by Ben Bova
The night here on Tsing IV was very dark, and with only three members of her party using hand lamps—again, an ironclad precaution taken for the sake of secrecy when traveling at night on the surface—the going had been slower still. Adela could have waited until morning, of course; but after the many weeks of anticipation since learning of the discovery here she knew sleep would be nearly impossible. If she did grow tired, she could always nap once they arrived at their destination, as the shuttle was not scheduled to pick them up until late the next morning.
Looking up through the treetops, she could see that neither of Tsing’s two moons was in the sky at this hour, and the only natural glow as they neared the edge of the woods was the faint light of the stars overhead.
A bird called loudly from a tree somewhere up ahead of them on the trail, its night cry strikingly similar to that of an Earthly owl, and drew her attention back to the ground. There was a sudden rustling in the branches and leaves above them, followed again by the same night cry as the large bird soared gracefully overhead in search of a less-traveled perch to rule the darkness.
“Is everything all right?” Adela asked Captain Anmoore as she waited anxiously for Hannah Cee to return.
“Everything’s fine.” Anmoore smiled broadly. “The day Hannah stops fretting the little details like this is the day I start worrying.” He waved an arm in the direction of the top of the rise. “I’ve been keeping a watch of at least two people posted at the observation deck around the clock. They’re in charge of maintaining the equipment we keep here, as well as monitoring the camo-shielding that’s in place and just keeping a general eye on anything interesting that happens. They know we’re coming, of course, but Hannah always goes ahead to warn them that it’s us. She’s afraid they’ll hear us approach and alarm them unnecessarily, thinking it might be a native hunting party or something like that: It’s a courtesy, really, more than anything else; but the loneliness can get you pretty jumpy when you’re down here all night, and they appreciate it.”
“I see. But wouldn’t they think the same thing—that it’s a native, I mean—when they hear her coming up on them?”
“Hear Hannah coming?” He chuckled aloud. “You don’t know Hannah.”
Almost as if to prove his point, Hannah appeared without warning at the front of the line of hikers. Again, Adela was struck by how out of place the middle-aged woman was as part of a scientific survey team. In the pale glow of the hand lamps, the shadows that played over her deeply lined face, gray-tinged hair and quiet mannerisms made her look more like some Academy-bound philosopher than an expert xenoguide. Even the heavily threadbare brown parka she wore stood out from the others of Imperial issue, although Adela had to admit that the woman’s personal clothing allowed her to blend in to the forest much more than their own brightly colored coats would ever allow. Jogging silently back to their position in the line, Hannah smiled apologetically at Adela, her weathered face wrinkling pleasantly.
“Captain, could you please review security procedures for our guests?” she said. When Anmoore nodded, Hannah immediately returned to the front of the line, and they started trudging slowly up the rise once more.
“More security measures?” Adela asked.
Anmoore shrugged, but made no attempt to apologize. “Don’t let her abrupt nature put you off, Doctor. Believe me, the secrecy with which we move around down here can be maddening at times, but it’s all important, even the little rules.” He quickened his pace briefly and said something into the ear of the man ahead of him, who then moved past her down the line and spoke softly in turn to each of those bringing up the rear. Presumably, he was relaying the same safety precautions Captain Anmoore was about to tell her.
“You can’t see it yet because of the camo-shielding, but from that tree we’re only a hundred meters from the observation deck.” He indicated a fat tree just up ahead and to the right of the trail. “At night, no open lights are allowed past that point, and there’s to be no talking day or night from there until inside the deck. And no weapons of any kind, but that almost goes without mentioning. That’s it.” Hannah, just now passing the tree, extinguished her hand lamp. Anmoore followed suit with the light he carried immediately after, as did the last person in the line. “Watch your step now,” he added under his breath.
The footing was smooth, though steep, as they walked along in silence. Fortunately, the tree cover was thinner here and the faint glow of starshine was sufficient for them to navigate along the path.
There were ten of them all together, their number evenly divided among personnel from the Kiska and from the science station already established at South Camp in the southern hemisphere. Hannah was in the lead, followed by two station members whose names she did not recall, and Gareth Anmoore. Following immediately behind her in line were First Officer Darrly and three others from the Kiska crew—two men and a woman. Adela knew little about the three save their names, and she wished she had gotten to know them better, as one of them must certainly be one of the IPC deathguards Eric had sent along from Luna. Each of the three had a legitimate reason, according to their duty assignments, for being on this trip, and each had done or said nothing out of the ordinary, but she realized that one of them was merely acting out a role in being part of this excursion. The thought made her nervous, as did the fact that whoever it was certainly carried at least one deadly weapon at the ready.
She wondered briefly if Captain Anmoore knew, then decided he most likely had not even been informed of the IPC presence. The deception bothered her.
“Here it comes,” Anmoore whispered, drawing her attention back to the task at hand.
