Serpent's Gift

by A. C. Crispin

  After a short walk through the station, Morrow waved the younger man through the open door into a small Mexican restaurant. As soon as they had ordered--fajitas and tequila for Serge, chicken enchiladas and a beer for Jeff--Morrow sat back, stretching, then folded his arms on the table and regarded Serge] expectantly. "What can I do for you?"

  "I'm concerned about the star-shrine at the dig," Serge said. "I promised Professor Greyshine that I'd keep it safe for him, but Ms. Lynch told me I wouldn't be permitted on the worksite| because of insurance regulations."

  "She's right about that," Morrow said. "Our carrier would drop] us if we allowed non-H.U. personnel onto a contaminated site."

  "How much longer will Cavern Two be contaminated?" Serge 159

  asked. "I know from Janet Rodriguez that your crew is removing the radonium-2 very quickly."

  "They are," Jeff said. "But I'd say it will be at least another week--maybe two."

  "What if I signed a waiver for your insurance company?"

  The older man shook his head. "If you signed over your firstborn child, they wouldn't agree to anyone but one of our employees coming onsite."

  Drinks arrived at that moment, and Serge stalled, thinking fast, while he busied himself with the lime, salt, and tequila. The liquor burned his throat and a warm glow spread through him. With it came an idea.

  "Your insurance company will not permit anyone except a Horizons Unlimited employee access to a contaminated site, correct?" he asked.

  Eyeing him curiously, Morrow nodded as he sipped his beer.

  "Then hire me," Serge said. "As a temporary--I don't know-- consultant on the archaeology site. I could come and go for as long as necessary to permit me to set up the neutralizer, then remove the shrine and place it in a stasis container." He took a deep breath, his eyes holding the engineer's. "Hire me, issue me a check if you need to, to make it official. It will become lost off my credit balance, I assure you. I shall never touch it, I swear. If we did it that way, your insurance carrier would be satisfied, and the star-shrine would be safe."

  Morrow smiled slowly as he took a bite of his enchiladas. "That's quick thinking, Serge," he said. "And it might work. But tell me, what makes you think the star-shrine isn't safe right where it is? Contamination by radonium-2

  may make it radioactive, but it won't harm the appearance or the structure of the object. And the radonium-2 can be neutralized, you already know that."

  Careful now, Serge cautioned himself, spearing a piece of pepper. Rob told you that Morrow considers Lynch one of his most trusted employees . .. "The radonium-2 contamination could conceivably alter some of our instrument readings," he began, choosing his words as though he were treading on glass shards. Morrow was watching him intently, and he knew the man must be perceptive. So he didn't lie ... quite. "Which could make it even more difficult to determine the origin of the star-shrine. The longer the shrine rests in a contaminated area, the worse the potential for that damage becomes."

  "I see," Jeff said. "And I appreciate your diplomacy in not pointing out that the star-shrine is covered with semiprecious

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  gems and potentially extremely valuable--that is, it's eminently worth stealing!" He smiled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Trust a StarBridge graduate to exercise the greatest of tact."

  "I'm not a StarBridge graduate," Serge said, staring fixedly at his food as he pushed it around his plate. Any appetite he'd developed from relief at Morrow's quick understanding was quenched in a rush of shame at having to admit his failure. Morrow had been honest with him--he owed honesty in return.

  "I studied to be an interrelator, but I never graduated," Serge said stiffly. "Rob Gable and the others let me stay on because I was useful--a good

  Orientation Guide, and I teach Intro to Archaeology, but. . ." He took a deep breath. "Please don't confuse me with someone who has--what is the English expression?--made the grade at the Academy."

  Jeff was staring at him, and Serge saw him swallow. "I never graduated either," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't even learn Mizari."

  Serge was surprised, then touched, by the older man's admission. Morrow's words forged a bond between them. "Yes, but weren't you nearly my age when you came to the Academy?" he asked.

  "Depends," Jeff said with a rueful smile. "How old are you?" He glanced at the empty glass of tequila. "Or do I want to know? Corrupting minors isn't my usual custom."

