Ruslan found the string of accusations disorienting. The Vrizan was trying to make him feel guilty about wanting to keep Earth from becoming home to another species. No wonder Abinahhs had been chosen to confront him. The alien’s forensic talents extended beyond linguistics.
“There is one thing that might persuade my government to abandon its claim, though you would have to deal separately with the Myssari and all other claimants. And were the Vrizan to withdraw, I assure you there would be others. One thing that we would regard as more valuable than this world.”
At first angry, then frustrated, Ruslan was now bewildered. “I don’t have anything to trade. Everything I have are gifts from the Myssari.”
“Then you affirm you are not a scientist, and avow you know nothing of the science of the great plague that exterminated your kind, or its origins?”
Shock replaced bewilderment. “Why on…Earth”—he had to smile at the irony inherent in his words—“would you want to know anything about the Aura Malignance? Even if I knew something about it, the details would be of no use to you. While I personally don’t know much beyond the fact that it destroyed my civilization and my species, I do know that the active vector affected only human beings. Not other mammals, not even close relatives like lesser primates. Only Homo sapiens. It would be useless to you.”
The elongated head turned directly toward the specimen. “You underestimate the capabilities of Vrizan science. Our biologists are very competent. A variant that could be held in reserve for use only as a final defensive weapon would be a potent deterrent against any threat to my species. Since we are a more mature race than humankind, such a development would be engineered so that it could pose no threat to us.”
Which meant, Ruslan realized, that any genetic manipulation of the Aura Malignance would be targeted against possible adversaries of the Vrizan. The Myssari, for example.
“I’m sure you have highly skilled experts in the field of biological warfare.” On arrival at the settlement the peaceful surroundings had lulled him into relaxing. That was gone now, the first stirrings of tranquility purged by Abinahhs’s alarming words. “Whatever you may think of us, it can’t be any worse than what we thought of ourselves. Arrogance was the end of humanity, not the plague.”
“Then we will be safe and all will be well.” Abinahhs was quietly reassuring. “The Vrizan are not arrogant.” Though the small tooth-lined mouth twisted slightly, Ruslan was not confident enough to call it a smile. “Loud at times, perhaps. Dynamic certainly. But not arrogant. Particularly dangerous research is carried out on quarantined artificial stations or otherwise uninhabited moons. In weapons research, isolation is the key to safety. Your kind forgot that.”
It was an observation with which Ruslan did not feel qualified to quarrel.
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t help you reconstruct the Aura Malignance. Before society collapsed on my homeworld of Seraboth, I was a mid-level administrator. I’m only special genetically.” He touched the fingers of his left hand to the side of his head. “Up here I’m unremittingly ordinary.” Once again he had to decide on which of the Vrizan’s widely spaced eyes to focus. “You can imprison me, torture me, it doesn’t matter: I can’t give up information I don’t possess.”
Both of the Vrizan’s eyes rolled upward in their highly flexible sockets as Abinahhs’s tone wavered. “You think us so much less civilized than the Myssari that we would resort to such methods? I do not know whether to feel hurt or sadness.”
“The Myssari didn’t abduct me from Seraboth.”
The alien eyes returned to him. “It would have been preferred that you change your living arrangements voluntarily. I can assure you that this forced repositioning was not done lightly. In the end the desperate need of the Integument for a human’s insight into the history of your kind overrode all other considerations. Any possible knowledge of the workings of the great plague you might have possessed aside.”
Ruslan nodded sagely. “And if I refuse to cooperate in your researches into the history of my kind, what then? Will my refusal override all other considerations and ‘such methods’ of persuasion then come into play?”
Abinahhs was on the verge of replying when the ground shook. The decorative waterfall ceased flowing into the ornamental pool. Dust fell in slow motion from the ceiling as a shadow momentarily dimmed the illumination in the room. As light was restored the Vrizan replied to a comment in his own language that briefly sounded from an unseen source. Initially shaken, Ruslan now relaxed and allowed himself a slight smile.
“I don’t know who you’re talking to but I can guess. My friends have arrived.”
Speaking anew in Myssarian, a plainly disturbed Abinahhs stared at him. A second concussion rattled the chamber. “It is not possible for them to have found you so soon. All electronic emissions from the gear you carry are systematically blocked.”
Leaning back in the sandstone-hued but responsive seat, Ruslan shrugged. “I don’t know how they’ve done it either, and damn quick, too.” His smile widened. “The Vrizan aren’t the only ones who can boast of advanced technologies.”
* * *
—
With neither the Vrizan settlers and scientists nor the recent Myssari arrivals prepared for a military encounter, both sides were limited to deploying small arms intended only to repel dangerous terrestrial lifeforms. Escorted out of the research complex and onto the surface, Ruslan found himself wishing for a club, or better yet a spear. The nexus of a potential conflict, he was the only one who was defenseless.
