Deadman Switch

"Thank you," he said. "Some visitors have thought it a bit extravagant for people who are supposed to be seeking God and not their own material comfort. But it's been my experience that attractive surroundings usually improve one's meditative abilities instead of detracting from them."

I frowned, and took another look at the group of adults in the park. Sure enough, they weren't talking together, as I'd first assumed. We were close enough now that I could see their closed eyes, the odd combiration of concentration and relaxation on their faces. "Scenery is all good and well," I commented, gesturing toward them, "but wouldn't they do better to choose a quieter place?"

"Probably," Adams agreed easily. "And we certainly don't start begi

Beside me, Calandra stirred. "You mean the way the Watchers have?"

Adams shrugged, his sense becoming a bit uncomfortable. "It's not my place to judge anyone else," he said evasively. "The Watchers were dealt a terrible blow by the actions of Aaron Balaam darMaupine, and if you must withdraw into yourselves for a time, I can understand that. But if we're truly to be the light of humanity, none of us can hide like that indefinitely." He gestured again to the surrounding landscape. "Our goal is to become so attuned to God's presence here that we'll be able to go anywhere in the Patri and colonies and still feel His touch. No matter the distance, no matter the distractions."

I nodded. "Hence the meditation in the park, amidst the universe's best shot yet at perpetual motion machines?"

Adams smiled, a crinkling of his face. "Aggravating though they may be at times, children are still one of our most prized treasures. The Watchers proved that the art of observation is best begun in childhood; we hope that will prove true for the art of meditation, as well."

Adams's house was situated near the center of the settlement: an unpretentious structure, indistinguishable at least externally from the others surrounding it. I wasn't especially surprised; the sense of the man was clearly not that of someone in the job for the wealth or the prestige.

He parked the car under a two-sided overhang, and we went inside... and got down to serious business.

—

Carefully, Adams poured himself a cup of tea, his third since we'd begun our story. He offered us refills, was turned down, and set the pot back to the side. "I'm sure you realize," he said, gazing into the swirling liquid in his cup, "the awkward position you put me in."

"Yes, sir," I acknowledged, "and we're sincerely sorry about that. But we really had no one else to turn to."

He raised his eyes to me. "Your very presence here threatens our existence," he said bluntly. "Harboring fugitives is a serious offense—serious enough that the Solitaran authorities could easily use it as an excuse to disband our fellowships and ban us from Spall entirely."

The sense of him was not nearly as strong as the words... "Except that they won't," Calandra spoke up before I could. "You're a religious group, which makes you an embarrassment to them, and the last thing they want is to have you around where visitors to Solitaire might stumble over you. Where could they possibly send you where you'd be less visible than you are now?"

She had, I noted, echoed precisely Adams's own private thoughts. "Perhaps," he admitted grudgingly. "And if it was just you involved I would probably agree. But now you seek to prove that there are smugglers hiding among us; and that the authorities won't be so willing to ignore."

Again, I could sense a private argument about that going on in his thoughts. I probed, trying to pick out a part of that I could use...

And again, Calandra beat me to it. "And yet, if you prove yourselves cooperative in rooting out these smugglers, won't that clearly weigh in your favor?" she pointed out.

"Besides," I added, "we certainly don't expect to find smugglers hiding out in your actual settlements, masquerading as Hallo—as members of your fellowships. The fact that you may be sharing a planet with them can hardly be considered collusion."

"True," he sighed.

For a long minute he continued to gaze into his cup... and abruptly I realized his sense had changed—changed so subtly I hadn't noticed it happen. Somehow, even as he sat before us, it was as if he no longer was aware of our presence. As if his attention had wandered—

Or wasn't there at all.

I looked at Calandra, tilted my head fractionally toward Adams. She nodded, her own sense growing oddly troubled as she studied him.

I know a man who fourteen years ago was caught up right into the third heaven...

It was a scripture that had always intrigued me as a child... but now, faced with something that might very well be similar, I found myself sharing some of Calandra's uneasiness. It seemed impossible... but could Adams and his group truly have discovered holy ground here?

"Sorry," Adams said suddenly. I jumped; again I'd missed whatever transition there might have been. "I was trying to see if God would provide me an answer."

I could still sense a great deal of indecision in him. "And...?" I prompted.

He shrugged. "Nothing that I can take as guidance. Touching the cloak of His mind is one thing; truly understanding what He is saying is something considerably harder." He took a deep breath, and I felt some residual tension slowly leave him. Apparently this form of meditation wasn't exactly easy on its practitioners. "He seems, as usual, to be leaving this decision up to me," Adams continued. "So tell me: just exactly what is it you want from us?"

I took a deep breath of my own. "On the way here we spent some time studying the ship's maps of Spall, and we've picked out one area that we'd like to concentrate on."

"How big an area?"

"A few hundred square kilometers." I read the look on his face and shrugged. "I know: a drop in an ocean. But we're only two people, and we haven't got much time."

"Yes, I understand. It's just that—never mind. Please go on."

"The target area is about two hundred sixty kilometers southeast of here, about eighty kilometers from your Myrrh settlement—that is one of yours, isn't it?"

He nodded. "So what you need is transportation to Myrrh; and while there you'll need a vehicle, power for it, and lodging."

"Yes, sir," I said. "I realize that's a lot to ask."

He waved a hand. "Physical goods aren't that much of a problem. Would you want a guide, or assistance in the search?"

"No," Calandra spoke up firmly before I could answer. "We'd rather do it ourselves."

I frowned at her. "Calandra—"

She turned intense eyes on me. "We're getting these people involved too much as it is, Gilead. We do it alone, or not at all."

It wasn't a point I could really argue with. "All right," I agreed, turning back to Adams. "I guess the physical goods will be all we need, then."

He nodded slowly. "Those I think we can provide. There's still one more thing you'll need, though: time. How much?"

How much time to search a world? "We'll take as much as you feel comfortable giving us," I said honestly. "If you were able to plead ignorance as to who we were—" I shrugged helplessly. "But of course it's too late for that now."

"Not unless they ban the use of pravdrugs tomorrow," he agreed soberly. "Still, as long as you don't tell anyone else, I'm the only one they can charge with knowing collusion." His eyes hardened. "And it will remain that way. Understand?"