Eschaton 1 – The Other End of Time

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Patsy

There was the world turned upside down for you, Patsy thought, their arrogant little jailer now pleading hysterically for their protection. "It is not safe here," he sobbed, wringing his fussy little hands. "They go about looking for the Leaders' people and they butcher us. Also they're destroying everything in the base!"

"The Horch?" Pat asked, moved to sympathy.

"No, not the Horch themselves! What would the Horch be doing in a place like this? It is the machines they've sent, the killing ones… and I am very hungry."

Dannerman gave a quick look at Pat-how kindly did she feel to the little freak?-before he said, "I'm afraid we really don't have enough even for ourselves-"

Dopey looked astonished, then indignant. "But I cannot eat your food! No, there is plenty of good food for me in the base, but I dare not go near it-the whole area is swarming with the surrogates of the Horch. You must help me! I have thought this out carefully; what you must do is very clear. You are a very violent race. I am well informed in this respect; remember, I monitored your whole planet for some years. You can fight them, drive them out-"

"With this?" Dannerman demanded, brandishing his spear. "You took our guns away from us."

"But you can have them back," Dopey said eagerly. "I can get them for you. There are better weapons as well. Beloved Leader weapons! Very powerful! As powerful as those of the Horch surrogates, and I will show you where they are."

"If you've got weapons like that, why don't you fight them yourself?"

Dopey looked sorrowful. "The Beloved Leaders' weapons require a great deal of energy."

Dannerman laughed sharply. "And the power's out, so this is all bullshit."

"Bullshit?" Dopey looked trances for a moment, then indignant. "No, certainly what I ask of you is not 'bullshit.' There is a standby power source which is quite adequate, but I dare not activate it by myself. The Horch surrogates would be sure to detect it and then-" The creature shuddered, and added, "Also fighting is not a characteristic of my race. Those others who were fighters were of a different kind, and they are already dead. As I will be if you do not help me now."

Pat gave him a curious look. "You seem to be really scared of dying all of a sudden."

"No," Dopey said. "You have misjudged this matter. I am not afraid of dying. The death of one copy is of little importance when new copies can easily be made. But afraid of failing to carry out the tasks of the Beloved Leaders? Oh, yes, I am very much afraid of that."

"So you'd rather die than fail to carry out your task?"

"No, no! How can you misunderstand me so? To die is no excuse! Do not forget the eschaton!"

Ah, thought Patsy, her curiosity satisfied at last. The eschaton! The eternity of immortal bliss in heaven that waited for them all-assuming the Beloved Leaders were right-but less blissful by a good deal, it seemed, for anyone the Beloved Leaders found wanting in his duties to them.

If it was a fantasy, it was clearly very real to Dopey. He showed it in his look and demeanor: the plume draggled and gray, the little kitten face wrinkled in worry. Then, impatiently: "Must we stay here and argue? It is not safe here. The Horch surrogate machines may detect us at any time. You must leave the base for a place of safety and wait there; my bearer and I will secure your weapons and bring them to you. It will take some time, as we must go very cautiously and by a roundabout route, but I believe we can accomplish this, and then, once you are armed, I will lead you to the power generator-"

"Hold it," Dannerman ordered. "Go back a bit. What's this about a place of safety?"

"A place of relative safety, perhaps I should say," Dopey qualified. "Outside the bounds of the base there is a habitat area which has been prepared for you-it was to have been in a later stage of your experiment, but it is available now. I promise you you will find it quite pleasant, not unlike certain portions of your own planet. Also there are dwellings already prepared. There is clean water in a stream. There are trees and flowers-"

"I knew it!" Pat shouted triumphantly. "I saw them! And they were in the open, with real sunshine!"

Dopey squinted at her in reproof. "There is no sunshine at present," he corrected her, "as it is presently night in this portion of the planet. But you will be safe there, relatively, and I will have the bearer prepare a map to guide you."

"If it's nighttime, how will we find our way?" Rosaleen objected.

"I said it was night. I did not say it was dark," Dopey told her, glancing at the Doc. He didn't say a word, or even make a gesture that Patsy could see, but at once the golem stirred itself, pulled out a pen like Rosaleen's-hell, no, Patsy realized; it wasn't like Rosaleen's, it was Rosaleen's, a copy no doubt made as they copied anything else they chose-and swiftly began to sketch a diagram on a scrap of wrapping paper. "It is not far," Dopey reassured them. "Perhaps, ah, two kilometers. See here"-snatching the completed map from the Doc-"you go that way, past that large orange object, do you see? Then you will see the open space just ahead. Go across this meadow, here, and around this lake, here, and there will be a path. It will lead you to the encampment, and you will wait there until the bearer and I return with your weapons. Then-"

"Stop right there," Dannerman ordered. "Why should we do what you tell us?"

