by Pam Uphoff
Prescott smiled at the tawny native. "Levty. That's very interesting. I notice that you are left handed. Is it a nick name? Lefty?"
"Yes, but part of my name also. If we are going to be formal, I am Carwell Lebonift. I am, roughly translated, an explorer scout in the army of the Kingdom of the West."
Jerkins perked up. "Kingdom? You have a king?"
"King Rebo Negue. He has just turned ninety years of age. His son, Crown Prince Leano handles most of the daily business of the kingdom, these days."
Lon scowled a bit. I would have liked to have known that before I reported. Or is it something they invented while I was gone?
Dudit, plucked a shirt from somewhere—had he washed it? That explained the bare chest—and walked up the hill buttoning it. The introductions passed around again, upscaled for the language improvements. Dydit Twicecutt. "I'm helping with some of the special logistics necessary for exploring over here." He explained blandly. "I'm not in the Army, but do acknowledge King Rebo as my liege."
"What does that mean, how does being a liege affect your life?" Farnsworth was all bright eyed.
"The king is my liege. I am his vassal. It means that ordinarily I do whatever I wish, unlike Levty who is always in the Army. When the King needs my particular abilities, he calls on me, knowing that I will come." The native gave them a charming smile. "In this case, because I am interested in exploring here, and Lefty is an old friend, I. . . umm, follow teared?"
"Volunteer. To offer to do something. Often for no recompense," Meyers offered.
"I volunteered. Yes."
"Dydit, you automatically follow our rules of grammar. I am curious about your native language, will you say all of that again, as you would have formerly?"
Dydit obliged with an almost understandable run of words.
Meyers lit up. "That is nearly perfect Old English. My dear fellow, we must talk." He grabbed the man by the arm and led him away, speaking gibberish himself.
"So, Lefty, tell us about the rest of your society . . . " The other three grabbed him and led him away too.
Lon watched them walk off. "Army scout. Bloody hell. And speaking of which, Ray? DONA will be coming soon. Leave the gate building open and the anchor on, in case they don't wait for the scheduled times. There's a complete cluster fuck going on over there at the moment, but the Gate Authority won't say why. Right now, lets get these astronomers out of here." He turned back to the other aspects of his job, which at the moment meant finding a good mountain for the astronomers.
The big hovercraft made transporting the scopes feasible, if still not easy. It could cross rivers, but a deep gully or oversized ditch would ground it. They'd have to take the heavy tractors as well, and hope that between all options they could get to where they needed to be. Especially with all the other equipment the astronomers had. They had more computational power than the rest of the departments combined, and a modular office and living quarters.
It took three trips and damn near half his fuel. The lack of native trees was a boon, minimal grading got them a passable route to the crest of the mountain they chose and they completed the move in just ten days.
Then the gate opened. Gate Authority troopers with tracking dogs came through first, blocked the whole arrival area while their dogs sniffed around, and then left without an explanation. Ray hustled the truckers and had them ready. As he'd hoped, the company had piggybacked on the troopers and sent supplies through early. The fuel truck came through, and two more gyps, the last one with a red flag. The empty tanker from last week was cleared to leave and the tractors that had carried the astronomers' gear followed. They'd better not try and charge the company for the government time.
He met Ray's exasperated gaze. "I hope someone knows when our next scheduled run is."
"Unless I'm mistaken, that's a mail bag the tanker driver is waving at us. Hopefully someone remembered that we need to be told about changes."
They walked over together and collected it.
"Yep. McCamey. I hope he's kept on top of this from Dallas." Lon headed for his computer, to play the chip, Ray on his heels.
It was just a collection of paperwork, catching up with him. An updated gate schedule. Permission to negotiate with the native government on behalf of the Company. And a quickly scrawled note. We may need you to return and take over the Twelve-seventeen fiasco. Meese has been heard cursing under his breath, something about 'should have listened to Hackathorne.' I'll give you as much warning as possible.
