Edith nodded. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?”

“That’s murder,” Jonathan said.

“Nonsense. I’m only a program, Johnny. Nothing more.”

“But I gave you life!”

“You gave me only the illusion of life. I am not Edith Russell. I am not your mother. I am not even a thinking entity, except insofar as you’re talking to yourself—your better self. But this is all.fundamentally an illusion, Johnny, and there’s only one way for you. You must erase this whole Titanic program … and me with it. Listen to yourself, Johnny!”

“No. I’m afraid.”

“Damn it, if that world out there kills you, then it kills you; but don’t dare look me in the eye and tell me you’ve let it break you. Remember? Do you remember, the same hammer that breaks glass can also forge steel? Isn’t that what you were always told as a child?”

“By you!”

“No, by your mother.”

“Wayville—” The whole stateroom seemed to jump, not from a collision with any iceberg, Jonathan knew, because the crystals dangling from a silk lampshade did not jingle, and beneath the lamp the tea in Edith’s cup showed no sign of a ripple. The jolt came from outside the program, and Jonathan realized that Hollis had just run Alvin aground.

“If I do as you ask,” Jonathan said, looking frightened and sad—and more sad than frightened—” will we ever meet again?”

“I doubt it,” Edith said. “But who knows? Perhaps some other night. It will be up to you, won’t it?”

Music began to drift in through the open window, cheery and ragtime. Mr. Hume and his orchestra were gathering for the finale. Edith put her hand under Jonathan’s chin and turned his head toward the ceiling. He did not resist, and called out, “Computer! Delete the Titanic program.”

“All of it?” came the reply, unsurprised but simulating it.

“Yes, all of it.”

“Are you sure?” asked the computer, as if resisting.

He looked down at Edith, pleadingly. “Tell me you’re just a figment. Tell me you wouldn’t be lying for my own good.”

“It’s all true. I’m just a figment.”

“Computer,” Jonathan said, stiffening his spine, “follow my instructions.”

As the stateroom began to fade and turn into the gray-painted cabin of Alvin, Edith put out her hand to touch Jonathan, but it melted through his chest, to his heart, as if she were trying to say, I’ll be right here. And then she was gone, leaving Jonathan with the only lie she had told him.

12

Long Beach

The shore was a quarter kilometer seaward of where the computers said it should have been. Even with the unusually high tide created by pressure reduction in the hurricane’s eye, more than a fathom of water was missing beneath Alvin’s keel.

The air was clear and calm, although a one-meter surf was crashing around the submarine’s hull. Hollis threw lines from the deck, and Jonathan breathed deeply. The atmosphere was still thick and hot, but he began to savor the daylight and the escape from the cabin.