by Timothy Zahn
Across at his station, Sprenkle caught Faraday's eye. "He's leading the witness," he murmured. "That's significant."
Faraday nodded. And the precise significance of it wasn't hard to guess. "You seem to already know what's going on, Manta," he suggested. "Why don't you save us a lot of time and just tell us?"
There was a short pause. Then, a little hesitantly, the tonals began rumbling again. "Many types of plants and animals are disappearing from Centerline," the translation came. "Yet most of them are only brothers of those still here."
"Brothers?" Milligan asked under his breath.
"Variants," Beach told him.
"It's my belief that all the light-parts from Jupiter's center have decreased," Manta continued. "Without it, the tiny flips cannot function, and so the brothers stop being born."
"Interesting," Sprenkle murmured. "Mutation as a daily way of life."
"Strictly speaking, it's not mutation," McCollum corrected. "The genetic material is already there and in place, just waiting to be used. All the radiation is doing is turning different parts of the code on and off."
"Right," Milligan agreed. "Sites one through one million get turned on, you get a Vuuka. Sites one million through two million get turned on instead, and you get... something else, I guess."
"It's a novel approach to species diversity, anyway," Faraday commented thoughtfully. "The lowered radiation level should be easy enough to confirm from up here, if it's really happening. You say it's only affecting the Centerline regions, Manta?"
"Yes," Manta said.
"Mm," Faraday murmured. "You have any idea what might have caused it?"
There was another pause. "He knows, all right," Sprenkle murmured. "But he's afraid to tell us."
Faraday nodded. Afraid to show weakness, to put himself and the Qanska in a more vulnerable bargaining position. After the Omega Probe disaster, he couldn't really blame him. "If it'll help, Manta," he said, "you have my personal word that we'll do everything we can to help you and your people. Whether we get the stardrive or not."
At the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw Hesse stir. "A comment, Mr. Hesse?" he invited.
"I don't think Arbiter Liadof would be very happy if she heard you making promises like that," Hesse said carefully, jerking his head back toward where Liadof was standing. "Don't forget the, uh, the situation."
Faraday looked over at Liadof. Hesse was right; she didn't look very happy at all. "I remember the situation quite well, thank you," Faraday said, to both of them. "My promise still stands. Manta? We're listening."
"There's a region of the atmosphere called Level Eight," Manta said. "It's an area that can only be reached by those who have grown old enough and large enough to be called the Wise. There are no predators or scavengers in Level Eight, and a Qanska can live there as long as he can swim and find food."
"Sounds like the Garden of Eden," Beach commented.
"To the Qanska, it is," Manta agreed. "But like Eden, it carries within it the seeds of its own destruction. As I said, there are no predators or scavengers to bother the Qanska there. What then happens to one of the Wise when he dies?"
The techs looked uncertainly at each other. "Ms. McCollum?" Faraday invited. "You're the resident expert."
"Thanks, Colonel," McCollum said dryly. "Well, the first thing that happens is that they stop breathing and swimming. Their muscles relax, which collapses their buoyancy sacs—"
"They sink," Sprenkle said suddenly. "They sink deeper into the atmosphere."
"And their bodies block the radiation," Beach said. "Sure."
"Manta, is that it?" Faraday asked. "Is that what's happening?"
"But there can't be that many bodies down there," Milligan objected. "I mean, they've only been on Jupiter for twenty or thirty years."
"Not true," Manta said. "I'm told it's been two thousand human suncycles since the first of the Wise arrived."
Milligan whistled softly. "They did a good job of hiding, didn't they?"
"Or we just did a lousy job of looking," McCollum countered. "Colonel, we'd have to do a numerical analysis; but if they've been on Jupiter that long, there could very well be enough dead bodies down there to block the radiation. Enough to mess up these gene triggers, anyway."
"Especially since most of them congregate in the equatorial regions to begin with," Sprenkle pointed out. "The vast majority of the bodies will end up floating in that same narrow band."
"Seems reasonable," Faraday agreed. "Manta, do you have any idea how deep this blocking layer is?"
