by Ian Miller
"Yes, and we mishandled it. Please, I'm embarrassed enough about this already. Anyway, it's led us into this mess, and you are the only one who can possibly recover the situation. Your mere presence will be evidence that current Terrans are looking for peace, and can enter the ranks of the advanced societies. You can recover the situation and give Earth a chance."
"The third battleship will also greatly improve our survival chances," Lucilla added, "but remember, Natasha, this mission is highly dangerous. There's every chance the Ranhynn will turn on us, so if you're going to come, it must be because you accept it is the right thing to do."
"You think things are that bad?"
"Yes! And no!" Kazyn interjected. "Yes, my people might turn on you. But no, I shall warn you and protect you!"
"In which case you'll be the one needing protecting," Hadell grunted, nodding her head in disbelief. "Mind you, you'll probably need that anyway."
"One more thing," Lucilla said quietly. "I know in your terms this is none of my business, but it really would help if you could finalize your relationship with Gaius, one way or the other."
"Sisterly concern?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Lucilla replied, with a mixture of crossness and embarrassment. "Well, maybe yes. But that's not the point. You two will have to trust each other implicitly, and be totally comfortable with each other's decisions."
"Then I'd better go and see Gaius. He deserves to be the one to receive my answer."
"Please say yes," Kazyn implored.
"Time to do my duty, you think?"
"You could find it interesting as well," Kazyn tempted. "If you could take me to the inner planet, we could hunt dinosaurs. Real dinosaurs! Carnivores twelve meters high! No other human has ever done that!"
"You mean, there's more than one planet with life?"
"Our system's not like your solar system," Hadell explained, "The equivalent of Venus has been modified. It is about as far from the star, and as close to Ranh as it can be, without being in an unstable orbit. It supports dinosaurs, which have not evolved further. The equivalent of Mars is much larger than Mars, and it's a lot closer to Ranh than it should be, and it supports mammals. It's the fact that each system has the same DNA base that led us to conclude that there was a commonality of origin."
"You must come!" Kazyn implored.
"It all sounds like a gigantic experiment," Natasha mused.
"That's the conclusion many of us have reached," Hadell commented. "The question is, where is the experimenter?"
"The real question is, what does the experimenter want?" Gelempt said wryly, "and unfortunately, there is another question for both you and the Ranhynn."
"Is the experiment over?" Kazyn shrugged.
"Even Ulse has no idea," Gelempt replied.
"Do you mean . .?" Natasha paused, almost as if she was appalled by the thought.
"Do we mean what?" Kazyn urged.
"Someone could do an experiment that took seventy million years to get an answer?"
"There's even a suggestion," Kazyn shrugged, "that the time period is over nine hundred million years."
"Nine hundred? But . . ."
"You think our planets have been moved? Why do you think that?"
"I guess because they don’t seem to be in the right place," Natasha frowned.
"Well, there's more to it than that," Kazyn nodded. "They don't look like what they ought to if they were moved from where they should be. For example, they all have plenty of water, and they all have plate tectonics, and it's as if they all accreted from the same zone."
"I'm not sure that I follow," Natasha frowned.
"Either they were moved or they were not moved," Kazyn continued. "If they were, how did they accrete like that? If they were not, how did they accrete in those positions, and not where they should have? No matter how you look at it, something very strange happened, and, I should add, it really held back our scientific efforts to understand planets. You may find this hard to believe, but there's one school of thought that the interference began during planetary accretion."
"The general feeling on Ranh is that it is the hand of God at work," Hadell noted, "and the fact that intervention has taken place over nearly a billion years proves the existence of God."
"I suppose the difference between God and some sentient species that can operate over a billion years borders on the academic," Natasha noted.
"Needless to say, Gaius has an alternative theory," Lucilla offered, "which I rather think is even more bizarre."
"And that is?"
"He thinks someone from some civilization's future has been playing God," she said. "He thinks there is temporal interference on an immense scale."
"But that's . . ." She stopped, unable to find words to describe her opinion of such a theory.
"It cuts down the need for a long attention span," Gelempt shrugged. "You can cover a billion years from your office in an afternoon. I should also add that neither Gaius nor any of Ulse's scientists can postulate any possible mechanism by which this could work. Of course that may not mean much because on Ulse all efforts at experimentation on temporal physics are banned." He paused, then added with a shrug, "Personally, I think he's wrong, but I also think it doesn't matter, because there is nothing we can do about interference on that scale, be it God, a sentient master race, or a futuristic temporal would-be God."
"Doesn't this interest Ulse?" Natasha asked. "I mean, you keep complaining that you've discovered nothing in the past twenty million years."
"There's some evidence this is a question to which we won't be permitted to find an answer," Gelempt replied.
"But surely you aren't going to be deterred?" Natasha asked.
"There's one school of thought that the M'starn were goaded into war with us, and shown how to wipe us out, solely to prevent our entering this temporal field and upset whatever the futuristic sentient beings are playing at."
"Yes, but they didn't," Natasha noted, "so that's not very God-like, is it?"