"Why, because that is what the Beloved Leaders would wish," Dopey said in surprise. "Also to save your own lives, since it can be only a very short time before the Horch surrogates arrive here."

"That's what you say," Dannerman said. "We have no reason to trust you. We've seen what you people do."

Dopey looked perplexed. "You have seen?

"On the helmet," Dannerman told him. "Your Beloved Leaders have blown up dozens of planets-"

Dopey looked stricken. "I did not realize the Horch had taken over that circuit," he moaned. "But the people of those planets were enemies! They refused to cooperate with the Beloved Leaders-"

"So you killed them all?" Pat asked in horror.

Dopey said earnestly, "It was not an evil act! Do you not understand? In effect, we merely transported them all, instantly, to their immortality at the eschaton."

Dannerman was staring at him. "Jesus," he said, shaking his head. Then, obstinately: "But you yourself sent copies of us back to Earth from Starlab."

Dopey recovered himself quickly. "So much argument for so little purpose, when time is passing by!" he said in indignation.

"But of course we sent copies to Earth, how else could we obtain primary-source data? The observation units we installed did the copies no harm."

That was too much for Patsy. "Then why the hell are our copies in jail?" she demanded.

"Ah," Dopey said, "yes, I see why you are concerned. But it was necessary to alter the memories of those copies, since we did not wish to prematurely reveal our presence. And then they became suspicious after they discovered the device in Dr. Artzybachova at the autopsy-"

He stopped there, suddenly aware of the way Rosaleen was staring at him. "The autopsy," she repeated, as though she had to say it out loud to make it real.

"Unfortunately, yes," he said sadly. "I am sorry to say that your copy was the first living human subject in which we implanted the device. Of course, we had experimented on the head of the corpse in Starlab. But that was in a very poor state of preservation and we were not well experienced in the procedure when we did your copy, Dr. Artzybachova. I regret it, but your copy did not survive."

By the time Dopey had left with his zombie-urging haste at every breath-all the captives had had a chance to study the map. It impressed Patsy: the Doc had sketched as quickly as it could move the pen, but the result was as carefully drawn as any Geodetic Survey chart. Who would have thought that speechless golem capable of such detail? But the important thing was that everyone agreed that they could follow it. Rosaleen, who had been very quiet, not to say subdued-well, Patsy thought, why wouldn't she be, now that her fears were confirmed?-spoke up at last. "It is all quite clear," she said, her voice colorless, her expression blank. "We should have no problem."

"If we go to this place," Dannerman said argumentatively.

Martin scowled at him. "Do we have a choice? You yourself have seen what damage these 'surrogate' things can do."

"Maybe we don't," Dannerman conceded, but his tone was reluctant.

Patsy was studying his face. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Don't you want to leave here?"

He shrugged. "Martin's right about that, we probably can't stay here. It's the part that comes after that that I don't like. The son of a bitch wants us to fight his battles for him! Christ! We don't owe him a thing. It's his fault we're here in the first place."

"But we are here," she said reasonably, "and those Horch surrogates do look as though they're killing everything they can catch. Maybe he's right. Maybe we need to fight them just to stay alive."

He grunted. "You're pretty warlike, all of a sudden."

"I don't want to die any sooner than necessary, is that so strange?" She gave him a disapproving look. "I thought you were the trained killer here. What happened?"

He shook his head. "What happened," he said, "is that I'm well enough trained to stay out of other people's fights, especially against superior forces."

Martin rumbled, "I understand your concern, Dannerman, but we can deal with what comes later later. The question is, what do we take with us when we leave? Food, of course; remember what Dopey said. He cannot eat our food, so we probably cannot eat anything we find there, either."

"How the hell are we going to carry all these things?" Jimmy Lin said, staring at the mound of food containers.

"Well, that I can answer for you," Dannerman said. "We can use the rods I brought back and the blankets from Starlab to make travoises."

Martin kicked at the rods contemptuously. "Most of those rods are too thick to fit through the blanket loops," he pointed out.

"So we use the others. Let's get on with it."

"Hey," said Patsy and Pat at once, and Patrice added, "It's not that easy. What did Dopey say, two kilometers? Rosaleen can't walk that far."

"Fine," Dannerman said. "She won't have to. We'll make a travois for her, too."

Martin said with disdain, "Using those toothpicks? The thing will come apart in ten minutes, and then you will drop the old lady on her ass. It's simpler for me to carry her."