“Not all the options, obviously,” he grumbled.
“The realistic options, then,” she countered. “You said it yourself: given time, you’d attack. You couldn’t do it at the moment, and you can’t reasonably expect the Yuhl to do your dirty work, either. So let’s just try to find a way to make time shall we? Whether it’s about the Species Dream or something else we haven’t thought of, we should be talking, not arguing. Okay?”
“You’ve changed your tune,” he said.
“That’s what rational creatures do when they encounter a brick wall.” Again Alander felt the sensation of skin sliding softly against skin when she talked. It wasn’t an erotic feeling, though. Hatzis’s voice was full of weary resignation, as though she was steeling herself to do something she still disagreed with. “If staying in surveyed space isn’t an option, we need to work out where to go instead. And if that means negotiating a treaty, then I’m just going to have to bite the bullet.”
“You’re suggesting we join the Yuhl?” Axford didn’t sound as happy as Alander had thought he might.
“If they’ll have us, yes,” she responded with some hesitation. “Then, one day when we’re stronger, we can return here and—”
“And what?” he snapped. “Jesus, Caryl, we didn’t come here to join them! We came to see if they would join us in a stand against the Starfish. You can’t expect us to blindly throw our fate in with this lot of skulking scavengers!”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting!”
“No? Well, it sure as hell sounds like it to me,” he said. “How do we know we’ll be safe if we do join up? Just because you’ve survived isn’t enough reassurance, I’m afraid. I want more. I’m a military man, and I’d like to know exactly what it is that I’m stepping into.”
“We take precautions depending on the environment in which we find ourselves,” said Status Quo/Mellifluous. “Each time the Ambivalence encounters a species, there is a certain pattern to its distribution. We determine that pattern and avoid it. For instance, your species favors G-type stars, so we place the bulk of the Mantissa elsewhere for the middle phase of the Ambivalence. When the trailing edge—which scours all systems—approaches, we move forward again.”
“How often do you move?” pressed Axford.
“Every four of your days,” replied Ueh.
“And how long does it take to move the Mantissa?”
“Approximately five hours.”
“That’s under normal circumstances, I assume?” said Axford. “But what if the Starfish stumble across you? How quickly can you get away?”
“This has happened on occasions in the past,” conceded Status Quo/Mellifluous. “The Mantissa is equipped for emergency dissipation. We can disengage the bulk of our hole ships in ten of your minutes. Since a large proportion of our infrastructure comprises ordinary matter and needs to be ferried through unspace, a complete evacuation can take anything up to two hours. Reassembling the Mantissa takes much longer, of course. It is not something we attempt lightly.”
“No doubt,” said Hatzis. “I can see now why you’re so nervous about kicking the anthill.”
A confused chatter peppered the dark with a variety of aromas.
“We do not understand your metaphor,” said Ueh after a moment.
“You’re careful not to upset the equilibrium,” Hatzis explained. “And why should you, when life is so comfortable for you?”
“It’s comfortable only on the surface,” said Radical/Provocative. “It hides a rot that will eventually consume us all.”
“I agree,” Axford said. “But how far would you go to prevent that rot? Would you be prepared to provoke the Starfish? I mean, the Ambivalence?”
“Such a venture would be costly and probably futile,” answered Radical/Provocative. I am for a peaceful solution. Neither immolation nor slow decay is acceptable.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Axford. There was a hint of amusement to his tone that Alander found strangely unnerving. “Because you’re not going to appreciate what I’ve done.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Hatzis.
“I’ve kicked the anthill for you,” explained the ex-general matter-of-factly.
“You’re not making any sense,” said Hatzis. “What exactly are you saying?”
“You remember that ftl transmission when we arrived here?”
“The one you said was from—” She stopped. “Oh, fuck. Tell me you’re joking, Frank.”
“I don’t know how long we’ve been sitting here talking,” said Axford calmly, “but I’m guessing that a couple of hours have passed in the real world. Without knowing exactly where the Starfish were when I called them, we can’t know just how quickly they’ll get here. It could be hours. On the other hand, they might be here right now, targeting us even as we speak.”