Chapter Ten
5 May 3477
Nowhereistan, Earth
Florian Hastenberg stared at the wall of the conference room in disbelief. The wallpaper was warped oddly, the surface of the gypsum board underneath wasn't quite smooth. The other side was even messier.
"It was like in a nightmare. I felt . . . agreeable, ready to do anything. I was aware of moving and talking. But I was doing what she wanted, I was sort of zoned out." He'd questioned people, been questioned and undergone an extensive and invasive medical exam. And he was deeply afraid.
Afraid of a person who could steal his will like that.
Afraid of what a world full of such people could do.
Afraid his job was in jeopardy.
And there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it, except cooperate fully, and find that damned spy.
Jetter looked up from his comp. "The two odd names came up blank, but a follow up on Nelson Manrique shows that he was hired by Dallas Dimensional last year. There was a gate to one of their worlds the morning of the twenty-eighth, about two hours after Never Ash escaped.
Florian suppressed a scream of frustration. Why didn't they just shut down the gate for a day?
Special Agent Greeson scowled. "We sent the dogs. They didn't react normally toward her, but they certainly did react. But we can't assume their current lack of response is proof that she didn't gate. The question is, was she deliberately misleading us, about where she came from? We'll check the Exstar mining world, and the labor world we thought they were from. And all the other Dallas Dimensional worlds. The rumors I hear from one of them could indicate on-going sabotage." He eyed Florian. "You will stay away from her. They may not be able to control everyone, just some suggestible people."
Florian's stomach knotted even tighter. I'm not even going to be allowed to redeem myself.
Chapter Eleven
May 18, 3477
Dallas Twelve fifty-three
"These unscheduled gates are starting to bother me." Lon watched the hastily assembled return line get under way. Symptom of a disaster that hasn't quite gone public yet?
Ray caught the mail bag the tanker driver tossed him and looked inside. "It looks like you are very popular."
Lon took the five envelopes. He could feel the chips inside. Board of Directors, McCamey, Simon Meese, Gate Authority, Jim. "Gee. Nothing from DONA?"
Ray snickered, sorting through the rest of the mail.
Lon looked over his shoulder. The two DONA field specialists were climbing out of a gyp with the DONA logo on the side. Lon walked over and introduced Ray.
Ray nodded affably. "You wouldn't happen to know what those dogs were all about, not to mention why the schedule's down the tubes?"
"They're hunting One World spies." Field Agent Jerold Hastings, the field agent frowned. "Apparently a couple of women infiltrated a worker training program. Either from Thousand Year or Tournay. The dogs were scent trackers, checking to see if they might have gotten back through the gate. They were checking every world the gate opened to, in the time frame when they might have slipped through, before they started checking more rigorously."
"One World." Lon bit his lip. "I showed you the genetic analysis of the two men and the kids. My people think these natives of ours may be Early Diaspora, perhaps pre WW Five genetically engineered experiments being dumped on a dangerous world. The One are genengineered as well; perhaps more than one world was used as a dumping ground."
First Contact Speci
alist Ivan Kolnavik pursed his lips. "The Science Division won't be much impressed by a private company's genetic studies, but we should keep in mind that your four could be Oners. Or from a similar history, or Oner-Native crosses, with or without knowledge of their origins. This could be quite interesting." His eyes had been scanning the small camp, and stopped at the drone runway.
Lon looked. The crew was getting ready to launch a drone, and Dydit, Lefty and the kids were right there in the thick of it. "C'mon."
" . . . like a kite, but with the motor instead of the string to pull the plane through the air."
Dydit nodded. He was flat on his belly with the kids, studying the wing surfaces. "Can you make them bigger? Big enough to carry a person?"
"Oh yes, the largest can carry over a hundred people and enough fuel to cross a continent without having to stop." Rae looked around and took in Lon and two strangers.
Naomi's voice crackled though the radio. "Enough flight school, I need to keep to a schedule."
