Relic

by Alan Dean Foster

  “So, I’m back.” Turning, he gently freed himself from her embrace. “Abinahhs! I want you and your kind off my homeworld. I want you to know that I’ll be working toward that end.”

  The Vrizan gestured complacently. “And what of the Myssari? Do you wish them to leave this world as well? Or are you—exhibiting what I believe from my studies of the ancient human language is called ‘hypocrisy’—content to have them swarm here in numbers you wish to deny us?”

  “That’s a matter to decide in the future,” he shot back.

  Abinahhs was disappointed but not defeated. “By not you, or me, or any of the stone-faced triploids who now surround you with a perceptible air of greedy possessiveness. Until that decision is made, we will remain and continue with our proposed expansion here.” His gaze switched to the carefully watching Jih’hune. “Meanwhile the sexless one and the rest of his kind can stay, so long as their distant outpost makes no attempt to interfere with our progress and confines itself to work of a scientific nature. Whenever you find it unutterably boring, Ruslan, you and the female are welcome to visit us. With assurances you will be returned.”

  Unable to stay silent any longer, one of the armed Myssari started to speak. “The assurances of the Vrizan are not—” Set upon by those next to him, he was quickly silenced by wiser, more experienced comrades. Much as they might have shared his suppressed sentiments, they could not permit the speaker’s independent action. Scientists did not start wars with settlers.

  * * *

  —

  While his invaluable human charges were once more at ease in each other’s company, Jih’hune did not allow himself to relax until the transport once again set down safely within the perimeter that had been established by the Myssari around their expanding outpost. Kel’les was the first to greet his old human friend. Though the recovery sortie had been completely successful, it was a somber group who reported to the head of the expeditionary team.

  As a senior explorer who had commanded more than a dozen primary expeditions to other worlds, Sat’shan was in every sense of the term world-weary. Nothing in her long career had prepared her for the situation in which she now found herself. Seated at a recently activated command station within the second of the landing team’s completed buildings, she contemplated the mix of human and Myssari assembled before her. Her first question was not directed at the salvaged specimen, nor intended for his equally irreplaceable female companion, nor even the accompanying researchers who specialized in human studies.

  “Do you think they will try to mount a full-scale assault?” she asked her second-in-command directly.

  “They have weapons,” Jih’hune informed her, “but from what I observed they are modest and intended for defense against the indigenous dangerous lifeforms. I saw nothing of a military nature.”

  “From what you observed.” Sat’shan’s mind was working furiously: deliberating possibilities, making plans, considering and discarding options. “What about what you could not see?”

  “There is no reason for them to have a significant military presence here,” her adjutant insisted. “There is nothing to defend save vast expanses of empty land and numerous archeological sites. The latter are surely of interest, but hardly worth the outlay of a military commitment.”

  Unless one of your aims is to discover the workings of the most devastating biological weapon ever utilized in this arm of the galaxy. For now Ruslan chose to keep that information to himself. He did not wish to spark undue panic among the Myssari, much less do anything that might ignite an actual conflict.

  “You speak sense.” The outpost commander was in agreement. “If they wished to forcibly contest possession of the specimen Ruslan, they would have done so within the familiar confines of their settlement. Indeed, they likely would have tried to prevent your transport from landing. Your preliminary report describes their settlement as extensive.”

  Three arms gestured as one. “Even cursory scans suggest it is intended to provide permanent support for colonists numbering in the thousands. It is likely there are similar projects under way elsewhere on the planetary surface.” The intermet indicated the silent male human. “Ruslan says that the Vrizan plan to lodge a formal claim to possession of the planet and to develop it as a full-fledged colony.”

  “That is distressing. The Sectionary will be displeased.” Sharp yellow-orange eyes regarded both humans. “It would be natural for you to be distraught at this development. I can understand if not feel your pain. This is your ancestral homeworld.”

  Ruslan stepped forward. “I know it doesn’t make sense, logically. Our connection”—he nodded toward Cherpa—“to this world is only through history and sentiment. We were both born on other worlds. But the connection, however tenuous, exists. It is there, in our minds and in our hearts. Is there anything short of war the Combine can do to stop the Vrizan from turning Earth into a colony of theirs?”

  “Their claim can of course be contested. Jih’hune says that the Vrizan offered the pair of you an entire continent to develop as your own. Doubtless they feel by the time you could reproduce sufficiently to populate even a small community, they will have expanded across the rest of the planetary surface to a degree that would render any future claims by a resurgent humankind pointless. It is plain they do not know about the reproductive program for your kind that has begun on Myssar. Human reproduction by natural methods is slow, it is true. The Sectionary’s program will produce offspring far faster.”

  She almost added, “than you two,” but caught herself. It was widely known that while they demonstrated varying degrees of affection toward one another, the two human specimens before her had declined to engage in actual reproductive activity. Myssari cultural sensitivity demanded that the subject be avoided unless mention of it otherwise proved necessary.

  “The program, under your supervision, will grow the human population of Earth far faster than the Vrizan realize. Whether it will grow fast enough to deter them from their own plans only future developments can answer.”

