by Ben Bova
“If we trusted him,” Brandon said, “we’d be having dinner in his city, instead of here.”
Jordan said, “Bran, you and I have stayed at the city, we’ve partaken of Adri’s hospitality. No harmful effects. Nothing sinister.”
“It’s just too confoundingly pat,” Meek grumbled. “Too good to be true.”
Longyear and several others nodded.
“Harmon,” said Jordan gently, “perhaps you’re looking a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” Longyear muttered.
The robots glided into the room and began to place bowls of steaming soup before each person.
Jordan looked down the table at their suspicious faces. “Very well, you don’t trust Adri and his people. What do we do about it?”
Brandon replied instantly, “We try to find out as much as we can about them. Who they really are. Where they come from.”
“Adri says they were born here; they’re natives of this planet,” said Jordan.
“How can they be exactly like us?” Meek argued. “It’s beyond the realm of belief.”
Longyear countered, “They evolved on a planet just like Earth. Maybe it’s convergent evolution, or parallel evolution, if you want to call it that. I mean, this is the first really Earthlike planet we’ve found. Maybe wherever the conditions are the same, the results are the same, too. Inevitable.”
“I can’t believe that,” said Meek. “It goes against everything we know about biology. And statistics.”
“Maybe it doesn’t,” Longyear replied. “I mean, we have two examples of Earthlike environments and both of them have produced a human species.”
De Falla spoke up. “That’s another thing. How could this planet have survived the Pup’s explosions? How could it possibly bear any life at all?”
“Zadar told me that Sirius can’t be more than five hundred million years old,” Meek chimed in. “That’s not enough time for a planet to evolve such a complex biosphere.”
“Especially if the Pup went through a nova phase and showered this planet with lethal radiation,” said Meek.
Elyse said, “And this planet has no moon.”
“What does that have to do with it?” Jordan asked.
“Earth’s Moon acts as an anchor,” she explained. “It keeps our axis of rotation from tipping over too far. Without a big moon serving as an anchor, this planet should wobble wildly, its climate should swing back and forth every few tens of thousands of years.”
“Which would destabilize its ecosystems,” Longyear said. “Ice ages and global warmings, one right after another.”
“You see?” Meek said, almost triumphantly. “None of this adds up.”
Jordan raised both hands. “All right. All right. We have a lot of questions to be answered. But for the moment, let’s dig into this soup before it cools off.”
Meek dipped his spoon into the soup, then looked up and said, “We should set up a systematic investigation. Paul, you start examining the local plant and animal life. Sylvio, you and Elyse should dig into the geology, see if there’s evidence of damage from Sirius B’s nova explosions.”
Brandon said, “That’s my area, too.”
“Then you work with them.”
“And Zadar can compute the range of the planet’s axis shifts,” Elyse suggested.
Jordan said, “Good. Let’s put together an agenda for study. I’ll question Adri about his people’s history.”
“We should’ve brought a cultural anthropologist with us,” Brandon said.
“Who knew we’d need one?” said Thornberry, with a crafty grin.
Soon they were all firing questions back and forth, creating agendas, working out a map to be explored.
Jordan watched them at it while he quietly spooned up his soup. Hardly tasting the brew, he smiled inwardly. Now they’re working instead of fretting, he told himself. They’ve replaced their suspicions with curiosity. Good.
And he thought that he would like to ask Aditi several thousand questions about her people, her society, her customs, herself.
* * *
The following morning, Jordan dressed in his own clothes, which had been brought down from the orbiting ship along with everyone else’s. He could hear others coughing or splashing in the common lavatories. These partitions leave a lot to be desired as far as privacy is concerned, he thought.
He started for the dining area, but stopped at the open doorway to Brandon’s cubicle. His brother was sitting at his desk, his phone open on the desktop, long lists of words scrolling down the big flat screen affixed to the desk.
“Hard at work this early?” Jordan called from the corridor. “I’m impressed.”
Brandon looked up, the expression on his face dead serious.
“Come and look at this, Jordy.”
Jordan stepped through the doorway and went to his brother’s side. The screen showed lists of what seemed to be proper names, with definitions beside them.
“Elyse thought Adri’s name sounded vaguely familiar to her. She thought she’d heard it somewhere before. So this morning I started poking through our files on names from various cultures.”
“She thought she’d heard Adri’s name before? Back on Earth?” Jordan asked.
“Take a look.” Turning to the computer, he commanded, “Show name Adri.”
The words on the screen dissolved, replaced by Adri, and a definition:
Minor god in Hindu mythology who protected mankind and once rescued the sun from evil spirits who were trying to extinguish it. Modern Hindu name meaning “rock.”
Jordan blinked at the screen. “It must be a coincidence of some sort,” he murmured, trying to convince himself. “A wild coincidence.”
“Is it?” Brandon asked, his voice flat and hard. “Another coincidence? Aren’t these coincidences getting beyond the realm of belief?”
Jordan said nothing.
“A completely Earthlike planet. Peopled by creatures who are totally like us. Now one of them has a Hindu name. That’s way beyond coincidence, Jordy.”
“Look up Aditi,” Jordan said.
