Orphans of Earth (40 page)

Amid the rising hubbub of the Fit, Axford’s voice rang out: “I think we’re arguing about the wrong thing. The Praxis isn’t your problem. If anything, it is the solution. Your problems began the day your species encountered the Ambivalence.”

“
PRAISE AND THANKS TO THE AMBIVALENCE!
”
came an answering chant from the Fit, but it sounded halfhearted. Doubt had been sown.

“From your point of view, it must seems so,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous
after the echoes of the chant faded.

“Of course it does, because right now we are where you were two and a half thousand years ago. People are dying every day; whole colonies are being destroyed. In a week or two we might not even
exist.
How can we look at it any other way?”

“We are different,” said Ueh. “I have observed consistent deterministic tendencies among your people: you look for reasons, for something to blame. We do not think that way. For us, some things happen by a confluence of events, many of them seemingly irrelevant. The universe follows its own path, and we are swept up in it. Sometimes there
are
reasons and we do not see them, just as sometimes there are no reasons and you invent them.”

“We didn’t invent the attacks on our colonies,” said Hatzis.

“But that’s not the point.” Axford sounded exasperated, and Alander wondered how genuine it was. “The attacks are minor, and we could argue from here to eternity about who crossed the line first. In the end it doesn’t matter. It is irrelevant. What does matter is the Starfish. We’re not inventing
that
.”

“No, you are not.” The voice of
Status Quo/Mellifluous
was soft, but it rose with perfect clarity out of a sudden silence. “Before the Ambivalence, the Yuhl possessed just two worlds and several satellite colonies. The Ambivalence brought us riches unimagined. Then it brought death.”
Status Quo/Mellifluous
paused, and a brief, hollow silence fell.

“You were there?” Alander asked, amazed.

“A few of us have been kept alive well beyond our natural years by the gift you call I-suits. We have endured more than you can imagine.”

“No doubt,” Axford said. “But this underlies the point I’m trying to make. You
know
what it feels like to watch your civilization die.”

“And I know that
humanity/riil
will die also, unless it follows the path of the
Yuhl/Goel.
There are no other options.”

“None at all?”

“The number of futures open to anyone within the influence of the Ambivalence is just two: death or assimilation.”

Startled by the fatalist sentiments, Alander realized only then that the nature of the Ambivalence had been fundamentally mistranslated. The Yuhl didn’t think of it as a god, a deity with aspects of good and evil in whose shadow they crawled and by whose grace they lived or died. The notion of
decision
in this case had more to do with the results of a coin toss than conscious will. The Ambivalence was to them more like a physical phenomenon than a god, at most a giant machine, clunking and rattling its way through the universe completely oblivious to the creatures that lived among its cogs and levers. Whether it was comprised of one species or two, or even a thousand, was irrelevant. The Ambivalence was taken as a single, incomprehensible whole rather than any number of equally incomprehensible component parts.

“There are in fact three options,” put in
Radical/Provocative.
“We have the Species Dream.”

“We would gladly adopt the Species Dream if we could only find somewhere to live,”
Status Quo/Mellifluous
said, more for the benefit of the Fit’s human guests than
Radical/Provocative.
“The fact is that none of our deep scouts have ever succeeded in their quest to find a safe location. The few that return from their reconnaissance have brought inconclusive data. Remember: the Ambivalence is traveling through space at a sizable multiple of the speed of light, and we must maintain that velocity if we are to remain in our niche. Also, the scouts cannot use the ftl communicators for fear of exposing themselves. They must explore potential systems quickly, then return in time for the
Mantissa
to mobilize. It is a difficult task.”

“Perhaps too difficult,” said Alander. “Perhaps you are setting your standards too high.”

“Our standards must be high. If we make the wrong decision, we will be destroyed by the Ambivalence. Just because a probe or two explored a tiny percentage of the wake and survived does not mean that a permanent settlement will. Who knows what might follow the Ambivalence?”