Adela followed his extended arm and saw Hannah Cee’s faint outline disappear into what obviously must have been a holographic projection of a line of trees and brush. The woman behind her similarly disappeared, as did they all one at a time. Once inside the projection, Adela turned back. She could see the others following her up the trail, although it was evident from the amused looks on their faces that from their vantage point still on the outside of the camo-shield it must have seemed that she had just vanished. The shield was, apparently, one-way. She also noted that she could no longer hear the shuffling of their feet in the leaves or any other night sounds familiar to the forest, and assumed the shielding was also programmed with an audio damper.
The inside of the camo-shield had been cleared of most plant growth, making the short climb up the hard-packed dirt to the top where the “observation deck” was situated a fairly easy matter. The deck itself was a prefabricated structure of plastic panels forming a long platform perched on the edge of the rise overlooking the valley. From the size of it, there should easily be enough room for the ten of them, and then some. They were only a few meters below it, but from this angle she still couldn’t see anything or anyone on it from here.
“There’s a cubicle of solid shielding that surrounds the edges and top,” Anmoore explained as they climbed the last few steps. “Any portion of it can be opaqued for privacy or when the sun comes up over the valley—I’ve been here at sunrise, and believe me, Tsing 479 can be brutally bright sometimes when it’s at the right angle. Of course, we’ve got the whole thing set for translucency for your viewing pleasure this evening.”
He smiled warmly, and it suddenly occurred to Adela why he had not minded personally escorting her down here in the middle of the night: He was as excited about the discovery here as she, and unquestionably felt a certain sense of pride to be the one to show her the town. She found herself liking this man more and more.
“Now, if you’ll just step this way.”
Hannah had already reached the crest of the hill and had entered the shielding; there was a tall rectangular outline where the opening had appeared, and Adela ascended a short set of steps leading up to the deck itself. The two men who were assigned to monitor the deck waited on either side of the “door”; one of them, the name JONATO above the breast pocket of his coveralls, extended his hand to stea
dy her as she came up. His face positively beamed as he welcomed her inside. Clearly, her arrival had been eagerly anticipated.
Once inside, she saw that one side of the platform had been walled off with solid panels, and she assumed that sleeping quarters and personal facilities for visitors, regular observers and maintenance personnel were located there. The interior of the long cubicle that constituted the observation deck glowed softly, and Adela trusted that from the outside the one-way camo-shielding prevented its detection while at the same time allowing proper visibility for anyone working here. There was a low sound she noticed upon entering—a steady, soothing hum that she couldn’t quite place until she realized it must be the power and shield generators beneath the floor. Looking around, she noted a surprisingly large amount of furniture here as well—two worktables, several chairs, a number of low cabinets placed against the panel walls. But it was the far shield wall, the one facing the valley, that captured her attention. Fully two dozen cameras, recorders, and measuring devices of all manner had been arranged there, all of them oriented on what lay below that edge of the deck.
She approached the edge slowly, the vista spread across the river valley below appearing a bit at a time. As she saw it, she caught her breath audibly.
“Jonato,” Anmoore said. “Would you please dim the lights so Dr. Montgarde can get a better look at our little town?”
The young man complied quickly, putting the room in darkness.
“My God,” Adela breathed. “It’s incredible.”
Despite the lateness of the hour—locally speaking—thousands of lights glowed in the darkened town, almost giving it the appearance of a starlit sky. Some of the lights moved slowly through the town, occasionally disappearing behind buildings in one spot and suddenly appearing in others, and were undoubtedly lanterns being carried by the natives or mounted on vehicles. Most of the lights, however, seemed fixed and must have been windows or house lights; but as she studied the entire scene she detected a pattern in the way that some of them had been laid out. “Street lights?”
“Gas,” Anmoore replied in confirmation, his voice low in the darkness. “From what we’ve been able to learn, they have a rather extensive system of underground lines down there. While we’ve found evidence of the same thing in a few other towns, it seems that only the larger communities like this one have gone to such lengths.”
A broad, dark band that would be the river wound around it all, producing a sharply defined boundary to the town itself on the side nearest them. Lifting her gaze to the far side of the town, she saw that the lights became more widely separated as the area delineated gradually from the tightly packed urban dwellings to the surrounding countryside. In all, it was magnificent. Beautiful.
“Incredible,” she said again. “What are you calling it?”
Anmoore plainly had not expected the question and he blinked in surprise, glancing around at Hannah and the others. “To be honest, we’ve not called it anything. We’d given names to a number of landmarks and features as we surveyed them when we were still in orbit—” He hooked a thumb in Jonato’s direction, then nodded at the valley below. “It was Jonato who picked the name ‘Cascade’ for that river, for example. But once we actually came down and verified the existence of the natives, we more or less dropped the practice in hopes we could learn local names. Obviously, we’ve not been able to do much of that yet.” He shrugged, a hint of embarrassment in his mannerisms. “We’ve just been calling it ‘the town.’”
“That’s a shame,” Adela said, regarding the twinkling lights once more. “It’s almost too lovely to just keep calling it that.”
“All right, then,” he replied, his friendly smile reappearing. “Pick a name for it.”
Adela turned to him. “That wouldn’t be a breach of protocol?”
