by Ben Bova
29
WORKING RELATIONSHIP
In the days that followed, while they awaited the first of the biological Gatanni to be constructed, Gatanni spheres and humans worked together closely, often side by side.
A full information exchange was still taking place, with the entire Gatanni voyage—from near the galaxy core up to Tsing—being made available to the Hundred Worlds. There were records of a thousand star systems, not just the ones that had been selected as life-supporting. The location of thousands more stellar objects, including nebulae, cometary bodies and rogue planets, even singularities that could be considered for potential wormhole transit points. Gareth Anmoore and Brendan coordinated efforts in this, seeing to it that the proper researchers received the information.
They disseminated the information carefully, almost always by hand-delivery to its intended recipient, to minimize the chances of it falling into Jephthah’s hands. But they were forced to admit that his methods of acquiring information were unknown, and that none of their efforts might be effective in limiting what he found out. In the meantime, however, the quarantine remained firmly in place, and was certainly more effective than anything that had been done to date. There had been no broadcasts; the Sarpan intercepted nothing. Lewis had even suggested that Jephthah might already be aware that they had discovered his means of redirecting addresses through the Sarpan, and was no longer even trying. Perhaps he was biding his time, Lewis speculated, waiting until he could somehow get something outside the jamming net for rebroadcast by associates in other systems.
But so far, there had been no attempt to run the blockade at the wormhole gate. And although a small ship might not be detected if it left the system without going through the gate, Tsing was so far away from human space that the idea of Jephthah escaping that way was almost immediately rejected—there would be no human contact for any ship traveling between Tsing and the next human world for many decades, with no means of rejuvenation available. “His leaving that way would do us a favor,” Lewis had said. “He would be so old when he arrived that no one would even remember him.”
All the same, every ship that had entered the system was accounted for. No ship was found leaving.
In return for the enormous amounts of invaluable information given by the Gatanni, Lewis had freely given them access to a great bulk of Imperial knowledge—history, science, technology, astronomy.
The Sarpan had done likewise. Adela had spoken about it personally to Captain Tra’tiss aboard the Cra Stuith, convincing him of the importance of this sharing.
Tra’tiss had requested that she be allowed to touch with his spawn, and had invited her into his personal chamber. Only once had she touched with a Sarpan: the scientist Oidar, who was now, according to Eric’s message to Lewis, on his way to rejoin his people. Like Oidar’s had been aboard the science ship where he had served with Templeton Rice, the water chamber on the Sarpan ship resembled as nearly as possible their homeworld. A mixture of lush plant life and marsh conditions, augmented by holographically reproduced details, the water chamber was as close to being on their planet as she had ever experienced.
It was hot and almost unbearably humid there, and she had been grateful for the E-suit Gareth Anmoore had given her. Leaving the bubble helmet at the edge of the pool that dominated the chamber, she had waded out toward where he huddled in the shallows with his spawn.
The heat hit her face like a wave, and she turned the E-suit’s thermostat lower, enjoying the cool rush of air escaping from the open collar ring.
Tra’tiss swam toward her, just below the surface like a terrestrial frog, his hands and arms swept back against his body while strong kicks from his legs carried him forward. Swimming up before her, he sat on the bottom and swirled his hands in a circular motion in the water at his waist. As she watched the splashing motion he made, she peered closer and noticed for the first time that he was surrounded by several tiny fishlike animals. They swam freely over and through the alien’s legs, occasionally wandering slightly away before hurriedly wriggling back to join the others.
“These are my male spawn,” he had said proudly. He reached for her hand and tugged at her gloves. “Can you remove these?”
Adela pulled off the gloves and tucked them out of the way into a loop on the suit.
“Now … like this.” Tra’tiss cupped his hands in demonstration, then scooped up one of the tiny swimmers and poured the tepid water and the tiny Sarpan spawn into Adela’s waiting hands.
The swimmer resembled the adult in many ways, although it still had a wide, flat tail and no rear legs yet. She could feel the slight pressure of the creature’s tiny hands as it pushed itself up in her palms and studied her, tilting its little head in a typical Sarpan mannerism. He was “touching,” learning something of her, although just what, she could not guess. It rubbed several times against her palms, then hopped into the water at her feet and wriggled back to rejoin the others at Tra’tiss’ side. They greeted him with a touching ritual of their own, swimming and bumping against him and each other.
“I am honored,” he had said, his face beaming as he watched his children pass on what they had received from her. “This one is most grateful.”
“Your ritual of touching,” she had said, “is your very being. It is a way of becoming closer, much as you have become closer to humans by sharing knowledge.”
Tra’tiss had understood perfectly, then, when she asked that he make Sarpan information available to the Gatanni.
30
LIAISON
The air was warm here at South Camp, and Tsing, directly overhead, warmed the three of them even further as they looked down on the dome. A strong breeze blew from the north, carrying with it a pleasant salty tang even though they were a considerable distance from the vast sea that lay over the horizon.
