Deadman Switch

"Not forever, no," he said evenly. "But perhaps for awhile."

Calandra snorted. "And what would that gain you? Unless you plan to get out from under your creation before the whole thing collapses."

The corners of Adams's mouth tightened in anger. "I did not 'create' the Halo of God," he bit out. "Not for my own gain, not for anything else. It happened far more spontaneously than that, among a great many people."

"Then why be afraid of the truth?" I asked.

He looked back at me, and his gaze hardened. "You think it's for myself that I'm worried? I'd have thought a Watcher would understand me better."

I waited, and after a moment he sighed. "All right. Assume for a moment that your theory is right, that Dr. Eisenstadt's people have proved God isn't actually speaking to us here. How long do you think it will be until someone makes the obvious generalization?—that all manifestations of God must be similarly in error?"

It wasn't, unfortunately, a scenario that could be totally dismissed. "Those who've experienced God's presence in their own lives will know better."

"And what of those who are young in their faith?" he countered. "I've seen what the subtle pressures of this society can do to them."

But as soon as the sun came up they were scorched and, not having any roots, they withered away... "You can't protect them forever," I said.

"I know that." He hesitated. "But perhaps I can protect them until their roots are a little stronger."

"Protect them," Calandra asked quietly, "with a lie?"

A muscle in Adams's cheek twitched. "I'm sure they'd understand. Afterwards."

"Do you really believe that?" Calandra demanded, a hard edge to her voice. On her face I could see her struggle with all the memories she would have preferred to have left buried. "Well, I don't. Because I lived on Bridgeway under Aaron Balaam darMaupine. Do you know what happened to his followers after his theocracy was overthrown?"

Adams winced in sympathetic pain. "They were scattered. Those who weren't tried as accomplices and imprisoned."

"That's right," she nodded. "And there's a curious thing about that. Those accomplices—the ones who were closest to him, the ones who knew what he was doing—many of them have kept their faith. Such as it was." The hardness in her gaze faded into a sort of bitter sadness. "Most of the others, the ones he lied to... we didn't."

For a long minute the quiet background conversation of the techs at their stations and the hiss of wind whistling between the bluffs were the only sounds in the hollow. Adams gazed out at the thunderheads, his sense a no-win struggle between the logic of the situation and his desire to protect his people. "When we first met," I reminded him gently, "you told us you appreciated our honesty. If you really meant that, you have to offer that same honesty to your followers. And to yourself."

He closed his eyes, and I could see moisture at the edges of the eyelids... and I knew that he was seeing the begi

—

Eisenstadt was far from happy at the prospect of letting still another outsider in under his tight-locked security umbrella, and he again came very near to vetoing the whole experiment right then and there. But as a scientist he could hardly argue against the reasonableness of having more than one interpreter present, and in the end he gave in. Adams suggested Shepherd Joyita Zagorin be the other Seeker, and a Pravilo aircar was sent to bring her from the Myrrh settlement.

And an hour later, all was ready.

—

They sat side by side at the edge of the thunderhead city, looking up through the tangle of sensor leads attached to them as Eisenstadt ran through his instructions one final time. "...And remember, nothing fancy this time around," he told them, trying mightily not to let his complete skepticism over this whole thing show through. "Concentrate on expressing our goodwill to them, and see if you get any kind of similar feeling in return."

"Don't you want them to ask about recently dead thunderheads?" I murmured to him.

A flash of a

And if not, I heard the rest of his thought, there was no point wasting any more time than necessary listening to gibberish from religious fanatics. Fleetingly, I considered making some kind of comment; but there really wasn't anything to say. The only thing that would make a dent in his skepticism would be clear and positive results.

I could only pray there would be some. Adams nodded. "We understand," he told Eisenstadt. He took a deep breath. "Silence would be helpful to our concentration."

Eisenstadt took the hint and shut up, and I watched as Adams and Zagorin closed their eyes and slipped into their meditative trance.

The last time this had happened in my presence I'd missed seeing the actual transition. This time, paying close attention, I still almost missed it. One moment Adams was sitting quietly, his breathing slowing as all emotion seemed to drain from his sense; the next, it was all somehow different.

"It's started," I murmured to Eisenstadt. At his other side, Calandra added her agreement.

Eisenstadt nodded. "Kiell?" he called softly over his shoulder.

One of the techs stirred in his seat. "Well... something's happening," he said, his tone vaguely troubled. "The readings started looking like normal rest mode, but now..."

"But now what?" Eisenstadt prompted, his sense wavering between irritation and genuine interest.

The tech never got the chance to answer. Abruptly, Adams and Zagorin straightened simultaneously where they sat, and both sets of eyes came fully open. Open... but with a disturbing glaze to them. "Greetings to you," the two Seekers said in unison, both voices the same husky whisper. "We are the—" something I couldn't catch. "We welcome you to our... world."

Chapter 23

For a long moment we all just stood there. Eisenstadt was the first to move; and, predictably, it was to me he turned, an uncertain thunder in his expression. "If this is some sort of game, Benedar..."

The reflexive accusation died midway, and he swallowed hard. Even to him, it had to be clear that this was no trick. The odd blankness in the two Seekers' eyes, the subtle contorting of their faces, the abnormal timbres in their voices—none of it could have been faked. "It's no game, sir," I murmured. "They're in contact—somehow—with the thunderheads."

Eisenstadt exhaled between his teeth in a snake-like hiss. Adams and Zagorin were still sitting as they had after delivering their message, faces and bodies frozen as stiffly as normal human muscles could handle. Waiting for Eisenstadt's response... "Aren't you going to say something?" I prompted him quietly.

Eisenstadt's jaw tightened. "I... greet you as well," he managed. A touch of a

A moment of silence. Then Adams and Zagorin spoke, again in that oddly hoarse whisper, and again in unison. "My identity can... not be put into this... kind of speech. We are..." The voices faded.