***The Hills of Time***
***by George Pollock, Jr.***

***Chapter 6***
***Flights of Angels***

   Catty headed back to the bridge along dark, destroyed, cold corridors.
   I'm so tired ...
   I want to sleep ...
   Can't I sleep now ...?
   Mother, can't I sleep now ...?
   To her surprise ...
   She got an answer.
   In a voice she knew well.
   In a voice she didn't know was within her.
   If it was from within her ...
   Because where it came from, she really didn't know ...
   "Soon, dear, very soon ..."

*******

   Damn, this thing is heavy ...
   Catty was back by the crew quarters, having carried the ACPU half the 
length of the ship. She was tired. Physically tired.
   And that surprised her.
   She put the ACPU on its end on the deck, then sat on it to rest. Her 
breath puffed off in clouds of exertion. Through the steam, she saw the tiny, 
faint red "Locked" indicators on the crew quarters' doors. Just as she had 
left them.
   The android massaged her right wrist and shoulder, which had last taken 
the ACPU's weight. The discomfort was novel to Catty. 
   Not that it made the aching easier to bear ...
   I don't understand, she thought. I pulled open the frozen doors to the 
computer room with no problem. Why am I hurting now?
   IT'S YOUR MICRO-HYDRAULICS. THEY'RE LOW ON FLUID, AND YOU'RE BEGINNING TO 
STRAIN THEM.
   Catty sighed. The central database was right -- as much as she didn't like 
to admit it. And only her skin had pain sensors that could be turned off.
   YA KNOW, I DIDN'T ACTUALLY TELL YA SO ...
   Then don't.
   UH-HUH. HOW MUCH FARTHER YA GONNA LUG THIS GLORIFIED CALCULATOR?
   To the bridge. Then I'll attend to the captain, and ... oh, Mother 
Nebulart ...
   WHA'?
   That's why I'm low ... And I knew it when it happened ...
   CAN I GET IN ON THE SECRET, BABE?
   It's the captain ... I cried for her ...
   OH, YEAH. SAW THAT. WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL?
   It was ... the first time I realized ... this is the end ... It had been 
... just a programmed duty until then ... A program ...
   CAN'T FIGHT YOUR PROGRAMMING, HON' ...
    I know that ... Should have stayed professional ... Should have thought 
only of my duty ... But seeing the captain's shock ... I didn't know ... what 
putting a conscious organic down with Infinizene ... would be like ...
    Catty sighed again.
    I needed those fluids ...
    ... I shouldn't have cried for her ...
   "Yes, you should have cried, dear. It was appropriate. Be fair to yourself 
..."
   Catty started and sat bolt upright.  
   The voice she knew well.
   And again  ...
   She really didn't know where it came from ...
   For a moment, her breathing was the only sound in the dark corridor.
   Where are you? she thought.
   Who are you ...?
   WHO YA TALKIN' TO?
   Did you hear that?
   HEAR WHAT?
   Don't play games with me now!! I'm not in the mood!!
   WHOA, CHILL OUT!! I DIDN'T HEAR ANYTHING! WHAT DO YA THINK YA HEARD?
   The android looked around, listening. 
   And heard nothing.
   Listen: Answer me truthfully ... Are there ... any other interactive 
artificial-intelligence programs ... in me ... that I don't know about ...?
   WHA' ...?
   Answer me, damn it!!
   NO, HON'. THERE AIN'T NOBODY HERE BUT US CHICKENS. I SWEAR ...
   Are you sure?
   YES. LOOK, BABE ... WHAT DO YA THINK YA HEARD?
   ... Someone ... it couldn't possibly be ...
   WHO ...?
   Catty closed  her gold-colored eyes. 
   My mother ...

