“Why? For goodness sakes, it’s James. He and the A.I. have never failed us. They’ve always given everything for—”
“No bed of roses is entirely devoid of thorns,” Aldous said, cutting Old-timer off again. He looked up into the beautiful night sky, and his eyes latched onto the object that hung in the blackness like a white elephant, the giant armada of androids. They’d obeyed James’s demand to leave the solar system, but they parked themselves on the boundary. The collective was so huge that it was visible as a tiny smudge in the night sky, appearing like a nearby galaxy. Aldous gestured to the spot with his hand. “Or do you need a reminder?”
Old-timer looked up at the luminescent smear in the cosmos and grimaced. It was true; things were not all roses. He and Aldous were standing on the flat-deck of his roof, on a beautiful, open plain that stretched to the horizon in all directions. He should’ve felt safe there, distanced from problems that were on a galactic scale—problems that seemed to be the domain of the new gods, James, and the A.I. and the impending, almost infinite intelligence of Trans-human. Yet there they were, standing with that night sky above them, as though all of space sat precariously atop their shoulders, weighing them down, threatening to crush them. “James and the A.I. can handle the androids,” Old-timer finally answered.
“A fact the androids know well, Craig,” Aldous agreed. “Still, they remain there, unwilling to leave...and I think I know why.” He let his eyes drop from the celestial smudge to fall back on Old-timer. “I think they’re afraid we could be on the verge of destroying our universe.”
Old-timer couldn’t help but let loose a long, low whistle. “Okay, now that is ludicrous.”
“I only wish it were,” Aldous replied after a short, frustrated sigh, “but when James and the A.I. insert the new matrix consciousness into Trans-human...well, there’s no way a being like that will fail to uncover the nature of the multiverse and Planck technology. When that happens—and it will—the stability we’ve enjoyed for more than seventy-five years will be utterly obliterated.”
“Aldous, with all due respect, you’re starting to sound like a Pur—”
“Don’t say it!” Aldous suddenly yelled out, his eyes wild as he held his hand up to stop Old-timer’s words. Old-timer stopped, stunned. Aldous’s desperate expression softened when he realized how loud he’d been. His eyes fell as he considered Daniella, who was still sleeping. “I hope I didn’t wake…”
“What’s gotten into you?” Old-timer asked in an admonishing whisper. “I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”
“I hate them, Craig. I can’t help it. Comparing me to a Purist? I can’t bear the thought. They killed her, Craig.”
Old-timer closed his eyes. This was what he feared every time he was in Aldous’s proximity—that she would come up—and he’d have to experience the pain again. “I know, Aldous, but the people involved in that are dead and buried. It’s time to let—”
“Did I ever tell you I saw it happen?”
Old-timer’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t speak.
Aldous nodded, his eyes seeming to look back in time, deep into the memory. “Colonel Paine—he did it while I was watching—did it because I was watching, in fact.” He shut his eyes tight, and his jaw became clenched. “She wouldn’t give you up, Craig. She was willing to die to protect you and the A.I.—she never said a word to him about the Planck platform. It was me that told him where you were, me that put your life in danger, all so that I could save Sam…” Aldous’s expression twisted into rage as the searing hot fire of the memory returned, still not dulled even after three-quarters of a century. “And then that bastard killed her anyway. Cut her head off, Craig.” He closed his eyes before he repeated in a mournful whisper, “Cut her head off.”
Old-timer’s hand went slowly up to his mouth. He was speechless.
“I know they’re all dead and buried—Colonel Paine is dead by my hand—I had my revenge. But it doesn’t matter. No matter how much I tell myself that the Purists are different now, I still can’t let go of the hate. I’m trying to, my friend but—”
“I understand,” Old-timer replied. “Now just a little bit more than before. And I have to admit to harboring some of the same feelings, but Aldous, you can’t let that memory control you. Memories can destroy you if you let them.”