The Starfarers Quartet Omnibus

by Vonda N. McIntyre

  “The other passenger’s here already. Spacesuit and all. Came up in the elevator.”

  J.D. laughed. “I said I was in a hurry, but I didn’t even think of the elevator.” She turned. “Zev...”

  Esther ducked into the Chi, leaving them alone.

  J.D. and Zev kissed, long and slow. J.D. broke away reluctantly.

  “Goodbye,” Zev said. “Swim with sharks, J.D.”

  J.D. grinned at Zev’s use of the divers’ blessing for good fortune and excitement. She touched off, leaping toward the Chi’s hatch.

  o0o

  After the meeting, Satoshi started putting together a committee to organize the delegation to the Farther worlds. He invited Europa to join them; the alien human accepted.

  It would sure make things easier, Stephen Thomas thought, if the Minoans took us to Largerfarther on their ship.

  Neither the transport nor the Chi had that much range. J.D. could take them on Nautilus, but a trip across a star system while living in an expedition tent did not sound like much fun. On the other hand, traveling on the Four Worlds spaceship, with its contingent of Largerfarthings and Smallerfarthings, would be quite an experience.

  Crimson pleased Androgeos by inviting him to help prepare for the arrival of the Farther worlds’ archaeologists.

  Victoria conferred with Infinity and Jenny Dupre about the stability of Starfarer’s ecosystem with relation to its orbit.

  “Stephen Thomas.”

  Professor Thanthavong sat beside him on the terrace.

  “You were right,” she said.

  “What?”

  “The dendritic molecules. They’re extremely stable.”

  “My preparations were okay.” He retreated from flowering relief, then gave up trying to keep control and laughed with pleasure.

  “They were indeed. Mind you, I’m not entirely convinced the molecules carry genetic information —” She held up one hand to stop his protest. “But I am leaning in that direction.”

  “I have some ideas about what’s going on,” Stephen Thomas said all in a rush. “What if the squidmoths use stable genetic molecules on purpose?”

  She frowned, considering. “That would eliminate their potential for evolution. Would you do that?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I can evolve any way I want.” He spread his fingers, stretching the new swimming webs. “And squidmoths have been around a lot longer than we have.”

  “Of course,” Thanthavong said. “Of course! I don’t think of them as being technological creatures, but they are. More than we are. They’re just so different.”

  “Maybe they don’t want to change,” he said.

  “It is possible.”

  “Can I come back to the lab now?” he asked. He waited, fighting his nerves, for her to answer. When she hesitated, he defended himself. “I wasn’t nuts to think the dendritic molecules might be genetic —”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

  “And I didn’t screw up the preparations.”

  “I’m worried about you,” she said. “Not squidmoth genetics and not the preparations. You.”

  She peered at him closely, narrowing her eyes. Thanthavong was not short-sighted. Stephen Thomas felt like she was trying to see through his skin.

  “You are more composed than last time we spoke.”

  “Some things... changed,” he said. “It’s complicated.” He made himself go over their last conversation. “I sounded pretty crazy, didn’t I?” he said. “I guess I was. It’s better now.”

  “Hmm,” Professor Thanthavong said.

  A few terraces above, Stephen Thomas’s graduate students watched the conversation anxiously. Lehua decided it was safe — or decided to take the risk that it was not — and climbed down the grassy steps. Mitch and Bay trailed in the wake of her energy and her long, fine red hair.

  A few paces away, Lehua hesitated.

  “Come sit,” Professor Thanthavong said.

  The students joined them, Lehua crosslegged, intent, Bay lying on his stomach and pillowing his chin on his fists, Mitch sprawling and fidgety, gazing across the amphitheater where Gerald and Fox spoke together, he intensely, she with agitation.

  I wonder, Stephen Thomas thought, if Fox knows Gerald’s got no biocontrol. He’d tell her, wouldn’t he? Someone should warn her, but she’d never believe me.

  “Stephen Thomas has some thoughts about squidmoths,” Professor Thanthavong said. “About stable genetic molecules.”