*******

   Cyber-insanity.
   It was known to happen.
   Catty knew it could happen.
   When an artificial-intelligence device was left alone for too long, things 
... happened ...
   The need to interact became too strong ...
   Things ... happened ...
   Old data would be brought up unknowingly.
   And the AI device would ... see things ...
   ... Hear things ...
   That weren't there ...  
   ... Like dead organic beings ...
   I don't want to think about this, Catty thought.
   I don't want to think about this ...
   She slowly rounded a corner, straining against the burden of the ACPU. It 
was time to shift the load to her other arm, so she stopped. Down the 
corridor were the bridge doors.
   Almost there ...
   Thank you, Mother Nebulart ...
   And her prayer was answered.
   By a scream.
   A piercing metallic scream.
   A wrenching scream that gave her circuits pause.
   A painful scream from far behind her.
   The horrific screech of the ship being smashed by something.
   Before Catty could turn around, the jarring deck threw her and the ACPU 
back down the corridor they had come from. She fell onto her back as frosty 
debris rained down on her. The dying emergency lights got even dimmer. The 
android heard the muffled crash of other debris falling erratically elsewhere 
in the ship.
   The screaming stopped. 
   She looked up from the deck. Loose frost glittered in the weak light and 
fell on her face like snow.
   Mother Nebulart, she thought ...
   What now ...?
   And again, an answer.
   The voice.
   Her mother's voice.
   "Get to the bridge, dear. Hurry."
   Catty breathed heavily on the deck, watching the false snow.
   Mother ...?
   "No time, dear. Get to the bridge. Hurry."
   She picked herself up slowly, groaning. The strain from the ACPU and now 
this collision was telling in her joints. Brushing back her disheveled 
lavender hair, she picked up the ACPU and checked it. A green light. All red 
lights on. It was OK.
   She looked back down the dark corridor for a moment and listened. After 
putting down the organics, she had turned her audio gain back to max. But 
there had been nothing to hear.
   Until now.
   Far into the darkness, she heard ...
   It sounded like ...
   Pounding.
   Metallic pounding.
   Insistent.
   And angry.
   Then a final, vicious single smash.
   And the sound of metal falling harshly onto other metal.
   And then ...
   After a silence ...
   Something lighter falling onto metal ...
   Followed by ...
   Listen ...
   Listen ...
   Slow ...
   Steady ...
   Footsteps.
   Oh, no ...
   OH, MOTHER, NO!!
   Catty panicked.
   For the first time in her life.
   No curiosity about the footsteps. It was overridden.
   Panic was all.
   Quickly, she moved away from the darkness. Backing into a far bulkhead, 
she started in terror and stumbled away toward the bridge doors.
   Hefting the ACPU alongside her, Catty puffed loudly as she headed to the 
doors. She got to their sensor threshold.
   Nothing happened. The doors didn't move.
   OPEN, DAMN YOU!! YOU WORTHLESS JUNK!! OPEN!!
   Catty froze. And listened.
   They were still there.
   They were still far away.
   But they were there.
   The footsteps.
   Slow ...
   Steady ...
   OH, MOTHER, HELP ME!!
   She put down the ACPU and clawed at the minute space between the door 
halves. She pulled her hands apart, barely noticing the ripping pain that she 
was causing her overworked muscles.
   One thought.
   Only one thought:
   OPEN THE DOORS!! OPEN THE DAMN DOORS!!
   OPEN!!
   OPEN!!
   A creaking. Then a metallic squeal. Then Catty heard the overloaded door 
servos growl within the bulkhead. 
   And finally, slowly, the doors opened onto the growing darkness of the 
bridge.
   The android grunted as she opened a space barely wide enough for her to 
pass through sideways. Catty grabbed the ACPU and forced herself into the 
opening. The gnawingly cold metal of the doors grazed her back, buttocks, 
belly and breasts, causing a cascade shutdown of pain sensors. When she was 
through, she pulled the ACPU inside with a clunky banging of metal on metal.
   She stopped, the puffs of her breathing lit faintly by emergency light 
streaming through the opening.
   She listened.
   Still ...
   From far away ...
   Slow ...
   Steady ...
   The footsteps.
   Catty backed away from the opening.
   Oh, Mother, she thought ...
   Are they real?
   Are they?
   Or ...
   Am I ... going mad ...?
   Cyber-insanity?
   Have I gone insane ...?
   Mother, tell me!!
   Again, the voice.
   "No, dear. You're not mad. Close the doors and lock them. Hurry."
   Catty put down the ACPU, hurrying to the manual control next to the doors. 
Opening the panel's cover, she grabbed the red handle inside and turned it. 
With a hissing of pressure, the door halves slowly slid shut, cutting off the 
feeble outside light and leaving only the bridge's emergency lights. The 
android felt for the other lever inside and pulled it. A loud, heavy metallic 
clanking shot through the wall, through the bridge, through Catty.
   The doors were locked.
   She closed the control panel and leaned back in exhaustion against the 
bulkhead. Nearly all her pain sensors were off now, so she hardly felt the 
freezing metal. Catty breathed heavily for a moment, studying the ACPU on the 
deck. Then she looked up.
   Capt. Ortiz was still slumped over in her command chair.
   Outside the ship, a million stars gleamed in their black-blue sea.
   Nowhere else to go, Catty thought.
   This is my final place.
   She watched the stars. They were passing slightly faster. The last 
collision added more momentum to the ship. Mother only knows where we'll end 
up, she thought.
   Mother ...
   Oh, Mother ...
   I'm so tired ...
   I want to sleep ...
   Can't I sleep now ...?
   As if it were next to her -- and yet, far away -- the voice replied.
   "Yes, dear. Now you can sleep ..." 