Everyone backed away, the crew chief tapped buttons on her comp. The engine revved twice before the drone moved down the runway and lifted gently into the air.
"Dydit, Lefty, this is Jerold Hastings and Ivan Kolnavik. They are from the government office that deals with natives. Gentlemen, Lieutenant Carwell Lebonift and Dydit Twicecutt." Lon left the kids out of it, glad they were running off to watch the drone. We do not need DONA thinking they can use the kids.
They all shook hands, eyeing each other like dogs with territorial issues. Which is exactly what this is.
"Lieutenant?" Hastings frowned at Lefty.
"I'm a scout for the Kingdom of the West. Are you here to speak to our government on behalf of yours? I believe the term is ambassador?"
Kolnavik frowned. "We don't know enough about your people to send an ambassador. We don't know if your government covers more than a few tribes."
Dydit raised an eyebrow. "We are a kingdom of roughly a hundred million people, out of a world population of perhaps half a billion. If you wish to speak to the government of the most populous nation, we could introduce you to the Auralian ambassador to the Kingdom, and he could arrange for you to present yourselves to the Amma, their ruler." He studied the two men, obviously analyzing their non-verbal response.
The drone lifted off and slowly climbed to mapping altitude. The kids galloped back and openly studied the two agents' business suits.
Ivan was eyeing the kids with distaste. They picked up on his attitude and faced him, shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed. Lon fought down a sudden envy. Carol and I missed a chance to create something, someone, bright and beautiful like these two.
Hastings ignored the kids and concentrated on the adults. "I think an introduction to your King might be a good place to start. You'll all have to agree to some over-government that we can negotiate with."
"Why?" Lefty was blunt.
"Well, we aren't going to negotiate separately with hundreds of little chiefs."
"There are five nations. Only one is small, and it has a very large trading empire. The rest of us are not likely to surrender our sovereignty for the sake of trading with you." Lefty stared straight into Hastings eyes. "The advantage to quickly picking up the differences in dialect, is understanding all the arrogant assholes speaking over our heads. We are aware of your . . . habit of attacking and destroying governments and starving populations into submission. That is not going to happen here."
Dydit cut in. "We are leaving in three days for home. If you wish to see our country, meet our government, you may come with us." He crossed his arms and stared down at the DONA people.
Lon waited breathlessly for the DONA people's reply.
Hastings finally nodded, as if making up his mind. "There's no need to be antagonistic. While there have been misunderstandings between Earth and Native governments, we usually rub along quite well. We will consider your invitation."
They retreated then, to Lon's office.
"Tell us more about these genetic aberrations." Hastings sat down with a thump. "Your natives are . . . very interesting. I'm surprised their sense of superiority has survived exposure to your machines. Just medicine alone . . . What have you done for them?"
"Not a damn thing." Lon tapped BioSci box's number into his comm. "Rae? Can you and Dee please bring all your information on Lefty and Dydit to the conference room."
He loaded Jim's two reports, the second including the statistical likelihood of the One World and this world having both been colonized thirteen hundred years ago from a single genetically engineered source population. The likelihood of them being from two separate sources was very small. The possibility of their differences being a matter of genetic drift was much larger. His conclusion, therefore, was that near identical groups had colonized two worlds, one with an indigenous population, and one without.
Rae and Dee hustled in, and joined in reading the report, then added their own. "We need two hundred samples, not six, but our conclusions are that Lefty and Dydit are only weakly related, their mitochondrial DNA are from two separate lineages, both known on Earth. Lefty's Y is an Earth type. Dydit's is too, but it has an engineered gene inserted. Nelson grabbed the hair from a hairbrush in the wagon and we found two more genetic samples. One woman had the same engineered gene on both her X chromosomes, and a full set of the other engineered genes. The second woman was Rustle's mother—they have two completely new alleles on one X. The mother had one normal X and the daughter has both her engineered X and Dydit's engineered X. He is her father, and also Havi's father. The boy had, relative to Dydit, seventy-eight percent of the engineered genes. Oh, and a third mitochondria, also a common Earth one."
