by Sean O'Brien
“Kiv, listen. We’ll be careful. We’ll keep—”
“Domeit, Mother, you listen! I’m ordering an end to it! You’ll tell the leader of this expedition to cease work immediately and return to the mainland. Or would you prefer I do that?”
“I’d prefer to keep studying them.”
Kiv stared at her, and his mood changed abruptly. “Why can’t you listen to me? I am the leader of this colony. I am ordering you to stop work.” His words conveyed command, but his voice was almost a petulant whine.
“Are you telling me to stop because you are afraid of our safety, or are you just trying to get back at me for all the years I ignored you?”
Kiv swallowed before answering. When he did, Khadre could hear the effort he was exerting to keep his voice even. “You will cease research on the vix, effective immediately. I am declaring this an emergency, where I have broad disciplinary powers. If need be, you will be impressed into military service where you will assist in naval technologies should they become necessary to put down Dome rebellion. If you do not follow my orders, I will have you placed under arrest.” His voice faltered on the final words, but he kept is eyes locked on hers.
Khadre thought to fight him—he did not have any police with him, and it would be quite a while before he could summon anyone to enforce his order. In the meantime, she and the crew of the research vessel could conduct valuable research on the vix. She might also be able to change Kiv’s mind while he waited for police to arrive.
But she knew that that would hurt him more than anything else she could do. To disobey him now would ruin whatever chance she stood of correcting the damage of the past.
If, indeed, she could correct it at all.
Khadre reluctantly climbed the short ladder that led out of the comm suite and headed for the bridge.
Kiv did not speak to his mother during the trip back to shore. Had he bothered to analyze his own behavior, he might have found himself irrational, selfish, even childish. Questions hovered at the edge of his conscious mind—why had he truly suspended research on the vix? Surely the researchers could take precautions, studying the vix from remote locations or with robot submersibles. Had he simply wanted to take away something his mother found dear: more dear than she found him?
Could he truly be jealous of the vix?
He would not think that thought. He was an elder statesman, the leader of a million colonists on a world orbiting an alien star. He was more than just his mother’s child.
His mind sought for a way out of the loop it threatened to lose itself in, and it turned to the Tannites. The small but troublesome faction had been unusually active lately—there had ben three near-violent demonstrations (in the Dome, of course) and an unusually high number of threats. And his agents among the Tannites had been warning that there were indications that there was a much larger, move radical movement keeping itself hidden from the Family.
What did they want? At every step, it seemed, the Family offered its hand in welcome and the Tannites spat on it.
He had been approaching the problem from the wrong angle. The answer did not lie in integration, but in segregation. That was what the Tannites truly wanted. Why should he force them to live amongst people they hated? The planet was certainly large enough for multiple groups and points of view. What was wrong with the Tannites forming their own state and governing themselves? And if in future there were problems with the other factions, well, those would be solved by later administrators. Kiv would solve the problem of the Tannites now. If that meant armed conflict to ensure the safety of the Family, so be it.
* * *
Iede started when the door to Aywon’s chambers irised open. It was, of course, Aywon himself. Iede tried to stand up in respect, found that she could not orient herself properly in the zero-g environment, and began a lazy cartwheel spin towards the window.
Aywon swam to her and gently righted her with a bony arm. “Steady. Small movements in zero-g.”
Iede fought off shame at her behavior and mumbled, “I suppose I will have to learn how to operate in zero-g.”
“No, you won’t. That’s what I’ve come back to tell you. I’ve found a way you can get back to the planet.”
Iede stared at him. She did not fully understand her own emotions—they were a mirror image of her feelings when she had learned she would be staying on board Ship for the rest of her life: a combination of joy and regret. To her own embarrassment, she found a hard lump in her stomach had dissolved at the thought of returning to the ground.
“It won’t be easy, though. You’ll have to learn how to pilot one of our lifeboats and land it on the ground. I can teach you.”
“My Lord….”
“I’ve asked you not to call me that.”
“I will do as You say.”
“But you want to say something, don’t you? Well, go ahead. And keep the awe out of your voice.”
“I do not deserve all that has happened to me. You have shown me so much already and I cannot ask for more. Yet….” Despite his encouraging face, she could not go on. What right did she have to ask the gods for anything?
“You want to stay for a bit. Well, learning how to pilot the lifeboat will take some time, and I suppose there’s no harm in waiting a few days so I can better set up the caper. But when I’m ready, you’ll leave. You can’t stay here.”
“As you will it, Lord. I have much to teach my parishioners about all of this. When I return, I hope I can impart some of your wisdom to my people.” She closed her eyes for a few moments, thinking of the grand new evolution her religion would take.
When she opened her eyes, she found Aywon frowning at her.
“Have I displeased you?” Iede asked timorously.
“Maybe you’re right. You’re not ready to go back just yet.”
Iede looked at him, wondering what she had done wrong.
Aywon sighed and said, “You’ve still got a lot to learn. Or unlearn.” He looked out the window for a moment, then turned back to her. “Earlier, in the Groundseer hub, you were told to abandon your religion. When you return to the surface, that’s what you will do.”
