by Vernor Vinge
“You are both out of order!” Captain Park paused a moment, staring at the Committee. Then, “Fourth possibility: We undertake a preemptive attack against the Emergent fleet, and secure the system for ourselves.”
“Attempt to secure it,” corrected Dotran.
“I object!” Kira Pen Lisolet again. She waved to bring up consensual imagery. “A preemptive attack is the only sure course.”
Lisolet’s imagery was not a starscape or a telescopic view of the Spider world. It was not the org or timeline charts that often consumed the attention of planners. No, these were vaguely like planetary nav diagrams, showing the position and velocity vectors of the two fleets in relation to each other, the Spider’s world, and the OnOff star. Traces graphed future positions in the pertinent coordinate systems. The diamond rocks were labeled, too. There were other markers, tactical military symbols, the notation for gigatonnes and rocket bombs and electronic countermeasures.
Ezr stared at the displays and tried to remember his military-science classes. The rumors about Captain Park’s secret cargo were true. The Qeng Ho expedition had teeth—longer, sharper teeth than any normal trading fleet. And the Qeng Ho armsmen had had some time for preparation; clearly they had used it, even if the OnOff system was barren beyond belief, with no good place to hide ambushes or reserves.
The Emergents, on the other hand: The military symbols clustered around their ships were hazy assessment probabilities. The Emergents’ automation was strange, possibly superior to the Qeng Ho’s. The Emergents had brought twice the gross tonnage, and the best guesses were that they carried proportionately more weapons.
Ezr’s attention came back to the meeting table. Who besides Kira Lisolet favored a sneak attack? Ezr had spent much of his childhood studying the Strategies, but the great treacheries were things he’d always been taught were the domain of insanity and evil, not something a self-respecting Qeng Ho need ever or should ever undertake. To see a Trading Committee considering murder, that was a sight that would…stay with him awhile.
The silence grew unnaturally long. Were they waiting for him to say something? Finally Captain Park said, “You’ve probably guessed we have an impasse here, Apprentice Vinh. You have no vote, no experience, and no detailed knowledge of the situation. Without meaning to offend you, I must say that I am embarrassed to have you at this meeting at all. But you are the only crewmember owner for two of our ships. If you have any advice to give with regard to our options, we would be…happy…to hear it.”
Apprentice Ezr Vinh might be a small playing piece, but he was the center of attention just now, and what did he have to say for himself? A million questions swirled up in his mind. At school they had practiced quick decisions, but even there he had been given more backgrounding than this. Of course, these people weren’t much interested in real analysis from him. The thought nettled, almost broke him out of his frozen panic. “F-four possibilities, Fleet Captain? Are there a-any lesser ones that didn’t make it to this briefing?”
“None that had any support from myself or the Committee.”
“Um. You have spoken with the Emergents more than anyone. What do you think of their leader, this Tomas Nau?” It was just the sort of question he and Trixia had wondered about. Ezr never imagined that he would be asking the Fleet Captain himself.
Park’s lips tightened, and for an instant Ezr thought he would blow up. Then he nodded. “He’s bright. His technical background appears weak compared to a Qeng Ho Fleet Captain’s. He’s a deep student of the Strategies, though not necessarily the same ones we know… The rest is guess and intuition, though I think most Committee members agree: I would not trust Tomas Nau with any mercantile agreement. I think he would commit a great treachery if it would make him even a small profit. He is very smooth, a consummate liar who puts not the faintest value on return business.” All in all, that was about the most damning statement a Qeng Ho could make about another living being. Ezr suddenly guessed that Captain Park must be one of the supporters of sneak attack. He looked at Sum Dotran and then back to Park. The two he would trust the most were off the end of the map, in opposite directions! Lord, don’t you people know I’m just an apprentice!
Ezr stepped on the internal whine. He hesitated for seconds, truly thinking on the issue. Then, “Given your assessment, sir, I certainly oppose the first possibility, joint operations. But…I also oppose the idea of a sneak attack since—”
“Excellent decision, my boy,” interrupted Sum Dotran.