“You think the Starfish could be just the vanguard of something larger?” Hatzis asked uneasily. Alander could understand that unease, too. The thought was truly a disturbing one. If it was true, then it didn’t matter what the
Yuhl/Goel
or humanity did; ultimately, the very last trace that they had ever existed would soon be cleaned away.

“It is not something I would like to put to the test,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous.
“To move from the shadow of the Ambivalence could mean our death.”

“No more than staying here!” There was a bitter and smoky edge to
Radical/Provocative’s
voice. “I have spent my entire existence in the underbelly of the Ambivalence. I am tired. Sometimes I think that I would rather risk death than an eternity in such a limbo.”

“That is your choice,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous
severely.

“Is it?” asked
Radical/Provocative.
“I propose that those who wish to should be allowed to attempt the Species Dream. Perhaps you’re right, and we can’t do it alone. But here we have allies who are eager to assist! We may never have such a chance again.”

“The Fit will never agree to—”

“Does it need to?” cut in
Radical/Provocative.
“Why can’t those who wish to leave do so? We would demand only the resources due to us, in proportion to our numbers. Once gone, you would never have to worry about us again.”

“Split the
Mantissa
?” Again, the Fit sounded collectively mortified. A fragrance not unlike fear accosted Alander’s senses. At the same time, a number of Yuhl simultaneously spoke. It was impossible for a moment to tease out individual concerns, but the general feel was one of incredulity.

“Do you propose such a thing in seriousness or simply to get a reaction?” demanded
Status Quo/Mellifluous.

“I wouldn’t propose it if I wasn’t serious,” said
Radical/Provocative.

“Exactly how many of you
are
there?”

“You would become
yuhl/riil
!” protested a voice from the crowd.

“We must not split the
Mantissa
,” said another.

“It would be madness!” from yet another.

“Perhaps it is
time
for some madness, then!” said
Radical/Provocative.

Alander found himself being seduced by the insidious pessimism of the conversation. He struggled to lift himself out of it, not knowing if it was natural or something to do with his modification by the Praxis. Centuries of hiding and predation were hard to resist.

“None of this helps us,” he said, shouting to be heard over the hubbub. “If we wanted to commit suicide, we’d just throw ourselves at the Starfish and be done with it!”

“Perhaps we
can’t
help you,” said
Status Guo/Mellifluous
firmly. “Which brings us back to where we started, when you first spoke to us. I said then as I say now: why should we jeopardize our peaceful coexistence with the Ambivalence for the sake of
humanity/riil
?”

“And why should it be suicide?” spoke up Axford. “I can understand the Yuhl being uneasy about disturbing their precious peace with the Ambivalence—even if I disagree with it. But have you ever
seriously
considered the alternative?”

“Attack the
Ambivalence
?”
Status Quo/Mellifluous
sounded truly outraged by the suggestion.

“Listen: we’ve been trying to communicate with the Spinners and the Starfish at either end, ever since they first arrived. And I daresay that you once did the same until you gave up and decided to simply go along for the ride. But we need to try something different. They’re already decimating us, so we certainly have nothing to lose by showing some resistance. And who knows? Maybe hurting them is just the way to get their attention. And once we have it, that changes
everything
.”

“Or we have done nothing except waste lives,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous.

“Our lives are wasted living this way, anyway,” said
Radical/Provocative.

“I think it’s an acceptable risk,” Axford jumped in quickly. Like Alander, he clearly didn’t want the heated argument between these two Yuhl to dominate the proceedings. “Given time, I might have tried it myself. But I’d need to beef up my know-how a little in order to increase my chances, and I’d go into it expecting to get my ass kicked—but if nothing else, at least I’d have tried. And who’s to say it won’t work?”

“I am,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous
against a backdrop of agreement. “How do you know where to attack it? Are you planning to flail about blindly, hoping to hit something?”

“We have a target,” said Axford evenly. “The system we call pi-1 Ursa Major is proving a problem for us. Something’s in there—something that wants to stay hidden. I think it’s the Starfish, and I think that we should attack them while we still have the opportunity to do so. This could be our chance to break the pattern.”