Brandon commanded the computer, and the screen instantly showed:
Aditi: Archaic mother goddess, Hindu (Vedic). Wife of Kasyapa or Brahma. Mother of rain god Indra, and of Hari and the Adityas. Perceived as a guardian goddess who brings prosperity and who can free her devotees from problems and clear away obstacles.
Jordan stared at the screen.
Brandon said, “That’s no coincidence, Jordy. None of this is a coincidence. It can’t be.”
EXAMINATION
Jordan called Meek and Thornberry to Brandon’s cubicle. They crowded the narrow space, bumping against the bed, the desk. There were no chairs; they had to stand and lean in behind Brandon. Once they looked at the names and their definitions, Meek said heatedly:
“I knew it. I knew it! They’re not what they claim to be. None of this is natural. It can’t be.”
Jordan shook his head as he sat on the unmade bed. “An entire planet made to exactly resemble Earth? It beggars the imagination.”
Thornberry shook his head. “Maybe what we’re seeing is an illusion. Maybe we’re being tricked.”
“How could that be?” Jordan demanded.
“How could any of this be?” Brandon countered, still seated at his desk.
Meek stood hemmed in by the desk, the expression on his face radiating suspicion. “Things are not what they seem,” he said, tapping the forefinger of his right hand into the palm of his left. “We’re being tricked. Hoodwinked.”
“But why?” Jordan asked, almost pleading. “Why would anyone go to all this trouble?”
“That’s what you’ve got to find out,” Meek said.
“Me?”
“You’re on friendly terms with this Adri person. You should confront him, tell him that we know he’s up to something.”
Jordan ran a hand through his silver hair. “I suppose so,” he said, relucta
ntly. To himself he added, I’m supposed to be the leader here. It’s time for me to lead.
* * *
As he started down the path toward Adri’s city, Jordan marveled again at how Earthlike the trees and shrubbery were. A squirrel-like creature scampered up one of the stately tall trees, a blur of gray fur. Then a dark buzzing little ball of purposeful energy, very much like a bee, zoomed past his ear, making him flinch. Birds glided through the foliage high above. Sunshine filtered through the forest canopy.
Meek and the others are right, Jordan thought. This is all too good to be true. Maybe it actually is an illusion, maybe Adri and his people have some way of reading our minds and then showing us what we want to see.
Suddenly Adri was on the path, walking slowly toward him, wearing his usual ankle-length grayish blue robe. Jordan noticed that it bore an intricate design, fine threads making delicate loops and curves.
“Good morning,” Jordan called to the alien.
“And a very pleasant good morning to you, friend Jordan,” said Adri, with a warm smile.
He seems so friendly, Jordan thought. So happy to see me.
“I was going to the city to find you,” said Jordan.
“I was going to your camp to find you,” Adri said.
“I have a lot of questions to ask you.”
Nodding, Adri said, “I’m sure you do. I hope I can answer them all to your satisfaction.”
They started walking side by side, through the rich green foliage and the warm dappled sunlight, toward the city. Adri reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a tiny creature, no bigger than the palm of his hand. He stroked its dark fur soothingly.
He noticed Jordan staring at the animal. “Pets can be a very good relaxation implement,” he said, almost apologetically.
Is he nervous? Jordan wondered. Worried?
“What is it that you want to know?” Adri asked.
“All this is not what it seems, is it?” Jordan began.
Adri blinked. “I don’t understand you.”
With a wide sweep of his arm, Jordan said, “This planet, your city, you yourselves … it’s all an illusion that you’re producing to make us feel comfortable about you.”
“Oh no. No, no, no,” Adri said, his voice soft but the expression on his face troubled, distressed. “I assure you, this is how I look. I’m as human as you are, truly.”
“It’s so very hard to accept.”
Smiling gently, Adri said, “I believe you have a saying, ‘What you see is what you get.’”
“How can you have exactly the same form as we do? It goes against everything we know.”
Adri’s smile widened slightly. “Then you are learning something new. That is progress, isn’t it?”
Jordan stopped and planted his fists on his hips. “Adri, my friend, I’m afraid that I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you.”
Adri stood in silence for a few heartbeats, stroking his furry pet, apparently thinking it over. “Would it help if I went back to your camp with you and allowed your people to examine me?”
Surprised by his offer, Jordan said, “Yes, I believe it would.”
“Then let’s do that, by all means.” Adri turned around and started heading for the camp.
Jordan caught up with him in a few strides and walked alongside the alien, who slid his pet back inside his robe.
“I appreciate your willingness to let us examine you,” Jordan said, almost apologetically.
Adri murmured, “Doubting Thomas.”
“From the Bible.”
“Yes.”
Suddenly embarrassed, Jordan stammered, “I … I don’t mean to call you … I mean, well, it’s only natural for us to doubt such coincidences.”
“You’ve been to so many worlds that you know that this one is anomalous,” Adri said, almost seriously.
“No, this is the first—” Then Jordan realized that Adri was bantering with him. He laughed and the two of them walked side by side back to the humans’ camp.
