The Omega Expedition - Brian Stableford [95]
“It’s really not as simple as that,” she said, shaking her head ruefully. She hadn’t given me the slightest indication that I’d scored any hits along the way. “I certainly can’t blame you for trying to figure it all out, Mr. Tamlin, but I can’t help you while our own negotiations are still ongoing — the situation is difficult and the information is extremely sensitive. The present situation’s not of our choosing, but we have to deal with it as best we can. If we get safely to where we’re hoping to go, you’ll have to be told what’s going on, but nothing’s settled yet and there are factions involved in the discussion who still want everything kept quiet. I shouldn’t be talking to you at all, but we don’t want anyone dying on us if we can help it. Please tell your companions to remain calm, and patient.”
My offer to act as an agent provocateur appeared to have fallen on deaf ears, at least for the time being. I wondered whether there might be an opportunity for me to get a little way ahead of Lowenthal and Horne in the new game, if I played my cards right — but I knew I’d have to prove my usefulness before our captors would even consider letting me in.
“What’s your name?” I asked her, abruptly.
“Alice,” she said. She hadn’t hesitated — but she didn’t add a surname.
“And you’re just a foot soldier, like Lowenthal?”
“I’m not a soldier at all,” she said, coldly. “I’m doing everything I can to ensure that it doesn’t come to soldiering — because if it does, we might all be doomed. Maybe the evil day can only be postponed, but even if that’s the case, we still have to gain what time we can. We need it.” I got the impression that this speech wasn’t just addressed to me. Others were listening in — and she had already told me that the present situation wasn’t one she’d engineered, or even anticipated.
“Who’s we, exactly?” I asked.
“All of us,” she said. “We all need time.” For just an instant, she seemed to be about to add something else, but she thought better of it. I couldn’t tell whether or not she’d intended me to see the hesitation, or what conclusion she’d intended me to draw. I knew that “all of us” might only mean everybody locked in the interior of this mysterious and seemingly ancient artifact, or some larger but limited population, or even all the various posthumankinds.
“According to the history I’ve read, there hasn’t been a single war during the thousand years I’ve been away,” I told her. “Mortimer Gray seems to think that such childish things have been put away for good, now that everybody has a proper respect for the value of human life — because true emortals don’t take risks of that crazy kind.”
“Gray’s wrong,” Alice said, flatly. It sounded as if she had strong views of her own on that particular topic. “The Earthbound might have stood still for a long time, but they haven’t changed. Perhaps they can’t — not any more.” Now she felt that she had said too much, although she hadn’t really said anything at all. She became suddenly impatient. “You’d better go back now,” she said.
“How old are you?” I asked, refusing to budge. I’d snatched the question out of midair, spurred on by desperation to get something more, however slight. The only thing she’d so far shown any willingness to talk about was herself.
She hesitated, and this time she was definitely seized by a genuine uncertainty. She couldn’t quite bring a lie to bear in time to stop the truth tripping off the tip of her tongue.
“Older than you,” she said.
It wasn’t an answer