  “It makes sense,” Stephen Thomas said, forgetting Fox and the acting chancellor. “If the squidmoths decided not to change, it’d explain why the molecule’s so complex. The hypothesis predicts heavy-duty repair enzymes. It predicts that if the molecule does change, it won’t work at all. Intentional stasis.”

  “The squidmoths are constructs?” Lehua asked. “Like the Smallernearer?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Stephen Thomas said. “But it’s sure possible. Or they engineered themselves. Decided they liked the way they are. Maybe even changed the nature of their own genes.”

  “I wonder how long they’ve been the same?” Mitch said. “Nemo was a million years old.”

  “In a few generations, that turns into real time,” Bay said, straight-faced.

  Stephen Thomas chuckled. They all burst into laughter.

  Lehua jumped up. “Let’s go to the lab —” She stopped, remembering that Stephen Thomas had been banished. “I’m so sorry,” she said. Then she remembered no one was supposed to know he had been banished. “I’ll just go try to pull my foot out of my mouth —”

  Stephen Thomas turned toward Professor Thanthavong.

  “Let’s all go to the lab.” Thanthavong smiled at him. “Welcome home.”

  o0o

  The Chi touched the cratered surface of Nautilus. The exhaust spread silver-gray dust. As soon as the Chi powered down, J.D. jumped out of her couch. Beyond the transparent wall of the observer’s circle, a hundred meters across the barren plain, Kolya and Griffith left the expedition tent and loped toward them. J.D. and Esther went to the airlock. Late fluttered behind them, walking on his pincers and the corners of his suit. Nervous about travelling in such a small, primitive craft, he had worn the spacesuit during the trip.

  While she was putting on her spacesuit, J.D. thought, I’ve got to find out how to build connectors like Civilization’s. Build, or is it grow? It would be much more convenient if the tent could attach its door to the Chi’s hatch, like Nemo’s webbing did.

  Late rippled and slid into the airlock.

  “You could let me out while you dress,” he said. “I could be on my way to the boat. I needn’t bother you any more.”

  “Could you give me a hand?” Esther asked J.D. “No pun intended.” Her bandaged hands were awkward with the fastenings.

  “Sure,” J.D. said.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” J.D. said to Late, ignoring his suggestion. “Back on the Four Worlds ship, when you introduced me to the Representative...”

  “That’s long past,” Late said nervously.

  “I heard my voice, and I heard your voice. But I didn’t hear his voice.”

  “You heard... my voice.”

  She waited for more explanation. Late lay like an overlarge rug in the small airlock, his edges lapped up against the walls, fluttering anxiously.

  “You heard me,” he said. “I knew what the Representative wanted. He did not need to expend motion.”

  “Weird hospitality!” Esther exclaimed.

  “Not weird,” Late said with dignity, “to us.”

  “Thanks for telling me the truth,” J.D. said.

  She fastened Esther’s helmet, then put on her own. Late rumpled against one wall to give J.D. and Esther floor space. When they had wedged into the airlock, its cycle began. Kolya and Griffith waited outside the Chi.

  “Are you all right?” Kolya spoke through the suit radios.

  “We’re fine, we’re on our way,” J.D. said. Why
didn’t he use the link? she wondered, then startled herself by realizing how comfortable she had become with direct communication.

  The airlock opened. She stepped onto the ground of her home. Nautilus greeted her. She had expected the knowledge surface to feel the same. Instead, proximity gave her an impression of satisfaction, of welcome.

  She fell toward her expanded link, stumbled slightly as she forgot about her body, caught herself, and backed off.

  Just a little while longer, she thought. A little while longer and I’ll be alone, I’ll have some peace and quiet.

  Late galumphed across the dusty plain toward the Representative’s boat. Esther and Kolya embraced, awkward in their spacesuits. Griffith waited at a distance.

  “Thank you for your help, Mr. Griffith,” J.D. said. “Joining us must have been difficult for you. I’m grateful.”

  “Yeah,” he said uncomfortably. “Well.” He shrugged, clenched his fingers, relaxed them. “I mean, thanks.”

  “Look,” Esther said.