“It still won’t work,”
Status Quo/Mellifluous
continued pessimistically. “The Ambivalence either destroys or ignores; there is no middle ground. Attacking it will only bring about our destruction!”

“How do you
know
that? Have you ever tried?”

“Of course not! To do so would—”

“You’ve never even
tried
?” Axford’s voice expressed unrestrained scorn. “In all the centuries you’ve been living in the Ambivalence’s armpit, you’ve never once tried to tickle it? No wonder some of you are calling this a kind of living death. You losers gave up and now expect everyone else to—”

“Frank, hold it.” Hatzis cut across a wave of angry protest that was spreading throughout the Fit. “We’re not here to throw stones—at the Yuhl
or
the Ambivalence. We’re here to explore options.”

“Not all the options, obviously,” he grumbled.

“The
realistic
options, then,” she countered. “You said it yourself:
given time,
you’d attack. You couldn’t do it at the moment, and you can’t reasonably expect the Yuhl to do your dirty work, either. So let’s just try to find a way to
make
time shall we? Whether it’s about the Species Dream or something else we haven’t thought of, we should be talking, not arguing. Okay?”

“You’ve changed your tune,” he said.

“That’s what rational creatures do when they encounter a brick wall.” Again Alander felt the sensation of skin sliding softly against skin when she talked. It wasn’t an erotic feeling, though. Hatzis’s voice was full of weary resignation, as though she was steeling herself to do something she still disagreed with. “If staying in surveyed space isn’t an option, we need to work out where to go instead. And if that means negotiating a treaty, then I’m just going to have to bite the bullet.”

“You’re suggesting we join the Yuhl?” Axford didn’t sound as happy as Alander had thought he might.

“If they’ll have us, yes,” she responded with some hesitation. “Then, one day when we’re stronger, we can return here and—”

“And
what
?” he snapped. “Jesus, Caryl, we didn’t come here to join
them
! We came to see if they would join us in a stand against the Starfish. You can’t expect us to blindly throw our fate in with this lot of skulking scavengers!”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting!”

“No? Well, it sure as hell sounds like it to me,” he said. “How do we know we’ll be safe if we do join up? Just because you’ve survived isn’t enough reassurance, I’m afraid. I want more. I’m a military man, and I’d like to know exactly what it is that I’m stepping into.”

“We take precautions depending on the environment in which we find ourselves,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous.
“Each time the Ambivalence encounters a species, there is a certain pattern to its distribution. We determine that pattern and avoid it. For instance, your species favors G-type stars, so we place the bulk of the
Mantissa
elsewhere for the middle phase of the Ambivalence. When the trailing edge—which scours all systems—approaches, we move forward again.”

“How often do you move?” pressed Axford.

“Every four of your days,” replied Ueh.

“And how long does it take to move the
Mantissa
?”

“Approximately five hours.”

“That’s under normal circumstances, I assume?” said Axford. “But what if the Starfish stumble across you? How quickly can you get away?”

“This has happened on occasions in the past,” conceded
Status Quo/Mellifluous.
“The
Mantissa
is equipped for emergency dissipation. We can disengage the bulk of our hole ships in ten of your minutes. Since a large proportion of our infrastructure comprises ordinary matter and needs to be ferried through unspace, a complete evacuation can take anything up to two hours. Reassembling the
Mantissa
takes much longer, of course. It is not something we attempt lightly.”

“No doubt,” said Hatzis. “I can see now why you’re so nervous about kicking the anthill.”

A confused chatter peppered the dark with a variety of aromas.

“We do not understand your metaphor,” said Ueh after a moment.

“You’re careful not to upset the equilibrium,” Hatzis explained. “And why should you, when life is so comfortable for you?”

“It’s comfortable only on the surface,” said
Radical/Provocative.
“It hides a rot that will eventually consume us all.”

“I agree,” Axford said. “But how far would you go to prevent that rot? Would you be prepared to provoke the Starfish? I mean, the Ambivalence?”