The chore took a lot longer than he’d hoped, possibly because fatigue was eating at him. Driving back to the Assembly Complex in the rain was an ordeal.
A noisy welcome awaited him. Karl Imhoff’s multiracial team and Praedar’s were having an impromptu bull session cum party in the corridor and both suites. Dan wearily begged off joining the fun, and Kat and Joe helped him escape, making his excuses for him. While the friendly debates raged around him, Dan gobbled a late-evening snack, then locked himself in his sleeping roomlet and dropped into bed.
The next thing he knew Joe was shaking him and cheerfully exhorting him “Rise and shine!” Dan groaned and burrowed into the bedding. The xenobiologist nudged him again. “Come on. Roll out. We let you sleep as long as we could. Sessions are starting. Praedar wants you over in the main building, circulating and playing the name game. Up! Up!”
Dan dragged himself into a sitting position. “All right. Jus’ don’t expect me to be coherent.”
Actually, he wasn’t in that bad shape. Logging zees had helped a lot, though he hadn’t fully recouped on the sleep deficit. Half a liter of caffa, a few stims, and a med patch boost put him in fairly taut order. At least he no longer looked like a refugee from a week of battle status. He took a sonic shower, remote-checked the extra antitheft system he’d installed in the ship the previous evening, and headed for Assembly Hall.
Today promised to be a repeat of yesterday. And yesterday he’d managed to make it through numerous encounters with news hounds, scientists, and one of Praedar’s sponsors with no major glitches. With luck he—and the team—might pull this off yet. The morning program was a fascinating bag.
Dr. Azim’s expedition’s report on their dig described a hellish picture. A war, twenty thousand years before the present, had all but destroyed the planet, leaving radioactive residue and climato-logical obstacles that would defeat most researchers. Azim’s group had established their camp on the world’s moon and descended to its primary for brief excavating trips, measured in hours. Despite those restrictions—and several deaths among their crew—they had compiled a stunning record of the saurian civilization that once ruled that part of the sector.
York’s team, sponsored by the Saunders, presented a thorough update on their investigations in the Beno system. Dan attended that session with reservations, but he had to concede York knew his stuff. The exhibits and holos were breathtaking. The presentation was marred for Dan, though, by York’s frequent praise of Feo and Hope as his ‘inestimable benefactors’.
A lecture by Armilly’s fur-kinship aunt showed the other side of that coin. Tawnay of Hoyoo owed nothing to the Saunders. She had a heavy reputation in the xenoarch community, and she drew a standing-room-only crowd. The audience was willing to put up with the inconvenience of translation devices to hear her lccture. The Lannon’s topic was ‘observational luck’. Before she linished, many listeners were visibly upset. One of those was Feo Saunder. Why, Tawnay asked, did certain scientists spend decades in the field and fail to make a significant and lasting contribution? Others stepped onto a dig world and practically fell over artifacts that altered xenoarch forever. While Feo fidgeted, Tavares whispered soothingly in his ear, no doubt telling his mentor that Tawnay’s opinion counted for nothing. The audience’s reaction suggested otherwise. Finally Feo couldn’t take any more. He rose and left, creating a wave of murmuring comment in the hall. Had Armilly’s aunt hit a Saunder sore spot? Dan hoped so!
The midday break, again, wasn’t. Dan spent the recess on stage, in effect, being introduced to scientists and would-be investors in the T-W 593 project, speaking to eager young grads who were shopping for just the right expedition to join, and trying to sound like a highly educated, typical Saunder-McKelvey. ; Often Dan felt like a fool. The important thing, however, was j that these people actually seemed happy to meet him.
So far, things were going well. Either Feo wasn’t willing to j rip aside his kinsman’s disguise, or he was waiting for a more vulnerable moment in which to do so—perhaps when Dan flatly turned down that earlier offer to become part of the Saunders’ expedition.
Quas-Jin’s presentation was the highlight of afternoon ses- I sions. The lecture put Dan in an awkward comer. The Vahnaj scientist was closely connected with Varenka’s New Earth Renaissance projects. Further, Feo and Hope had virtually “adopted” Quas-Jin for the duration of the Assembly, making him their personal house guest and catering to him. Balancing that was the fact that Quas-Jin was Ruieb’s old buddy. They had studied together and belonged to the same progressive faction of the Vahnaj Alliance. Family ties and loyalty to Praedar’s team pulled Dan in opposing directions. He had to admit that Quas-Jin’s report was interesting. The Vahnaj had brought recent holo-modes of Saunderhome. Varenka had been busy since she’d recorded that appeal for funds. The changes were astonishing. Varenka, with considerable help from Terran and j alien associates, was turning the clock back to 2040. Eventually the original HQ of the Saunders would look exactly as it had more than a century ago.
