Read Online One Thousand Years by Randolph Beck - Free Book Online Page A

imagined, if he escapes, doing this for real.
But the dream fell apart when Berlin came into view. It was not the
Berlin of 1944. The Tiger was simulating the Berlin of 2968.
    Even
from the distance, there was no doubting its majesty. Continuing the
approach, its myriad skyscrapers became visible.
    “It's
beautiful,” McHenry gasped.
    Only
then did Vinson recognize the nature of McHenry's amazement. “Oh,
I should have started with the flyover. I guess you were expecting
the twentieth-century version. The Tiger knows the current year but
its programming is not aware of the full situation, as it would be if on
a real mission. For security reasons, their memories are cleared
after each mission.”
    They broke off the approach and did the flyover.
Later, they reset and did Paris and New York City
before simulating a return home to the Göring .
    Göring had not become visible until it blossomed into view less than two
kilometers away, at which point it filled the sky. Even then its
appearance had to be enhanced by the machine. This was the first
time McHenry had seen the outside hull of Göring —
a long cigar-shape surrounded in black netting.
    “That
net is the reason we could not see it right away,” Vinson
explained. “The material format is called unterkarbon .
It distorts any light that passes through it.”
    “So
that ship is invisible?” asked McHenry.
    “From
a sufficient distance, yes. We think even the Grauen cannot see it.
The Tigers have them too. They extend outward, and then retract as
they're brought into the ship.”
    McHenry
circled the ship for a second look. The black net was woven in a
geometric pattern formed out of triangles. He instinctively knew
that the geometry must be essential, but couldn't imagine how it may
work.
    The
docking maneuver was easy. They simply ordered the rechner to take
it in. There was no discernible point where the netting was being
retracted. McHenry wondered whether the simulation skips that step,
or if the machine just handles it as smoothly as it does so much
else.
    It
had been a long day, and Vinson had promised the doctor that McHenry
would get to bed early. He led the way out of the hangar, back into
the main part of the ship. McHenry had become accustomed to
zero-gravity, but was happy to be standing on a firm deck once again.
    Once
there, the door to his room slid open. McHenry paused at the
entrance. “How does it know I'm going in there?”
    “The
rechner makes judgments based upon which way you are going,”
Vinson answered. “It probably also watches what direction you
are looking at. And, of course, it knows that is your door.”
    McHenry
was not comfortable with a machine that could know so much. “How
does it know which direction I'm looking at?”
    Vinson
laughed. “The rechner can see and hear everything in the
ship.”
    McHenry
pretended to laugh along with him, but he wasn't sure if that was
meant as a straight answer.
    “If
you need to know anything, just call for the rechner.”
    “Thanks.”
    The
doors closed behind McHenry and he was alone for the first time that
day. Or as alone as he could be with a machine that could see and
hear everything he does.
    “Rechner,”
he said. Then he stood there while trying to remember the word for
the window command.
    After
a few seconds, a voice came out of the air. “Waiting.”
    “Is
that you, machine?”
    “Yes.
Waiting.” The rechner spoke with a slightly unhuman form of a
proper-sounding British accent.
    “I
want to see the window again.”
    The
window appeared in the wall. They were much higher now and the
curvature of the Earth was more pronounced. The ship seemed to be
moving too slowly to discern any motion.
    “What
was the word for that?”
    “Window.”
    “No.
I mean, what was the German word for that?”
    “ Fenster.”
    He
sat down, stared out the window, and wondered what he would do next.
    “Rechner,
what is going on down there right now?”
    “Germany
is currently at war