The cabin’s air was growing warmer, and Thackery could envision the skin of the capsule glowing a cherry-red. As the air became more heated, so did Neale’s insistent calls. Blissfully, the ionization halo soon shut her out.
The blind fall was discomfiting. Though Thackery could imagine the lifepod beginning its intended spiraling descent, he could with equal ease envision it falling unchecked toward the ground. So this is what McShane and Koi feel. As anxious seconds ground by, Thackery found himself finally grateful for the company of Neale’s livid expostulations. How long, Thackery wondered—
And reached Sennifi. The roar of the precontact retros deafened him, and the impact of landing snapped his head sideways. Pain shot through his neck, and he bit down on the soft inside of his cheek. The lifepod was well padded and the harness holding him well designed, but Thackery nevertheless felt bruised from the inside, as though his bones had turned against the soft tissues they adjoined.
Maladroit in his eagerness, Thackery fumbled at the hatch release, and crawled out into the dust of a Maestri street. He looked up to a scene delineated by strong sunlight and sharp shadows.
It was a scene of stillness.
He was in the midst of the city, its buildings rising all around him. Their soft yellow color and rounded lines harmonized with the hills beyond the city, though the material from which they were made was neither earth nor rock. No curious faces peered at him. The street around the lifepod was empty.
Thackery struggled to his feet and called a greeting. It echoed back at him from the flat walls of far structures, but was not in any wise answered. On unsteady legs, he tottered off to find those who had fled at his carriage’s reckless approach.
He did not find them.
The longer he searched, the more he denied the obvious; the more the hurt grew. At last, he sank to his knees in a multi-tiered plaza, shaken by the truth. The city was deserted. He could not deny the fact. He could not fathom its meaning. How did they know what he was going to do—Where he would go—They couldn’t have known—
The drone of the ship’s gig as it settled on a high platform at one end of the plaza failed to penetrate to his consciousness. It was a quiet sound that brought him back—the sound of cloth, folds rubbing against each other and sweeping along the ground. Thackery turned and looked up, into the face of Z’lin Ton Drull.
“They were never here,” Thackery said.
“No.”
“And Rijala?”
“Only caretakers. We have a compulsion for order—it is part of our pretense that nothing has happened.” He extended a hand and helped Thackery to his feet. “Do you understand what you see?”
“I think what—but not why. You made us—and Tycho—think that your cities were full. Your population has collapsed, and you kept us from seeing it. But you said you weren’t afraid—”
“We are not afraid of you. We are afraid for you. You know the why as well. You asked why we wanted nothing of you. It is true that we did not wish to place ourselves in your debt, for you would have stayed till you thought it repaid. But my answer then was truthful.”
“You already had the answers to anything you might ask,” Thackery said with sudden insight.
Z’lin nodded. “We were curious, once. Our curiosity was satisfied.”
“How?”
“By whom,” Z’lin corrected, and began walking, out of the plaza and down a silent street. Momentarily stunned, Thackery hurried after him.
“I will answer your question now,” Z’lin continued. “The z’von is based upon the ultimate diameter of the Universe. The z’su is based upon its ultimate age. They are logical units, you will agree.”
The answer seemed to liquefy the bones in Thackery’s body. “What science can give you—”
“No science. The D’shanna are beyond science.” Z’lin stopped and closed his eyes. “The D’shanna are the sword that cut us, that opened the wound that never healed. In form, they are as amorphous as the lights one sees with the eyes tightly closed—and as undeniably real.” The Drull opened his eyes and began walking again. “They came five times, the last a hundred years ago. They destroyed everything we were, and made us everything we are.”
“But how?” Thackery’s dry throat turned his question into a rasping whisper.
“They answered our questions.”
Thackery grabbed Z’lin’s arm and spun him around so they faced each other. “What are you saying?”
“I am near the point at which I will answer no more questions, not even for such as you,” Z’lin said calmly. “But this much we owe you—that you understand us. The D’shanna are creatures of light and knowledge, acting in real time yet existing timelessly. In your language, these are contradictions and impossibilities. In the reality of the Universe, they are not.”
And then Z’lin smiled, sadly, self-critically. “We were bursting with pride when they came, Merritt Thackery, flush with the certainty of our greatness. We had only just completed the Tubes—had our lives in balance—were preparing to step beyond this planet. We were what you are—and they shamed us. Shamed us like the man who proudly calls on his neighbor to tell of the hut he has built, only to find his neighbor completing a mansion.
“They answered every question we asked of them. Like you, we made the mistake of asking too many.”
The picture was suddenly complete in Thackery’s mind: avoiding a future known in too much detail to be of interest, tending their slowly emptying cities, playing intellectual games and copying the art of a more vital past. Contact with the D’shanna had marked the Sennifi as clearly as a woodsman’s blade marks the side of a tree.
“Why did they do it?” Thackery asked. “Surely they knew—”..