He paused. Nothing happened. “Well, guess I was wrong on that score,” he said with a laugh that chilled Alander. “But I still think you should get moving. I’m pulling out of here myself so I can get to higher ground, and I suggest you do the same.”
The presence of Axford disappeared from the communion of minds. In his wake, complete chaos ensued. The Fit dissolved into a violent tumble of voices, all of them shouting. Alander winced as the void fragmented into a storm of sensations, painfully overloading his senses. He wanted to cover his eyes and ears, but he had no hands in this environment with which to do this.
He could hear Hatzis calling shrilly for everyone to settle down, but it was Status Quo/Mellifluous who finally brought a semblance of order to the proceedings.
“He’s not going anywhere! The conjugators will see to that. Ueh, tell us what you think. Is he telling the truth? What is he trying to do?”
“I think it would be best, this time,” said Ueh, “for those who know him to answer.”
“How can we trust them?” shouted one of the Fit.
“One of their own has brought destruction upon us!”
“We had nothing to do with this,” protested Hatzis. “You have to believe me.”
“We should have seen it,” said Alander, mentally cursing. “We should have known how far he would go to get what he wanted.”
“Could he be bluffing?” she asked.
“It’s possible,” he said. Then, to the Fit in general: “Is there any way that you know of to trace an ftl transmission?”
“No,” a voice replied. “The space-time flexure caused by the communicator acts simultaneously on every point within its range. There are no delay times, no potential gradients.”
“So without any means of detecting its source,” said Hatzis, “we have only Axford’s word to go on.”
Hatzis sounded like she was only barely keeping calm, and Alander could empathize with her. Not only had Axford almost certainly sabotaged any hope of forming a treaty with the Yuhl, but he’d called the Starfish down on their heads, too. If they didn’t move quickly, they might not escape.
“That is sufficient,” said Status Quo/Mellifluous. “We have no choice but to call for evacuation.”
“It’s going to take time,” said Alander. “What if the Starfish come before you can get away?”
“We will worry about that if it happens.” The voice of the Yuhl conveyed taut resignation, as though its owner was steeled for a difficult and positively futile task. “We have a great deal of work to do. We must disband.”
“What about us?”
“Leave these creatures to their fates!” shouted one of the Fit.
“They deserve what’s coming to them!” called out another.
Alander felt minds falling out of the void around him.
“Wait,” he pleaded. “We can’t just leave it like this! Remember, if his intention was to wipe you out then he wouldn’t have said anything. We should try to at least work out why he has done this—what he hopes to achieve.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” said Hatzis frostily. “He wants us to fight back, of course.”
2.1.8
With a sickening sucking noise, Hatzis removed the helmet from her head and tossed it aside. She was gently but firmly eased back into her seat and a thin cloth placed into her flailing hands. She coughed violently, hacking up mouthfuls of viscous fluid. Once the fit subsided and she was able to breathe properly again, she took the cloth and wiped at her watering eyes. When she felt vaguely human, she stood up on wobbly legs and looked around her.
“Where is he?” she croaked dryly, then coughed again. “Where is that fucker?” Her blood felt as though jets of steam were bubbling through it. “I’m going to kill the bastard!”
One of the spike-studded conjugators attending Alander’s emergence from the Fit pointed to a human form lying sprawled faced down on the floor. Shrugging off her own attendants and forcing her way through a gathering knot of Yuhl, she looked down at Axford’s body. A trickle of black fluid issued from one ear; his eyes were red with blood.
“You beat me to it,” she said with disappointment. She had to force herself to resist the urge to kick the prostrate figure. Then, turning to the conjugator, she asked: “Was he trying to escape?”
A warble of Yuhl-speak issued from the alien, and Triumvirate instantly translated it via the I-suit:
“He wasn’t trying to escape/did it to himself. His body was simply removed from the ingurgitation port/matrix.”
She could have kicked herself. Of course he would commit suicide. There was no way he would allow himself to be captured and fed to the Praxis so that it could learn all of his secrets. His military training simply wouldn’t have allowed it.
“Damn it!” she cursed, starting to pace. “That son of a bitch!”
