was not supernatural -- it was a normal function of the city to project guides and teachers -- but she wasn't immune to awe.
The figure stopped at a tower which rose thirty-five meters above the city crest, on the outer circuit of walkways. He pointed at an eroded panel and she reached out to touch it. Then he vanished.
A door slid aside and Reah stepped into a brightly lit room. The walls were covered with glowing charts and diagrams. In the center, on a raised pedestal, was a chair and a console larger than any she had seen. She stepped up to the chair and stood behind it, looking at the board's soft green luminosity. She recognized the three louvred screens and an array of knobs which were retinal projectors. Reah didn't completely understand the technology of the past, but it wasn't hard to guess that whoever sat in the chair would have a great deal of information at her fingertips.
She sat. The cushion crumpled like pastry under her weight, but the solid body of the chair adjusted to fit.
"May we help you?" a voice from the ceiling asked.
"Where is this?"
"This is one of five city surveillance centers."
Reah nodded absently and looked at the charts more closely. The city was huge. She had hardly had time to become familiar with it, but she recognized many of the larger features. "Are you..." She hesitated, still not used to speaking to voices without humans behind them. "Are you aware the city is dying?"
"We are. Our regeneration facilities have been depleted and there is a breakdown in reproduction memory."
"You answer more than my question. Are you a simple machine?"
"We are the architect. We coordinate the city."
"I mean -- do you think, are you alive?"
"Yes. But we are not aware in the same way you are."
Reah touched a louvred screen. "But you want to stay alive, don't you?"
"At one time this city had a purpose, and that made it pleasant to exist. There is no purpose now."
"Why?"
"A city is nothing without citizens."
"But you kicked them out."
"They were not worthy."
She didn't feel like arguing the point. "Still, you've let people in now -- injured people."
"If we were in complete control, we would not allow that. The city defenses are weakened and many functions have been turned over to medical units."
"Then you don't control everything," Reah said.
"No. Authority has been crumbling for a century."
"Is there any way to get it back?"
"The architect is an incomplete unit now and cannot control all city functions. Authority has been delegated to best serve the city."
"Can you ... delegate authority to me?"
"No," the architect said, "but there is a unit which can."
"Will you put me in touch with that unit?"
A different voice spoke. "Religious coordinator. May we help you?"
She sat silent for several seconds, biting her lower lip. "What's your function?"
"Scheduling the sacred activities and organizing spiritual exercises."
"Can you give me control of the city?"
"This unit is no longer complete and lacks motivation. For that reason, it is desirable to find a unit or individual with motivation. Do you qualify?"
"I ... yes."
"Will you reject those who do not meet the spiritual standards of the city, who do not believe in the Resurrection and the Life, in Beauty Eternal and the dominance of the Almighty Lord our God?"
"Yes," she said, "but Allah is all-knowing." She didn't feel the least twinge of guilt; the city was insane. Having been insane once herself, she knew how necessary it was to exercise discretion.
"You are a retired city manager. Now you are reinstated. The penalty for failing to meet the standards is rejection. The city is under your control."
Reah smiled and wiped her damp palms on her dress.
In the shadow of Resurrection, after a day's hot march, Durragon relaxed and drank a cup of stale water proffered by Breetod. He looked over the mottled towers and walls with a speculative eye, then ordered the Habiru brought to him. The teacher came with wary eyes and stooped
The figure stopped at a tower which rose thirty-five meters above the city crest, on the outer circuit of walkways. He pointed at an eroded panel and she reached out to touch it. Then he vanished.
A door slid aside and Reah stepped into a brightly lit room. The walls were covered with glowing charts and diagrams. In the center, on a raised pedestal, was a chair and a console larger than any she had seen. She stepped up to the chair and stood behind it, looking at the board's soft green luminosity. She recognized the three louvred screens and an array of knobs which were retinal projectors. Reah didn't completely understand the technology of the past, but it wasn't hard to guess that whoever sat in the chair would have a great deal of information at her fingertips.
She sat. The cushion crumpled like pastry under her weight, but the solid body of the chair adjusted to fit.
"May we help you?" a voice from the ceiling asked.
"Where is this?"
"This is one of five city surveillance centers."
Reah nodded absently and looked at the charts more closely. The city was huge. She had hardly had time to become familiar with it, but she recognized many of the larger features. "Are you..." She hesitated, still not used to speaking to voices without humans behind them. "Are you aware the city is dying?"
"We are. Our regeneration facilities have been depleted and there is a breakdown in reproduction memory."
"You answer more than my question. Are you a simple machine?"
"We are the architect. We coordinate the city."
"I mean -- do you think, are you alive?"
"Yes. But we are not aware in the same way you are."
Reah touched a louvred screen. "But you want to stay alive, don't you?"
"At one time this city had a purpose, and that made it pleasant to exist. There is no purpose now."
"Why?"
"A city is nothing without citizens."
"But you kicked them out."
"They were not worthy."
She didn't feel like arguing the point. "Still, you've let people in now -- injured people."
"If we were in complete control, we would not allow that. The city defenses are weakened and many functions have been turned over to medical units."
"Then you don't control everything," Reah said.
"No. Authority has been crumbling for a century."
"Is there any way to get it back?"
"The architect is an incomplete unit now and cannot control all city functions. Authority has been delegated to best serve the city."
"Can you ... delegate authority to me?"
"No," the architect said, "but there is a unit which can."
"Will you put me in touch with that unit?"
A different voice spoke. "Religious coordinator. May we help you?"
She sat silent for several seconds, biting her lower lip. "What's your function?"
"Scheduling the sacred activities and organizing spiritual exercises."
"Can you give me control of the city?"
"This unit is no longer complete and lacks motivation. For that reason, it is desirable to find a unit or individual with motivation. Do you qualify?"
"I ... yes."
"Will you reject those who do not meet the spiritual standards of the city, who do not believe in the Resurrection and the Life, in Beauty Eternal and the dominance of the Almighty Lord our God?"
"Yes," she said, "but Allah is all-knowing." She didn't feel the least twinge of guilt; the city was insane. Having been insane once herself, she knew how necessary it was to exercise discretion.
"You are a retired city manager. Now you are reinstated. The penalty for failing to meet the standards is rejection. The city is under your control."
Reah smiled and wiped her damp palms on her dress.
In the shadow of Resurrection, after a day's hot march, Durragon relaxed and drank a cup of stale water proffered by Breetod. He looked over the mottled towers and walls with a speculative eye, then ordered the Habiru brought to him. The teacher came with wary eyes and stooped
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