“My Lord!” The exclamation was wrenched from her.
Aywon continued implacably. “There is no greater threat to the survival and well-being of the colony than your religion. If you have any love for your fellow colonists, or owe any obedience to me, you’ll do as I say.”
Iede did not answer. To put the command on that kind of footing made it impossible for her to object, but at the same time, how could she just abandon her life’s work—and abandon the man who had made her life possible?
Aywon sighed and looked away, towards the window. “I realize I am using your reverence of me to order you into a course of action—don’t think I’m not uncomfortable at that. But I must have your word that you will begin dismantling this religion as soon as you go back.”
Iede did not answer: how could she? She was trapped in a paradox she had never dreamt of—her gods were commanding her to cease her worship of them.
Aywon continued. “You have a second job to do—almost as important as the first. You must tell the others of the ruins.”
Iede blinked, nonplused. She had almost forgotten about the ruins in her awe at her surroundings. While the discovery was interesting, how could it compare with the experience of being in Ship? But her god commanded her, so the ruins must be very important.
“I will.” She bit off the honorific ‘my Lord’ with conscious effort.
Aywon seemed to sense that she did not understand the importance of the ruins. “We in Ship have always been concerned with threats to the mission from the outside. During the voyage, that meant cosmic debris and other astronautical dangers. Now that the colony is set up, our function has largely been to observe. But the ruins represent another potential outside threat—I feel it is our duty to alert you to it and help you take action.”
“But you are alone in this?” Iede ventured, remembering th
e argument in the Groundseer hub.
“Yes. I think we have been observing for so long we have forgotten to act. We see so much, Iede. Much of what you colonists do on the surface is laudable, but there is so much injustice, too. To float up here and simply watch….” He looked out the window again, staring down at the green-tinged planet. “Once before, our distant ancestors watched without taking action. I have studied our history. Never again.”
Iede stared at him with a new reverence—one born not of religion but of genuine respect for his obvious resolve, even if she did not quite understand what he meant.
“Enough of that,” he said suddenly, his voice firm again. “If you are to return to the surface, you’ll need to learn how to pilot the lifeboat. I have some holos for you to watch.”
Aywon swam to his wall control panel and began accessing flight simulator holograms. Iede watched him, wondering what she could possibly do to remove the threat the ruins presented that the gods themselves were powerless to thwart.
Chapter 24
Sirra smiled at Fozzoli and added, “For a linguist, you certainly seem at a loss for words.”
The young scientist merely shook his head slowly. “There’s just no way. No way am I letting you do this.”
“Vogel knows what’s going on. We need him.”
“How many ways do you want me to demolish your line of thinking? First,” Fozzoli held up a slender forefinger and violently slapped it with his opposing forefinger, “you don’t know that Vogel knows anything. Second, even if he does, we don’t know if he will tell us anything. Third, even if you’re right and he will tell us all he knows, you don’t even know where he is now. Fourth, assuming that somehow you can find him, you’ll be attacked as soon as you show yourself to the vix priesthood, if not to the ordinary townsfolk.”
“What’s the alternative, Foz? Wait up here for something to happen?”
“Yes!” Fozzoli fairly shouted. “What’s the great rush? We have a lot of data to coordinate—who knows what we’ll come up with? The vix aren’t going anywhere.”
“I wonder.”
Fozzoli’s eyes narrowed, then his voice softened. “Look, Sirra, you and I have disagreed on a lot of stuff. You’re always pushing the limits, trying new things, getting yourself in trouble. I know that I’m cautious. I’d rather think something through than rush in. Maybe I’ve lost opportunities that way—I’ll never really know. But you’ve got to ask yourself—why do you really want to go back down there? Is it really because it will serve our research interests best?”
Sirra frowned. Fozzoli pressed his point harder.
“I’m sorry I have to say this. You’re an old woman, Sirra. Your career is almost over. Are you sure you just don’t want to make one last mark on the world, no matter the cost? Rather than leave the next generation to do it instead?”
“You think I’m that way, Abromo?”
“I’m not sure. But going back down to see the vix again…there’s no sense to it. Other risks you’ve taken at least had a sort of balance between risk and benefit. This, though…what can we gain from this that is worth risking your life?”
Sirra stared at him a long time. His moist eyes stared back at her, unreadable. Fozzoli had always been a loyal assistant—no, more than an assistant. A colleague. He was poised to make some astonishing discoveries of his own and make a name for himself in the scientific community. Could it be true that he was jealous? Was he trying to gently push her aside so that he might shine more brightly?
“You think I should stay up here with all of you youngsters and try to coordinate the data? You said it yourself, Foz—I’m an old woman. I’d just be in the way. Maybe you think I should just retire altogether, is that it?” As she spoke, she watched him carefully. He squirmed at her words but held his composure.
“I never said that. Your input has always been valuable. But maybe you don’t have the patience you once had, since you have so few years remaining in the field. Don’t throw away a fine and distinguished career in a moment of childish weakness. Let’s study the vix for a few months, and if we find we need further data, then we’ll go down and get it.”