“Protocol?” He laughed pleasantly, drawing the attention of the xenoguide. Hannah didn’t join in his laughter, but there was a twinkle in her eyes that was unmistakable. “We’ve never gone in much for ‘protocol’ on the Paloma Blanca. Oh, we’ve put some pretty strict rules and regs in place regarding the situation here at Tsing, and we’ve rigidly adhered to some fairly explicit guidelines from Luna, but when it comes to discovering a new, previously unknown intelligent civilization—there is no protocol.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I’d better speak to Brendan—to Academician Wood first. The Emperor has given him complete authority in matters regarding the natives.”
He came over to stand next to her. “Listen, Doctor,” he said frankly, all traces of humor gone from his voice. “We wouldn’t even be here if it were not for you. Without your efforts, without the Sun project back on Earth, the technology of wormhole travel would most likely not even exist. If anyone deserves the right to name the first town discovered here, it’s you. Besides,” he continued, his smile and easy manner returning, “I’ve spoken to Academician Wood since his arrival and have gotten a fairly good measure of how he feels about your involvement here.” He raised an eyebrow, his voice a near-whisper. “Do you really think the Academician would disagree with any name you chose?”
Adela grinned. “No, I suppose not.” She gazed down on the quiet scene and thought about what the town and its inhabitants represented. To Jephthah and those he had been able to reach, she thought somberly, it was a threat to humanity itself. But to her, and to the countless others as enraptured with the discovery as she, what was occurring here was the very essence of knowledge. “I have no idea what it looks like in the daytime other than from the recordings. But the way it looks right now,” she said wistfully. “The lights … If I could call it anything I wanted … I’d call it ‘Jour Nouveau.” It means ‘New Day.’”
“I am not looking forward at all,” Anmoore said bluntly, “to what Jephthah’s reaction is going to be to any of this. We saw his harangue on the discovery itself; we’ve seen everything he’s done, for that matter … . Believe me, you miss out on a lot when you’re out on a survey vessel like the Blanca for years at a stretch. I suppose that’s why we tap into the tachyon nets for any kind of public communication, just to feel a little less disconnected from the rest of the Hundred Worlds. Anyway, we’ve managed to intercept just about every broadcast he’s made.” His face turned sour and he sighed heavily in disgust. “What he said about you was just, just—”
“It’s all right,” Adela interjected, sparing him the explanation. “I’ve come to terms with his lies. That’s why I’m here.”
Anmoore nodded. “I’m glad you are.”
A hint of gray had appeared over the mountains to the east of Jour Nouveau, and Adela realized the two of them had been talking for several hours. As she looked into the quiet valley she could see that many individual pinpoints of brightness still twinkled through the gathering mist as it rolled in off the river, but here and there lights began to wink out with the approaching light of dawn. A new day in Jour Nouveau.
Only three of them remained in the main room of the observation deck to greet the dawn, although Hannah had dropped out of the conversation some time ago, and now snored softly in her chair. Judging from the way her head had lolled to one side against her shoulder, Adela mused, she would have a stiff neck for certain when she awoke.
The rest had long ago drifted off one by one into the personnel quarters to get some sleep. Adela tried not to speculate on whether the IPC agent who had surely accompanied them was sleeping soundly with the others or was, even now, watching them, listening to their conversation. After weeks of trying to get used to the fact that one of them was always somewhere nearby, ready to protect her, she still had trouble putting the role of the dreadful deathguards into any kind of reasonable perspective, much less out of her mind.
Which one are you? she asked silently of the three sleeping Kiska crew members in the other room. Pritsik? Hanson? Doss? Which one of you would kill, without remorse, everyone here if you thought it necessary to carry out your orders from Eric? Pritsik and Hanson were both a pa
rt of ship security—too obvious. Doss? But the anthropologist seemed to be exactly what he claimed to be. Stop it, stop it, stop it! I’m making myself crazy with this. She shook her head in frustration, making up her mind that her first order of business when she met with Lewis face-to-face would be to demand their immediate removal … .
The xenoguide shifted noisily in her chair, drawing Adela’s attention away from the IPC, and she said softly so as not to wake up Hannah, “I’ve read and seen everything you encoded into the Paloma Blanca’s records and sent back to Luna before the blackout was instituted, as well as the contents of the hand-delivered data stick waiting for me when we exited the wormhole. Brendan and Lewis have already scheduled a full session for the four of us later today, but what else can you tell me about them?”
“Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “Understand that they have no electronic communications, no radio, not even wired communications that we could easily monitor. Everything we know about them has been obtained in one of two ways: spectrographic and photographic data collected from orbit and from long-distance observation posts like this one, and a concerted search for artifacts in uninhabited areas. Without electronic interaction of any kind—no electricity! —there’s no way to tap into their records, if they have any, or their day-to-day communication. We have gotten lucky in a few areas, however.”
“Luck is good,” Adela put in pleasantly. “It’s long past time we started having some.”
“Agreed. We have a full physiological make up on them, or at least on the males. We discovered several bodies in a harsh, remote area about eighty kilometers to the southwest. Fortunately, they were in good shape and we obtained as complete a pathology on them as we could have hoped for, save inviting one of them to come in and have a seat while we poked and prodded at him.
