by Ben Bova
“Could be,” Deirdre said.
Dorn and Yeager were still watching the real-time displays.
“They’re jabbering away at one another,” Yeager said. “Looks like a fireworks display.”
“Perhaps we should try to get their attention,” Dorn suggested. “Show them that we can communicate.”
“How?” Yeager demanded.
“Show them where we come from,” said Dorn. “Draw pictures of the planet, then the solar system. Point out that we come from Earth—”
“That wouldn’t make any sense to them,” Corvus objected. “They have no idea that they exist in a planet, I betcha. All they know is this enormous ocean.”
Deirdre said, “We could at least show them that we come from outside the ocean.”
Still looking doubtful, Corvus replied, “And how are you going to do that, Dee?”
She smiled tightly at him. “Let me draw something. Maybe I can get a visual image across to them.”
Yeager tapped a finger against the mission time line display on Dorn’s console. “We’re due to pop another data capsule in half an hour. How do you think they’ll react to that?”
KATHERINE WESTFALL
She was in misery, her stomach bloated, gas expelling itself in loud, obscene outbursts.
Her comfortably furnished bedroom had become a prison cell. I can’t let anyone see me like this, Katherine Westfall told herself for the hundredth time that hour. I’m a prisoner, an exile, until this horror passes—if it ever does.
She had ripped off her clothes and now wore nothing but a floor-length dressing gown of pure silk, pale dawn pink, decorated with muted oriental scenes of graceful gardens and languid women in kimonos.
She broke wind again, and ground her teeth at the shamefulness of it. The stench. If I ever get the chance to destroy Archer …
The phone chimed.
“Who’s calling?” she asked. The data bar at the bottom of the screen spelled out DR. GRANT ARCHER.
Westfall went to the desk and sat primly on its cushioned little chair. “Answer,” she said, huddling close to the screen so that the phone’s camera could see little more than her face and shoulders.
Archer’s dead-serious face filled the screen, strangely boyish despite the fringe of iron-gray beard.
“I’ve reviewed the data from their capsule,” he said without preamble. “They’ve definitely established meaningful contact. The leviathans communicate visually; they produce pictures on their flanks.”
“Congratulations,” Westfall said acidly.
“I thought you’d like to know.”
“Thank you.”
For a moment Archer fell silent. Then, “Actually, I called to ask you a question.”
“Did you?”
“Why?” Archer’s expression became almost pleading. “Why did you want to stop the mission so badly that you were willing to kill those four people?”
“You scientists have killed lots of people,” she said, all the old anger and hatred simmering anew inside her.
“People have died in the pursuit of knowledge, that’s true,” Archer admitted. “But we’ve never set out to deliberately murder anyone.”
“Those missions into the ocean. How many have been killed on them?”
Archer’s expression hardened. “I was on one of those missions. We stopped sending people down there for more than twenty years.”
“But you’ve started again.”
“On a much safer vessel. There are risks, of course, but now we—”
“You murdered my sister!” Westfall blurted.
“Your sister?”
“Elaine O’Hara. She was my sister.”
“Lane is dead?” He looked shocked by the news.
“She’s dead. She never recovered from that death ride you sent her on.”
“But I didn’t send her,” Archer said. “I was one of the crew, I wasn’t in command.”
“You would have sent her if you were in charge. You would have killed her.”
Archer seemed confused, unsure. “I … I had no idea she was your sister. I thought the world of Lane … we … she and I … she was a truly lovely woman.”
“And now she’s dead. Thanks to your pursuit of knowledge.” Westfall put a venomous accent on her last three words.
For long moments Archer was silent. At last he lifted his chin a notch and said, “I think you need help, Mrs. Westfall. I hope you seek psychiatric therapy.”
She allowed herself a cold, thin smile. “The last refuge of a scoundrel,” she said. Then she clicked off the connection.
THE SYMMETRY
The new Eldest showed how troubled it was about the invading alien with a display of pulsating greens and yellows. Since time immemorial we have lived with the Symmetry, it signaled. This alien creature is outside the Symmetry. It cannot be anything but a threat to our way of life.
Leviathan flashed back, It has not harmed us in any way. It saved our replicant and us from the darters—
That in itself is a violation of the Symmetry, two of the Elders glared simultaneously.
But why must we allow the darters to feed on us? Leviathan demanded. Why must we always follow the old ways?
That is the Symmetry, all five Elders replied in unison. We must all accept the Symmetry. Without the Symmetry we will be lost.
Leviathan began to reply, but then saw that the alien was trying to speak to them. Look! Leviathan flashed. The alien is signaling!
The Elders went dark. Leviathan realized that all five of them edged slightly closer to the alien, which was flashing pictures slowly, painfully slowly.
Leviathan had plenty of time to inspect the alien’s images and think about what they meant. It showed itself, an unmistakable small round object, attached to Leviathan, surrounded by the Elders. Then a confused series of images flickered from its rounded hide, changing so slowly that Leviathan wondered if the alien thought the Elders were unintelligent, dim-witted.
The alien pictured its encounter with Leviathan during its budding, and the fight with the darters. This could be mere mimicry, Leviathan thought, repeating what I showed to the Elders earlier.