*******

   The final duty.
   At last.
   Where it should be, of course ...
   Catty chuckled softly. Gallows humor.
   She looked at Eluza in the command chair. The woman who had taught her 
gallows humor. The android was beginning to understand why it was so 
important to organics.
   Laughing kept you from going mad.
   Catty saw wires dangling from a corner of the bridge's ceiling. She tugged 
on them, and they fell out with a shower of frost -- and with a ceiling panel 
that clanged on the deck below.
   There goes my cleaning deposit, she thought without thinking. 
   More gallows humor. She was beginning to like it. 
   Maybe that happened, she mused, as you got closer to the gallows ...
   She snapped off  about two meters each of two wires and laid them next to 
the command chair. Gently, she arranged Eluza's body so the captain would 
rest comfortably.
   For how long, Catty had no way of knowing.
   Picking up the wires, she looped them around the back of the chair and 
tied them over Eluza's waist and arms. Securely -- but not so tight as to cut 
off her circulation. It didn't look like it, but the organic woman still had 
circulation. Slow, almost indiscernible, but there.
   So she could still live. 
   There was still a chance at happiness for all of us, Catty thought. That's 
why I'm doing this.
   Have to keep telling myself that ...
   When Eluza was secure, Catty stood up and studied the captain.
   My sister was right, she thought.
   One hell of a lady here ...
   She rendered the Solnoid salute. "Dream of the future," she whispered. 
"Dream of hope."
   Catty lowered her arm slowly.
   And now ...
   My turn ....
   At last.
   She picked up the remaining wire and sat at the ops station. On the 
display panel, the little red readout in the corner ticked off steadily: Five 
minutes of battery power left.
   Five minutes of Solnoid history left.
   Catty snapped off more wire and looped it around the chair's back, then 
tied it across her waist. Why didn't they have zero-G belts on the bridge? 
she wondered. Maybe the powers-that-be thought bridge personnel needed to be 
free to move around, even in zero G.
   She chuckled again. Now they would be the powers-that-were ...
   After securing herself, she tied the ACPU to the side of the chair, 
snaking wire around its boxy body and through its handle. After testing that 
the ACPU was anchored fast, she put her hands in her pockets. No matter how 
long she would sleep, she didn't want her arms to float freely after 
artificial-G gave out.
   And she didn't need her hands for what she had to do next.
   The android gazed at her faint reflection in the display panel. Her hair 
was messy, but she could see the glint off her golden eyes. Eyes that now had 
a surprising sadness in them -- one she didn't think they could convey. But 
they did. She could see it.
   The last Solnoid face I'll see, she thought.
   Mine ...
   She sighed.
   Now.
   Do it now.
   She closed her eyes.
   Access Catty shutdown protocol, she thought.
   She waited an instant for the program to boot up.
   "Catty shutdown protocol activated, dear."
   The android snapped her eyes open instantly and whipped her head toward 
the voice.
   The voice.
   And toward the speaker.
   Her mother.
   Capt. Catty Nebulart.
   She stood about two meters away, looking at Catty. She was taller than the 
android -- commanding yet slim and beautiful in her black, white and red 
dress uniform with its captain's braid. She had Catty's face with 10 
additional years of life, joy and sadness on it. Her lavender hair flowed to 
the middle of her back.
   She was smiling.
   Mother, Catty thought.
   Mother ...
   No ...
   No!
   NO!!
   I have gone mad ...
   Oh, help me ...
   Someone, help me ...
   "Do you want to continue or cancel, dear?"
   Catty studied the figure in stunned disbelief as it asked the question. 
Through the confusion, she finally noticed that it was semitransparent: She 
could see, mostly, the other side of the bridge through it.
   She turned away suddenly, looking at the opposite end of the bridge.
   And her mother was there, too.
   "Do you want to continue or cancel, dear?"
   I think ... 
   I think ...
   ... I understand ..., Catty thought.
   A projection. 
   Of course.
   Had to be.
   How brilliant.
   And so simple, Catty wondered:
   Her mother -- realizing that shutdown might be confusing, if not 
frightening, to a Catty android -- had incorporated her image and voice into 
the shutdown protocol. So the Catty wouldn't be alone at the end.
   She would be with someone who loved her.
   Her mother.
   I was right, she thought ...
   My mother did think of everything ...
   That's what all this is ...
   Of  course.
   I'm sure of it.
   Has to be.
   Has to be ...
   "I want ... to continue ...." Catty finally told the image.
   "What option do you want to select, dear -- sleep or complete shutdown? 
Complete shutdown requires total external reactivation."
   Catty looked down, tired at the very thought. "Mother ... I want to sleep 
..."
   "For what period, dear?"
   "Indefinite period ..." The android sighed. "Mother ... I want to cross 
... the final frontier ..." She looked up. "I want ... to cross ... time ..."
   "What reactivation mode do you want to select, dear -- proximity or 
photo-sensitive?"
   "Proximity. Standard biological parameters." Under photo-sensitive, Catty 
might wake up if the ship passed close to a star. The light would enter her 
still-open eyes and activate her startup circuits. Then she'd have to go 
through shutdown again. 
   She didn't want that.
   And if the ship got too close to a star, she didn't want to be awake when 
the Star Leaf -- and its occupants -- vaporized.
   Proximity, on the other hand, meant that when a biological entity -- of 
certain parameters -- came within a set distance from her, Catty's sensor net 
would detect the presence and reactivate her.
   The gamble was you hoped -- prayed, usually -- that the organic entity 
didn't think you were food.
   Now, as for activating the sensor net ...
   And keeping her mind alive ...
   Again -- for how long, she had no way of knowing ...
   "Activate positronic pulse now, dear -- or cancel?"
   "Activate. Start dutonium emitter."
   Within her, Catty felt a slight warmth build. Dutonium had such a long 
half-life, the Solnoids never learned just how long it took to decay. The 
possibility of indefinite power was why Nebulart chose it as emergency neural 
power for the Catties.
    The mystery of dutonium's longevity had a good side: The element emitted 
only positrons, which ran a Catty's neural net. Further, the system would 
release only one positron at a time to keep the net in condition. And when 
the Catty was finally reactivated, the emitter would produce just enough 
power to restart the micro-fusion reactor.
   If the Catty were ever reactivated ...
   The android smiled grimly.
   Our final gamble ...
   The image spoke. "Start countdown to sleep, dear -- or cancel?"
   This is it, Catty thought.
   I could cancel ...
   But ...
   If not cyber-insanity ...
   I'll die of loneliness.
   I know I will ...
   I feel it ...
   Spea.
   Shildy.
   Amy.
   My dead friends ...
   Capt. Ortiz.
   Rabby.
   Patty.
   Lufy.
   Sleeping heroes ...
   I'm on my way ...
   Whether my sleep is death or not ...
   I don't know ...
   I may never know ...
   "Start countdown," she said at last.
   "Starting countdown now, dear. Ten ... nine ... eight .. seven ..."
   The android's eyelids suddenly got heavier. Catty felt her mind getting 
darker.
   And quieter.
   "Six ... five ... four ..."
   Before the completeness of the dark, Catty saw the image of her mother 
before her -- smiling at her.
   The little consciousness that Catty had left smiled back.
   Good night ...
   Mother ...
   "Three .. two ..."
   The flashes started. Instants of yellow in the black. The positronic 
emissions had begun.
   Zeep ...
   Zeep ...
   Zeep ...
   "One ... Zero ..."
   There was quiet.
   There was dark.
   And all that was left of Catty Shoumen:
   The sound of positronic sleep in her silent mind:
   Zeep ...
   Zeep ...
   Zeep ...
   Zeep ...

