the MRI room. As I followed her through it, I glanced back and saw a flash of blonde hair above black body armor.
'Geli,' I said, locking the door behind me and pushing Rachel through the control station. 'Go to the basement!'
A short stairwell behind the control station led to the basement containing the Godin Four supercomputer. I hadn't been down myself, but I knew Levin's technicians were there, probably with the automatic weapons they'd