But then the alien’s pictures showed it rising above Leviathan and the darters, upwards into the cold abyss from which it had come. The pictures became strange, unintelligible. The alien seemed to be showing other creatures, weird slim-snouted things with long thin flagella members that flapped slowly. And bulbous, many-colored things that seemed to hang motionless, hardly alive, with long sinuous tentacles dangling from their globular bodies.
Slowly, slowly, the pictures continued to change. The little round image of the alien rose above the strange creatures, through a smear of blurry colors, and then out into a darkness that was speckled with tiny points of white. As it rose, the blurred colors below it bent into a curve and the curve became another round thing, streaked with colors, while the alien itself became little more than a dot.
The alien went dark.
What does it mean? Leviathan asked.
It’s nonsense, replied one of the Elders. Senseless jibbering, the product of an unintelligent mind.
Perhaps not, signed the Eldest. Perhaps it is a different kind of mind, not unintelligent, but different.
But what does it mean? Leviathan repeated.
It is not of the Symmetry, signed the newest Elder, therefore it has no meaning. It has nothing to tell us. We should ignore it.
We can’t ignore it! Leviathan insisted. It is here. It exists.
It has no meaning, the Elder insisted.
It is not part of the Symmetry, signaled another. It will destroy the Symmetry if we pay any heed to it.
All the Elders went dark, fearful of the threat to the Symmetry. The alien bobbed on its tether, dark also.
Then Leviathan thought, What if the alien has come not to destroy the Symmetry, but to enlarge it?
* * *
“That’s the best I could do,” Deirdre said.
; “Looked good to me,” Corvus replied. “You showed them where we come from, showed them they live in a planet. Showed them that we come from outside their world.”
His eyes still fixed on the control console’s screens, Dorn said slowly, “I wonder if they can grasp that idea. It must be entirely foreign to them.”
Yeager said, “Well, they’re going to see something else that’s entirely new to them when we pop the next data capsule.”
Dorn nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would be best if we disconnected the DBS probe before we fire the capsule.”
“Yeah,” Corvus agreed. “I wouldn’t want to be tethered to that beast if it gets scared and decides to dive deeper.”
Deirdre nodded, but she said, “I’d like to show them what we look like.”
“You can show me what you look like anytime,” Yeager said, breaking into his old leering grin.
“Time line calls for data capsule launch in eight minutes,” Dorn said.
“Disconnect us first,” said Corvus.
“Disconnecting.”
* * *
The alien has removed its arm from you, the Eldest pictured.
Leviathan flashed a soft orange sign of agreement. It had hardly felt the alien’s attachment to its hide. The disengagement was even less noticeable. Leviathan saw that the alien remained in the midst of the Elders as its arm slowly withdrew into its spherical body. It is not trying to flee from us, it thought.
New pictures began to glow on the alien’s hide. Leviathan’s sensor parts focused on them while its brain tried to understand what the alien was showing.
First it showed the circle that Leviathan thought represented the alien itself. Then the circle grew larger and shapes took form inside it. Four strange shapes, elongated, with things like tentacles extending from their bodies. But they looked too thick and short to be tentacles. And there was a rounded knob at one end of each body.
What are they depicting? the Eldest asked.
None of the Elders replied; they were all studying the strange images.
Leviathan guessed, Those could be members of the alien’s body, like our own inner organ members.
But they seem to move about inside its body, one of the Elders pointed out.
Strange.
It is alien, Leviathan pictured. Of course it is strange.
The images inside the picture of the alien faded away. For maddeningly long moments the alien showed nothing but the circle representing its own body.
Has it nothing more to tell us? the Eldest asked.
The newest Elder signed, It’s not intelligent enough to show us anything meaningful.
Suddenly the alien’s imagery showed a tubular object leaving its body and speeding upward, toward the cold abyss above.
Leviathan immediately understood. It is telling us that it will dissociate!
The Eldest flared in blue distaste, Dissociate? Here, amongst us?
Revolting, flashed another of the Elders.
Obviously, signaled the Elder next to it, the alien is of a low mentality. Its ways are crude and disgusting.
It is alien, Leviathan insisted. Its ways are different from ours.
It is feeble-minded, signed the newest Elder. Slow and feeble-minded.
Leviathan countered, Then how is it that the alien has come into our realm? How could it be feeble-minded if it left its own region in the cold abyss above and came down here to find us?
DECISIONS
“Capsule launch in one minute,” Dorn called out.
Yeager said, “Better hang on tight. If those beasties out there start thrashing around we’re gonna get battered but good.”
“We’ve told them we’re going to launch the capsule,” Corvus said. “They won’t be frightened.”
“You hope,” Yeager snapped, as he wormed his feet firmly into the deck loops and wedged both hands against the overhead.
Deirdre reached for the handholds on her console, noting that Andy and Dorn were doing the same. Her arms felt heavy, weary; every movement she made caused the pain in her chest to flare hotly.
Dorn flexed his prosthetic hand slowly as he said, “Our life-support readouts are nearly touching the redlines. We’ll have to cut our mission short.”
