Orphans of Earth (37 page)

Ueh was still docked, as was Axford. The latter waited in an antechamber not far away, chatting with some of the other colonists. She dreaded to think what seeds of dissent he was sowing.

TELL HIM WE’RE MEETING IN
SILENT LIQUIDITY
IN TWO MINUTES.

I’LL MAKE SURE HE’S THERE, SOL.

As she stood and brushed herself down, Gou Mang filled her in on the most disturbing new detail.

WE HAVE A NEW KILL REPORT FROM TAU CETI. INARI REPORTED THAT THE SUPPLY RECLAMATION MISSION TO NEW FRANCE BARELY GOT AWAY WITH THEIR LIVES WHEN THE STARFISH SHOWED UP.

Hatzis thought this through before replying. Inari was the version of herself from psi Capricornus who had been put in charge of reclaiming material from senescent colonies like New France, in Tau Ceti.

DOES INARI KNOW WHAT TIPPED THEM OFF?

NO. IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN A RANDOM SEARCH. THE FRONT IS DUE TO HIT AROUND THERE ANY TIME NOW.

EITHER WAY, THEY’RE IN THE AREA NOW, SO WE NEED TO BE CAREFUL HERE, TOO.

OF COURSE.

Was that a note of annoyance in Gou Mang’s voice? Hatzis wondered if some of her criticism of Alander might not apply to herself, too.

YOU KNOW, I APPRECIATE ALL OF THE WORK YOU’VE BEEN DOING LATELY, GOU MANG. IT’S BEEN DIFFICULT ENOUGH WITHOUT ME DISAPPEARING FOR ODD PERIODS AND LEAVING YOU WITH IT. YOU’VE HANDLED IT WELL.

WE’RE ALL DOING THE BEST WE CAN, SOL.

If it had been annoyance, it was replaced by pride in Gou Mang’s reply.

* * *

Hatzis arranged for a feed from the inside of
Silent Liquidity to be spread across the base and all the installations in the system. When the four of them met, it would be either the beginning or end of something important. She wanted everyone to see it, so there could be no claims of a cover-up afterward. For many in her care, also, it would be their first chance to actually see a Yuhl.

They made an odd foursome: posthuman Hatzis, android Axford, Yuhl-modified Alander, and the long-legged alien. There was an extended silence as they looked one another over, each hoping someone else would start the proceedings. Hatzis didn’t want to be seen to be trying to take charge of the meeting, but when the silence stretched past a minute, she decided that someone should say
something.
Thankfully, before she spoke, the alien’s high-pitched voice broke the quiet.

“Our paths are concurrent once again.” He spoke slowly, carefully working to ensure that both vocal chords worked in synch. He obviously recognized the difficulty humans had with the double vocal streams and wanted to minimize any chance of communication breakdown. “I am pleased.”

“Well, I’m just sorry you were kept waiting,” said Axford with a sidelong glance at Hatzis. “I hope that won’t impact upon the diplomatic process.”

“The issue isn’t promptness, Frank,” said Hatzis.

“Then what is it, Caryl?”

“You tell me.” She faced him squarely. “I seem to be the only one unconvinced of the need to talk.”

Ueh pointed both his index fingers at Hatzis. Although she knew from Alander’s mind that this was a sign of respect, she couldn’t help feeling unduly singled out.
The finger of suspicion points at me,
she thought.

“The free flow of information is always desirable,” the alien continued slowly, “no matter where it leads us. I am here to facilitate discussion between our species. If we come away from this meeting still at war, then I will not have failed.”

“In your eyes, perhaps,” said Axford.

The patterns on Ueh’s face shifted suddenly.
“
By what/with whose
other eyes can I see?”

Hatzis smiled to herself at the alien’s response. She was amazed at the Yuhl’s transformation since their first encounter. Then he had been silent and passive while his companion cast aspersions at humanity. Whatever had happened to him in the belly of the Praxis, it certainly had changed him.

Perhaps
, she thought,
Alander should count himself lucky that he still recognized himself.

“We all want different things,” Alander put in, “but in the end we all want the
same
thing as well. We want to survive this. At this point in time, humanity’s options are both grim and limited. If the Yuhl are right, we have only a matter of weeks before the Starfish wipe all traces of our colonies from the space we occupy. We can either stay, or we can flee. If we flee, we have only one obvious direction in which to run, and that’s with the Yuhl. But if we stay, we’re going to need all the information about the Starfish we can lay our hands on—and the obvious place to look for that is with the Yuhl. Talking to the Yuhl seems to me not only the sensible option right now, but also our
only
option.”