In the center of the settlement’s scientific station, an artesian well tapped by the settlers supplied a rotating series of free-floating tubes. Water leaped from one suspended, brightly colored tube to another, arcs of liquid soaring through the air like wingless flying fish. He blinked at the brightness of sunlight that was harsher here than at the landing site chosen by the Myssari. How had they located him if, as an abashed Abinahhs claimed, the broadcast from his locator unit had been smothered?
The composure he had successfully maintained ever since his capture was shaken by the sight of Cherpa among the grim-faced Myssari who had come for him.
“Bogo!” She had to raise her voice to make herself heard above the harmonious rush of flying water. “Have they hurt you?”
“I’m fine.” Brightly tinted, irregularly shaped hydrothermic tiles beneath his feet helped to cool the air around him. He looked to his left. Abinahhs was not armed, but the several dozen Vrizan who accompanied him were.
He wondered why they had brought him out of the underground reception room when they could have rushed him to some hidden cell. Then he realized that if the Myssari had managed to track him down so far from their landing site, they would likely have no trouble locating him within this single settlement. By bringing him out and showing that he was safe and unharmed, the Vrizan were being preemptive in defense of their actions. Justifying them, however, would require circumlocutions of logic he doubted would satisfy the Myssari. His friends would want him back. He smiled to himself. Even if they were for some reason amenable to a loan of some kind, a furious Cherpa was not going to permit it. One of the Myssari—through the intense sunlight it looked like Cor’rin—had to keep putting all three hands on the enraged young woman’s right forearm to keep her from drawing her sidearm.
“How did you find me?” he called out. The Myssari expedition’s second-in-command, an unusually tall and slender intermet named Jih’hune, stepped forward.
“It is a matter of some sensitivity and therefore questionable as to whether or not I am authorized to provide an explanation.”
Ruslan stared back. “Are you afraid of exposing something to the Vrizan?” Beside him, Abinahhs rippled an arm.
Jih’hune hesitated, then came to a decision on his own. “The sensitivity to which I refer involves you personally. It is not a question of technolog
ical exclusion. I was not instructed that you not be told. Merely that the information not be volunteered.”
“You’re not volunteering,” Ruslan snapped. “I’m asking.”
The intermet’s discomfort was increasing proportionate to the number of armed Vrizan who continued to arrive, but the group of tightly packed Myssari held their ground.
“When you were found on Seraboth, it was instantly recognized that Myssari science had acquired an invaluable asset. One my people would be distressed to lose.”
An impatient Ruslan waved the words away. “I’m reminded of my value daily. What has that got to do with how you found me?”
“Measures were taken during the initial medical examinations to ensure that what was found could not be lost.” When a still-bemused Ruslan did not comment, Jih’hune continued. His tone was not quite apologetic. “Your circulatory system was infused with a harmless but permanent biological marker. To the right equipment the unique signature is detectable even from high orbit. In any ecology you stand out, Ruslan. When you did not return from your last walk and we were unable to contact you, a call went out to our supply ship in orbit. With the landing site as locus, scans were performed in widening concentric circles until your personal identifier was finally located. It took some time; otherwise we would have arrived here sooner.” Looking past the human, the intermet glanced at Abinahhs.
“In the course of searching for our friend, we encountered the inadequately masked electronic signatures of your base here. That in turn rendered locating him much easier.”
From specimen to friend in a few sentences, Ruslan mused. The Myssari second-in-command was not untrained in the art of negotiation. Cherpa, on the other hand…
“Let him go or I’ll permanently divide the space between your eyes!” She continued to wrestle with Cor’rin as the Myssari researcher struggled to keep the human’s weapon holstered.
“We desired nothing more than a few moments of private conversation.” Once again Abinahhs’s strange mouth contorted. “Surely as Myssari you can appreciate that.”
Bac’cul stepped forward. Ruslan had not noticed him among the arrivals until now. “You have had more than enough time alone with our property, whose return we would now appreciate.”
So much for his brief sojourn as a “friend,” Ruslan thought. He was back to being a specimen again.
“As civilized beings,” Abinahhs replied smoothly, “you will appreciate that the ‘property’ may have an opinion of its own in this matter.” The elongated skull turned to face Ruslan. “I apologize for the method employed to bring you here. That need not affect your choice of destinies.” With one arm gesturing as sinuously as a snake swimming on the surface of a lake, he indicated the anxious Myssari. “Ruslan, you may return to whatever life they have provided for you. Or you can remain here, with us, and we will deed you a continent.”
He blinked. “Excuse me? A continent?”
“Whichever one you choose. It will be defined as your personal property. No Vrizan will set foot on it without your permission.” One limber hand waved at Cherpa. “This is the first we know of the existence of a mature human female. From my own personal studies of your kind, she would appear to be of breeding age. You could reseed your homeworld. We would be happy to assist.”
The growing tension on the Myssari side was palpable. Ruslan ignored it. He also volunteered nothing about the children already maturing on Myssar. “And what would you want in return?”
“To watch. To observe. To study how a species as bewildering as yours regenerates itself. To teach you and to learn from you.”
Ruslan considered. “What if I lay claim to the whole planet?”
