Neptune Crossing
Page 37
*
As it turned out, a portion of the datanet was back up, though not the connection to the inner solar system. Bandicut saw nothing to suggest that any connection had been made between the net crash and his own presence, which was a considerable relief. And Charlie was presently only interested in the general history files, which were easily available in the local library.
The quarx spun through chapter after chapter of human history, while Bandicut, feeling a bit like a kid tagging along after a more knowledgeable older kid, glanced at some of the more interesting bits as Charlie scanned. From time to time, Charlie asked him for further illumination on historical questions, and almost invariably, he had to plead ignorance. History had never been a great interest of his.
/// But you know that your history
is full of violence among your own kind,
don’t you? ///
/Of course. So what?/ Bandicut answered in irritation. They had covered all four of Earth’s world wars, then jumped back to the Roman and Greek wars, then ahead to the crucifixion of Christ, then forward again to the Inquisitions and the Crusades. /What are you looking for exactly?/
/// Information . . . understanding.
For the social-attractor analysis.
And, to be honest, my own curiosity.
Look at this—
Nation after nation destroyed, subjugated,
entire peoples living under coercion . . .
murder, mayhem, rape, thievery.
It goes on and on,
all through the history of your species. ///
/Are you reciting all this just to make me depressed?/
/// No, no, I want to know your thoughts.
Do you know why this is true?
None of these experts seem to agree. ///
/Yes, well, what do you expect from experts? No, I have no idea. Just human nature, I guess. Isn’t it like that everywhere?/ He was surprised by the quarx’s puzzlement.
/// Actually, no.
I mean, it happens—yes.
But many sentient races reserve their violence
for outsiders. ///
Bandicut thought about that. /Really? You mean, we’re more violent than most?/
/// Among yourselves, yes.
The odd thing is that you seem to accept it—
even relatively nonviolent individuals like you. ///
/I—well—now, just a mokin’ minute. I don’t accept nothin’—but that doesn’t mean I can do anything about it. How would you change a whole race’s behavior pattern, if you’re so damn smart?/
/// I have no idea.
Fortunately, that is not my problem.
Not this time, anyway. ///
/Well, aren’t you just the lucky one!/
/// I didn’t mean to be critical, John.
Anyway,
there’s much about your race that’s admirable.
Your art and literature.
Okay, some of it stinks.
Rock and roll music, for instance.
TV.
But there’s your science, such as it is— ///
/What’s that supposed to mean?/
/// —your philosophies and religions,
and individual acts of sacrifice and genius.
But I’m puzzled by a certain . . .
suicidal instinct. ///
Bandicut scowled ineffectually. /Are you done making your point? What do you want to look at now?/
The quarx hesitated.
/// Well, I hope this doesn’t upset you, but . . .
I need to know about your planetary defenses. ///
Bandicut nearly jerked them out of the neurolink. /Hey!/
/// Moke, I knew it would upset you.
John, I’m not planning an invasion.
I mean your defenses against natural disasters. ///
/Oh./ Bandicut glared suspiciously for a moment, then reflected that anything on the public boards was probably not very critical in terms of security, anyway. He unclenched, and they dived together into a new area of the library files.
/// This is unbelievable, ///
Charlie said after studying the civil and planetary defense systems around Earth.
/What’s unbelievable?/
/// Your complacency!
You settle on floodplains,
on earthquake faults,
on mud cliffs;
you leave your skies undefended . . . ///
/That’s not true! Not that last part, anyway./
The quarx dismissed his objections.
/// You defend yourselves against each other, yes.
But against natural calamity?
What would you do if your sun became unstable? ///
/How the hell would I know? Run around waving our hands, I suppose. What could we do?/
/// You’d be surprised at the solutions
some races have come up with.
But your people seem to think, on the one hand,
that they’re helpless—
and on the other, that they’re immortal. ///
/What’s your point, Charlie?/ Bandicut demanded angrily.
/// My point is,
your vulnerability to a comet or asteroid strike.
You have no defense! ///
/Well—/ Bandicut swallowed, trying to think of a way to argue, but there was none. /There were some defense systems for a while—but I guess they were too expensive to maintain./
/// Expensive?
How much is your civilization worth? ///
/I don’t know. What the hell kind of a question is that?/
Charlie brushed aside the protest.
/// Do you know what killed off the dinosaurs? ///
Of course he knew. A large asteroid strike. /But that was millions of years ago,/ he said feebly.
/// You see?
That’s exactly what I mean.
You never think it’ll happen to you.
The K’loing were like that, too.
You want to know what happened to them? ///
/No./
/// They’re dead now. ///
/I said I didn’t want to know. Look—don’t blame me for my race’s failings./
/// I’m not.
But your own scientists have pointed out
that the same thing could happen to humanity.
And yet nothing is done. ///
Bandicut squirmed. /Well, I suppose most people think the danger is too remote. I’m not defending that—exactly—but anyway, most of the hazardous asteroids are tracked routinely./
Charlie was silent a moment, troubled.
/// But it is going to happen—
unless you and I stop it. ///
Bandicut swallowed. /So . . . you say./
/// Charlie-One said it.
And you trusted him—more than you trust me. ///
/I—/
The quarx chuckled with surprising ease.
/// That’s all right.
We both know it. ///
Charlie was silent for a moment, then said softly,
/// I fear that time is growing short. ///
Bandicut suddenly shivered with fear. /Then shouldn’t we—I mean—what about the translator?/
/// The translator is aware of the time, ///
Charlie said reassuringly.
/// It would find some way to let us know,
rather than let the Earth be hit
. . . I think. ///
/You THINK?/
/// Well, I know it plans for us
to take action.
But it has to let us know what action.
And unfortunately,
it strongly prefers to remain unseen. ///
Bandicut nearly erupted with frustration. /Why doesn’t it just tell us in the open, for God’s sake?/
The quarx was silent another moment.
/// Its creators desired
that its existence remain concealed
from most of those it serves.
I do not know the reason. ///
Bandicut could only stare helplessly into the silent, winking dataspace. /Oh, well, that’s great . . . just great . . ./