"They would have, but for Gaius' appearance," Gelempt noted wryly, "and one way of looking at it is that Gaius shouldn't have been there, and he shouldn't be like he is."
"What do you mean, he shouldn't be like what he is?"
"A Roman with a modern approach to physics? Further temporal fiddling."
"And what does Gaius say about that?" she asked curiously.
"He is remarkably silent on the issue," Lucilla shrugged. "Personally, I think he likes this theory. It gives him the air of mystery. Also, thanks to information from Marcellus, I am convinced it is true."
"Neither confirm nor deny can be a policy intended to give the impression of confirming," Natasha smiled, then suddenly she paused, as memories poured back. What had he said when he saw her face that first time? 'I rather feel you are truly the ugliest woman in the world.' What a strange comment! Then to her question as to what would happen next, ' Something that is very critical, although I'm not exactly sure what it's supposed to be.' Then later, ' So this is it.' Then there was something else that Harry Lansfeld had said, about the time in the forum. Something about fulfilling prophecies. Either Gaius was demented, which seemed unlikely, or he had been given prophecies, which could equally be messages from the future. But if that were so, perhaps it also meant that her 'accident' had been no accident. Perhaps it was to prepare her, to make her so ugly that she could be instantly identified and . . .
"What's wrong?" she heard Lucilla ask.
"Nothing," she answered. "Why?"
"You looked as though you were suddenly taken somewhere else," Lucilla explained.
"No," she smiled back. "It was just that some of the ramifications of that theory began to strike home. We may all be being played with, made to –"
"No," Gelempt interrupted. "The future cannot make you do anything in particular. You are not a puppet. All it can do is make suggestions, and in the very extreme case to alter the circumstances, and I should say scientists invariably
say they can't really do that because conservation laws state the future cannot send mass or energy from the future into the present. If you like, the most they can do is change the action of the fates."
"Effectively a new time line is started whenever there is an intervention," Hadell noted. "Everybody still has free will, but they might choose differently if a suggestion is made to them, and if they do all the consequences flow into the future. Whatever you choose to do now is your choice under these circumstances."
"Then they could not alter planetary accretion," Natasha said.
"They might if they could do so without violating a conservation law," Kazyn offered. "It might be no more than a sequence of quantum fluctuations in the right places, to get something started before it ought to, in which case runaway accretion will get it sufficiently large and get it to use up enough material before what would normally happens does. In principle, leaving aside the difficulty, it might be possible."
"More difficult than creating planets?" Natasha asked in surprise.
"There's a lot to this," Kazyn offered hopefully. "Come and be a part of it! Do say yes!"
"I shall give Gaius my response," Natasha remarked enigmatically.
Chapter 25
"May I enter?"
Gaius looked up. There was an obvious sign of tension as he nodded, "Please do."
Natasha slowly walked towards the sofa in this rather sparsely furnished room. As she reclined she felt pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the sofa was.
"Wine?"
"Yes, please."
"I have these goblets from my time," Gaius smiled. "I know you can be touchy about these, but if you would like to drink from them?"
"That would be very pleasant," Natasha replied. Suddenly, Natasha realized that she too was tense. This should be easy, and the fact that it was not made her realize the size of the barrier that seemed to be between them. She had to introduce something lighter. "I suppose I can survive the lead poisoning that was reputed to come from your time," she tried.
"I'll try to avoid lead poisoning," Gaius responded, as he produced the goblets. Natasha gasped. They were solid gold, with exquisite workmanship. "The Claudians were not entirely impoverished peasants," Gaius remarked, noting her expression.
"I can see that," Natasha said, recovering her breath a little, and taking a sip. "Good wine, too."
"That's very old wine," Gaius shrugged. "About thirty years. I'm afraid I've been a bit naughty, and I raided the Munro cellar."
"I'm sure he'll be really upset," Natasha laughed. "Gaius, the others have asked me to go with you to Epsilon Eridani."
"And you're coming."
"You're so sure?"
"I've seen a lot of people come to tell me they have to decline something," Gaius shrugged. "After a while, you know the message before it's said."
"I see," Natasha said enigmatically.
"I'm afraid I see too," Gaius responded flatly.
"What do you mean?"
"Natasha," Gaius said with a wounded look, "I promise you I will not let my emotions get in the way of the job. You need have no fears that I shall –"
"That's not the problem."
"Then what is?"
"I feel hurt," Natasha responded simply.
"Hurt?"
"I've been outmanoeuvred. I can accept that this is the best strategy, but I don't like the way it's been done, and it doesn't mean you can go on treating me like a puppet. I know there's certain things I have to accept, merely by going, but there's –"
"I don't understand," Gaius interrupted. "What do you mean, puppet?"
"Someone who moves when the strings are pulled," Natasha shrugged. "I can see there's a net benefit for Earth through my being dead. I don't like it, but I guess I have to accept it, because after what you've all done, I can't return. Everyone would think I'd pulled a cheap sympathy trick, and you lot would just stand back –"
"Not true! Natasha, I believe that Earth will be far better off if you come with us, but if you don't want to, then I shall do the best I can without you, and before I go, I shall ensure you have the best shot at what you want here."