“I agree,” said Axford.

Hatzis confronted the three pairs of eyes looking at her. “I think you’re being naïve, Peter,” she said. “And as for you, Frank, well, I don’t trust your motives.” She didn’t give either of them the chance to respond. “We have no evidence that the Yuhl would ever be willing to deal honestly with us. The destruction of innocent colonies forces me to treat them as hostiles.” She fixed the alien with an unflinching gaze. “I’m sorry, but where I come from, actions speak louder than words.”

“They are not
my/our
actions,” said Ueh.

“How can you
say
that?” She took a step closer, her body language unquestionably challenging in a human context. She wanted him to be certain of her intentions. “You yourself were actually captured during a raid on Hera.”

“It was
not a raid/a reconnaissance mission
,” the Yuhl responded.
“
We/I
admit to stealing
your resources/on occasions,
but only from those colonies you refer to as senescent.”

The more emotional the alien became, the less he was able to keep his vocal streams synchronized.

“We have footage,” she said. “I saw you—”

“Caryl,” Alander interrupted. “The Praxis said—”

“I
know
what the Praxis said,” she interrupted him in turn. “But what would you have me believe, Peter? That Frank was responsible for it? Or maybe even another alien race?”

“There could be more,” said Axford affably. “Space is a big, empty place, after all, and the Spinners have been traveling a long time. There could be dozens of species going along for the ride.”

“Well, I’ve no intention of becoming another one,” she said, letting the certainty she felt speak through her voice as much as her words. “This is our home, and I’m going to fight for it.”

“And I agree, Caryl,” Axford said quickly. “I just want to make sure we’re fighting the right people.”

Ueh made a noise like a hoarse whistle from both his windpipes, as though clearing his throat.

“The Praxis does not believe in aggression as a substitute for resolution,” he said with more control.

“So what does it believe in?” Hatzis asked.

“Nature,” was the short answer.

“Red in tooth and nail?”

The alien looked to Alander, its facial patterns shifting again.

“He doesn’t understand the metaphor,” said Alander.

“Really?” she said. “That surprises me.” Then, to the alien: “It’s all about predators and prey—who’s highest on the food chain and who’s being eaten, that kind of thing. You call us the already-dead and pick out our leftovers. You know, just because you profess to avoid aggression doesn’t necessarily mean you’re in a higher moral state than us.”

“There is no
up/down
to morality.” The lines around the alien’s eyes formed inverted
V
s of almost comical surprise. “There is a multidimensional landscape of
peaks/troughs.
It benefits no one to compare absolutes in isolation. My species’ willingness to talk, in some minds, might place us above you and perhaps even justify a firm response to your aggressive stance.”

She placed her hands on her hips as she faced off with the alien. “Are you threatening us?”

“The Yuhl act,” said Ueh. “
I/we
do not threaten. Were we to attack, you would not know until it had already happened.”

It sounded like a threat, but she had to give him the benefit of the doubt. She shouldn’t take human behavior into account when trying to interpret the words of an alien.

“What would you have us do, then? Just talk?”

“Yes, but not here. I
cannot decide/only listen.
You should come to the
Mantissa
and put your case to the Fit.”

Hatzis thought of the cilia-filled helmets and shivered. “You want me to come to you?”

“The Praxis instructed me to consider this my goal: to get
humanity/riil
to agree to this. It is the only way our species will ever truly negotiate.”

Again, the Yuhl’s announcement sounded like an ultimatum, but she had to admit it made sense. If Ueh couldn’t negotiate, there was little point going over the arguments with him. He was nothing more than bait to get her to agree.

She was tired of trying to work out who meant what. It felt like she was going around in circles, cycling over and over through the same old arguments and coming to the same decisions—decisions that never seemed to make anyone happy. There had to be another way. But she wasn’t about to hand power over to Axford or the Yuhl, and she believed Alander when he said he didn’t want it. The only alternative was to hand it over to one of the ordinary engrams, which, although she knew the idea was crazy, was perhaps halfway there.