  The archaeologist grinned. "I am twenty-two," he said. "And any corruption took place long ago. But, Jeff"--Serge leaned forward earnestly--"do not reproach yourself for not being able to master an alien tongue, having started so late. It is a well-known fact that languages are best learned by the young, and the older one grows, the less chance that a language will become, as it must be for diplomatic work, second nature."

  Morrow nodded. "I know that," he said. "Rob warned me before he ever let me come here that I was, in all likelihood, too old to succeed. But I had to try," he finished, his voice roughening. Quickly he polished off the last of his beer.

  "I have a feeling you and I have a great deal in common, Serge," he said, flashing the younger man a lopsided grin. "How about another round?"

  "Okay," the archaeologist said, "but before we do--what about my proposition? Will you hire me so I can retrieve the star-shrine and keep my promise to Greyshine?"

  Jeff thought for a moment, then said, "How about if we do it this way: let me finish the radonium survey of the Academy's

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  asteroid. That'll require my full attention, believe me. By the time that's completed, the radonium-2 level in Cavern Two ought to be negligible anyway. Then I'll put you on the payroll and you can get the star-shrine. But while you're waiting for it to be neutralized, you can help out my crew and earn that paycheck. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

  Serge still chafed at the delay, but he recognized that Morrow was bending over backward to accommodate him. What could he say? "Thank you, Jeff,"

  he said, putting out his hand. "We have a deal."

  "Good!" the engineer said, and beckoned to the hovering waiter. "Another round, please!"

  "Your call is going through now, Esteemed One," Ssoriszs' Chhhh-kk-tu assistant's voice came over the intercom. Alone in his quarters, the old Mizari quickly straightened himself to his full height. Hundreds of years of experience had taught him that the ability to project a positive attitude and complete self- confidence were among the most formidable weapons in a diplomat's arsenal.

  Expressing his thoughts through the use of such a warlike metaphor brought him up short. Ssoriszs' appendages twitched in the Mizari equivalent of a shudder. I am beginning to sound like the humans, he thought. It comes from spending so much time with them, speaking their language, I suppose.

  Even as he strove for inner serenity, the air before him shimmered, then seemingly solidified, presenting him with a three- dimensional view of the CLS Council chamber, an enormous, domed expanse that would have

  dwarfed StarBridge's Observatory. Stars spattered the view through the vast dome, for the CLS Council was quartered on a space station orbiting Ssoriszs' homeworld, Shassiszss.

  Seeing and recognizing him, the current Secretary-General, a Heeyoon named Moondancer, bowed deeply. "Esteemed Liaison, we are honored with your presence today. Please, may we know the reason for your request to address the Councillors?"

  Speaking briefly but eloquently, Ssoriszs summarized the current situation at StarBridge, ending with a plea for emergency funding to cover the costs of Horizons Unlimited's services, plus the promise of additional funding should an evacuation and temporary relocation prove necessary.

  Despite the confident air he'd summoned, Ssoriszs knew that his request could hardly have come at a worse time. The Vardi

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  and the Apisians were having economic problems, and two Simiu clans were feuding. The Rigellians had gone on record last year with their disappointment that the Academy hadn't made eno
ugh environmental

  adaptations quickly enough to host a fair proportion of students from their world.

  Worst of all, the Heeyoons were experiencing terrible economic difficulties, the worst in their history since joining the CLS hundreds of years ago. Their first colony world had just experienced a truly devastating winter, the worst in their recorded history. Thousands of colonists had perished, while many others had to be evacuated or relocated. The cost to the mother world was staggering. The Heeyoons had already requested this year to be relieved of their CLS dues until they could stabilize their own economy in the wake of such disaster.

  And the Heeyoons were among the Academy's staunchest supporters.

  Having stated his case, Ssoriszs took a moment to scan those present. The Arena's tiers were filled with every type of seating arrangement imaginable--

  couches, slings, perches, chairs, compartments ... and more. A number of cubicles were surrounded by the glowing protective fields, where extreme environmental needs could be met for people such as the Rigellians.