Z’lin nodded, too proud to acknowledge his tear-filled eyes. “That was one question we did not know to ask until too late. But I believe I know the answer now.” He stared oddly at Thackery, wistful and angry in a single expression. “This is the end, Merritt Thackery. As I have already explained to your commander, we will accept no ambassadors, no membership in your community. You are welcome to try to explain to her why, but she will not believe you.” He turned and started to walk away.
“Wait!” Thackery said, leaping to block his path. “Why did you tell me?”
“Do you truly not know, or is it only that you do not know the words to name it?” Z’lin asked. “You bear their Mark, as deeply as we. We share the curse of having known them. Search your memory and you will know the time.”
The search was not a long one. Jupiter…
“What I have told you cannot harm you. Regrettably, it also cannot satisfy you. Perhaps if you search with sufficient vigor, you will find them.” Z’lin looked away. “For my part, I pray that you do not.”
With that, Z’lin Ton Drull turned and walked off down the sloping street, away from the plaza and into the heart of the dead city of Maostri. Thackery watched him for a long time: a man more alone than he seemed, and seeming terribly alone.
But for all his empathy, Thackery could not quell his growing excitement for long. For he knew what Z’lin Ton Drull had known, knew the reason for the moment of hate in the Sennifi leader’s eyes. The D’shanna had left their mark on the Sennifi deliberately, a living trail sign that Thackery could read more clearly than any, an invitation that only Thackery could grasp the import of. He turned away from the specter of Z’lin’s dying world and began to walk, first slowly, then briskly, back to the plaza, to the gig.
At long last, his search was over, and there was purpose. For somewhere, the D’shanna were waiting. And he would not disappoint them. y
Chapter 11
* * *
Alliance
The setting was different, but the sight was distressingly familiar. Once again, Thackery returned from the surface of a planet to find himself facing the questions and skepticism of an inquiry board. But there was one change Thackery found ominous: joining Neale and Rogen on the other side of the table was not Dunn, b
ut Cormican.
In the brief time Thackery had known him, Cormican had shown himself to be solid but unimaginative, a conservative ship’s captain who liked rules and order. Cormican would have little tolerance for the sort of free-lancing Thackery’s trip to the surface of Sennifi represented. Worse, the substitution meant that the only officer who seemed to understand all of Neale’s dimensions—and therefore the nearest thing to an ally Thackery might hope for on the board—was gone.
This time it’s you she wants, was Thackery’s grim thought as he took his seat.
Neale’s preamble showed that she, too, had taken note of the parallel. “Well, Merry,” she said. “You must like these little sessions, eh? You’re two for two now.”
“I’ve been privileged to be involved in two of the most unusual Contacts on the books,” Thackery said agreeably. Neale propped her chin on her folded hands. “You’ve certainly done your part to make them so, in any case.” There was no winning response to that, so Thackery made none.
“The board has read your report on your—excursion—to Sennifi,” Neale continued. “Some of what you said cries out for explanation. Some of what you left out demands explication.”
Neale had been rehearsing for the encounter, Thackery observed silendy; that sort of thing did not fall naturally off her tongue. “I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have, and to amend the report to make it more inclusive.”
“The answers will be welcome. The rest won’t be necessary. Those portions of your report that are relevant will be incorporated into the overall contact report.”
“I see.” And Thackery did see, very clearly. She not only wants you, she thinks she has you.
“Let’s begin with yesterday morning, in the conference room. You deviated from the Contact Interrogative Plan. Why?”
“The CIP hasn’t been producing any real results for weeks—”
“Oh? Had the Sennifi been uncooperative?”
“On the face of it, they were being very cooperative. That was the key to their strategy—”
“Z’lin Ton Drull disclosed their strategy to you?”
“Not in so many words. But it’s obvious in retrospect—”
“Let the board decide what’s obvious and what isn’t. You’re here to answer questions, not to make judgments.”
It’ll take more than interruptions to get me to blow up in front of the others, Thackery thought determinedly. “Dr. Koi and I had identified anomalies which I believed were potentially more profitable than continuing lockstep with the CIP—”
“Measurement systems and the evacuation of Rijala.”
“The presumed evacuation of Rijala,” Thackery corrected.
“And on whose authority did you take up those issues during yesterday’s session?”
“On my own as Contact Specialist. After the Commander removed herself from the conduct of the negotiations, I believed I was within my authority. The Commander might recall that she was the first to raise the possibility of modifying the CIP.” Thackery looked steadily at Neale, but his words were meant for the rest of the board.
“But you made no effort to confirm these ‘beliefs.’ ”
“No.”
“Nor did you rethink the wisdom of your decision when it became obvious that your manner of questioning and the questions themselves were disturbing the Sennifi.”
“That reaction was what I was most interested in.”
“Ah—then you intended all along to force the Sennifi to break oft negotiations.” She did not give Thackery a chance to defend himself, moving briskly to another question. “Now, according to your report Z’lin said the Sennifi system of measurement was based on”—she paused theatrically and glanced down at her notes, and a hint of sarcasm crept into her voice—“the ultimate age and diameter of the Universe?”