In addition to the Saunderhome material, Quas-Jin ran holos of Varenka’s now-complete cloning experiment. All the details, from preparing Jael Hartman Saunder’s cryo-preserved genetic essence through high-tech gestation of the fetus to the finished product. The baby girl was visually suspended beside Quas-Jin as the Vahnaj recounted Saunder-McKelvey past glories. The in-I ant’s dark eyes reflected a promise of brilliance and keen ambition, qualities her predecessor had been famous for—some would say notorious for. Dan suppressed a shudder. He wasn’t sure, as Quas-Jin seemed to be, that this child was a magnificent gift to the human race and her stellar neighbors.
Kat was sitting beside him, and Dan murmured. “What does any of this have to do with xenoarchaeology?”
“You disappoint me,” the brunette said in the same muted voice. “To an alien, Earth’s past is xenoarchaeology. Varenka did Quas-Jin a big favor when she invited him to join her project.” “For a whopping fee in Terran-Vahnaj exchange credits, I’ll bet,” Dan growled. “Varenka and her nephew Feo are just using alien interest in the family’s affairs to puff their own reps.”
“It’s your family, too,” Kat reminded him. “And Varenka is making an invaluable contribution to history. These are genuine achievements—rebuilding Saunderhome and cloning your line’s founding mother...”
“Maybe,” Dan said, unconvinced.
His last assignment of the working day was playing co-host at the team’s exhibit. Praedar was expecting his second major sponsor, Anelen, to drop by the booth, and he wanted Dan to meet the man.
Compared to adjacent displays, T-W 593’s exhibit was spread rather thin. The Saunders’, for instance, took up an entire wall of the area. Nevertheless, Praedar’s expedition was drawing a respectable crowd. The dig’s stay-at-home members and attending representatives had put together a varied sample of their work. There were Rosie’s reconstructions of “demons,” with vivid tri-dis of the “demon-smashing” ritual, and Kat’s years’-long record of Sleeg’s tale-telling as related to N’lac village life in general. Joe’s hyperbarics data included impressive visuals of intelligence testing and med stats on Chuss and Meej. All had contributed to the exhibits on display.
Quite a few visitors to the booth wore ‘saunder spells spurious selectivity’ badges. That was encouraging!
The Saunders, accompanied by Tavares and Quas-Jin, moved through the hall, holding court. They paused at Praedar’s exhibit and gave it a cursory lookover, paying a few backhanded compliments, then started to go on.
Quas-Jin, however, wasn’t ready to leave. He zeroed in on Dan, bowing and bobbing. “Urr... Hon-orable Dan-iel McKelvey. Greetings! Fel-i-ci-tations!”
Taken aback, Dan recovered quickly. “Most esteemed Quas-Jin, all Vahnaj is in awe of your scholarship, your devotion to science.”
Bow.
Bob.
The lutrinoid was so anxious to converse that he bypassed most of the usual lengthy courtesies his species practiced. “I am ... urr... de-
lighted to ob-serve you... urr... in flesh. Your kins-woman Var-enka... urr... Saund-er-Nicho-lai-ev... much af-fection... urr... young mem-bers her fam-ily. My im-mortal an-cestor was... urr... the Ir-replaceable Quol-Bez...”
“Ah!” Dan exclaimed, brightening. “The Vahnaj Alliance’s first Ambassador to Earth! Yes! My own ancestor, Morgan McKelvey, praised Quol-Bez greatly in his memoirs. The Ambassador was a being unborn generations will revere, with much reason...”
His own volubility surprised him as he found himself pulling these fancy phrases from childhood and adolescent training, from Morgan McKelvey’s biography, which Dan had read dozens of times, and from years of living on the Saunder-McKelvey fringe, rubbing elbows with aliens, and knowing what Vahnajes loved to hear.
Bow.
Bob.
“I see... urr the great-ness of your kin in... urr...
you... as I have seen it with-in the... urr... won-der-ful re-pro-duction of Jael Hart-man Saund-er...” Quas-Jin chirped.