"I accept the dead Natasha argument," she said. "It's true. It's most likely I can get more things accomplished by saying them from the grave, and you should trust me when I say I never wanted the pomp. But recognizing that it's the right thing to do doesn't make me any the less angry."
"Yes, I can see you might be angry," Gaius said quietly.
"You're not even apologizing," Natasha almost spat.
"What for?" Gaius protested. "I'm afraid I don't feel the slightest bit guilty of anything."
"Don't tell me you didn't organize this whole situation?"
"I did not!" Gaius protested emphatically. "Surely you don't think I got Munro to give you that bomb?"
"No," Natasha replied tersely, "but the artificial body turned up pretty quickly. If you didn't do that, who did?"
"Katya," Gaius replied simply. "As an aside, only Katya had access to your genetic code, and only Katya could make a body so convincing."
"Katya!" Natasha looked completely dumbfounded.
"Yes, Katya. She took one look at what you left there, and decided that wouldn't fool anybody for any length of time."
"But she's not supposed to plot, to –"
"Self preservation," Gaius smiled.
"What?"
"Katya felt she had to look after you, and hopefully entice you back to the Livia," Gaius smiled, "because as soon as you died, or would clearly not return to the Livia, Katya would cease to exist, and her personality would be destroyed. She decided she didn't want to die just yet."
"But I thought . . ." Natasha said, then stopped. The anger was being replaced by uncertainty.
"Yes?"
"How can she die? She's part of the ship!"
"Yes, and no," Gaius shrugged. "She is part of the Livia, but she also has an independent consciousness. And don't get too angry with Katya. She was trying to save your life, and she had no idea where this would end up. And neither did anyone else."
"So how did it end up like this?"
"Simple opportunity. After all, we had to do something. If we abandoned the option of eliminating Harry and Marisa, and that's just about the only option I absolutely refused to have any part of, we had to do something to modify Terran development."
"And you don't think I can do that," Natasha said bitterly.
"Frankly, no," Gaius shrugged. "You've got the right ideas, but you don't have the support. Name any potential leader who'll back you, or anyone you can count on when you're back's turned?"
"But there's a limit to what they can get away with. People want to see progress, not –"
"You can't count on the people," Gaius countered. "What they want is certainly not the military leader. Look in your history. See how the British turned on Churchill. No, what they want are leaders who are more available. Natasha, your very strengths have isolated you. On the other hand, those other leaders haven't a clue what to do. You, dead, can leave a script they'll all have to follow, because you, dead, are no threat to anyone, and the ideas will be almost scripture. It's by far the best outcome, but I promise we didn't plan it like this, and if you really want to try the alternative, you won't be stopped. I said I'd help, and I mean it, but I'll be honest, I haven't much confidence that –"
"You don't think I could do it?" Natasha interrupted with a challenge.
"I don't think you've got what it takes to last," Gaius shrugged.
"And what's that?"
"The sheer desire for power."
"And what makes you so sure I haven't got that?" The question was quizzical, rather than contradictory.
"When you captured the Munro's, you elected to stay back and help me."
"Well, thank you! That's all the thanks I get for thinking you might need help."
"Of course I thank you." Gaius, for the first time, laughed. "You miss the point. If you really want to rule, your opportunity wa
s to tell me to sort things out somehow while you went with the Munros. Had you reappeared from the dead, dragging them through the streets, you'd be unbeatable."
"Not very nice," Natasha mumbled.
"The sort of person needed for the sort of job we're trying to talk you out of is not nice. To succeed, you must be perpetually scheming, manipulating everybody, even your own family. You missed that opportunity because it wasn't you. The difficulty is that same ruthless desire for power will be needed time and again, and it still won't be you. But if you want to, you can still try."
"I've already accepted the position," Natasha nodded. "I also accept that you should be commander during the visit to Epsilon Eridani. You've more experience. All I ask is that I am not merely paraded around as some sort of doll who –"
"I don't know what you've been told," Gaius interrupted gravely, "but if you're not prepared to be the chief negotiator, there's really very little point in your coming."
"You mean, you want me to –"
"Why else do you think I want you to come?" asked an exasperated Gaius.
"I thought maybe personal reasons."
"Well, yes and no," Gaius almost blushed. "Honestly, if we're going to have these sort of problems, I'd rather you'd stay at home."
"Then why do you want me?"
"Because you're the best person for the job," Gaius replied simply. "In fact, you're the only person for the job. You do know why?"
"I'm afraid I don't see that I'm all that special, apart from being the only pilot for the third ship, but . . ."
"You obviously weren't told of a certain sociodynamic study?"
"Gelempt did mention that he bungled one."
"Bungled!" Gaius almost shook himself with laughter. "I suppose that's one way of putting it."
"And I don't suppose you're going to tell me –"
"Of course I am. Remember when you were told you had to give up the Livia?"
"Yes," Natasha murmured. "Now I remember Gelempt said something about that being political."
"A little group of them had done one of their studies on you," Gaius said scathingly.
"I see," Natasha said slowly. "I'm sorry, but I find that appalling that they think people can be treated like chess pieces."