Abinahhs was equally firm in denial. “You have no claim to it. Though it is the homeworld of your species, it has been devoid of sentient life for a considerable time and is therefore a legitimate site for colonization. You cannot even claim it as your personal home, as you come from another world entirely. The Integument is in a position to make good use of it. Without an immense and likely unavailable amount of direct assistance, you are unable to do so.”
“The Myssari could provide assistance as extensive as anything you can promise.”
Abinahhs made no attempt to deny it. “That is true. But they have no claim to this world. Not even an automatic survey drone has preceded this first visit of theirs. In any formal dispute between governments, they would be forced to contend with our conflicting and already well-established position.” Looking past Ruslan, he raised his voice. His Myssarian was perfectly intelligible.
“What of this matter, triploids? Will you dispute the Vrizan claim to this world? Will you fight for it?”
Jih’hune replied far more quickly than Ruslan would have liked.
“At this point in time we exert claim only to our friend, the human Ruslan. The Vrizan presence here has been noted. It will be discussed, but not here, now, or by us. As you are surely aware, as an expeditionary study force we hold no diplomatic portfolio.”
A stunned Cherpa turned to the Myssari who continued to exert a restraining grip on the young woman’s right arm. “What’s he saying? You’re giving the Vrizan the Earth?”
“We are giving them nothing.” The researcher looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “As Jih’hune declared, the matter will be discussed. By higher authorities than ourselves.” Turning her head ninety degrees, she indicated the now substantial crowd of armed Vrizan that had gathered to watch the confrontation. “It cannot be denied that they have a valid claim. This settlement is far more than a study outpost. As we slowed to land here I could see evidence of the beginnings of both agriculture and mining. Such developments declare their intentions far more unarguably than recorded words. And there may well be other such bases as this. It will be difficult to dislodge them.”
Blue eyes widened. “So you’re not going to fight for my homeworld?”
Cor’rin stiffened. “As you say, Earth is your homeworld. We would not fight for Daribb; we might do so for Seraboth. Colonization claims are much about precedence and the establishment of community. We can assert that for Ruslan’s homeworld but not for Daribb. And most assuredly not for Earth. It may be your ancient homeworld, but to the Combine as well as to the Vrizan it is only one more habitable world among hundreds. Valuable, yes. Worth fighting over, most likely not.” Removing one hand from Cherpa’s arm, she gestured at the Vrizan with the other two.
“As concerns Ruslan himself, I am not worried about their weapons. I am worried about their offer. By any standards it is generous.”
Setting aside for the moment any notions of interceding with violence, a suddenly concerned Cherpa joined the researcher in staring across the colorful pavement at the man who had been her mentor and who was, however indirectly, the father of her offspring.
“You don’t seriously—you don’t think Bogo will accept? Do you?”
“As I said: a generous offer. As we learned on Daribb, the Vrizan badly want access to the knowledge only a live human can give them. They need not have offered to do anything but match what we have provided. Instead, they have gone beyond that. What they have proposed is considerably more beguiling. A vast locale on the human homeworld itself where your kind might regenerate entirely free from all but requested and permitted outside help.”
“It doesn’t matter. He won’t accept.” Cherpa straightened. “I know Bogo. He’s going to turn them down.”
Small bright eyes regarded her from beneath inflexible bony brows. “How can you be so certain?”
“Because while Bogo may be human, he’s also become part Myssari.”
“I and my kind are flattered.” Cor’rin made a gesture rich with gratitude. But she did not take her third hand off Cherpa’s gun arm. “For discussion’s sake, though, if he should prove your assessment wrong, what will you do? Will you return with us to the outpost or will you
go with him?”
Cherpa did not reply. It was a possibility she had not considered. It was one she did not want to consider.
The Myssari were silent, waiting. It was left to the gathering Vrizan to murmur and mutter among themselves. Only those who were members of the scientific community, led by Abinahhs, understood what was at stake. Having waited through an increasingly tense silence on the part of the human specimen, the Vrizan researcher was visibly relieved when Ruslan’s eyes finally turned back to him.
“You know,” Ruslan said calmly, “if you had never brought up the subject of learning the secrets of the Aura Malignance, I might seriously have considered accepting your offer.” He shook his head. “In contrast, no request of the sort was ever broached to me by the Myssari, not ever. It makes my choice easy.” So saying, he turned away and started across the open plaza that haloed the wonderful fountain. No Vrizan moved to stop him. Any one of them could have raised a weapon and easily brought him down, he knew. Shot or paralyzed him right in the back. He knew nothing of the sort would happen. However covetous of another species’ property, one did not risk damage to it if it happened to be an irreplaceable scientific specimen.
Pulling away from Cor’rin and separating herself from the band of armed Myssari, Cherpa slammed into him so hard and wrapped her arms around him so tightly that he nearly lost his footing.
“Bogo! I told Cor’rin you wouldn’t stay with the Vrizan. I told her!”
She was right, he knew, but perhaps not for the reasons she thought.
Relic Page 25