By reproduction he meant the clone. Again, Dan suppressed a shudder.
“We must be going, Quas-Jin,” Feo cut in rudely.
Hope fussed with Dan’s collar and put on a friendly show for the ever-present reporters’ lenses. “No wonder Quas-Jin is so taken with you, Danny. Fiona would be proud, as I know Reid is. Such strong, successful children! You, Adam, Zoe, Naomi.” She patted Dan’s arm and said, “Feo and I, we... we made the decision to devote our lives completely to our work. At times like this, seeing you, we almost wish that...” She broke off, sniffling poignantly.
Dan bit his tongue. He was tempted to reply that Hope already had a spiritual heir in Nathan Saunder, Terra’s most popular actor!
The news hounds adored the scene. Feo, though, was getting impatient. “My dear, we must go...”
With the reluctant Quas-Jin in tow, the Saunders edged away. As they did, a group of Whimeds approached T-W 593’s exhibit from the other direction. Their hawk-faced leader slammed to a stop, staring starburst daggers at Quas-Jin. Then that awful gaze darted toward Praedar in silent disapproval.
Anelen couldn’t have picked a worse time to arrive.
The team’s sponsor wheeled, his aides following him in lockstep, and disappeared into the milling crowd.
As the press parted to give them room, Dan saw Rei Ito. The Pan Terran reporter had been lurking behind the Whimeds, watching that stillborn encounter with Anelen. Like Dan, she obviously regarded Anelen’s reaction as a mockery of the Assembly’s “Amity of Science” theme. Ito smirked, then hurried in the Saunders’ wake.
“Damn,” Joe Hughes said bitterly. “The Saunders, Quas-Jin, and that media snoop, all at once.”
Praedar muttered, “Anelen has been difficult in this matter before. At each grant renewal, I must persuade him that Ruieb-An’s abilities in xenolinguistics are invaluable to the project. Some Whimeds are unable to overcome ancient enmities. My grandsire suffered greatly from the esper attacks of Vahnaj spies. Yet it did not distort his respect for sincere and peaceable lutrin-oids.” That was strong criticism. Praedar sighed and told Dan, “I wish, however, that he had not seen you speaking to Quas-Jin.” “Sorry about that...”
“It was not your fault. Do not apologize. You behaved most ethically. Anelen Usru Ialeen does not, at all times.” Praedar shook his head in weary resignation. “It is done. We proceed.” There were no more such incidents for the remainder of the afternoon sessions. Gradually meetings ended. Rooms began to empty. Servos scurried about, cleaning and preparing for the nocturnal attendees’ evening programs. Exhibit booths shut down and crowds retreated to their quarters.
Since a thunderstorm was threatening, Dan’s team crossed from the main building via the skywalk. In their suite, snug and dry, they discussed tomorrow’s agenda and compared notes on completed program items. The conversations reminded Dan of the indie haulers’ gossip and news-swapping grapevine.
Kat ticked off the upcoming schedule. “... meet the sponsors at noon and then tour the Saunders’ dig.”
“Well, at least, if it rains, we won’t get wet, not under that dome of theirs,” Joe said.
“How nice. Excavating in their own private indoor site.” Kat commented with sarcasm. “Day after tomorrow, we make our presentations in the morning, the Saunders that afternoon ...” “We are ready,” Praedar said, nodding.
Dan wished he felt as confident as the boss sounded. He had no illusions about his own shaky position at this conference. Just because nobody had yet demanded he produce proof of his nonexistent forma! education or the ship’s sale papers was no guarantee someone wouldn’t do it. He didn’t know how he’d handle the situation when it arose.
For now, he tried to relax and soak up patterns while his teammates exchanged opinions. Some of them had attended sessions that others hadn’t. They combined their experiences, assessing, trading accounts of chats with potential supporters and opponents. How much progress had been made on the expedition’s behalf? How many setbacks?
During a lull Dan remarked, “It’s the same all over, isn’t it? I used to think scientists would be special, different. No wheeling and dealing and lobbying behind the scenes. Serious, unbiased research. But now I know you have to scratch backs, too.”
“And how!” Kat agreed. “It begins when we’re students. Which faculty connection can hook us up with the digs we really want to join? What foundations do we need to butter up to get funding? Who has the power? What important figures’ pet peeves are...”
“Human or alien,” Joe put in, “the rules don’t vary much.”