  Many of the tiers were dark, however. Ssoriszs felt disappointment rise in his throat like venom as he realized that almost half of the various seats and cubicles were empty today. There were only a few Apis and Heeyoon Councillors visible.

  Glancing at the section reserved for the Simiu contingent, he was even more disturbed to see that Duquukk', the new member he had mentioned to Rob, was sitting next to the First Councillor.

  If she gains Ankk'aarrr's ear, the Academy will be in terrible trouble, he thought bleakly. Not only will we be refused emergency funding, but we are likely to find our present budget in shreds!

  The Secretary-General raised a paw. "Discussion from the floor?"

  Moondancer asked.

  One of the Mizari, Zarshezz, signaled that he wished to speak. Ssoriszs braced himself; Zarshezz was his only surviving grandchild, but they had been estranged for years. The Liaison knew that his grandson would have little good to say about where the Academy was located and how it was administered. Zarshezz believed that the school should be brought into the mainstream of the CLS's sphere of influence, and from the beginning he'd 163

  argued that the school should be located near Shassiszss, instead of in space, close to no world.

  "Most Esteemed Secretary-General and Councillors," the Mizari began, "I feel it is my duty to point out that the Academy at StarBridge is now more than six years old. It is true that the school has produced a number of impressive students, but if we honestly weigh its successes in comparison to its many failures-- I speak of the high dropout rate, of course--one begins to wonder whether this school is worth its tremendous cost. And now we are told that there will be even greater costs--and that our gift, the asteroid itself, has been contaminated!"

  Ssoriszs had meant to keep silent, but Zarshezz's words made his temper flare. "Six years is but a fleeting breath in the winds of Time!" he retorted.

  "And the contamination was not--" he broke off, then subsided, seeing Moondancer's warning glance.

  "Perhaps now is the time for the CLS and the Council to take a more active role in overseeing the day-to-day administration of the Academy," Zarshezz said. "To do that would require the school to be relocated, but that seems to be the next step, given the current situation." Ssoriszs' grandson gracefully dipped his head to indicate that he was finished, then sank back down.

  Moondancer glanced at her podium to see which Council or should be recognized next. She signaled to the Simiu contingent.

  "I share the fears of my associates here." Duquukk's crest rose slightly as she stood. "I feel we have been pouring funds into a dream that has little reality now, and will have none if it must be relocated. They say this move will be temporary. How do we know this? What assurance do we have?"

  Ssoriszs signaled that he wished to respond. "Dr. Mikhail Andreiovitch is on his way to StarBridge to evaluate the situation," he countered. "He will surely be able to render a definitive opinion."

  "Andreiovitch is a human!" the Simiu said scornfully. "And the humans are the ones who have tried to take over the Academy for their own glory!"

  The senior Councillor for the Drnians signaled to be allowed to speak. "I believe the Academy merits every support we can give it. One of the first graduates of the Academy has just been appointed our new Ambassador to Shassiszss. Although still quite young, he has remarkable maturity and insight into other cultures. StarBridge also gave him an impressive skill in languages. We are convinced he is but the first of many outstanding young people who will come from the Academy at StarBridge, to make all of 164

  our cultures richer through increased understanding."

  The Mizari First Councillor was next. "Let us set aside the issue of the value of the Academy for the moment," Most Esteemed Rezantz began. His scales gleamed reddish-orange and silver-white beneath the starlight. "I do not believe that the Academy's worth is in serious question here today. Most worlds agree that the Academy is important. However, should the

  Academy's asteroid become poisoned or destroyed by this radonium-2

  contamination, my people could never afford to sacrifice another of our radoniumrich asteroids."

  A Heeyoon delegate was next. "My people have a moon that would be suitable," he said. "There is a large university facility there, plus an observatory. We would be honored to have the Academy in orbit around Arrooouhl."

  Now it was Duquukk's turn again for a biting retort: "And honored, no doubt, to have undue influence over the way the school is run, in addition to those much-needed CLS funds pouring into your economy!"