“Easy, Caryl.” Alander came up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. Ueh hovered behind him, his zebra-striped face unreadable. “Did he say anything to you about what he thinks we should do? He wouldn’t just dump us in the shit like this without believing we could fight our way out of it.”
“Wouldn’t he?” she snapped. “The man’s a fucking sociopath, Peter.”
“But he’s not stupid, Caryl. He’s right about needing the Yuhl to fight the Starfish. I don’t think he’d wipe them out in a fit of spite. You said he wanted us to fight, not die.”
She ran a hand across her face, breathing in deeply to calm herself. Why am I so upset? she wondered. Alander was the one who’d been fighting for peace; he was the one who’d had everything thrown back in his face. If anyone had a right to be angry, it was him. She had no reason to be upset at the way the Yuhl had been used.
No, she thought firmly, isolating her anger. It’s not just the Yuhl who have been used. It’s us, too.
So what was Axford up to? Alander was right. A military problem required a military solution, and Axford’s was undoubtedly a military mind. He needed the Yuhl to beat the Starfish; he wouldn’t just destroy them out of hand. There had to be a way they could get out of this, and that was the point he was trying to make.
There had been moments on the way to Beid during which she had sensed him trying to extract information from her. Perhaps, she thought, it had in fact been the other way around: he had been hinting at what was to come.
She pondered the question with all the resources of her post-Spike body. Before Alander’s flawed copy had arrived on Sothis, they had been talking about whether humanity and the Yuhl would be enough combined to take on the Starfish. She had said, I’d give up ever knowing what the Spinners and Starfish are in exchange for simply staying alive. And I don’t believe you’d willingly sacrifice yourself just to make a point, either.
He had replied, Not all of me, perhaps.
Then there was the journey to Beid, and the last private conversation she’d had with him. The Starfish aren’t stupid, he’d said. I think by now they know we have a penchant for G-type stars.
So what are you saying? That we sacrifice a colony or two to find out?
Empty ones, yes. Failed ones. You must have enough of those to spare by now.
It fell into place like an ice sheet collapsing into the sea.
“Triumvirate?” she said. “I need you to send an ftl communication. Can I do that from here?”
“Yes, Caryl.”
“Okay.” She was silently relieved that Axford hadn’t sabotaged the hole ship in any way. The fact that he hadn’t done so convinced her she must be on the right track. Ignoring Alander’s look of concern, she said, “I’m going to send you an Overseer file, and I want you to transmit that on its own.”
She prepared the message and sent it to the hole ship.
GOU MANG, THIS IS SOL. I WANT YOU TO RESPOND IMMEDIATELY. DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE STARFISH. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? SOUND THE EVACUATION ALERT AND RESPOND IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY.
She waited. There was no evidence that the message had even been sent, but presumably all the hole ships in the Mantissa and everyone with Spinner technology within 200 light-years was hearing it. The Starfish would be hearing it, too, but if Axford wasn’t bluffing, then it really didn’t matter—and she had no reason to suspect he was.
Alander edged closer to her as a sudden rush of activity swept around them. “What’s going on, Caryl?”
“I’m—” She got no further, for a large gel-covered alien had forced its way through the crowd and confronted her directly. Its wing sheaths were at full extension and vibrating agitatedly. A piercingly loud string of syllables made her wince. The translation, when it came from Triumvirate was mostly incomprehensible.
“This is one of the Fit,” said Ueh, pushing forward to translate, again speaking slowly and precisely to synchronize his two vocal streams. “She wonders if this how you intend to start your cycle of violence, with the Yuhl as bait.”
“This has nothing to do with me,” Hatzis protested.
“That is how it looks to her.” Another shrill spiel from the member of the Fit made Ueh blink rapidly. “She feels you have brought the Ambivalence down upon us.”
“Look, I’m trying to help,” she said, wondering what the hell was taking Gou Mang so long. “For God’s sake, tell her I’m not Axford, okay? He did this to us, not me.”
“She wishes that the Praxis never allowed any of you here,” Ueh stammered under the barrage of another tirade, “that the usual policy of avoiding the bodiless/prey remained in place. Many will die because of you and—”
“Wait,” said Hatzis, holding up her hand. The reply from Sothis had finally arrived.