"No," Manta said. "Counselor Latranesto has spoken with some of the Wise, and they've sent word all across Jupiter along the special speaking layer of Level Eight. So far, no one seems to know."
"Probably can't get down there until you're dead," McCollum said. "You can only collapse those buoyancy sacs so far on your own."
"A living Qanska would need a scuba diver's weight set," Sprenkle added. "Even then, the pressure might kill him."
"You understand our dilemma," Manta said. "If we can't reach that region, there's no possibility of solving the problem ourselves."
Faraday grimaced. He should have ordered Liadof out of the room, kicked her out by force if necessary. Now, it was too late. She'd heard Manta's confession, and knew the Five Hundred were in the driver's seat on this. "I'm sure we can do something to help," he said. "Mr. Milligan, pull up the specs on the various probes we've got on the station. I want to know which ones can go the deepest."
"Right," Milligan said, turning to his keyboard. "We might have to do some redesigning, though."
"We'll do whatever we have to," Faraday said firmly. "Manta, have you had any ideas as to how we might be able to break up this logjam, assuming we can get to it?"
"I was thinking of the probe that was used against our children," Manta said. "If we can move enough of the bodies out of the way, the radiation will be free to come through again."
"Sounds like a pretty slow process," Faraday said doubtfully. "Besides, won't they just rearrange themselves to fill in the gap?"
"And where do we put the ones we pull out?" Sprenkle added. "Haul them all the way to the polar regions?"
Faraday looked suddenly across at Hesse, gazing quietly at the displays. The polar regions?
"They wouldn't have to be taken that far," Manta said. "Just somewhere away from Centerline."
"There may be a faster approach," Faraday said, watching Hesse closely. So far the younger man didn't seem to have picked up on Faraday's line of thought. Had Liadof? "Possibly a way to clear away some of the bodies and stimulate these trigger genes at the same time."
And then, suddenly, Hesse got it. He twisted his head toward Faraday, his eyes wide. "You mean... the nukes?"
"Nukes?" Sprenkle echoed, as four heads turned in unison to look at Hesse.
"What nukes?" Milligan demanded.
Glancing around, Faraday saw Liadof starting across the room toward him, her face a dark shade of red. He waved her back, baring his teeth in warning. If Manta found out he'd lied about her being out of the room, they could kiss these negotiations good-bye.
For a wonder, she got the message. Her hands balled into fists, but she reluctantly nodded.
But instead of returning to the door, she stepped over to Hesse. Wrapping one hand around his neck, she began murmuring into his ear.
"We have a pair of half-gig weapons on the way here," Faraday explained to the others, fighting to keep his mind on his train of thought as he watched Liadof and Hesse whispering together. "Arbiter Liadof planned to set them off in the polar regions in order to create a global pattern of sonic shock waves that would show where the Qanskan stardrive is located. I think I can persuade her that she can put them to better use breaking up your logjam."
He paused for effect. "Provided, of course, that there's no longer any reason for us to have to go hunting for the stardrive."
"And if I may add, Mr. Raimey, we've fulfilled our part of the bargain," Hesse spoke up. "Or at least we
know how to do so. It's your turn to give us something."
Manta seemed to take a long time to think that one over. "I cannot give you a stardrive to study," he said at last. "But after you have broken the barrier and we can see that full life has returned to Centerline, we will take you to the path between worlds."
"How do we know you'll keep your promise?" Hesse asked. "What guarantees do you offer?"
"What guarantees do you want?" Manta countered.
Liadof whispered in Hesse's ear again. Hesse jerked, staring at her in disbelief. Liadof gestured imperiously toward the displays; with a grimace, Hesse nodded. "We want to hold some hostages," he said, the words coming out like pulled teeth. "Specifically, your friends Pranlo and Drusni." He took a deep breath. "And their children."
"No!" Faraday snapped, jumping to his feet. "Not a chance."