  Across the plain, Late dove head-first into the Representative’s space boat. Broken bits of precious stone, the remnants of the Representative’s shattered leg-tips, tumbled out onto Nautilus’s surface. The rear of Late’s suit fluttered and flexed.

  “Don’t do that,” J.D. called to him. She loped across the ancient dust. Her curious colleagues followed.

  J.D. picked up one of the diamond shards and tossed it into the Representative’s boat.

  Late threw it out again. J.D. picked it up. Late reared above her, blocking the boat’s opening.

  “The pieces,” he said. “will bounce around and cut me. The edges are very sharp.”

  “They’re valuable. The Representative might want them back.”

  “He will not,” Late said, “want them back. I promise you. Don’t make me take them with me, please.”

  He took the huge diamond. He rotated it, flashing rainbow starlight from its broken edge. “The value,” he said, twisting his forward edge toward Esther. “Of the stones. Would the value approach a fair compensation for the hurt we did to you?”

  Kolya grasped her arm before she could reply.

  “It would begin to approach,” he said. “But she could not accept it as a complete settlement. She would have to discuss the situation with a lawyer. Her lawyer would have to discuss the situation with... whatever your equivalent of a lawyer is.”

  “A lawyer,” Late said, and, at J.D.’s surprised yelp of laughter, added, “We aren’t so different after all, I think.”

  “What do you say?” J.D. stretched her link toward Europa, asking the Minoan’s advice. Europa replied with reassurance... and amusement.

  “It’s a beginning,” Esther said. “As long as it doesn’t obligate Starfarer to anything.”

  “Very well. Late, you may leave the rocks for Esther. In return, I’ll transmit your promise.” She indicated one of the LTMs clinging to her suit. “Esther’s claim against Smallerfarther isn’t settled yet.”

  “I agree.” The edges of his spacesuit ruffled as he placed the fist-sized chunk of diamond at Esther’s feet. “I am the new elder of my line, and I regret the injury we caused. Please accept all these stones as a token — only a token — of our restitution.”

  “Thank you,” Esther said.

  “I must go,” Late said.

  With no more ceremony, Late inchwormed into the open boat, flipped the rest of the jewels out of the chamber, and let the boat close around him.

  Esther stood, bemused, in the midst of a scatter of precious stones.

  Kolya, being practical, pulled a sample bag from the thigh pocket of his spacesuit.

  “They’ll be easier to pick up now than after the boat’s exhaust covers them with dust.”

  They collected the uncut jewels while the space boat knit its opening. A few spurts of gas, a shower of ice crystals, leaked from it, then it sealed around its developing atmosphere. J.D. imagined Late inside — had he flattened himself to the floor, or was he already metamorphosing into a new and different being, his spines extending to the walls, his body contracting into a ball of brindled fur, eyes appearing — ? And what had happened to the Representative, what did he look like now?

  Esther and Kolya and Griffith boarded the Chi; J.D. entered the expedition tent. As soon as everyone was safe, the Smallerfarthing space boat powered up, spurted exhaust, and rose into the sky.

  As J.D. took off her space suit, Esther projected her image into the tent.

  “We’ll be off and leave you in peace,” she said. “Just give a shout when you want to come home.”

  “Thanks,” J.D. said. She grinned. “I want to see the necklace you make with those stones.”

  Esther held a chunk of raw diamond against her throat.

  “Ugly, huh? But when EarthSpace tells me they’ve fired my ass, I won’t care too much. And if I get arrested, I can hire a lawyer.” She grinned ruefully. “Two lawyers. I’ve never hired a lawyer before, and now I need one in each star system. Is anybody on board a lawyer?”

  “I don’t think so,” J.D. said. “Remember? Gerald said no one was qualified to defend Chancellor Blades.”

  Victoria, back on Starfarer, joined the conversation. Her image constructed itself like a pointillist painting in the expedition tent. “That was a barrister,” she said. “What Esther needs here is a solicitor.”

  “You guys aren’t serious, are you?” Esther said. “I mean, I’m not going to sue the Four Worlds.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Infinity Mendez said, projecting his image near Victoria’s.

  Satoshi joined the conversation. “You could let them sweat about it for a while.”