THIS IS GOU MANG. I’VE HAD TO HACK MY WAY PAST THE SAFEGUARDS YOU INSTALLED TO STOP ANYONE USING THE COMMUNICATORS. I’M GOING TO BE IN TROUBLE FOR USING THEM, SO THIS HAD BETTER BE GOOD, SOL.
Hatzis winced. She had forgotten the safeguards.
GOU MANG, I NEED YOU TO LISTEN CAREFULLY AND DO EXACTLY AS I SAY. THERE’S NO TIME FOR EXPLANATIONS. I NEED YOU TO BROADCAST A REQUEST. I WANT ALL THE FREE HOLE SHIPS TO BROADCAST AS LOUD AND AS LONG AS POSSIBLE. I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY SAY; JUST KEEP THEM TALKING, OKAY? THE ONES THAT AREN’T FREE, I WANT THEM TO JUMP ONE REAL-TIME HOUR FROM THEIR COLONIES AND DO THE SAME FROM THERE.
“Okay, Triumvirate,” she said, “send that one, but there’s more to come.”
“Yes, Caryl.”
She took a deep breath.
GOU MANG, THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART. I WANT YOU TO PICK THE COLONIES YOU THINK CAN BE MOST EASILY EVACUATED OR HAVE THE LEAST TO LOSE. SENESCENT, EVACUATED, MOBILE —WHATEVER. IF THEY HAVE GIFTS, TELL THEM TO BROADCAST, TOO. SET A RECORDING GOING AND THEN GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE. I DON’T WANT TO SEE PEOPLE NEEDLESSLY KILLED, BUT I DO NEED THOSE TRANSMISSIONS—AND I NEED THEM FAST. USE THE CONGRESS OVERRIDES IF PEOPLE ARGUE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
She rocked back on her heels, hoping the urgency she felt would come through in her message.
“Caryl/Hatzis,” said Ueh, softly, leaning in close. He smelled like figs. “The Fit have called for an immediate cessation of diplomatic relations with humanity/riil. You will no longer be allowed to join the migration. There may be retaliatory strikes should an
yone attempt to join.”
Alander looked pale and shaken. When Hatzis met his gaze, all he could do was stare back.
“I am to be demoted,” said Ueh. “Communication has wrought dissolution. I have failed.”
“No,” she said, clutching him by the front of his coarse tunic and remembering Alander’s insight that Ueh had probably grown the parts of his brain required to be a diplomat. Demotion to the Yuhl would mean the same thing as a lobotomy. “We need you now more than ever—and you need us. Please, tell them I’m doing my best to give us all a chance. Can you do that? Will they at least listen?”
“The Praxis wants to know how, Caryl,” said Alander.
Before she could speak, Gou Mang responded:
I’M GOING TO FACE A LYNCH MOB IF I DO THAT WITHOUT A GOOD REASON, SOL.
She gently pushed Ueh away. She was having difficulty juggling so many conversations at once, when what she needed to be doing was concentrating on the problem at hand. “If I promise to tell you,” she said, “will you let me finish this conversation with one of my other selves in Sothis? Both of you should know what that means.”
Alander hesitated only a second. His face went even paler. “The Praxis says it will wait.”
Gratefully, she turned away, ignoring the shouts from the member of the Fit, as well as the growing babble from the crowd gathering around her.
OKAY, GOU MANG: LISTEN CAREFULLY. THIS IS WHAT I WANT YOU TO SAY...
* * *
Quadrille angled smoothly out of the tangle of vessels pulling away from the main body of the Yuhl fleet. Hatzis watched with barely restrained anxiety as hole ships seemed to pass within inches of her point of view, as seen through a wraparound screen that left only the floor beneath her visible. She felt as though she was rocketing through the stare surrounded by a dissipating cloud of milky droplets. And, sounding constantly around her, the incessant ringing and buzzing of the ftl communicator.
“You know that you’ve signed Sothis’s death warrant, don’t you?” said Alander from the other side of the cockpit. He was sitting on the lip of two new flight couches that the ship’s AI had installed for them.
Orphans of Earth Page 34