*******

   The image of Capt. Catty Nebulart sighed.
   It was over.
   At last.
   Her daughter -- her only surviving child -- was safe.
   Even from that which was outside.
   That which was outside would freeze soon. It would survive the ages, to be 
sure -- but it would never harm her daughter. Ever.
   Not even in the far future.
   Those to come would see to that.
   They would protect her.
   They would protect her friends.
   And they would teach her and her friends.
   They would even teach that which was outside.
   The image approached Catty, still sitting upright at the ops station. A 
translucent hand reached out and stroked the lavender hair. The hand seemed 
to solidify for a moment. Gently, lovingly, it brushed the hair into a 
semblance of order. The hand faded down.
   Then the image bent over and pressed its lips against her head.
   "Dream of possibilities," it whispered, "all around you -- and within you 
..."
   What looked like a tear appeared at the corner of one eye. "Good night ... 
my child," it said in a voice sad for an entire race.
   "Good night, my love ..."
   The image straightened and brushed its eye. The maybe-tear vanished. 
Taking a breath, the image gave Catty the Solnoid salute, then dropped its 
arm sadly back to its side.
   The image turned and walked away. It paused when it passed Eluza in her 
chair, then gave a slow salute to the captain. It reached out, stroked 
Eluza's head once, then drew back.
   It listened.
   The others were calling.
   The thousands today.
   The millions over millennia.
   And through the voices, it knew ...
   That Shildy was uncertain now ....
   Spea was confused ...
   And Amy was still frightened ...
   The image sighed. They needed comfort and love.
   All that needed to be done here is done ...
   It's time to go.
   With that, the image of Capt. Catty Nebulart walked off the bridge.
   Through a bulkhead.
   Toward the stars.

TO BE CONTINUED