by Warren Dean
"No, that's not what I mean at all. The Repository is amazing; it's an opportunity we'll never have again and we would hate to lose it. It's just that we don't know what you expect of us. Everything we do seems to have been done before, and by people who are much more advanced than we. I was hoping you might be able to guide us; maybe give us something more specific to focus on."
He stood up from his seat and helped her down from hers. Then he led the way deeper into the city. "I too have considered this," he said, "but I am not certain that it would be a wise course of action."
"Why?"
"I fear that, if I direct your enquiries in any way, I will suppress the very qualities that I wish to foster."
"You mean you actually like the way we behave?"
"It is not a matter of liking or disliking it. As the name by which we are known suggests, my people are builders. We have built everything from fold-space technologies to civilisations. Our efforts have culminated in the creation of the intergalactic community known as the Thousand Systems. We are logical, progressive, and productive. These characteristics are ingrained in us; they define our very nature. In earlier epochs, we considered ourselves peerless and virtually infallible. In more recent times, however, we have come to understand that there are things we have not mastered. Whatever ability my race may once have had to be spontaneous and intuitive has been lost. Over time, we have come into contact with other races that have such qualities, but once they joined our community, they have tended to embrace our values rather than we theirs."
"I think I understand," she said. "You don't want to stifle our way of thinking."
"Yes. In a way, it is I who need your guidance in my endeavours."
They were silent for a while, and he let her think about what he had said as they continued their walk through the city.
"I don't believe it's as much of an issue as you think," she said eventually. "As you must have noticed, my friends are natural rebels. At NASA, the techies are always trying to get them to follow the rules, but they never do. The director is a bit more like you; he doesn't try to control them because he needs their ability to think outside the box. But even he has to set some limits otherwise they would get completely out of hand. I think it would be okay if you set some parameters. The director does that all the time, so they are used to it. And even when they are given what NASA considers to be all the relevant parameters, they don't hesitate to go beyond them if they think that the techies have got the whole thing wrong."
"It is encouraging to hear this," he said. "Perhaps it is inevitable that I should steer you towards what I believe to be the critical areas of enquiry. As long as you are sure that I will not be altering the natural state of things by doing so?"
He surprised himself a little by asking for her approval. It was another sign of the growing regard he had for her.
She shrugged. "I can't be sure," she said, "but the Nerds are a lot tougher than they look. I would be amazed if you focussing their attention changed the way they do things. On the contrary, they thrive on a challenge."
They discussed the subject a little more, but the Journeyman felt that the issue was resolved, and he was already thinking of the best way to introduce the younglings to the impasse that his studies had reached.
"Where are we going?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"There is something I want to show you. It may give you more insight into the nature of the Repository," he said. "It is not much further."
"May I ask you another question?"
"Of course."
"One of my colleagues, Ant Jennings, told me something interesting this morning. He was looking at the voyage of the drone that surveyed Earth and Mars. According to its log it has an odd history. It entered a black hole, went missing for five hundred cycles, and was found again. Weirdly, its log had no record of what happened to it in all that time."
The Journeyman's expression was distant as he searched his memory. "Indeed, I recall the incident," he said eventually. "It was regarded as an anomaly at the time. The drone was brought here to be examined. We ran its log through every reconstruction process available, but were not able to recover any further information."
"But isn't it true that nothing can survive a black hole?"
"The universe teaches us that nothing is impossible," he said, "but such a feat has never been observed by any civilisation that we are aware of."
"So, how do you think the drone might have managed it?"
"My recollection is that, from the physical damage it sustained, it was evident that it had indeed had a brush with a black hole, but the most likely explanation is that it was spun away by the forces it would have encountered before reaching the event horizon. Those forces damaged it to such an extent that it was powerless to do anything but drift through space. We concluded that the log itself must have been corrupted, and that its record of the incident was unreliable."
"Why didn't it send a distress signal earlier?"
"It probably did from time to time, but if it wasn't able to generate much power, its signal would have been very weak. And if it was diverting all power to that function, it may not have been able to record anything in its log."
"Still, it was impressive for it to keep going for such a long time before eventually making contact."
"That was one of our early Seeker drones. They were a design breakthrough for their time. Earlier models had to return for repairs at relatively short intervals and, although regeneralloy was used in the construction of their systems, the old models tended to have a finite lifespan. The Seekers were the first drones constructed almost entirely of regeneralloy. They were extremely resilient and had an almost endless capacity to repair themselves.
"The new model had its drawbacks, however. It was regarded by some Constructors as being too reactive to whatever environment it found itself in. Individual Seekers often overcompensated for real or perceived dangers, sometimes rendering themselves unserviceable and some are even known to have self-destructed. So newer models were developed and, as older drones reported in, they were replaced. Most of them have been replaced by now although there are still a few of them out there, functioning perfectly well."
"It's almost as if they have minds of their own," she mused.
