dishonor in this. At the correct moment, you must end it. Smash the coolant pipes. It is the only way to safeguard—”
“But you
are
alive,” I say, shaking my head. “To say that you aren’t is a lie. You think what you are doing is right, I see that. But it is suicide. Better to take your chances with whatever comes down the shaft. Let me stand in front of you.”
With my tools, perhaps I can reroute the elevator away from Maxim’s control and bring it down. Perhaps I will reach the surface in time to fight.
“I will not help you commit suicide,” I say.
Turning, I scan the room for a crowbar.
A silent flash bursts before me and I’m blinded, just for a moment. My face is engulfed in greenish, murky light. I stumble, catch myself against the cold elevator door. The blur of light falls into place and once again takes on the shape of a man.
It is Maxim, his moon face flickering with rage. The stout man is flushed, jaw clenched. His eyes burn frightening and bright in their sockets.
“Yes!” he shouts. “I am alive! Yes, I am a man!”
Maxim gesticulates with muscular arms. Flecks of spit spray from his mouth as he shouts at me. “Who the hell are you to tell me how to die!?”
This makes me pause.
“I wish to die for my people. It is my choice. How dare you try to deny me this? Go over to that wall, Vasily Zaytsev. Pick up the goddamned ax. At the opportune moment, do what you must do. I will do what I must do. You will take my final message and leave here. Travel east to the coast and climb the peninsular antenna and deliver this message to the world. For your honor and for mine!”
My skin goose-pimples with cold shame. He is a man, of course. A Russian man. And every man has his rights.
“Why not simply fight and die?” I whisper to the apparition.
Maxim’s blunt dirty face relaxes, slowly unknots. His wide jaw snaps shut and he makes a crooked grin. He turns his glowing hands palms up, showing the creases and callouses, almost as if he is asking for forgiveness.
“For my wife, Vasily. For my daughter.”
I snatch the ax from where it has rested these months. It is heavy and familiar in my hands. I twist the cold wooden handle back and forth until it is warm, marching into the darkness of the stacks. My feet move on their own. Navigating these narrow aisles is second nature to me now. This is a burrow that I have called home for long months that stretch out into the darkness like years.
“Wait until the moment comes,” says Maxim. “Not long now.”
Distantly, I hear the freight elevator engage.
“They’re here. Does this mean … Leonid?”
“I am sorry. I arrayed the topside troops into the most stable possible defensive configurations. Each sacrifice was for maximum utility. They fought like lions.”
“They’re gone. All of them?”
“There was not a winning solution. Not this time. Too much avtomat hardware was left in the woods. The enemy sent everything it could find against us.”
“After all these years,” I muse. “We are lost.”
The elevator shaft echoes with strange sounds, the scrape of metal on metal. The wires groan and strain as something heavy descends. Something creeping down here into the dark with me.
“Not you, Vasily. You must live. You must take our final message to the east antenna. Wait until R-8 enters the core. It will be vulnerable then. While our minds are connected, I will take as much data as I can. We will learn its true intentions. And you must warn the rest of the world. Sever the connection midtransfer and the thing may be confused momentarily.”
“What is the point of this, Maxim?”
“The boy-thing Archos R-14 told us half the truth. If Arayt controls these stacks, it will become a god and it may seek to eradicate all life. But there is another supercluster that R-14 did not mention. It is in North America, overseen by the freeborn robots. R-8 will go there next. If they do not know to protect their supercluster, then what
“But you
are
alive,” I say, shaking my head. “To say that you aren’t is a lie. You think what you are doing is right, I see that. But it is suicide. Better to take your chances with whatever comes down the shaft. Let me stand in front of you.”
With my tools, perhaps I can reroute the elevator away from Maxim’s control and bring it down. Perhaps I will reach the surface in time to fight.
“I will not help you commit suicide,” I say.
Turning, I scan the room for a crowbar.
A silent flash bursts before me and I’m blinded, just for a moment. My face is engulfed in greenish, murky light. I stumble, catch myself against the cold elevator door. The blur of light falls into place and once again takes on the shape of a man.
It is Maxim, his moon face flickering with rage. The stout man is flushed, jaw clenched. His eyes burn frightening and bright in their sockets.
“Yes!” he shouts. “I am alive! Yes, I am a man!”
Maxim gesticulates with muscular arms. Flecks of spit spray from his mouth as he shouts at me. “Who the hell are you to tell me how to die!?”
This makes me pause.
“I wish to die for my people. It is my choice. How dare you try to deny me this? Go over to that wall, Vasily Zaytsev. Pick up the goddamned ax. At the opportune moment, do what you must do. I will do what I must do. You will take my final message and leave here. Travel east to the coast and climb the peninsular antenna and deliver this message to the world. For your honor and for mine!”
My skin goose-pimples with cold shame. He is a man, of course. A Russian man. And every man has his rights.
“Why not simply fight and die?” I whisper to the apparition.
Maxim’s blunt dirty face relaxes, slowly unknots. His wide jaw snaps shut and he makes a crooked grin. He turns his glowing hands palms up, showing the creases and callouses, almost as if he is asking for forgiveness.
“For my wife, Vasily. For my daughter.”
I snatch the ax from where it has rested these months. It is heavy and familiar in my hands. I twist the cold wooden handle back and forth until it is warm, marching into the darkness of the stacks. My feet move on their own. Navigating these narrow aisles is second nature to me now. This is a burrow that I have called home for long months that stretch out into the darkness like years.
“Wait until the moment comes,” says Maxim. “Not long now.”
Distantly, I hear the freight elevator engage.
“They’re here. Does this mean … Leonid?”
“I am sorry. I arrayed the topside troops into the most stable possible defensive configurations. Each sacrifice was for maximum utility. They fought like lions.”
“They’re gone. All of them?”
“There was not a winning solution. Not this time. Too much avtomat hardware was left in the woods. The enemy sent everything it could find against us.”
“After all these years,” I muse. “We are lost.”
The elevator shaft echoes with strange sounds, the scrape of metal on metal. The wires groan and strain as something heavy descends. Something creeping down here into the dark with me.
“Not you, Vasily. You must live. You must take our final message to the east antenna. Wait until R-8 enters the core. It will be vulnerable then. While our minds are connected, I will take as much data as I can. We will learn its true intentions. And you must warn the rest of the world. Sever the connection midtransfer and the thing may be confused momentarily.”
“What is the point of this, Maxim?”
“The boy-thing Archos R-14 told us half the truth. If Arayt controls these stacks, it will become a god and it may seek to eradicate all life. But there is another supercluster that R-14 did not mention. It is in North America, overseen by the freeborn robots. R-8 will go there next. If they do not know to protect their supercluster, then what
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