Liadof gestured again. "That's our price," Hesse said with a sigh. "If you want our help—"
"Excuse us, Manta," Faraday cut him off, teeth clenched together. "We need to have a conversation up here. And you probably need to find some food and then get some sleep. Can you return to the probe at sunlight?"
"Yes," Manta said, the tonals deepening in tone. "We will speak again at that time."
"Thank you," Faraday said. "We'll hopefully have this straightened out by then."
"I trust so," Manta said. "Farewell."
"All mikes off," Faraday ordered, flipping off his own microphone. He waited until the techs had complied, then turned to Liadof. "Arbiter, with all due respect, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Carrying out Changeling's mission statement, of course," she said icily. "Unlike you, who would simply give the Qanska everything they want and ask nothing in return."
Faraday looked at Sprenkle. "Dr. Sprenkle, an opinion. What's the state of Manta's mental health?"
"His basic personality seems mostly the same as when he left us," Sprenkle said. "However, while the foundation hasn't changed, there's definitely been a great deal of growth and maturation. More, frankly, than I would have expected even a few months ago." He hesitated. "He also seems to have picked up some of the Qanskan sense of honor."
"I see," Faraday said. "Bottom line: If we carry out our side of a bargain, will he carry out his?"
"Absolutely," Sprenkle said. "What he mostly needs right now is to reestablish some trust in us. Both for his own sake, and that of his standing among the other Qanska."
Faraday turned back to Liadof. "So that's it," he said firmly. "We need to show some good faith."
He lifted his chin defiantly. "And we're going to do so, whether you like it or not. I've given Manta my word."
He'd thought Liadof's eyes were as hard as they ever got. He'd been mistaken. "I think, Colonel," she said softly, "that it's time for us to have another little chat."
"I agree," Faraday said, just as softly. He looked around the board. "Stay on top of the situation, everyone. Everything's to be done by the book."
"Yes, sir," Beach answered for all of them.
Faraday nodded and turned back to Liadof. "Please; after you."
They swam until the human probe was just a glint in the distance before any of them dared speak again. "Manta, I won't do it," Drusni said, her voice trembling. "I won't let them take my children."
"You won't have to," Manta told her grimly, lashing his tails in frustration and uncertainty. What in the Deep was going on up there? Faraday was the human who'd talked him into coming here in the first place, the one who'd stood by him through all the confusion and pain of those early ninedays. Could he really have become so cruel?
He lashed his tails again. No. He could hardly remember the human language anymore, relying instead on the tonals the humans' translator sent through the probe. But the receiver they'd planted in his brain was still working; and he could still make out the differences between human voices. It had been Faraday who had spoken up against the other human's demand for hostages.
For that matter, it had been Faraday who'd insisted on cutting the conversation short. Did he have a plan to stop these other humans?
"What if they won't help us otherwise?" Latranesto asked darkly. "We've now told them of our weakness; and on top of that, you've basically told them we don't have the machine they want. We have nothing left to hold them to their promise."
"Not true," Manta said. "We may not have a machine; but we do have the pathway they want. Besides that, we have Faraday's promise that they will help us."
Latranesto snorted. "The promise of a human. Do you really believe we can trust that?"
"I trust his intentions," Manta said. "Unfortunately, he may no longer have the power to carry out the promises he makes. If this human Liadof is really part of the Five Hundred, she holds more power than Faraday."
"Are these Five Hundred evil?" Pranlo asked.
"Not necessarily," Manta said. "But they have great power, and they've become accustomed to wielding it. Among humans, that's a dangerous thing."
"Then if they're against us, there is no hope," Latranesto said.
"No," Manta said, looking back at the probe. "There's still Faraday. We'll just have to hope he can persuade the Five Hundred to cooperate with us."
"And if he can't?" Drusni asked.
"I trust that he can," Manta said. "If he can't... well, we'll just have to find something else to bargain with. If we can."
"We'll find something," Pranlo said. "You have confidence in Faraday; I have confidence in you."
He flipped his tails. "And while we discuss it, I'm hungry. Let's go find something to eat."