He gave his roar of a laugh. "Machines are not capable of sentience, but it is true that they sometimes try the patience of their makers."
"What happened to the damaged Seeker, the one that visited Earth?"
"I do not recall specifically, but it is archived somewhere on the planet."
"You mean it's still here, at the Repository?"
"Yes, it was preserved in case improved diagnostic techniques are one day able to glean new information from its log."
Any further questions died on her lips as they finally reached the far end of the City of Shapes. They clattered down a wide avenue of stone stairs into darkness, and she took off her eyeshades. At that moment, the Journeyman made a dramatic gesture towards his right, and light flooded into what she saw was an immense underground chamber. Unlike the rest of the Repository, or at least the parts of it that she was familiar with, the roof was not transparent. When the lights came on, she saw that they were standing on an upper landing of a deep stairway, from which they had a panoramic view of the vast space.
"What is this place?" she asked in a whisper.
"It is an artefact store, one of thousands on the planet," boomed the Constructor. His voice echoed through the gigantic chamber, eventually losing itself amid the massive proliferation of stacks and containers laid out in long ribbons which all but disappeared into the distance. "Here is where artefacts from all over the Thousand Systems are housed. Most civilisations store information in condensed formats to make recall easier, and the Constructors have always done that too. But one of the reasons the Repository was built on an otherwise uninhabited planet was so that there would be space to keep as much original material as possible. Those of us who built the Repository
have always appreciated the value of preserving sources of information, in whatever form they take."
"A library of things," she said reverently, her eyes glittering as they took in the mesmerising array of artefacts, countless and wondrous.
"You will find texts and machines, samples and blueprints, star charts and secrets, recordals of events new, old, and ancient. In time, the data cache you brought with you from NASA will be placed in a facility like this."
"How do you keep track of it all? Is there some order to it?"
"Each store has its own classification system, which can be accessed through local sensory points or from the 'hive. In moments you can locate any given article, together with its history, features, uses, and the results of any studies conducted on it."
She did not reply for a time, content to stand and look out over the silent mass of things and the immense sweep of knowledge they represented.
"Thank you for bringing me here," she said eventually.
"I thought it was something you would appreciate," he replied. Please feel free to remain here as long as you wish and to visit again anytime. Now, I need to commence work on the program I intend introducing to your companions and it is time I returned to the 'hive." He gestured, opening a small portal in the gloom.
"There is a portal here?" she asked.
"A floating portal can be opened anywhere," he replied.
"You mean we needn't have walked all the way here?"
"No, but I thought it would be instructive for you to experience more of the Repository while we talked."
"I see," she said.
THE NEXT DAY
"That's incredible," said Connor. "The actual drone that surveyed Earth all those centuries ago is right here, under our noses? My father would love to know that. Let's go and find it!"
"Don't be silly, we don't have time for a wild goose chase," replied Azee. "Let's focus on what the Journeyman is about to show us, alright? It's what we've been waiting for."
"Yes, but what if there's something in the drone's missing log?" asked Ant.
"What are you talking about? The Journeyman says the log is blank."
"Maybe we can trace where it went from other sources," suggested Connor.
"What other sources? There are no surveillance cameras in space, you know." Azee shook her head. "Honestly, I wish I hadn't told you about this. Come on, he's about to start."
Connor and Christina were standing with Azee and Ant on the reception platform of the 'hive watching the other Nerds clambering into their cells. Azee impatiently followed suit, but Ant hung back for a moment. "She may be right about it being a waste of time," he said, "but I think it's worth trying to find that drone. There might be new techniques we can use to recreate its log; you never know."
"How are we going to find it?" asked Christina. "It could be anywhere on the planet."
"Didn't the Journeyman tell Azee that someone using the 'hive can find anything on the planet within minutes?" asked Connor.
"Anyone who's familiar with using the 'hive for such a purpose, perhaps," replied Christina doubtfully.
"You forget who you're talking to," said Ant with a wink. "I'll need more than a few minutes but if you wait here I'll see what I can do."
He squeezed into his cell, leaving Connor and Christina alone on the platform.
"Well," said Connor, "we may as well watch the Journeyman's show while we wait."
Christina stepped into a cell adjacent to the one Ant had entered. On impulse, Connor tried following Christina into the same cell and was pleasantly surprised when the membrane opened and let him in. She looked at him with mild concern, not sure that the cells were designed for more than one person at a time, but it filled up with fluid as normal and formed breathing bubbles around both of their heads.
The Journeyman had begun what turned out to be a lengthy account of the quest for the yellow metal. The history was presented as a sweeping visual feast unadorned by commentary, and he and Christina sat spellbound for hours as the decline of the Constructors' great civilisation unfolded.