“Yes.”
“And you found that significant?”
“Yes. It’s consistent with the linguistic forms. And it tends—to support the rest of Z’lin’s account.”
“Did you trouble yourself to discuss this with Guerrieri?”
“Why should I have?” She smiled faintly. “He would have reminded you that his fellow astrophysisicts long ago determined that the Universe is open, without any ‘ultimate age’ or ‘ultimate diameter’. Perhaps you’re aware that Earth civilizations once used a calendar based on the years since the birth of Christ and a measuring system based on the length of an Egyptian carpenter’s forearm. Do you think those facts prove the existence of a Garden of Eden, or that the Pharoahs were gods? Your credulity would be heartwarming if you were a child, but you’re not.”
Neale was just warming up. “That goes for the rest of Z’lin’s little allegory, as well. I don’t have any trouble accepting that Z’lin told you what you report. I have trouble with how readily you apparently accept it. The one positive outcome of your little expedition was that it showed us what arational mystics the Sennifi are. You seem to have uncovered one falsehood one moment and swallowed an even bigger one the next.”
“The Sennifi were lying to protect us from an experience that debilitated their entire society.”
“That being Contact with these D’shanna.”
“Yes.”
“You have no evidence that they’re any more real than the angels and devils of our own mythology. What’s more, you can have no evidence.”
“The evidence is the Sennifi themselves. And what the D’shanna did to Sennifi, they may have done to Earth. If you’re looking to explain why the FC civilization disappeared, that possibility has to be given some consideration.”
Neale sat back in her chair and nodded her head sagely. “Now 1 think we begin to see why you’re so eager to have us believe Z’lin’s story. That would make you the author of the new paradigm, wouldn’t it? The Thackery Theorem topples the Mannheim Hypothesis from the throne—”
It was Thackery’s turn to interrupt. “Not everyone thinks the way you do. I’ve got no personal attachment to this idea.”
“No? Should I remind you that you were talking about second-species intervention a year ago, when we were outbound on Descartes? Tell me this, Merry. If we did believe you, what would you have us do?”
“Look for the D’shanna.”
“I see,” Neale said slowly. “You’d have us commit the precious resources of the Service to searching for beings which you cannot even demonstrate exist, much less tell us anything useful about. And in your defense all you can point to is the unimpeachable testimony of the Sennifi.”
Thackery said nothing. There was no point.
“As it happens, there are simpler and more sensible explanations available,” Neale said. “It seems that 2 Aquilae is a slightly variable star, now in the active part of a roughly thousand-year cycle. I’m assured that the hard radiation flux at the surface is sufficient to contribute synergistically to a decrease in fertility. Of course, the Sennifi’s naturalistic medicine offers them no means of understanding that, much less coping with it. So it’s no surprise that they evolved a face-saving explanation for their loss of virility.”
“Is that the explanation you intend to forward to the FC Committee and the Flight Office?” Thackery asked, scowling.
“It is.”
“Permission to file a minority report on the Contact.”
“Denied.”
And with that, it was over. Rogen and Cormican had not said a word—it was as if they were merely props for Neale’s little stage show. All that remained was to wait until the reviews appeared. And Thackery was more certain than he wanted to be about just how his performance had been received.
Outside, Koi was waiting for him. “How bad was the flaying?” she asked as they started downship together.
Thackery pursed his lips. “I’d say she took off about the first five layers of skin.”
“Ouch,” Koi said, and fell silent until they reached the privacy of Thackery’s cabin. “So she didn’t believe you.”
“She believed m
e. She didn’t believe Z’lin.”
Koi sighed expressively. “I thought as much.”
“What’s all this about radiation, anyway? You never mentioned it.”
“She didn’t get it from me,” Koi said defensively. “She called in the science team one by one last night and asked them if they had found anything that could account for a population decline on Sennifi.”
“So does it?”
“If that’s all you look at, yes. Look, it’s a little hot down’ there. Tycho picked up on it during their landing, too. Now, you can graph those two readings as two points on an upward curve, or as two slightly different peaks of a shorter cycle. If it were the first, we’d see a whole pattern of effects, one of which could be a decline in fertility. But that’s not what we see.”
“Didn’t you explain that to Neale?”
“She has a flexible standard for evidence. When she doesn’t want to be convinced, the standard is very high. When she’s eager to believe, the standard is low. I’m afraid nothing I could tell her would help your case.”
Thackery shook his head. “I guess I knew that without asking,” he said glumly. “1 was hoping that she was doing this as a way of appropriating the credit for herself.”
“I think you’ve presented her with something she’s not conceptually equipped to deal with.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I have to be generally sympathetic. I started you off on this. But she’s right. It’s just a story. Extraordinary claims—”
“—require extraordinary evidence. Yes, I know all that.” He paused and looked at the floor. “I also know that Z’lin’s story is at least essentially true.”
“Why?”
He hesitated before answering. “Because of something I didn’t put in the report. I think I had a brush with the D’shanna myself, ten years ago.”
“Tell me.”
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