The three sat on rocks far up the slope of the ancient basin, and from here could watch the activity going on below them. Brendan had removed his formal academician’s tunic, just as Lewis had his officer’s jacket, and both were slung over a low branch of the tree that shaded their perch.
“This will probably be the last time we’ll be able to take this kind of break,” Adela said, eyes closed and head tilted back to better enjoy the gentle wind blowing through her hair. “With your father almost here, I expect it’ll be some time before any of us do much relaxing again.”
Lewis chuckled agreeably. “So this is what ‘relax’ means.”
She and Brendan both laughed at the remark, and as she thought about it, it occurred to her that this was the first time she had seen Lewis take a few minutes off from the hectic pace he had maintained in the long, difficult weeks they had been here.
“You call this relaxing?” Brendan asked, then pointed to the busy scene below. “I’m getting tired just watching them all down there.”
He was right: South Camp was a maelstrom of activity. As they watched, they could see the workers at the dig site, still trying to piece together some idea of what had happened to the Gatanni landing ship. Among the human workers at the site, they could see a dozen shining globes of various metallic hues, all of them glinting brilliantly in the sunlight. They worked alongside their human companions, examining whatever was found. From time to time there would be a flurry of movement as something interesting was uncovered in the dirt, followed by a rapid touch-separate-touch sequence before one of the spheres flitted back to the dome to pass on the new tidbit of information to the spheres working there.
At the dome, meanwhile, a steady flow of vehicular traffic came and went. The information they had gathered here on the planet, combined with the Gatanni’s perspective on the natives’ development, had given them an understanding of Tsing IV and its inhabitants far superior to any they might have obtained had they studied this world for years by themselves. With the spheres volunteering to covertly observe them, their social structure, language, rituals and customs, even their games and pastimes had been observed and recorded, without the
ir ever suspecting that their world was being visited.
Even the single Sarpan ship orbiting the planet had proven itself invaluable, occasionally sending an E-suited representative to the surface, who would take information back to the Cra Stuith for greater analysis, returning their findings and insights directly to the Imperial ships.
Adela reflected on what the cooperation had achieved, marveling at how smoothly things had gone, and at the same time she felt uncertain about the future. “We’re still no closer to finding him, you know,” she said, spoiling the light mood.
Neither man answered immediately.
“I’m so afraid he can still undo everything we’ve accomplished here.”
“I’m not concerned,” Lewis said, “for a reason that should be apparent. Look down there, and tell me what you see. You, too, Bren.”
“I follow you,” she replied before the academician could answer. “We’re all working together. You want me to see the cooperation among our species, don’t you? I agree: What’s happened here has truly been wonderful. But do you feel that this, in itself, can defuse what he’s done?” She shook her head, frowning. “I’m not so sure. Fear, as an emotion, is just too strong.”
“But he’s right,” Brendan added. “Grandmother, the two of us have talked a great deal about this, in anticipation of Father’s arrival. We feel that by emphasizing the relationship that has developed here, along with the incredible knowledge we’ve gained about what lies coreward on this spiral arm, we can counteract his lies.”
“But there are so many lies, so many things he’s blamed on the Sarpan. And now he’s categorized the Gatanni natives here as even worse.”
“But where is his proof?”
Lewis rose, and gazed out over the basin below. A hopper shuttle was approaching from the north, flying low over the treetops, and he followed its path as it settled on the newly constructed landing pad between the dome and dig site. A wheeled truck was waiting there to greet it as it touched down. “I agree with Bren,” he said, reaching up and pulling his jacket from the branch, then slung it over one shoulder. “Other than all his years of accusations, and one stolen recording that he’s presented woefully out of context, he has nothing.”
Adela looked up at him. “But how can you be certain that he hasn’t collected proof? He’s been here for weeks; he did obtain the airship recording, after all.”
“We’d better head back down. Looks like our company is here.” He slapped his brother on the shoulder, tossing him his tunic. The three of them started down the slope, carefully negotiating the uneven terrain. “Bren and I have talked about that, too, and we want to present something to Father. We’d like you to make it unanimous.”
“I’m listening.”
“We know you feel that the native Gatanni should be left alone—we’re all in agreement on that. We’re going to suggest that the systemwide quarantine remain in place even after our work here is settled.”
“And the planet?”
“Don’t worry,” Brendan said, walking around one of the larger bushes as they made their way down. “A presence will remain here. A permanent base can be set up on one of the moons. South Camp can continue in operation until the natives manage to cross the northern sea and reach this landmass, and then everything here will be moved up to the lunar base, and this area will be scoured clean, leaving no trace of our visit.”
Adela thought about it for several moments. “I was thinking something along those lines myself; in fact, Captain Anmoore had suggested the same thing some time back. He’s the one you want to run it, by the way.”
“I agree,” Lewis said. “He’s the best man for the job. Anyway, almost every ship here will leave, one at a time, with each person on board being given a level-one background check. Jephthah is on one of the ships here now, with an identity that may be working fine for him in this hectic situation, but it won’t hold up when the entire force of Imperial security sweeps through each individual ship before it leaves.” He chuckled as he concluded, “Of course, that’s going to take more than a few years.”