“—since that is something we Qeng Ho have little practice in, no matter how much we’ve studied it.”
That left two possibilities: cut and run—or stay, cooperate minimally with the Emergents, and tip off the Spiders at the first opportunity. Even if objectively justified, retreat would mark their expedition an abject failure. Considering their fuel state, it would also be extraordinarily slow.
Just over a million kilometers away was the greatest mystery-possible-treasure known to this part of Human Space. They had come across fifty light-years to get this tantalizingly close. Great risks, great treasure. “Sir, it would be giving up too much to leave now. But we must all be like armsmen now, until things are clearly safe.” After all, the Qeng Ho had its own warrior legends: Pham Nuwen had won his share of battles. “I-I recommend that we stay.”
Silence. Ezr thought he saw relief on most faces. Deputy Fleet Captain Lisolet just looked grim. Sum Dotran was not so reserved: “My boy, please. Reconsider. Your Family has two starships at risk here. It is no disgrace to fall back before the likely loss of all. Instead, it is wisdom. The Emergents are simply too dangerous to—”
Park drifted up from his place at the table, his beefy hand reaching out. The hand descended gently on Sum Dotran’s shoulder, and Park’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry, Sum. You did all you could. You even got us to listen to a junior owner. Now it’s time…for all of us…to agree and proceed.”
Dotran’s face contorted in a look of frustration or fear. He held it for a moment of quivering concentration, then let his breath whistle out of his mouth. He suddenly seemed very old and tired. “Quite so, Captain.”
Park slipped back to his place at the table and gave Ezr an impassive look. “Thank you for your advice, Apprentice Vinh. I expect you to honor the confidentiality of this meeting.”
“Yessir.” Ezr braced.
“Dismissed.”
The door opened behind him. Ezr pushed off the bracing pole. As he glided through the doorway, Captain Park was already talking to the Committee. “Kira, think about putting ordnance on all the pinnaces. Perhaps we can tip the Emergents that cooperating vessels will be very dangerous to hijack. I—”
The door slid shut over the rest. Ezr was overcome with relief and the shakes all at the same time. Maybe forty years ahead of his time, he had actually participated in a fleet decision. It had not been fun.
THREE
The Spider world—Arachna, some were calling it now—was twelve thousand kilometers in diameter, with 0.95-gee surface gravity. The planet had a stony, undifferentiated interior, but the surface was swaddled with enough volatiles for oceans and a friendly atmosphere. Only one thing prevented this from being an Earth-like Eden of a world: the absence of sunlight.
It was more than two hundred years since the OnOff star, this world’s sun, had entered its “Off” state. For more than two hundred years, its light upon Arachna had been scarcely brighter than that from the far stars.
Ezr’s landing craft arced down across what would be a major archipelago during warmer times. The main event was on the other side of the world, where the heavy-lifter crews were carving and raising a few million tonnes of seamount and frozen ocean. No matter; Ezr had seen large-scale engineering before. This smaller landing could be the history maker…
The consensus imagery on the passenger deck was a natural view. The lands streaming silently past below were shades of gray, patches of white sometimes faintly glistening. Maybe it was just a trick of the imagin
ation, but Ezr thought he could see faint shadows cast by OnOff. They conjured a topography of crags and mountain peaks, whiteness sliding off into dark pits. He thought he could see concentric arcs outlining some of the farther peaks: pressure ridges where the ocean froze around the rock?
“Hey, at least put an altimeter grid on it.” Benny Wen’s voice came from over his shoulder, and a faint reddish mesh overlaid the landscape. The grid pretty much matched his intuition about shadows and snow.
Ezr waved away the red tracery. “When the star is On, there’s millions of Spiders down there. You’d think there’d be some sign of civilization.”