"Hair in the brush?"
Dee nodded, talking as she skimmed Jim's second report. "Nelson took them to check on their horses and pickup more clothes and so forth. He brought back a nice suite of samples. He's not as single minded as I thought. They've got excellent grains, domesticated fruit and vegetables. Now, what little One World data we have, or at any rate, that has been released so civilians and companies can study it, was quite distinctive. I think your friend Jim has the right idea. The Oners have interbred with human stock that split from Earth a bit over thirteen hundred years ago, and shows strong North African, Middle Eastern and Asian associations. This Jim Paulson fellow says there's an eighty-five percent overlap in the genetic engineering. With more samples, I'll bet we find the overlap even larger."
"So, why do we not think these people are Oners?" Ivan eyed the two women.
"Genetically, their suites of normal alleles look like a mixture of European, Northern Amerind, Sub-Saharan Africa, Asian, and Middle Eastern groupings. In roughly descending order; very typical North Merican twentieth through twenty-eighth centuries. This is opposite the Oner World samples, that are heavy on the Middle Eastern suites with almost no Northern Amerind. But beyond that, Lefty and Dydit showed no awareness of the danger of letting us gene type them. I don't think it occurred to them that we might identify them with a third, hostile, polity. It is a degree of naivety that points to their being innocent of knowledge of the One World."
"Or at least ignorance of modern medicine." Jerold Hastings nodded. "So, genetically, they have the engineering in common, but the normal genes aren't a match. Interesting. I think we should go study these people up close, and with a show of tech. We have all our comps and office setups in our gyp. We'll take that."
Rae and Dee were exchanging glares. Dee scowled. Rae beamed. "I am going, if I have to walk. And I really don't think we have to worry about taking diseases to them, neither Lefty's nor Dydit's immune systems reacted to the broad spectrum weakened vaccination. They were already able to take care of everything we could infect them with."
Lon nodded. "Good. I'll send my gyp, and there's a trailer we can load your equipment in, and extra fuel. You can use the gyp engine for a generator, or Ray may have something you could use instead. I expect the linguists and sociologists will want to go too."
Lon thought of the well tailored work clothes the natives wore, the perfectly round shell buttons, well made leather shoes. Dydit had a few traces of embroidery here and there on the nice clothing he'd retrieved from his wagon. Plastic beads weren't likely to impress deeply. Well, not his problem. He wondered briefly if he could justify going himself. Not a chance. But he could send Roxy with them, with a wide range of possible responses. She'd done the diplomacy course, and courier duty, for all she refused to be anything but a driver. She had more sense than Dr. Galina. And with the DONA people gone, they could do a thorough sampling of the bottom of the crater lake. Start getting some real numbers for their reserves estimate.
"Right, well, are you both going?"
"Oh yes. We go where the natives are. We have scheduled a gate for the fourth, ten hundred hours. I'll send messages to HQ and so forth. You can use it as needed."
Lon called the four linguists and sociologists and they hustled over to talk to the DONA pair. Lon lost the conversation as they dived into the evolution of languages. Lefty and Dydit had been more forthcoming with the sociologists about the various countries and governments. They had maps that were mixtures of drone overflights and hand drawn additions. They were labeled with the names of the towns and cities, and the national boundaries were roughly lined in. It looked like this Auralia comprised all of South America and well up into Mexico, with the uplifted Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico area split half and half with "Verona". Verona and the Kingdom of the West split to the west of halfway across the broadened North America, and Scoone filled in the northeast corner. The center of the continent was apparently a wasteland with conflicting claims of ownership.
Prescott tapped the center of the map. "Lefty and Dydit and some other friends of theirs have spent years mapping out there, and that's how they found the canyon through the ice pack. Has Nelson told you about it? It's a mid-continent spreading ridge, with active geysers and an occasional volcano that runs north to south up the continent. It sounds like there's a very good reason no body lives there."