“Giving us even more time to present a positive case for what we’ve accomplished.” She nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got my support.”
“Good.” He pointed ahead of him at a shiny sphere coming up the slope at top speed. It was on them in moments.
“Hello,” it said excitedly in Adela’s voice. Ettalira—or rather, the fifth temporary sphere that had been created with her memory imprint—was very small now, barely half the size of a newly created Gatanni sphere. She would need to transfer herself to another one soon. “They’re here, and are anxious to meet you.” With that, she zipped away, flitting down the slope like a silent hummingbird.
Fifteen minutes later, they stood facing the hopper shuttle, their attire rebuttoned and smoothed down in all official protocol. She suspected that even Gareth Anmoore, who piloted the hopper shuttle personally down from Big One, would appear at the hatch momentarily in his captain’s jacket. Ettalira floated silently with the three of them.
Ringing the area behind them, meanwhile, was an excited crowd of onlookers, kept at a discreet distance by South Camp security. Everyone not on duty at the dome or dig site was here at the landing pad, and Adela suspected that more than a few of those in the ensemble had left their work uncompleted and sneaked away to be here for this. In the intervening space between them, a cloud of Gatanni spheres swirled and bobbed and touched with one another in excited anticipation.
Lewis lifted his handlink. “All right, Captain; I think everything’s set.”
The passenger hatch lowered and smoothly extended itself onto the paved surface of the pad, revealing Anmoore standing on the other side. He came down the short flight ot steps quickly, a puzzled, worried look on his features. Directly behind him floated a silver sphere that sped immediately around him to Ettalira, whereupon they touched and completely absorbed into each other like two soap bubbles. When the two had become one, the sphere was just slightly larger than a newly created one would be.
“Commander,” Anmoore said, nodding in greeting to the three of them. “Academician. Doctor.”
“I don’t understand,” Adela said, her eyes on the united sphere. “Why was another sphere made for Ettalira? I thought—”
“I’m sorry, this isn’t easy.” He stood before them on the pad, looking back up into the hopper. “They didn’t construct Gatanni. They made humans. I didn’t know until I actually picked them up at the prearranged transfer site.”
“What?” Lewis blurted. Brendan said nothing, and stared at Anmoore openmouthed. “And you didn’t think it wise to alert me?”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Anmoore stood his ground, straightening, and glared at him. “But do you think it would have been better to transmit something like this where it could be intercepted? Even a coded transmission?”
Lewis turned away and pressed a sequence of buttons on the handlink, whereupon the security personnel set about breaking up the crowd and sending as many of them as possible back to the dome and about their jobs. “You’re right, of course,” he said, turning back. “I regret my words of a moment ago.” Then, to Ettalira: “What is happening here?”
She drifted forward. “While the biologicals were being constructed,” she began, her words apologetic, apprehensive, “we had a great deal of time to study the wealth of information you’ve given us. We reached a consensus, back at Home, that Jephthah’s influence has been too great. We feared that our appearance would aggravate an already serious situation for the Hundred Worlds …” She paused. “As well as for our personal safety.”
“What is on the hopper shuttle then?” Adela asked, pointing up the steps. “Humans, or Gatanni?”
“They are both. And neither. While they are human in form, they have been imprinted with Gatanni memories and mannerisms. In such a way, they will be able to work closely with humans without causing undue resentment among those who would fear our alien form. Is this not a better, sa
fer way to proceed for now, for this first step? Perhaps later, when your Emperor has had a chance to meet with us and review the situation here, he may give his personal authority for us to construct living beings more closely resembling ourselves.”
“I suppose it will have to be acceptable for now.” Lewis let his breath out loudly, frowning. “And I suppose it’s better than constantly making new spheres every time one of you is used up.”
“Maybe this is better,” Brendan put in, eyebrows raised. He peered up into the open hatchway. “How many are there?”
“We constructed and imprinted four male humans, assuming that each of you would prefer a liaison designed specifically for you, taking into account your positions and functions, using genetic coding and DNA records from your medical files much in the way we construct adapted Gatanni. The imprinting is primarily Gatanni, but we have also seen to it that they received full knowledge of human ways and customs, much as I did when I touched with Adela. You will be able to interact with them as easily as you do with me. Perhaps even more easily, since each has been prepared individually.”
“I see,” Lewis said, putting a positive tone behind his words. “Well, let’s meet them.”
She flew into the hopper, reappearing almost immediately as the first of the Gatanni/humans started down the steps. He was of average height and build, with a tan complexion and wavy hair of light brown that hung shaggily over the collar of the standard-issue coveralls he had been given. Anmoore must have seen to that before they left Big One. He had a thick growth of beard that, like his hair, was in need of trimming. He smiled in greeting, and waved just a bit nervously as he descended the steps and eagerly shook their hands in turn once on the ground. His grip was firm, warm and distinctly human in nature. The nervousness seemed to dissipate quickly once he had been received, but he didn’t seem inclined to speak.