* * *
Adri patiently allowed Meek and Longyear to examine him. X-rays, magnetic resonance imaging, tissue samples, neutrino scans: all revealed a completely human body. Even his tiny pet, which Adri clutched in both hands through the examination, closely matched a species of miniature terrestrial prairie dog. Scans of Adri’s brain were strikingly similar to scans of the humans in the computer files.
The alien seemed to take all the prodding and scanning with good grace. He accepted lunch with Jordan, Brandon, and Elyse while Meek and Longyear studied the results of their tests. His furry pet remained hidden inside his robe.
“Aditi was asking about you,” Adri said as they sat in the dining room, munching on sandwiches.
Jordan felt his heart leap.
“About your name,” Brandon said, his face showing suspicion. “And hers.”
“They are from your Hindu culture,” Adri replied easily. “I’m afraid you would find our names, in our own language, impossible to pronounce.”
“We seem to have the same vocal equipment,” Brandon said, almost accusingly.
Adri acknowledged the point with a dip of his chin. “Yes, of course. But it would take you quite a bit of time to learn how to make the sounds we make quite naturally.”
“You learn your language in childhood, of course,” said Jordan.
“Of course,” Adri said.
They spent the afternoon in more examinations, more tests. Dr. Yamaguchi gave Adri a standard physical exam, testing his reflexes, muscular coordination, even his eyesight. Adri accepted it all with an accommodating smile. Through it all his little pet sat in a corner of Yamaguchi’s cubicle, silent and still, its bright eyes watching.
At last, late in the day, they had gone through every test they could think of.
“If there’s nothing more,” Adri told Jordan, “I should return to the city now.”
Jordan walked with him partway along the trail through the forest.
“You must come to the city tomorrow,” Adri said, once Jordan stopped. “Aditi would like to see you again.”
“I would very much like to see her,” Jordan heard himself admit.
With a smiling nod, Adri said, “Tomorrow, then. Perhaps you would be good enough to let our people examine you.”
Surprised, Jordan burst into laughter. “Certainly! Turnabout is fair play.”
Adri laughed too. Then he turned and started along the trail once more. “Until tomorrow, then,” he called to Jordan.
Once Jordan got back to the base he found Meek, Longyear, and Thornberry waiting for him at the entrance to the main shelter. They looked grim.
“Well,” said Jordan, “Adri’s as human as you or I, isn’t he?”
Meek said, “More than you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come with us,” said Meek.
They led Jordan to Longyear’s biology lab. The biologist called up the scans he had done on Adri’s DNA.
Jordan peered at the screen’s display. “It looks perfectly normal to me. Of course, I’m no expert—”
“It is perfectly normal,” said Longyear, almost in a growl. “That’s human DNA. From Earth.”
EARTH
Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.
FRIEDRICH WILHELM NIETZSCHE
WASHINGTON, D.C.
The president of the United States turned to the sweeping painting that covered one wall of the Oval Office and angrily called out: “Show Honolulu!”
The painting—portraits of all the presidents of the twentieth century, from Theodore Roosevelt to Bill Clinton—dissolved into an aerial camera’s view of a city devastated by an immense typhoon. Streets were flooded, roofs torn away, windows smashed, the line of luxury hotels along Waikiki Beach empty and dark while waves surged up the broad beach to smash through shattered glass partitions and into their lobbies.
The television’s sound was muted, but the president and his visitor both winced as if they could hear the roar of the waves, the howl of the wind, the crashing, ripping sounds of destruction.
“That’s my home,” said Kaholo Newton, from behind his gleaming broad desk. His voice choked with a mix of misery and anger, he added, “I grew up there, right there, in Waikiki. Now it’s all gone. All gone.”
“Mr. President,” said Felicia Ionescu, in a hushed voice, “I know there are many demands on you—”
“But you’re here to add one more, aren’t you?” Newton said, practically sneering at the woman.
The two of them were alone in the Oval Office: no aides, no secretaries, no one to record what they said. Kaholo Newton was a native Hawaiian, a small brown-skinned man with luxuriant thick dark hair and iron-hard eyes of ebony. He seldom got up from behind his desk when visitors arrived in the Oval Office: to do so would have revealed his diminutive stature. He was especially wary of standing in the presence of Ionescu, who towered over him.
“Mr. President,” Ionescu began again, “there are twelve men and women on the exploration team at New Earth. They are alone, farther from Earth than any human being has yet gone. They expect a backup mission to be sent to help them.”
President Newton scowled disdainfully. “Don’t try to con me, Felicia. We both know that those twelve people don’t expect any help from us. They volunteered for their mission, knowing they’d be completely on their own.”
“But we owe it to them—”
“Owe? We owe them?” the president fairly shouted. “What about the people of Honolulu? What about the people of Hawaii? What about my family, my mother and three sisters? They’re all missing!”
“I didn’t know,” Ionescu admitted, her voice low.
President Newton closed his eyes and pulled in a deep, calming breath. It was a technique he had used many times: give a visitor the impression that you are struggling masterfully to control yourself.
“What do the Chinese say about this backup mission?” he asked.
Ionescu squirmed slightly in her chair in front of the president’s desk. “They … they haven’t committed themselves, as yet. I believe they are waiting to see what the United States will do.”