nodded curtly in agreement. “Mr. Reborn-in-Jesus, you will please arrange for all your children who have caught sight of this creature to report here for questioning. It is my belief that we have here a life form which is intelligent, dangerous, and possibly technologically competent.”
“And which draws the line at killing children,” said Mr. Reborn-in-Jesus.
“Colleagues, I believe,” said Adeti, “that we may have encountered an abandoned Made war machine.”
Despite the cramped quarters, the temperature in the room appeared to drop. Adeti was aware that this was only blood draining from extremities to hearts to prepare for either fighting or flying, but the illusion was there.
“We should run,” said Planetometrist Wong. “We are not a military ship.”
“We should not jump to conclusions,” said Gravitographer Shankar. “This might be humanity’s first contact with an intelligent species we did not make ourselves.”
“Or an abandoned Made war machine,” repeated Asahara.
“And it’s already indicated it’s prepared to kill,” reminded Wong.
“Mr. Reborn-in-Jesus—will you ask your children to report here?” said Adeti.
Reborn-in-Jesus shrugged. “They will report here for questioning ,” he said. “I urge you not to attempt to harm them. I don’t think the Devil would permit it.”
“Mr. Wong, you will arrange for transportation. And while you’re about it, get that fly shooed outside the lock. I’m not running a dirty ship.”
Wong nodded and remained seated, but at a further glare from Adeti, rose and began to chase the fly round the compartment, clapping his hands together to confuse it.
“I have decided,” said Adeti, “to contact our neutronium harvester Sisyphus , which will be in comms range in twelve hours’ time, to facilitate the compulsory purchase and exploitation of Planetesimal 23 Kranii 3X. This will of course involve core extraction and subsequent loss of gravity and atmosphere. However, there are usually berths available on board harvester vessels with a minimum of sharing, and jobs can be found for yourselves and your family until the ship next docks at a habitable planet—”
“You will all be dead inside eleven hours,” said Reborn-in-Jesus. “This is not a threat, merely a confident prediction. But I will send the children. They will tell you all they know, and who knows? Their presence may protect you.”
He nodded curtly, and walked out of the ship.
*
Apostle Reborn-in-Jesus was a pale, thin boy who Doctor Ambrose had diagnosed as suffering from a variety of immune deficiency disorders. He looked round the Bridge’s interior nervously. He had evidently never seen the inside of a starship, and had refused to enter unless the wall screen was turned on to show his brothers, sister, and cousins playing a complicated game, which Adeti believed was called ‘Devil Take the Spaceman’, in the cemetery outside.
“Apostle, do you know what the Made are?” Asahara had been given the task of questioning the children by Adeti. Adeti had implied that this was due to the fact that the children would be more likely to trust a friendly mother figure. Asahara suspected that Adeti actually hoped the Social Correctness Officer’s title would terrify the infants.
Apostle nodded. “Abominations against God. Intelligent creatures made by man, not God.”
Thank heaven for organized religion. Adeti smiled at Asahara, who said:
“What form do you think the Made take?”
The child thought a moment. “Machines,” he said. “Many forms of machines. And people.”
Asahara nodded. “People who were not made by Mommies and Daddies.”
The boy nodded back. “Artificially gestated, genetically-modified clones, yes.”
“Is that what the Devil looks like?”
The boy’s eyes dropped to the floor, and his voice grew small. “I only ever saw the Devil once.”
“What did it look like?”
“Like a man, but moving so quick it
“And which draws the line at killing children,” said Mr. Reborn-in-Jesus.
“Colleagues, I believe,” said Adeti, “that we may have encountered an abandoned Made war machine.”
Despite the cramped quarters, the temperature in the room appeared to drop. Adeti was aware that this was only blood draining from extremities to hearts to prepare for either fighting or flying, but the illusion was there.
“We should run,” said Planetometrist Wong. “We are not a military ship.”
“We should not jump to conclusions,” said Gravitographer Shankar. “This might be humanity’s first contact with an intelligent species we did not make ourselves.”
“Or an abandoned Made war machine,” repeated Asahara.
“And it’s already indicated it’s prepared to kill,” reminded Wong.
“Mr. Reborn-in-Jesus—will you ask your children to report here?” said Adeti.
Reborn-in-Jesus shrugged. “They will report here for questioning ,” he said. “I urge you not to attempt to harm them. I don’t think the Devil would permit it.”
“Mr. Wong, you will arrange for transportation. And while you’re about it, get that fly shooed outside the lock. I’m not running a dirty ship.”
Wong nodded and remained seated, but at a further glare from Adeti, rose and began to chase the fly round the compartment, clapping his hands together to confuse it.
“I have decided,” said Adeti, “to contact our neutronium harvester Sisyphus , which will be in comms range in twelve hours’ time, to facilitate the compulsory purchase and exploitation of Planetesimal 23 Kranii 3X. This will of course involve core extraction and subsequent loss of gravity and atmosphere. However, there are usually berths available on board harvester vessels with a minimum of sharing, and jobs can be found for yourselves and your family until the ship next docks at a habitable planet—”
“You will all be dead inside eleven hours,” said Reborn-in-Jesus. “This is not a threat, merely a confident prediction. But I will send the children. They will tell you all they know, and who knows? Their presence may protect you.”
He nodded curtly, and walked out of the ship.
*
Apostle Reborn-in-Jesus was a pale, thin boy who Doctor Ambrose had diagnosed as suffering from a variety of immune deficiency disorders. He looked round the Bridge’s interior nervously. He had evidently never seen the inside of a starship, and had refused to enter unless the wall screen was turned on to show his brothers, sister, and cousins playing a complicated game, which Adeti believed was called ‘Devil Take the Spaceman’, in the cemetery outside.
“Apostle, do you know what the Made are?” Asahara had been given the task of questioning the children by Adeti. Adeti had implied that this was due to the fact that the children would be more likely to trust a friendly mother figure. Asahara suspected that Adeti actually hoped the Social Correctness Officer’s title would terrify the infants.
Apostle nodded. “Abominations against God. Intelligent creatures made by man, not God.”
Thank heaven for organized religion. Adeti smiled at Asahara, who said:
“What form do you think the Made take?”
The child thought a moment. “Machines,” he said. “Many forms of machines. And people.”
Asahara nodded. “People who were not made by Mommies and Daddies.”
The boy nodded back. “Artificially gestated, genetically-modified clones, yes.”
“Is that what the Devil looks like?”
The boy’s eyes dropped to the floor, and his voice grew small. “I only ever saw the Devil once.”
“What did it look like?”
“Like a man, but moving so quick it
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