“I guess it goes with being stellar cultures,” Dan said. “If we didn’t have the drive to scramble for status and reach, none of us would have lifted off our origin worlds in the first place.”
“Indeed,” Praedar said. “Status is inescapably necessary to our species. Feo Saunder responded poorly to Tawnay’s lecture because the Saunders are not noted as finders. They have never made a discovery that they can claim entirely as their own.” “They even stole the T-S 31I site from you,” Kat added. “Dif-fi-cult.” The Terrans and Praedar turned to Ruieb-An. “The... urr... mat-ter of our species... urr... mix-ing. It is .. . urr.. .prop-er en-deavor, to seek truth. De-cipher-ment of N’lac lan-guage. Op-portuni-ity to this per-son. How-ever...” “The brawl,” Joe said, helping the Vahnaj. He explained to the others, “Ruieb and I saw a near-riot at one of the morning sessions. Ugly. Imhoff’s people and York’s. No punches thrown, but damned close.” He shut his eyes, looking tired. “That’s far too typical of all us humanoids. Chauvinism within our races, until we mature sufficiently, then xenophobia until we develop further. Imhoff’s expedition, like ours, is a target because we’re both multispecies teams. One more example of—”
“Who do you think you’re kidding with that philosophical crap?”
Getz’s challenge stunned the rest. The effigy specialist paced restlessly, waving his arms. “Lies! Trying to build a sweetness-and-light image for us. Well, you don’t fool me! I know what you’re up to! I suspected it weeks ago! Months! And I came prepared. Brought all my records, my key specimens. I knew I’d have to get out when the time was right. The wonder is it took me so long to come to my senses!”
He rushed into his room and grabbed his bags, which were packed and sealed, and moved toward the suite’s outer door, plainly planning to abandon ship.
By now his teammates were on their feet, staring at him in bewilderment.
Getz ranted, “Oh, don’t think I didn’t see it coming. You’re backing Jarrett and his crew of reputation wreckers! Waiting for me to get up there and make my presentation with you. Then you’ll throw me to those wolves! Like hell you will! Damned if I’ll let you destroy my work and take me down with you when this stupid project collapses...”
“Bill! What are you raving about?’ Kat cried. “Nobody’s plotting against you. When we talked about wheeling and dealing, we didn’t mean...”
Ruieb-An had fled to a comer, dismayed by the Terrans’ wrang
ling. The Vahnaj wrung his three-fingered hands, chirring apprehensively.
Praedar’s response was quite different. His crest was prickling, his starry pupils widening. He took a predatory stance, ready to jump in any direction if Getz went berserk.
“Liars! All of you! I’m joining an honest group, the Gokhale Institute...”
Joe tried to interrupt. “Bill, you signed a contract with the expedition, as you’re so fond of reminding us when it suits you..
“Eat your damned contract! I’m not obligated to cheats and traitors like you!” Getz kicked his bags across the corridor. They bounced off the wall opposite and the door to Imhoff’s suite opened. A few of his team members poked their heads out warily, watching the spectacle.
“It is unlikely the Gokhale Institute will wish to associate itself with a researcher whose data are in question,” Praedar said icily.
“Under question!” Getz squeaked. “Only by you! I had to be out of my mind to ally myself to you. A Whimed, for God’s sake! A Whimed and his crack-brained misfits. The final blow, Juxury, was when you took in this ignorant lout who thinks he’s a self-taught genius...” Getz thrust an accusing hand at Dan.
“I thought I was supposed to be the Saunders’ spy.”
“Maybe you are!” Spittle flecked the older man’s lips. “You did your best to encourage luxury’s insane ideas. He already has the others believing those fairy tales those subhumanoids spout. Nonanthropomorphic invaders from the stars! Ludricrous! And then you had the nerve to tell them my effigies are some idiotic alien technology. Concocting data. Twisting selectivity to—” “Twisting selectivity?” Kat was outraged. “What gall! We all know what rotten science you’ve been conducting, pretending to catalog fluidics elements as effigies, when you must have—” “Shut up! SHUT UP!”
Praedar took a heavy step toward Getz, then regained control of his temper. He loomed over the suddenly frightened Terran and said, “I have studied and worked with your species for many years. Chen showed me the best that humans could be, as Joe, Kat, and Dan, have done. Yet I learn. You astonish me with your lack of ethics.”
Juanita Coulson - [Children of the Stars 04] Page 22