“No,” Corvus snapped immediately. Even in the sound-deepening perfluorocarbon his voice was a high-pitched yelp. “We’re communicating with the leviathans! We’re talking with intelligent aliens!”
“Do we want to die down here?” Yeager growled.
“We haven’t hit any redlines yet, have we?” Deirdre asked. “Can’t we stay until we actually reach the limits?”
Dorn seemed to take a deep breath, then replied, “Capsule launch in thirty seconds.”
* * *
Leviathan watched the alien begin dissociating, but it was unlike any dissociation it had ever known or heard of. A solid chunk of the alien shot out of its body like a miniature darter, heading straight up toward the cold abyss above. Then—nothing. Leviathan waited with the Elders, but the alien did not detach any more of its members.
After a seeming eternity of waiting, the Eldest signaled, It merely separated one member.
And the member did not bud, pictured another of the Elders.
Does it understand that the Symmetry demands that we bud alone, away from the Kin?
And feed the darters, Leviathan thought; but it remained dark.
The alien apparently has some sense of decency, said the newest Elder. At least, the member it detached does. It goes off to bud alone, as is proper.
It fled away from us, flashed the Eldest.
Perhaps, Leviathan signed, it is frightened of us. Perhaps it is not budding. Perhaps it has merely sent one of its members back to its own realm.
For what purpose? asked the Eldest.
Leviathan hesitated before answering, knowing that the Elders would not be pleased at its thought. To tell them about the Kin, it answered at last. To tell its fellow aliens that we exist.
All five of the Elders glared hot white. Yes, Leviathan realized, that frightens them.
* * *
“Rest period for Dee and Max,” said Dorn.
Deirdre grimaced inwardly at the thought of feeding herself again through the port in her throat.
Yeager said, “Why don’t we just get the hell out of here? What can we accomplish by stooging around with these critters?”
“We’re talking with them!” Corvus fairly shouted. “We’re learning about them.”
“And getting sicker every minute,” Yeager countered. “I don’t know about you, pal, but my back is killing me. I feel like I’m two hundred years old and I’m carrying a six-hundred-kilo gorilla on my back.”
Hotly, Corvus said, “We came down here to communicate with the leviathans—”
“Which we’ve done. Now let’s haul ass and get back where we belong.”
“We belong here!”
“Even if it kills us?”
“We’re not dead yet, Max. Far from it.”
Dorn interjected, “Our physical condition is deteriorating. At the present rate we will not be able to stay at this depth for the scheduled length of the mission.”
Corvus glared at the cyborg. Deirdre could see anger smoldering in his normally placid eyes. And Yeager was staring defiantly at Corvus. Andy wants to communicate with them so badly, she thought. He’s willing to risk his own life for this. He’s willing to fight Max and even Dorn. I can’t let him carry this to the point where they’ll be enemies.
She reached out and touched Yeager’s shoulder. “Come on, Max. It’s dinnertime.”
Yeager blinked at her, then made a forced little grin. “Yeah. Let’s have the blue plate special.”
Deirdre saw some of the angry tension ease out of Andy’s body. Dorn looked slowly from Corvus to Yeager and then to Deirdre. He dipped his chin a bare centimeter at her and Deirdre understood that Dorn recognized what she had just defused.
* * *
The alien is dark,
signed the Eldest.
Leviathan signed, It told us that it would dissociate one member only, and that is what it has done.
Now it says nothing.
The newest Elder maintained, If it is intelligent, its intelligence must be of a low order. It has nothing to tell us; we should ignore it.
The Eldest disagreed: Its presence among us is a change in the Symmetry. We must protect ourselves against any disruption.
It seems peaceful enough, Leviathan signed. Even helpful, when it protected us against the darters.
But that is not part of the Symmetry! another of the Elders flashed in urgent blue. We have always faced the darters alone. The alien disrupts the Symmetry.
The alien enlarges the Symmetry, Leviathan countered. The alien shows us that our understanding of the Symmetry has been limited.
All of the Elders went dark, pondering this new thought. Leviathan waited, hoping that the alien would light up again and prove that it was intelligent—and beneficial.
At last the Eldest decided. It signed to Leviathan, You will take the alien to the edge of the Kin and remain there with it. Whatever it tells you, you will report through the Kin to us. Try to learn from it, but do not allow it to interfere with the Kin in any way.
Leviathan realized that the Eldest was choosing the wisest path, and flashed its agreement in muted tones of orange and yellow.
Then Leviathan wondered, How do I tell the alien what it must do?
TROUBLE
Deirdre awoke from her sleep period feeling far from rested. Her entire body felt sluggish, weary. The pain in her chest seemed worse than before, she thought, a hot throbbing that sent waves of agony through her whole body. It’s the pressure, she knew. We’re down deeper than we ever planned to be.
She saw that Max was still asleep, tucked into his cramped shelf like a corpse on a slab. His breathing was a labored gurgle, as if he were half strangling. Should I tell Dorn? Deirdre wondered. Max’s physical condition is displayed on the life-support readouts, she told herself. If he’s in any trouble Dorn would know it right away.