  Cherpa had been silent long enough. “It would improve the prospect if you’d kill the lot of them.”

  Taking the junior specimen’s comparative youth into consideration, Sat’shan leavened her reply with characteristic politeness.

  “You are impulsive. A deeply rooted human trait that has not always stood your species in good stead. The Combine would never agree to go to war with the Vrizan over a world to which their adversaries have a prior and better claim. In the name of science, not affairs of state, the Sectionary will do all it can to support the regeneration and repatriation of your species here. But there will be no fighting. Too many worlds full of life clamor for support to risk skirmishing over one that reeks of death. You will have to fight the plans of the Vrizan with ethics and argument.”

  Cherpa muttered under her breath, “I’d rather have a lot of guns.”

  Sat’shan was not moved. “We will go through the steps of contesting the Vrizan claim via diplomatic channels. It may slow but likely will not halt their work here. Perhaps they may find it unworthy of extensive investment. History is spotted with instances of one species laying claim to a world not in order to develop it for themselves but simply to deny it to others. We will see if that is how they feel about your Earth.” She turned away from Cherpa and looked at Ruslan.

  “I am glad you are safely returned to us, Ruslan. Kel’les will, as always, see to your needs and those of your companion. I request only that you engage in no additional unescorted jaunts, no matter how tempting the surroundings. If you wish to explore further, a driftec and driver will be put at your disposal. I am sure Bac’cul, Cor’rin, and the rest of the scientific detachment will be more than pleased to accompany you on any excursions you care to propose. Now, if you will all excuse me, I have an outpost to organize and complex communications to prepare for transmission.”

  Outs
ide, Cherpa walked alongside Ruslan as they made their way toward the portion of the residential quarters that had been allotted to them. “What do you think, Bogo? Can anything stop the settlers from making Earth a colony of Vriza? Can we?” She looked outward, toward the silent abandoned city. “Can our offspring?”

  Lost in thought, Ruslan didn’t reply immediately. Pondering her queries, he realized he did not know the answers. But one thing he did know. For some time now he had grown bored with existence. His mind was tired, his body was worn, his spirit was exhausted. Now, here on Earth, he felt rejuvenated. For that he had the Vrizan to thank. They had offered him a continent but they had given him something far more vital.

  A cause.

  18

  Notwithstanding the Vrizan’s promise not to intervene in any efforts Ruslan made to establish a revived human presence on Earth, he and Cherpa as well as the administering Myssari were convinced that the long-headed claimants to humankind’s homeworld continued to monitor their every move at the growing outpost. While far smaller than the Vrizan settlement Ruslan had been “encouraged” to visit, the new Myssari base grew steadily as the Combine government contributed increasing resources to its expansion.

  Whether Vrizan monitoring instrumentation was sensitive enough to detect the presence of human children at the outpost was the subject of some debate among Myssari scientists. If so, no comment was forthcoming. While every effort was made to keep the youthful human arrivals from Myssar under cover, Cherpa was unwilling to restrict them to what would have amounted to a closed environment. Earth was their homeworld, too, and they deserved to be allowed to experience its surface, sights, and sounds.

  The presence of a dozen or so humans of any size was unlikely to cause the Vrizan much concern. Not when balanced against the presence of several thousand of their own already established colonists. Once placed in orbit, high-resolution Myssari scanners had soon confirmed the presence of half a dozen other Vrizan settlement sites in various stages of construction. By the time the Myssari human reproduction program succeeded in producing a hundred adult humans, the Vrizan and their claim to Earth would be far too deeply established to contest. They would own the place by right of development. Half a world away, an agricultural footprint had already been established in a second northern continent. Low-level industrial development was sure to follow. Though a vanished humankind had done its best, it still had only managed to make use of the most accessible of the planet’s resources. Much remained for a high-tech civilization like the Vrizan to exploit.

  Ruslan knew they had to contest the Vrizan claim. If it was too late for him and Cherpa, there had to be a way for their engineered offspring to reclaim ownership of the homeworld. He never missed an opportunity to push the Myssari to take a firmer stand against the wide-headed interlopers. But while the scientists and researchers who came and went at the outpost were of similar mind, the government of the Combine was forced to consider issues of far greater import. Certainly Earth was a pleasant world and the reestablishment of its dominant sentient species a matter of great scientific interest. Determining its ownership, however, was not something for which the Myssari were willing to go to war.

  The situation was made more difficult because the General Science Sectionary absolutely refused to send every young human to join the outpost. Having invested so much in starting to resurrect the human species, its members were not about to risk everything they had worked for by exposing all the offspring to potential hostile action on the part of the Vrizan. So some were sent to Earth while others remained on Myssar. Occasionally the children were allowed to exchange places. But the spatial dichotomy remained.

  While not as large as some settled oxygen-atmosphere planets, Earth was more than expansive enough to allow both Vrizan and Myssari scientific teams to explore at their leisure without ever encountering each other. At once frustrated and energized by the course events were taking, Ruslan tried to divert his thoughts by joining the Myssari researchers whenever they chose to explore another new corner of the globe.

