Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [131]
“Can we do that?” asked Kim. “Can we get home on manual?”
“Oh, sure,” said Solly. “It just means we’ll have to throw all the switches ourselves. And we might chip a little paint at the dock. Otherwise it’s no problem.” Nevertheless he looked worried.
They finished dinner, somewhat at less leisure than they’d begun, and went across to the pilot’s room. Kim took some of the hot bread with her.
Solly removed a wall panel marked AUTO OFF. “Ham,” he said, “I’ll check with you periodically. Try to locate the problem and eliminate it.”
“Yes, Solly. I am endeavoring to do that.”
His fingers touched a pumpkin-colored handle and moved it forward. A row of orange lamps came on. “The pilot finally gets to earn his pay,” he told Kim.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked.
“We relax.” He gestured toward the navigation console, which was built into a desk. “If you see any red lights and I’m not here, call me.”
“If something happened, wouldn’t the Klaxons sound?”
“Maybe. If we’ve got a virus in the system, everything becomes unreliable.” He must have seen the doubt in her face. “But don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. The ship is pretty much still automated. It’ll still produce hot water, prepare the food, recharge the power cells. The only difference now is that we’re going to have to punch some buttons to make things happen.” He paused, considering their situation. “If there’s a variance between actual conditions and prescribed conditions, the ship may not notice. Which means we might have to turn up the thermostat once in a while. Piece of cake, other than the inconvenience.”
Kim took a long time to ask the question that really bothered her. “Solly,” she said, “do you think it’s possible—?” She hesitated.
“—That—?”
“—The virus came from the device!”
“No,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. “It’s a glitch in the programming, Kim.” He hesitated. “It happens.”
Kim studiously avoided bringing the subject up again. That evening they wandered down to the rec room and watched, but did not participate in, Party of Five, a light comedy in which the lead characters discover they are living next door to a group marriage with two husbands and three wives.
Party of Five did not get many laughs, and Kim spent most of her time thinking how cavernous the ship felt. Solly tried to look relaxed, but he kept laughing at the wrong parts.
Before they went to bed, he reactivated the AI, but did not return control of the systems to it. “Ham, have you been making progress with the virus?”
The windows opened out onto an ocean. In the distance, Kim could see a whale spouting.
“Ham?” said Solly. “Answer up.”
He glanced sidewise at her and tried again. The AI had always responded within seconds.
Kim got up, put her hands in her pockets, and turned away from the seascape. “It sounds as if it’s down altogether,” she said.
“Apparently.”
“Ever know it to happen before?”
“Never. But this is also the first time I’ve had to shut down an AI. Maybe it has that kind of effect.”
“Ham,” she said. “Are you there?”
They went up to the pilot’s room and Solly sat down at the console and initiated a diagnostic. “This’ll take a few minutes,” he said.
The windows opened onto the same seascape, although the whale was gone.
“When we get back,” she said suddenly, “you aren’t going to walk away from me, are you?”
“No.” Solly put an arm around her. “I love you, Kim.”
He gathered her in and they kissed.
“Kim—” he said.
“Yes—?”
“Will you marry me?”
It came without warning. “Yeah,” she said, carefully keeping her voice level. “I think I’d like to do that.”
The diagnostic chimed. It showed no problem. Everything was fine.
“That can’t be,” said Solly. “I mean, we can’t even raise the AI.”
Solly broke out the captain’s best stock that evening to celebrate their engagement. They made love to candlelight and soft music, starting in the briefing room, where the windows were full-length and provided a glorious view from the top of Mount Morghani, pausing once on the third-floor landing, and