TWENTY-NINE
They found a small discussion room down the corridor that—not surprisingly, given the hour—was unoccupied. Liadof stomped her way inside, with Faraday right behind her. Hesse, grim and silent, followed a distant third.
"Sit down, Colonel," Liadof ordered as she dropped into the chair at the head of the table. "Mr. Hesse, close the door."
"You're not taking hostages, Arbiter," Faraday said as he sat down at the opposite end of the table. "Absolutely not."
"I'm impressed by your high moral standards, Colonel," Liadof bit out. "I'm equally impressed by the shortness of your memory. Have you forgotten our earlier conversation?"
"No," Faraday said tartly. "Have you forgotten your own high-ground position? I thought getting the stardrive was your first and only priority."
"There is no stardrive," Liadof said sourly. "You heard him: 'I cannot give you a stardrive to study.' What else can that mean but that they haven't got anything?"
" 'But after you have broken the barrier, we will take you to the path between worlds,' " Faraday finished the quote. "What's the difference between that and actual hardware?"
"The difference is that if there's no physical stardrive, then there's nothing we can use," Liadof said. "Some esoteric stargate or wormhole buried deep inside Jupiter may be handy for them, but it's useless to us."
Faraday shook his head. "No. I'm not convinced this is anything but a semantics problem. That statement could just as easily mean that there is a stardrive, but that they're simply not going to let us study it."
"In which case, there's still no point in continuing this process, is there?" Liadof retorted. "Mr. Hesse, sit down. You're making me nervous."
Silently, Hesse stepped over from where he'd been fidgeting by the door. Choosing a chair equidistant from the two antagonists, he sat down.
"I didn't mean they would never let us study it," Faraday said patiently. "But they clearly want their problem taken care of first."
"Fine," Liadof said. "And I'm willing to meet them halfway. But if it does exist, I want to at least get a look at it before we proceed any further."
Faraday shook his head. "We need to show good faith," he said. "You heard what Dr. Sprenkle said. If we do that, we can trust Manta to come through on his part of the bargain."
"Can we?" Liadof demanded. "Dr. Sprenkle's opinions notwithstanding, the fact is that we really don'
t know how Mr. Raimey thinks anymore. If he decides to stiff us, we go home empty-handed."
Faraday leaned back in his seat. "And that's what you're really afraid of, isn't it?" he said. "The fear of looking foolish; of not being able to deliver the hand-wrapped birthday present your faction promised the Five Hundred when they took power."
"My personal political standing is not the issue, Colonel," Liadof said evenly. "And, just for your information, that standing is also not in any danger."
"Then what does it cost you to be magnanimous?" Faraday urged. "Fix the problem for them. Be a hero on Jupiter, and at the same time buy yourself some goodwill throughout the System. All it'll cost will be a couple of nuclear warheads that no one's using anyway."
"And you'll also be demonstrating great foresight," Hesse murmured. "After all, you're the one who asked for the weapons in the first place."
"That's right," Faraday said, pouncing on the idea. If he could just persuade Liadof that helping Manta was in her best interests... "In fact, if you'd like, we could even backdate the radiation studies we're going to do so that you could claim to have noticed the decrease in equatorial output a couple of months ago. You suspected the problem, deduced a solution, and commissioned more study."
"Interesting idea," Liadof said. "Unfortunately, I've already told the Five Hundred and Sol/Guard that the weapons were for a sonic study."
"You could say you weren't yet absolutely sure of the facts," Hesse suggested. "Rather than start rumors, you used the sonic study idea to get the weapons transferred here. If the radiation thing turned out to be a false alarm, you could still use them for the sonic study."
"Very clever," Liadof agreed. "Both of you."
Her face settled into its deep lines. "And all that would cost would be letting you assist me in a lie, which would give you a lever you could use against me for the rest of my life." She shook her head. "Nice try, Colonel."
Faraday sighed. "Arbiter, what's it going to take to get through to you? I'm not interested in power, or levers, or your destruction. All I want is to open up the universe to humanity, and to do it in a way that lets me sleep at night. Is that too much to ask?"