  As the two delegates glared at each other, Ambassador Susan Shepherd was recognized. "Why not move it nearer to Earth?" she asked, her shoulder-length white hair sparkling in the light. "Terra is such a new member of the CLS ... we only achieved our full membership last year. We are too new to have much influence on issues. We are also among the Academy's most ardent supporters, and we could--"

  Duquukk' bolted to her feet, heedless of being recognized. "For 'new members,' you humans run too many things already!" Her muzzle curled, showing a hint of her strong white teeth. "You have already swayed otherwise clear-thinking people to give your species full membership. And it was you, if I recall correctly, who argued that students must be allowed to graduate from the Academy at their own rate, and not be limited in the time they can spend there."

  "Individuals progress at their own rates," Shepherd countered. "Demanding that all students complete their program within four years is just not realistic!"

  Moondancer hastily broke in to tell Duquukk' that she was out of order, and warned her not to speak without recognition again. "Other delegates are still to be heard from," she said. "No further outbursts will be permitted."

  Zarshezz was recognized next. Ssoriszs knew before he opened his mouth what his grandson would say. "Perhaps the Academy should be located here, at Shassiszss. After all, this station has

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  been the heart of the CLS for centuries."

  Ssoriszs quickly signaled and was recognized to speak.

  "I thoroughly disagree," he said, unable to keep his anger from showing.

  "The station here is officially neutral, yes. But in reality, the Mizari have too much influence because of their close proximity as hosts to the CLS Council.

  That influence must not extend to the Academy, which is why we chose its current location. Moving the school to Shassiszss would be contrary to the highest goals of the Academy. No one species must dominate, or StarBridge may become a political pawn!"

  "Keeping the Academy so far away from the hub of interstellar and CLS

  commerce makes it much more expensive than originally planned for,"

  Duquukk' said, having been officially recognized this time. "Not to mention the special purchase we authorized last year--"

  "We needed a new shuttle," Ssoriszs broke in, and knew that Moondancer would warn him next. "We only had one, and it was too small for our needs.<
br />
  Our costs have been .. ."

  The debate continued, growing ever more emotional and volatile. Finally a breath of reason, in the person of the Vardi First Councillor, moved that the Academy's request be separated into two parts, to be voted on separately.

  Part One would provide funding for Horizons Unlimited to keep working on the radonium-2 threat, provided Dr. Andreiovitch agreed with their assessment and methodology. Part Two would provide emergency funding for moving the Academy to temporary quarters on Shassiszss, should that prove necessary.

  After the Vardi had finished, Moondancer signaled for quiet one final time.

  "Esteemed and honored colleagues, this debate has gone on, and I believe all views have been heard at least once. Discussion is becoming redundant.

  Our time today grows short. We must either table this discussion to continue tomorrow, or call for a vote. What do you wish to do?"

  Quickly members flashed their decision to vote onto her console. "Very well," Moondancer said. "Please cast your votes at this time. Remember to vote on both Part One and Part Two of this question."

  Ssoriszs held his breath as the votes were cast and compiled. Finally, Moondancer raised her head, obviously not pleased, but bound by the will of the majority. "Esteemed Liaison," she said, "the Councillors have decided.

  Funding is approved to allow Horizons Unlimited to continue with its work for the moment, until Dr. Andreiovitch can give a second opinion on the feasibility

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  of their planned course of action. As for relocation, temporary or otherwise, the vote is no."

  Ssoriszs bowed one final time, then terminated the connection. I have lived too long, he thought, feeling his strength drain away until he could scarcely summon the energy to coil himself in his sleeping compartment. He knew he should call Rob and Kkintha, but he was too heartsick. News as bad as this could wait until he felt stronger.

  He stared at his meditation disk, and wondered if there was anything he could have done to have changed the Council's decision. Perhaps a younger person could have been more vital, more convincing, he thought dully. The memory of Zarshezz's words stabbed him, until he writhed in the solitude of his quarters.