As the once mighty race became more and more dependent upon the alloy which sustained it, the search became more focused, and more desperate. The ongoing process led indirectly to the establishment of the Thousand Systems. As the early deep space-probes ventured further and further out into space, they encountered other sentient races. Some were sitting on reserves of the yellow metal which they were persuaded to trade for the superior technology of the Constructors. Others were happy to simply share celestial information, and all were invited to join the intergalactic community.
Races which showed aggression, and there were a few of those, were side-lined until they mended their ways.
In recent millennia, as the number of Constructors dwindled, the Repository was established to consolidate their accumulated knowledge and as a focal point for the search.
Some of what Connor and Christina saw they already knew, but the condensed presentation gave the story an immediacy that brought home just how close the Journeyman's people were to the precipice. Almost as close as humanity was, Connor thought uncomfortably.
After an interlude so that the ever hungry Nerds could have a bite to eat, the show continued. The second part of the presentation covered much of the same ground as the first but was this time overlaid with graphics reflecting how and where critical discoveries were made, not only of the yellow metal, but also of other markers considered to be relevant in some way. It was a lot to take in and eventually even the Nerds' capacity to process information was exhausted.
Everyone was relieved when the ambient light of the 'hive began to brighten as daybreak approached, and the Journeyman broke off so that they could all get some sleep.
Ant clambered wearily out of his cell and waited until the other Nerds had dispersed before speaking to Connor and Christina. "Unfortunately the presentation is not making it easy for me to do my own thing," he said. "I'll try again tomorrow."
He shambled off after the others.
"He looks very sad," said Christina. "Do you think he's well?"
"Azee says he's never been in a situation where he can't put his computer skills to good use," replied Connor. "It's making him feel like he's of no value to the other Nerds."
"Perhaps we should tell him not to concern himself with the old Seeker any longer," said Christina. "It's probably no more than a curiosity, after all."
"No, we can't tell him that," said Connor. "If I know Ant, he's now determined to move Heaven and Earth – perhaps literally – to find this drone. If we tell him that we're no longer interested, he'll be devastated."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Er… it's a guy thing. And anyway, I'd love to find that drone myself. Imagine what my father would say if I told him I'd found the very craft that planted the diamond map he discovered all those years ago. He would be beside himself."
"I'm still not sure I understand."
"Er…"
"Another guy thing?"
Connor grinned. "For a four hundred-year-old you sure catch on quick. Come on, let's get to the refectory before the Nerds flatten all the food."
The following night, the Journeyman completed his presentation. He showed them how various theories attempted to draw all of the threads together and where it was considered most likely that the source was located.
"--For millennia,--" boomed the mind-voice of the Journeyman, "--our best research teams have generated oceans of data, our best minds have examined every piece of the puzzle, and our best explorers have investigated every significant nook, cranny, and anomaly. And yet, for all our efforts, the best we have been able to do is narrow down the area of likelihood to the sectors I have shown you.--"
"--So, where do we start looking?--" asked one of the Nerds.
"--That is entirely up to you.--"
"--How does NASA's data compare with yours?--" asked another.
"--The best that can be said about the data you brought with you
is that it is consistent with our matrix.--"
As the Journeyman spoke, bright yellow pinpricks of light blossomed across the virtual landscape, representing the observations made by NASA. They seemed awfully small and insignificant when seen against the mind-boggling array in which they were set.
That didn't dissuade the Nerds from immediately bringing their own special brand of logic to bear on the mystery.
"--A star-forming nebula has to be the best bet…--"
"--The only betting you've ever done is on blackjack in Reno…--"
"--It draws matter together, forms stars, one of them goes supernova, and Bob's your uncle…--"
"--I thought Charlie Brown was your uncle…--"
"--Don't start that again…--"
"--Can someone enlarge the Algernon star circle…--"
"--A supernova remnant can't possibly carry material far enough…--"
"--It's not 'Algernon' you Rube, it's Al-tan'norn…--"
"--Depends on how big the supernova is…--
"--It would have to be massive enough to vaporize galaxies …--"
"--So it's possible then…--"
"--In your nightmares maybe…--"
"--I'm sure the Constructors would have noticed an event that big…--"
"--Shouldn't we be looking for temporal anomalies…?--"
"--Where would we find the time, ha ha…!--
Connor saw Ant disengage from his cell and beckon to them. He alerted Christina and together they followed suit.
Before speaking, Ant looked around furtively. "I've found it," he whispered conspiratorially.
"You have? Excellent!" said Connor in excitement.
"Ssshh! Keep your voice down," hissed the hacker.
"Why?" asked Christina in a normal voice. "I wasn't aware we were doing anything forbidden."
"You can never be too careful," said Ant. "You don't know who might be listening."
Christina looked around the empty platform. "No-one is listening," she said.
"Why don't you just tell me where it is," Connor said hastily, concerned that the hacker's natural paranoia would drive the pointless conversation further. "Then you can go back into your cell and we'll make ourselves scarce. No-one will be the wiser."