GOU MANG, I CAN’T DECIDE THIS ON MY OWN; IT’S TOO IMPORTANT. I WANT TO CALL A VOTE. CONTACT EVERYONE WHO’S BEEN WATCHING THIS FROM THE START AND POLL FOR THEIR OPINION. I’LL GO WITH THAT RATHER THAN TRUST MY OWN DECISION.

OKAY, SOL. IT’S GOING TO TAKE A MINUTE OR TWO.

THEN YOU’D BETTER GET STARTED.

“What do you think, Caryl?” Alander studied her closely. Their moment of closeness had passed. She had no idea what was going through his mind now.

“Wait,” she said, her raised hand motioning him to silence. “I’m calling for a second opinion.”

She walked around the cockpit, worrying at a thumbnail until Gou Mang came through with the results. She could feel an energetic buzzing around her as the population of Sothis voted on their fate, but she didn’t intervene or even observe. She wanted to stay completely out of it.
Let them decide their own fate,
she thought to herself.
If I don’t like it, I can always leave.

WE HAVE A RESULT, SOL.

TELL ME.

OUT OF 100: AYE, 54; NAY, 32. THE BALANCE CONSISTS OF ABSTENTIONS.

WHICH WAY IS WHICH?

AYE MEANS TO GO.

Hatzis took a deep breath,
then i guess i go.

Hatzis felt an immediate lightening of the load. Absolving herself of the decision was making all the difference.

“If we’re to go,” she said aloud, “would we need to call ahead?”

“No,” said Ueh, again speaking slowly to keep his speech in a single stream. “
Yuhl/Goel
do not make announcements about what we intend to do.
I/we
just do them.”

“Okay, then let’s not waste any time. The sooner we have an answer, the better.” She looked at Ueh, Axford, and Alander in turn. The alien was inscrutable; Axford looked cautiously pleased; Alander smiled openly. “We can continue this conversation on the way.”

“Let’s not go as beggars, either,” said Axford. “I suggest docking
Arachne, Orcus,
and
Silent Liquidity
together and taking all three. It demonstrates a certain amount of knowledge and resourcefulness. It also shows how we can work together when it really counts.”

Hatzis stared at him. “Next you’ll be suggesting we should give
Silent Liquidity
back as a sign of goodwill.”

“I may be many things, Caryl,” he said, “but crazy isn’t one of them.”

* * *

As soon as the three cockpits were in a stable configuration
around their new, combined central body, Hatzis called the order to relocate. The new vessel answered to the name
Triumvirate
and had more than enough room for its four occupants. For the first hour or so, they talked in general terms over what would happen when they arrived in Beid. Soon enough, though, she called a break to rest and rethink. It might, she thought, be the last chance any of them had to do this for some time.

Alander took himself off to a private berth the hole ship provided for him. Ueh blacked out his section of the cockpit so he couldn’t be watched. Axford put his feet up on one of the couches and closed his eyes. He didn’t sleep, though. He simply rested, breathing evenly with his hands folded in his lap.

Caryl wondered what Axford thought about when he was on his own. Did he miss the company of his fellow copies? Even though they weren’t part of a gestalt, there had to be some sort of empathy, even if it was only based on body language and shared knowledge. She wondered if a person like Frank the Ax ever got lonely. If he did, she doubted he would ever admit it.

She watched him for fifteen minutes or so as Sothis receded behind her and the decision she had to make drew steadily closer.

“You think we should attack the Starfish, don’t you?” she said aloud.

A faint smile played across his lips as though he had been waiting for her to ask. “Yes,” he said, keeping his eyes closed, as if continuing to meditate even as he spoke. “I do.”

“Why?”

He opened his eyes now and fixed her with an even stare. “That becomes obvious if you exchange the word
attack
for
resist
.”

“But do you really think we stand a chance against them?”

“Better than none at all, which is what we have if we do nothing.” Axford remained calm and untroubled, as though they were talking about nothing more than the stellar forecasts in Vega. “I do know we need the Yuhl to do it.”

“I don’t understand your certainty over this. If I did, I might reconsider.”

“Perhaps it’s a statement of faith. Or hope.” He shrugged. “I once pinned that hope on the Gifts and the Spinners. But we obviously don’t have time to dig through the Library to find out what we need, and we can’t take the Gifts with us if we run. The next largest repository of knowledge is the Yuhl, so...” He left the sentence dangling between them.