Hogan, James - Giant Series 04 - Entoverse (v1.1)

by Entoverse [lit]

  “Really?” Danchekker said, sipping his fruit juice.

  “Yes, truly. But imagine what it would do if they can figure out

  how to get the bugs out of it.” — -~ Al took up the theme, looking at Nixie. They were all wearing

  Thunen translator disks, so VISAR was able to translate for her. “Suppose you could live in a world where anything’s possible, just by wanting it to be. You can make magic things happen. How would that be for a vacation? I mean, we’re not talking about something that you look at on a screen, or that’s being faked somehow. This is real.”

  Nixie made a play of looking befuddled. “I think I’d have a hard time imagining anything like that,” she replied. “I guess I’d have to think about it.” She glanced at Murray. He shrugged and nodded in a way that said it was as good an answer as any.

  “How about you? What are you going to Earth for?” Keith asked her. He waved a hand to indicate Hunt, Danchekker, and Gina, whom he knew from their talk on the trip out to have been engaged on a scientific mission. “You’re working with them now, right?”

  “That’s right,” Nixie said. “I’m going back to help the Thuriens with some of their research.”

  Al looked impressed. “Say, that’s interesting. What did you do back on Jevlen, exactly?”

  Nixie looked at Murray perplexedly.

  “Er, free enterprise in a small—business environment,” Murray said. “We both did. The Thuriens are interested in ways of encouraging Jevlenese private initiative.”

  “Oh, you’re economists,” Al said.

  “Yeah . . . right,” Murray agreed.

  Nick appeared with a tray from the bar and began setting down drinks and collecting empties.

  “So, how did the look at Ganymean science work out, Professor?” Bob asked Danchekker. “Did it turn up anything interesting?”

  “Yes, I think you could say that,” Danchekker replied.

  “I remember on the way out, you said something about a crazy kind of Jevlenese animal, something like a bat, except it can pass on what it learns. What was it, an ‘ag,’ ‘ank’ . . . something?”

  “Anquiloc,” Gina supplied.

  “That’s right. Did you come across anything more like that?”

  “Ah, yes, well, we already knew that it exemplified a whole class of creatures that possess an ability to encode acquired knowledge

  genetically.”

  “Right,” Bob said, sipping his drink and nodding for Danchekker to continue.

  That was all the encouragement that Danchekker needed. He shifted to take in Al and Keith, who were also listening, and settled himself more comfortably. “What’s remarkable is the genetic mecha­nism—no more. I’ve always maintained that the popularized dictum of the noninheritability of acquired characteristics is unfortunate, because it tends to close people’s minds to considering how we really function. Of course the information that we accumulate over genera­tions is passed on to our offspring. But Nature accomplishes it in two ways: through genetic encoding, and through externally coded learn­ing. The only difference as we progress up the evolutionary tree is in the relative ratio between the two. This -brings up an interesting question concerning the inorganic, computer-derived inteffigences, such as . . .

  To one side, Hunt moved his chair back surreptitiously and gave Gina a resigned look. She smiled and moved closer so that they could talk more between themselves. “He’s enjoying himself,” she mur­mured. “And they’re interested. He’s earned it. Besides, I’ve got a feeling we’ll be hearing it all again.”

  “But I already have,” Hunt replied in a strained whisper.

  “Well, think about your own plans,” she said. “What’s next when you get back? Any idea yet?”

  “Oh, I’m sure it won’t take Gregg very long to come up with something.” He looked at her and rested his elbow on the backrest of her chair. “How about you? Back to Seattle?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ve got plenty enough to do, that’s for sure.”

  “You never got very far on the book you were talking about,” Hunt remarked. “Remember, you were going to find out who were

  really the Jevlenese agents, and get the story straight for once.”

  “That seems tame now. As we said, everyone’s doing it. And look at all those other things that I put a lot of effort into. Do people really care what the true story is?” She sipped her drink and thought for a moment. “Anyhow, I’ve got a much more interesting story now, that nobody else is doing: where the world of Earth’s mythology came from, and where it’s actually still real, right now, today. So maybe I’ll be spending a lot more time in Washington. After all, that’s where all my sources will be. How do you reckon Gregg would feel about letting me have some UNSA help on that?” She eyed him coquet­tishly, conveying that her real question had more to do with how he felt about it.