Benny snickered. “What do you expect to see with a natural view? Most of what is sticking up is mountaintops. And farther down is covered by meters of oxy-nitrogen snow.” A full terrestrial atmosphere froze down to about ten meters of airsnow—if it was evenly distributed. Many of the most likely city sites—harbors, river joins—were under dozens of meters of the cold stuff. All their previous landings had been relatively high up, in what were probably mining towns or primitive settlements. It wasn’t until just before the Emergents arrived that their current destination had been properly understood.
The dark lands marched on below. There were even things like glacier streams. Ezr wondered how they had time to form. Maybe they were air-ice glaciers?
“Lord of All Trade, will you look at that!” Benny pointed off to the left: a reddish glow near the horizon. Benny did a zoom. The light was still small, sliding quickly out of their field of view. It really did look like a fire, though it changed shape rather slowly. Something was blocking the view now, and Ezr had the brief impression of opacity rising skyward from the light. “I’ve got a better view from high orbit,” came a voice from farther down the aisle, Crewleader Diem. He did not forward the picture. “It’s a volcano. It just lit off.”
Ezr followed the image as it fell behind their point of view. The rising darkness, that must be a geyser of lava—or perhaps just air and water—spewing into the spaces above it. “That’s a first,” said Ezr. The planet’s core was cold and dead, though there were several magma melts in what passed for a mantle. “Everyone seems so sure that the Spiders are all in corpsicle state; what if some of them are actually keeping warm near things like that?”
“Not likely. We’ve done really detailed IR surveys. We could spot any settlements around a hot spot. Besides, the Spiders just invented radio before this latest dark. They’re in no position to be crawling around out-of-doors just yet.”
This conclusion was based on a few Msecs of recon and some plausible life-chemistry assumptions. “I guess.” He watched the reddish glow until it slipped beyond the horizon. Then there were more exciting things directly below and ahead. Their landing ellipse carried them smoothly downward, still weightless. This was a full-sized world, but there would be no flying around in atmosphere. They were moving at eight thousand meters per second, just a couple of thousand meters above the ground. He had an impression of mountains climbing toward them, reaching out. Ridgeline after ridgeline whipped past, nearer and nearer. Behind him, Benny was making little uncomfortable noises, his usual chitchat temporarily interrupted. Ezr gasped as the last ridgeline flashed by them, so close he wondered it didn’t clip the lander’s dorsum. Talk about the transfer ellipse to hell.
Then the main jet flared ahead of them.
It took them almost 30Ksec to climb down from the point that Jimmy Diem had selected for the lander. The inconvenience was not frivolous. Their perch was partway up a mountainside but quite free of ice and airsnow. Their goal was at the bottom of a narrow valley. By rights, the valley floor should have been under a hundred meters of airsnow. By some unexpected fluke of topography and climate, there was less than half a meter. And almost hidden beneath the overhang of the valley walls was the largest collection of intact buildings they had found so far. Chances were good that this was an entrance to one of the Spiders’ largest hibernation caves, and perhaps a city during OnOff’s warm time. Whatever was learned here should be important. Under the joint agreement, it was all being piped back to the Emergents…
Ezr hadn’t heard anything about the outcome of the Trading Committee meeting. Diem seemed to be doing everything possible to disguise this visit from the locals, just as the Emergents should expect. Their landing point would be covered with an avalanche shortly after they departed. Even their footprints were to be carefully erased (though that should scarcely be necessary).
By coincidence OnOff was hanging near the zenith when they reached the valley floor. In the “sunny season” this would be high noon. Now, well, the OnOff star looked like some dim reddish moon, half a degree across. The surface was mottled, like oil on a drop of water. Without display amplification, OnOff’s light was just bright enough to show their surroundings.
The landing party walked down some kind of central avenue, five suited figures and one come-along walking machine. Tiny puffs of vapor sputtered around their boots when they walked through drifts of airsnow and the volatiles came in contact with the less well insulated fabric of their coveralls. When they stopped for long, it was important not to be in deep snow, else they were quickly surrounded by sublimation mist. Every ten meters, they set down a seismo sensor or a thumper. When they got the whole pattern in place, they would have a good picture of any nearby caverns. More important for this landing, they would have a good idea what lay inside these buildings. Their big goal: written materials, pictures. Finding a children’s illustrated reader would mean certain promotion for Diem.
