It was an educated sort of request. Someone else might have asked for dice.
“I shall tell Uncle. Please be patient.”
“Yes,” Nomari said, and got up carefully and gave a little bow. “Thank you.”
Cajeiri sat still, thinking about the dice. And the front gate and a signal that could mean anything.
“What do you think?” Antaro asked.
“I think he is a very superior class of burglar.” He rose from the table and looked at his younger aishid, the ones who knew him. “And I think we are not going to go riding this afternoon. Or maybe for the rest of this trip. Damn.” He swore in Mosphei’, which nobody else might understand. There was going to be some kind of mess, whether it was political, and a fuss in the legislature, or something a little scarier, involving guns, and the Guild.
8
Cabinet meeting. God. Shawn’s nine advisors, that met with him regularly, and that generally had compatible opinions—but no scarcity of concerns.
There had been perhaps a few too many glasses of wine at the dinner last night. Not on Bren’s part, but on the part of several of the North Shore political elite. There had been far too many pointed questions. He had felt he was constantly parrying attacks, or fending off people trying to score points.
This meeting had the potential to go the same direction, since it included several of the Secretaries present last night. Atevi legislators were generally a little more careful with the alcohol, and atevi dinners did not allow serious discussion at table.
Not so, on the Mospheiran side of the strait. Mospheirans were a little rougher on their President. And his guests.
He straightened his cuff lace, asking himself whether the bulletproof vest—brocade as it was—was entirely the thing for a gathering of the Mospheiran cabinet, with Shawn’s own security and his in the hall outside. It did make him a little stiff and less natural. But Narani had recalled to him a certain promise, that he would wear the thing if for no other reason than because his best coats accommodated it, and Narani and Jeladi were the arbiters of wardrobe. The coat did not fit as it should without it, he needed to look his best for a meeting with Shawn’s advisors, and that was that, from the elderly gentleman who had crossed the strait to keep him in good order.
Banichi and the others were not unhappy about the decision. They had been a little uneasy with the questions last night from less than sober sources. Bren, on the other hand, had no apprehension at all that the elderly Secretary of Education was going to produce firearms. No. The man was a different kind of problem, a tenacious fellow, not from Linguistics, but a former professor of Business Administration, whose chief weapon was a slightly inflexible mind.
At least they were not stinting with the air conditioning this afternoon, which made the vest slightly less uncomfortable. Port Jackson was just a shade warmer, compared to Shejidan. It had no mountains within view, and its sea breeze could be muggy.
The door opened. One of Shawn’s aides held it open for his entry into the meeting room, Shawn and the rest had risen in courtesy, and he walked to Shawn’s side, attentive to the introductions for those who had not met him last evening. He was appointed a courtesy seat endmost, at a table that, being only for twelve people at max, didn’t use microphones. They served tea—that was welcome. Even more welcome, Shawn had promised him that he would be first on the agenda and that he wouldn’t have to stay for the discussion on the Port Jackson harbor dredging issue.
He sat through his introduction, nodded pleasantly to the cabinet officers, and thanked Shawn for the invitation.
“I’ll start with the good news. The treaty. I’m sure you’ve all read it by now, and know the gist of the agreement. Behind the agreement, there’s no denying we dodged a real danger up there. Very, very fortunately, the kyo don’t want to fight us. It’s my impression they had rather not fight anybody—which makes them good neighbors. They don’t want to trade. They don’t want to deal with us at all, at least for now. They have problems in another direction, and I gather we’re fairly well on the shelf until they can settle their other border. Will they then become aggressive toward us? I hope not, because our science is far, far short of theirs. Their speed, their weapons, all are far, far more than we can deal with. Phoenix did create a pile of data and observations from the contact, and has been working on it. They’re willing to release what they do know to scientists in various fields, atevi and human. That study is likely to bring us new discoveries in propulsion, among other things. But it doesn’t say that kyo science won’t advance, too, while we’re trying to catch up. Our best goal, in the atevi government’s official opinion, is to believe they may return, in some number of years we cannot predict, and to be prepared to deal fairly with them if they do. I’ll take questions. I’m not sure I can answer any of them.”
“They came once, unannounced. What’s to stop them from doing it again? How are we sure they’re not going to be back next year, and maybe in force?”
That was a fairly reasonable start on the unanswerable, from Commerce.
“It is a situation we can’t predict, because we don’t know everything about them. But their reason to do that, based on their statements, and based on the enormous distance, travel time, and expense, seems lacking—for any reward unique to this world. They were interested primarily, I think, to see what we were, whether the tip of a large iceberg, some massive civilization that might involve several solar systems—or just what we told them, two species sharing the same planet, who live fairly quietly. Their optics could easily see, from orbit, any group of people waiting for a bus, farming a field, boarding a train—some of which, mind, are still steam engines. The pattern we showed them can’t be faked. We’re not a vast interstellar empire, we don’t have much in the way of defenses, let alone weapons of any sort to make us a threat to them, and they’re satisfied that what we represented to them at Reunion was the truth. We’re no threat and we don’t bother them. Metals, water, rock—there are abundant sources much closer to them and foodstuffs can be produced in orbit. What we do have—is a peaceful community. They wanted to know how we manage that with two species. We explained. They saw. And they left.”