“No, Foz. Something happened down there, and if we don’t get back there fast, I think the vix will….” She shook her head. “I’m not sure what they’ll do, but something’s coming. I can feel it.”
“You and your domed intuition.”
Sirra thrust her hands outward, palms up, in a deprecating gesture. “It comes with age, Foz.”
Fozzoli did not answer immediately. Sirra knew that he trusted her hunches almost as much as she did herself. She did not invoke her intuition often, and as a result, a statement that she was “feeling” something carried weight with the linguist.
“Then let me go instead. Or one of the other divers. The vix’re hunting you now.”
Sirra smiled inwardly at his change of tactics. “The vix don’t make much of a distinction between us, you know that.”
“A team, then. Armed. With the launch. No need to go in alone and unprotected.”
“I’ve thought of that, too. I don’t want to cause more of a disruption than necessary.”
“You mean, more than rewriting their entire religious philosophy?”
“Exactly.”
Fozzoli sighed. “Can I ask one thing first, since you are going to go and there’s little I can do to stop you?”
“Short of pulling a gun on me.”
“Oh, don’t think I haven’t thought of that. And I would have too, except that the weapons locker is locked and only holds tranq pistols and there’s only one person with the keycode and she’s a stubborn woman.”
“What was your question?”
“Did I say anything that even remotely changed your mind?”
Sirra laughed suddenly. The note of pleading in Fozzoli’s voice was comical.
“You got me angry with your old woman comments.”
“Yes, well, I’m sorry about that. I was just trying to—”
“It’s all right. But the two of us should know better than to debate one another. Two linguistics experts playing semantic and rhetorical games? What could be more pathetic?”
Fozzoli snorted. “I suppose you won’t object to my monitoring you?”
“Of course not. And have a diving team ready this time. I don’t want to wait around like I had to last time before you and the rest of the research team dragged their carcasses down to get my tired old body.”
“Sirra, I really didn’t mean what I said about your age. I just…well, I was trying to say anything to get you to reconsider.”
“I know. It’s all right.”
“No, I want to tell you. You’ve done more for the study of the vix than any other living person. Including Khadre. I expect you will continue to lead the field for the next…well, for quite a while.”
Sirra found herself welling up. She had dismissed Fozzoli’s remarks on her age as ploys to weaken her resolve, but even though Fozzoli had just confirmed that her intuition was correct, she was nevertheless relieved that he still held her in high esteem.
“That means a lot to me, Foz.” She hesitated briefly to allow her sincerity to sink in. “But before we start crying and painting each other’s toenails, I’ve got to get ready for the dive.”
Sirra checked her gauges again. The surface water temperature was as warm as it had been the last dive, but she still felt a chill as she settled down through the dive pool and swam under the lab.
“No vix in the vicinity down there, Sirra,” Fozzoli’s voice sounded in her ears.
“You’ve shut off active sonar?”
“Yes. We’re listening on passive only.”
Sirra nodded. She did not want any transmissions coming from the lab’s remote sensors below to inflame what she knew were already high tensions among the vix. Passive sonar had a much shorter range, and was limited in resolution as well, but she would be effectively silent.
“Passing nine hundred meters,” Sirra s
aid. “I’m going to go off communications at one thousand.”
“Acknowledged.”
The next hundred meters passed all too swiftly. “I’m switching off, Foz. Stay sharp up there.”
“Good luck, Sirra.”
Sirra turned off her transmitter and her sonar beacon. Fozzoli had suggested they reconfigure her suit’s communications to a higher frequency, but the modifications would have taken days, and Sirra had not been convinced that the vix could not sense the higher frequencies in the same fashion that some humans could sense dog whistles. She had opted for sonar silence instead. Fozzoli had extracted a solemn promise that if she found herself in trouble, she would reactivate her beacon. The lab would pick up her signal and come for her.
As she continued to descend, her own passive sonar began to pick up the conversations of nearby vix. Her suit lamp cast a dim glow a few meters ahead of her, which would provide her with a slight advantage in close range work, but she still was forced to rely on passive sonar for long range “seeing.”
At one thousand and sixty-six meters below the lab her suit’s speakers came to life.
“Speaker-From-Above. You should not have returned.”
Sirra did not need to glance at her HUD to know who the vix was.
“I’m glad to see you, Vogel.”
The vix swam into her sonar field. “The Crusaders remain vigilant. “
“But I found you first. Why are you so near the Above?”
“I do not fear it as the Crusaders do. The stories my father-by-actions told me drive me ever closer to the surface.”
In all her discussions with Vogel, he had never once mentioned his family. Sirra knew enough of vix family custom to know that a “father-by-action” was not a child’s biological father but one who raised the youngster, sometimes with the help of the mother, sometimes with the help of a mother-by-action, or even with community-parents. But children were never raised by a single parent, and rarely by only two. There were various gradations of intimacy in the words the vix had for family members—in this, the vix were not unlike the humans of the Family.