  Such excursions were inevitably satisfactory without being revelatory. The empty, decaying cities were always interesting to explore, especially those that predated the era of stellar expansions. Orbital surveys revealed the most interesting sites. Of course, the Vrizan had access to equivalent search technology. Though he’d had no personal contact with humankind’s lost civilizations other than what he had acquired since his arrival, the thought of the Vrizan picking through the vestiges of human society and carrying off whatever they liked for study elsewhere created a permanent discomfort he was unable to shake off. That their Myssari counterparts were equally avaricious when it came to the possessive study of human relics was no consolation.

  When accompanying these expeditions, he took the opportunity to examine any newly unearthed artifacts himself. Cherpa was less interested. She often chose to remain behind with the children, devoting more and more of her time to them. It was gratifying to see that her new domestic avocation had in no way muted her individuality, though working with the children did succeed in filing off the sharp edges of her personality that had once been defined as madness.

  When Jih’hune caught up with Ruslan near the outpost perimeter, there was no reason to think that the assistant outpost commander brought with him anything other than ordinary news. Watching rainbow-hued fish describing lazy arcs within the crystal-clear stream that marked the outpost’s northern boundary while soaking up the warmth of the original Sol, Ruslan was not really in the mood to go out on yet another expedition to help excited Myssari researchers plow through the fascinating but frequently repetitive detritus of human civilization.

  What Jih’hune told him soon changed his mind.

  “We have come across an interesting anomaly.”

  With a sigh of resignation Ruslan turned away from the dancing fish. A small component of humankind had made a terrible mistake in concocting and releasing the Aura Malignance. Their only saving grace was that it affected only humans. We all swim in our own little universe, he thought. He wrenched his attention back to reality.

  “I suppose I’m as interested as anyone in anomalies. What does this particular one involve?”

  “As is normal when exploring a new world—or in the case of your Earth, a new old world—as many scanning instruments as possible are put into orbit subsequent to the initial landing. These have been sending back data ever since our first days on the surface. Enough are in place so that our researchers can begin to pick out the most interesting sites for investigation. One such location appears to exist far to the northwest of here, on the edge of the main continental mass. In itself it is unexceptional. However, it appears to be the locus of a series of weak, intermittent electronic emissions.”

  “Emissions?” The last dreams of chromatic swimmers faded from Ruslan’s thoughts. “What kind of emissions? Automated, certainly.”

  “Of course. That much is immediately apparent. The high variability of their intermittency suggests the broadcast source is running out of power, or perhaps is failing due to lack of maintenance. That they emanate from this one otherwise undistinguished location is intriguing. Enough so that Bac’cul will be given charge of the on-site scouting party himself. There is no evidence that the Vrizan, who have tended to focus their development and exploration efforts on prime agricultural land or major urban sites, have been active in the indicated area. As near as our orbiters can tell, it is so far unvisited. Of course, there may be a good reason for that. There may simply be nothing of interest there to see.” Small intense eyes met those of the human.

  “On the assumption that there just may be an unusual artifact or two at the locale, I am requested by Sat’shan to ask that both you and the female specimen join the expedition. Once a preliminary survey of the site has been compiled, it is likely that your presence will not be requested on future visits, assuming any are forthcoming.” />
  This was normal procedure, Ruslan knew. Have one or both of the adult humans along on a first visit to any particularly interesting new archeological location. Set them free to identify and explain any relics new to Myssari science. Then return them to their principal task of supervising the progress of the younger specimens. The routine was familiar. But this business of a flickering electronic emission was something different.

  “Of course I’ll go. I’m sure Cherpa will, too.” As Jih’hune pivoted to leave, Ruslan put out a hand to forestall him. “One more thing. If this is a new development, maybe the last remnant of an old broadcasting system or some such, I’d still expect that the Vrizan would have been all over and through it by now.”

  “One would, considering how much longer they have been here.” Jih’hune did not dispute the human’s observation. “However, they are so intent on developing and expanding their settlements that it is likely they have diverted resources which otherwise would have been employed in the service of pure science. If orbiters are occupied hunting for ore deposits or exceptional agricultural sites or the ruins of the most impressive ancient cities, something like a few intermittent electronic indications might well be overlooked, or filed away for future examination, or relegated to the realm of the not immediately cost-effective. That is not to say they are unaware of the frail transmission: only that if so, our scan from orbit shows no sign of there having been a Vrizan visitation.” He pondered. “There is probably nothing to it. A relay point of some kind, perhaps, or a portion of an early meteorological prediction system. You have no notion of what such an emission might signify?”

  Ruslan shook his head, a human gesture with which any Myssari researcher was by now fully familiar. “Not a clue. But I suppose it might be worth a quick visit.”

  “If nothing else,” Jih’hune continued, “the locus lies in an area we have not yet explored. The ruins of many major human conurbations lie comparatively close by, which further suggests that this may have something to do with an early human form of communication. No human city of size lies farther north than this site. The climatological zone from which the emission arises is not one favored by your kind.”