Shades of reddish grays on black. Ezr reveled in the unenhanced imagery. It was beautiful, eerie. This was a place where the Spiders had lived. On either side of their path, the shadows climbed up the walls of Spider buildings. Most were only two or three stories, but even in the dim red light, even with their outline blurred by the snows and the darkness, they could not have been confused with something built by humans. The smallest doorways were generously wide, yet most were less than 150 centimeters high. The windows (carefully shuttered; this place had been abandoned in the methodical way of owners who intended to return) were similarly wide and low.
The windows were like hundreds of slitted eyes looking down on the party of five and their come-along walker. Vinh wondered what would happen if a light came on behind those windows, a crack of light showing between the shutters. His imagination ran with the possibility for a moment. What if their feelings of smug superiority were in error? These were aliens. It was very unlikely life could have originated on a world so bizarre as this; once upon a time they must have had interstellar flight. Qeng Ho’s trading territory was four hundred light-years across; they had maintained a continuous technological presence for thousands of years. The Qeng Ho had radio traces of nonhuman civilizations that were thousands—in most cases, millions—of light-years away, forever beyond direct contact or even conversation. The Spiders were only the third nonhuman intelligent race ever physically encountered: three in the eight thousand years of human space travel. One of those had been extinct for millions of years; the other had not achieved machine technology, much less spaceflight.
The five humans, walking between the shadowy buildings with slitted windows, were as close to making human history as Vinh could imagine. Armstrong on Luna, Pham Nuwen at Brisgo Gap—and now Vinh and Wen and Patil and Do and Diem pacing down this street of Spiders.
There was a pause in the background radio traffic, and for a moment the loudest sounds were the creak of his coveralls and his own breathing. Then the tiny voices resumed, directing them across an open space, toward the far end of the valley. Apparently, the analysts thought that narrow cleft might be the entrance to caves, where the local Spiders were presumedly holed up.
“That’s odd,” came an anonymous voice from on high. “Seismo heard something—is hearing something—from the building next on your right.”
Vinh’s head snapped up and he peered into the gloom. Maybe not a light, but a sound.
“The walker?”—Diem.
“Maybe it’s just the building settling?”—Benny.
“No, no. This was impulsive, like a click Now we’re getting a regular beat, some damping. Frequency analysis…sounds like mechanical equipment, moving parts and such… Okay, it’s mainly stopped, just some residual ringing. Crewleader Diem, we’ve got a very good position on this racket. It was on the far corner, four meters up from street level. Here’s a guide marker.”
Vinh and the others moved forward thirty meters, following the marker glyph that floated in their head-up displays. It was almost funny, the furtiveness of their movements now, even though they would be in plain sight of anyone in the building.
The marker took them around the corner.
“The building doesn’t look special,” said Diem. Like the others, this appeared to be mortarless stonework, the higher floors slightly outset from the lower. “Wait, I see where you’re pointing. There’s some kind of…a ceramic box bolted to the second overhang. Vinh, you’re closest. Climb up there and take a look.”
Ezr started toward the building, then noticed that someone had helpfully killed the marker. “Where?” All he could see were shadows and the grays of stonework.
“Vinh,” Diem’s voice carried more than its usual snap. “Wake up, huh?”
“Sorry.” Ezr felt himself blushing; he got into this sort of trouble far too often. He enabled multispec imagery, and his view burst into color, a composite of what the suit was seeing across several spectral regions. Where there had been a pit of shadow, he now saw the box Diem was talking about. It was mounted a couple of meters above his head. “Just a second; I’ll get closer.” He walked over to the wall. Like most of the buildings, this one was festooned with wide, stony slats. The analysts thought they were steps. They suited Vinh’s purpose, though he used them more like a ladder than like stairs. In a few seconds he was right next to the gadget.