  Hunt sat back and regarded the enticing lines of her face and her sweep of raven hair contemplatively. The familiarity of the company and the surroundings from what seemed a long time ago evoked recollections; a reawakening of feelings which the pressure of events had forced into the background ever since they arrived on Jevlen. Now that they had left it, the influence that the planet and its circumstances had been exerting upon all of them unconsciously was gone also. He felt relaxed for the first time in weeks, and with nothing calling for immediate attention or pressing upon his mind for once, the memories of easier times and the associations that came with them flowed back like a mellow glow. The impish look on Gina’s face was the same as he had seen that night when they’d had dinner in Washington. He got the feeling, suddenly, that she had recognized the same thing awhile back and had been waiting for him to catch up.

  He raised his glass, caught her eye over the top of it, and grinned. She smiled back enigmatically.

  “Have you got used to it yet?” he asked. “The feeling of having

  two independent sets of memories, but knowing that they were both - -happening at the same time?”

  “There’s been a lot of new things to have to get used to,” she said distantly. “All kinds of things coming hack that I seem to remem­ber. . .“

  “Funny, isn’t it?”

  “How life sometimes gets swamped by other events?”

  “All those things that should have happened but somehow never did.” Hunt glanced back at the others for a second, wondering what the best way would be of extricating themselves without being too

  obvious. As he looked back and was about to say something more, Gina sipped her drink and pulled a face suddenly. “Oh, I wanted vodka and lime. This is gin. I wonder if I can get him to change it.”

  “Here, let me. I—” But before Hunt could do anything, she stood up and disappeared back toward the bar with her glass. Hunt watched as she threaded between the late-nighters, thinking it odd because he remembered her tasting it earlier. His puzzlement grew when she slipped onto an empty stool, and he saw Nick gesture down at her drink and ask her something; she nodded to indicate that everything was fine. Then she raised the glass and took a sip from it. Then, after a few seconds, her eyes wandered across to look back at Hunt.

  Slow, slow, slow, he told himself, and looked at the rest of the group again. Danchekker was expostulating on inheritance mech­anisms, and all of the others were engrossed except Nixie, who was looking at Hunt in a knowing kind of way with a smile on her lips. She winked at him and nodded, indicating the others with a toss of her head in a way that said she would take care of it. Hunt rose and sauntered over to join Gina at the bar.

  She waited, looking at him curiously. There wasn’t much need for spelling things out.

  “I’d hate to tear you away from VISAR . . . I mean, seeing as you had such an interesting time on the way out,” he said, looking at his drink and swirling it around in the glass.

  “Oh, that was just a Disney World attraction,” she said. “I think I’ve had about enough of that for a long time.”

  Hunt lifted the glas
s and emptied it. “Was I really in that fantasy you mentioned once?” he asked.

  “I told you, you’d have to tell me yours for me to tell you mine,” she answered.

  They looked at each other questioningly. Her eyes were laughing. He set down the glass and took hers from her fingers. She stood up, and they began walking toward the door.

  “You know, it’s a pity Sandy isn’t on board,” Hunt said lightly. “Then we could really have found out, couldn’t we?”

  Gina slapped him playfully on the arm. “Are all the English that romantic?”

  “Oh no,” he assured her. “One has to work at it.”

  They laughed, entwined their fingers together, and left the lounge, heading for the corridor that led to the cabin suites.

  By that time, the Vishnu had passed beyond the orbit of Athena’s outermost planet and was approaching the i-space entry port being projected from Thurien. After transfer, it would emerge back into normal space somewhere beyond Pluto, twenty hours’ flight time from Earth.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JAMES P. HOGAN was born in London in 1941 and educated at the Cardinal Vaughan Grammar School, Kensington. He studied general engineer­ing at the Royal Aircraft Establishment, Earn-borough, subsequently specializing in electronics and digital systems. In mid-1977, he moved from England to the United States to become a Senior Sales Training Consultant, concentrating on the applications of minicomputers in science and re­search for DEC. At the end of 1979, Hogan opted to write full time, and he now lives in Ireland.