“Why wouldn’t they meet with humans?” Education asked.
“Well, despite the clothes,” he said, and generated a little laughter, but not from the questioner. “I am human. So is Captain Jason Graham. Various operations people. And a handful of Reunioners—the young aiji’s associates, and their parents—all meetings that weren’t quite planned, but that the kyo requested for their own reasons, as they asked specifically for me, for the aiji-dowager, and the young aiji, to start with. Ragi is, for one thing, the language they find easiest to speak, the language we dealt in at Reunion. That was why we began negotiations in Ragi. We were simply the contact they knew, from Reunion, and whose word on how things are here, was, if I read them correctly, their primary reason for coming. There is also another reason for them to request to speak to us first. If we three were appointed by this world to deal with their fairly dramatic arrival—they could at least have some confidence we had had some authority behind us at Reunion, and still had it in order to come up and meet with them. Your support was also there, and we felt it at every moment, in Dr. Kroger’s support and that of the ship. We were not negotiating just for the aishidi’tat. We were—at all times, here and at Reunion—negotiating for all of us.”
“I have a question.” That was Industry. “How do we have any certainty what the top of that document says?”
“Good question. I worked with a kyo counterpart to understand their alphabet. I can’t say I’m literate in that language, but I can actually make out key words that correspond to the Ragi and the Mosphei’ versions, and I’m attempting—in my spare time—to work out the grammar and vocabulary. The document is a sort of Rosetta Stone.”
“A what?” From Transportation.
“A document which can
provide keys to understanding the kyo language, by its close correspondence to the other two. I have a fairly extensive vocabulary besides that . . .”
“From the prior meeting.”
“And this one. Principally from this one.”
“Your office,” Education said, “requires you to turn over materials of this nature to the University Linguistics Department, in conjunction with the State Department. Withholding them is a violation of the terms of your appointment.”
Well, it was clear the Linguistics chairman had made a phone call and had an opinion.
And, damn it, it would be so much easier to have the University system helping ease Linguistics into the current century . . . not to mention the roadblocks it could throw down.
Funding was always a matter of taking wealth from somewhere and putting it somewhere else.
Crockett, the man’s name was. From last night’s dinner party—one of the less happy individuals last night.
“I have supplied Linguistics with materials for many years, sir, but first, materials have to be created and organized. Right now many of them are still here.” He tapped his forehead. “They will be presented, in due course, as a gesture of cooperation from the aiji in Shejidan, but—there is a great deal more to the kyo language than a vocabulary list; and as to that matter, I will get to that with Linguistics, as soon as I can. I have only just landed, and I have come here, on a priority—as a gesture of good will from the aiji in Shejidan, to present the treaty, and to raise matters of mutual concern. There will be atevi working on the kyo language; but the Department of Linguistics also has useful resources, given some adjustments in priority.”
“That is a University matter.”
“Not wholly, sir, given the global importance of the outcome. As I’m sure you know, but for a statement of the current situation, the University of Mospheira has had the sole responsibility for linguistic studies, and for the training of the paidhiin, unique on the planet. The aishidi’tat has hitherto maintained no such study, and has relied on the University of Mospheira to train its representatives. Bear with me, sir.” Crockett was looking decidedly restless and out of sorts. “And bear with me for one further point. The University Department of Linguistics itself has two divisions, Historical Human Languages, which is further subdivided into several specialties; and Ragi Studies, which is also subdivided into Historical and Current Ragi. Neither of these divisions is currently appropriate for kyo studies.”
“You are hardly charged with recommending the allocation of University resources, sir.”
“On the contrary, sir, I am uniquely qualified to recommend a new division, as you are qualified, sir, among your fellow Cabinet members, to recommend allocations of resources—for national security and for new global interests. We never foresaw that Mospheira and the aishidi’tat would have such vitally unified interests. But we live in one house, on this world, and it has been visited. The aiji is asking for a new era of cooperation, us together, the station with the world, and the ship with the station, and the Department of Linguistics can transition into an invaluable resource. It has in the past linked closely with State and with Commerce. Its stability has proven valuable—but now its flexibility can help bridge gaps even within the University tradition, so that the University can bring all its resources to bear. The kyo language has characteristics not found in the verbal aspects of human language or Ragi, questions in which the life sciences will be very helpful. In point of fact, sir—and bear with me again, I have a limited time on the island, so I beg the cabinet extend the courtesy of hearing me out on several issues.”