  Esther laughed.

  “We’re on our way,” she said. “Bye, J.D. Remember what I said about the starship-flying classes.”

  Her image faded. Victoria waved, and disappeared; Satoshi did the same. Infinity’s image turned translucent.

  “Infinity,” J.D. said. “How are things — ?”

  “Still stable.” His image steadied. “There’s a good cushion of rock foam above the nest now. I rerouted most of the plumbing — left some water for the kid. We should be okay.”

  “Thanks.”

  He disappeared.

  Outside, the Chi lifted off.

  J.D. was alone.

  She drank some water, used the bathroom, and settled herself comfortably into one of the two air-foam chairs. Like the furniture in her office, it was too soft and too low for her tastes.

  I wonder, she thought, if Starfarer could spare one of the silver slugs for a while — No, two of them, a lithoblast and a lithoclast — to build a little rock-foam house and some furniture frames. I’ll have to ask Infinity... he’s been testy, lately, about people borrowing them... Can’t blame him, they’re guarding the chancellor, and the squidmoth, and doing all their regular work, too... Maybe when we go home I could buy a pair of silver slugs from EarthSpace.

  When we go home. She was assuming that the cosmic string would soon return to the solar system. She was assuming Starfarer, and Nautilus, would gain complete freedom. She had no proof for the assumptions, yet she believed them.

  Everything’s going to be all right, J.D. thought, with wonder. It’s going to be all right. We’ll be able to go home. We’ll be able to take the senators back. Ruth will be all right. We can hand Blades over to EarthSpace, and when it comes out what happened, he’ll come to justice. With whoever sent him. Whoever caused Feral’s death.

  J.D. touched the knowledge surface. Its arcs and volumes rose around her like the cliffs and crevasses of an ancient glacier. Victoria’s algorithm had integrated itself into the fabric of Nemo’s ghost mind. The surface selected transition points, pinpointing the most complex kinks and knots of 61 Cygni’s resident cosmic string, solving their equations, seeking destinations farther and farther away.

  The pattern of the destinations formed a tear-drop shape. The point aimed toward the center of the Milky Way, as i
f the knowledge surface sought a deliberate path.

  Is it purposeful, J.D. wondered? Or chance, or an artifact of the string? Why would anyone want to go to the center of the Milky Way, where Nautilus could never survive?

  Nemo had tried to explain where squidmoths came from: the far side of the galaxy, beyond the center, beyond the concealing clouds of dust and star-stuff.

  Is the knowledge surface looking for a way to its home? she wondered. The way we always look first for a way back to Earth?

  The surface did not answer her question. The pattern could be a coincidence. Besides, the path as yet traversed only a tiny fraction of the distance to the center of the galaxy. At this rate, J.D. would be long dead, Nautilus passed on to someone else, through several generations, before the starship could trace a route beyond this arm of the Milky Way.

  She turned her attention inward, where the core of Nautilus existed as a heavy scent of energy. She found the echoes of Nemo’s tunnels, the vessels of Nemo’s web: too easy to equate them with the blood vessels of a human being. They were different. She found the chamber where Stephen Thomas had watched the attendants struggle and dismember each other in a pool of acid. All that was left now was a crust of crystals, a miasma of sublimating, corrosive oxides, a perception that prickled uncomfortably in her mind.

  The chamber where the oxygen-producing creatures grew, where they breathed out gases tinged with hydrocarbons, lay empty and silent.

  The air in the tent is clean, J.D. thought, recycled to purity, as flat as the guest water.

  She missed the bite of Nemo’s atmosphere.

  She found Esther’s reservoir of water ice spreading frozen tendrils through the starship’s body. It contained enough water for a passable small sea. But surface water, without an atmosphere, would boil away into space.

  That’s going to be my problem, J.D. thought. Keeping enough air for a habitable environment. What does it take to terraform a starship? How much does it cost?

  She could not use Earth’s credit, built up over the centuries by Europa’s efforts. Then both EarthSpace and the United States would have a real claim on Nautilus.

  What about my own work? J.D. thought. I do wonder what the Four Worlds would think of my novel.