“Go on,” Shawn said, from the head of the table. “These are matters of national interest.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. I recommend not only that Linguistic Studies extend itself to kyo, but also to ship-speak, not as a bastard relative of Mosphei’, but as a foundation for the Reunioner dialect, which probably deserves its own distinct professorship. There is a lot of unique vocabulary and a richness of expression—one will not always understand some Reunioners—that also involves the Reunioner experience. That dialect is on its way to a separate form, which should be preserved for study, and not allowed to become extinct without record, as one language blends into another. In fact, I would make another proposal. In the same way Linguistics has had supervision from within State—” He gave a slight nod to State, Caputo, who had chaired the joint committee meeting. “—State should also develop a cadre of scholars with special interest in kyo studies and in variations of our own several dialects, for future reference. We now have three active human dialects, each with its own unique knowledge: Anthropology should be interested. History should be interested. For that matter, considering the situation, Science should be interested. Academic walls that compartmentalize these studies should be extremely permeable. We cannot know at what point in our future it will be necessary for State to call on Linguistics to interpret a kyo message, or deal with the arrival of a ship from places entirely unknown to us or even to the kyo, for that matter. Linguistics has the potential to embrace history and anthropology, and specializations in a changing world need the flexibility to cross academic divisions. There are those who will spend their whole lives puzzling out the fine details of what we’ve just met, and there are urgent studies and records that should be made soon, while living persons can be interviewed. I propose to give the University access to people with this knowledge. I am one person. I cannot both serve as I serve, and write the textbooks and teach. I say this here, because this issue must not be swallowed up in a cloistered community detached from what has just happened to us. You, ladies and gentlemen, have the power to support change, and fund it, and to move this world in a way that will make us all safer.”
“I’m sure you have your concerns, Mr. Cameron, but one issue is not grounds for restructuring the entire University.”
“Mr. Crockett, a few days ago the existence of the planet hinged on the existence of the Linguistics Department.”
“Which adequately produced you, Mr. Cameron, with no trouble at all.”
“Mr. Crockett, the program taught me the techniques, gave me vocabulary and structure, as it was before we began to speak Ragi, participate in Ragi culture, or venture into space. I took the step of verbal communication in Ragi at the specific request of the aiji, on my arrival, and I nearly lost my position because of it. But it was my experience actively speaking the language that gave me the expertise to break through the language barrier with a completely unknown people. The rules in the Department have not changed. But the world has changed. The requirements of the office have changed. What the Linguistics Department needs to do now is plan for my successors, who will have to be adept—and fluent—in Ragi, in Ship, and in kyo. And most important of all—they will have to have the ability to work with anything else that comes to us from outside.”
Crockett had an objection. He gave it no window and plowed ahead:
“We are giving off, sir, by our very existence on this planet, a remotely detectible signature of life, which guided Phoenix here in the first place—it was no accidental find—and we are now emitting a signature of space-age civilization, unmistakable to remote instruments of sufficient sophistication.”
“The kyo have such things,” Defense said in alarm.
“I am absolutely certain they do, sir, since Phoenix has such things, which is how they fell afoul of the kyo in the first place.”
There was a decided stir. Defense asked: “They were probing for civilization?”
“Phoenix was doing what it had always said it was doing—looking for the motherworld. We simply did not understand their word looking. They found a civilization that breathes the same air, circles a sun of somewhat the same sort, has a gravity a little off from what we enjoy—our brighter sun and our gravity are a little less than comfortable for them, so the kyo had absolutely no desire to land on this planet—but yes, Phoenix
visiting kyo space was precisely what brought us into contact, a decision we are fortunate enough to have survived, even more fortunate to have exited with a somewhat distant ally. Our next job is to increase our knowledge, improve our science, and try to come up to par with our visitors’ science in a non-threatening way. We can’t afford to offend the good neighbor we think we have, but we should also consider that someone who comes at us from some other direction may not be a good neighbor. Should that happen now, we would have to voyage, as the treaty provides, to Reunion, which is now in kyo hands, and ask the kyo very politely to come help us, as they have every motive to keep a buffer of well-intentioned species between themselves and any other.”
He left a silence, and let it continue, while Defense thought that over without much trouble. He had made no rash promise that they should never fear the kyo, but he had pointed out that there was a reason for Defense to exist and, that most important word in this room, to be funded.
“Phoenix possesses the technology to search for lifebearing worlds,” Defense said.
“I have a confirmation from Phoenix command that this has always been the case. They have not shared the technology with us, nor with Reunion, so far as I am aware. A captain now deceased took a chance. This decision is not well-regarded by the crew or by current command.”
“Phoenix should give us that data,” Defense said. “And we should have that technology.”
“I would agree, sir. We can ask. But I urge that we should also accept the ship’s decision, whatever it is, and work with them, and trust them. This planet, wrapped in atmosphere, cannot do as efficiently what they can do, or see as far. This generation of captains, having experienced what they have experienced, may be willing to share information and possibly the technology. I would definitely urge we ask in the most constructive way possible, and prepare ourselves to deal with what turns up. Convincing the ship to take a cautious course and keep us fully informed will be far easier if we are working together on the same projects and sharing our discoveries. We suspect the kyo ships have a range far greater than Phoenix has. Range and speed. Phoenix has observational data, and if we can bring science to bear, here on Mospheira and in the aishidi’tat, we may find clues to something useful. Likewise Reunion collected data, some of which the ship has, and some of which living Reunioners have. The plan to send them out to Maudit and lose that potential—would have lost us all they have developed. There is the potential for us to advance on multiple fronts if we handle this well. We can become more prosperous and more prepared.”
Convergence Page 20
