Delta Pavonis (19 page)

Later, at their quarters, Dierdre asked Sieglinde: "Why do they do it?"

"Why does who do what?" Sieglinde seemed to be in a good mood. She had established a moral ascendancy over the Sálamids, which they had acknowledged, even if they weren't quite sure how she had done it.

"The Sálamids. I can see how you can dedicate your life to actually
doing
something, but there's been nothing for them to do for decades. They work and train like maniacs, and there's nobody for them to fight. For all they know, we may never have to fight enemies again. They could be wasting their lives."

"It's a self-contained way of life." She pulled clothes from a bag and tossed them onto her bunk. "They're like monks, only instead of religion and salvation, they're motivated by a sense of duty. In theory, it's their duty to be prepared, and they've discharged that duty if they've remained prepared to fight. Whether they actually fight in a war is irrelevant."

She sat on her bunk and looked at Dierdre. "But, you're right. They see their lives slipping away with no opportunity to exercise their special skills. Secretly, maybe unconsciously, and they'd never admit it, they're itching for a fight. It would be vindication. It would justify a lifetime of sacrifice and self-denial. People give them a hard time. Every one of those young troopers could tell you of parents, friends and family who were shocked at their career choice, who told them that they were wasting their lives."

"And now they're hoping the aliens will be hostile?"

"Yes. And that's why I want to keep this bunch on a tight rein. I'm afraid that open hostilities may not be necessary. They'll jump at implied hostility, and that would be the end for us all."

A few days later they had the first clear holographs of the alien vessel. It floated above them in fall-environment holo, a translucent ellipsoid of immense size. It glowed from within, a soft radiance that silhouetted a lacy framework of struts, probably an internal bracing.

Sieglinde was studying a fast-flashing readout as she scanned the ship. The room was full of officials and scientists. Some were really there, others were present in holograph.

"It's huge!" said a physicist named Renko. "Even larger than our largest asteroid ships."

"Look at its mass, though," Sieglinde said. "Like it's made out of soap bubbles. That exterior skin must be about a molecule thick. The inner structure can't be much more substantial."

"How do they cope with radiation?" someone wondered.

"It may be unmanned," said someone else.

"Then why did they leave the lights on?" Dierdre asked. "Electronic equipment works fine in the dark."

"Maybe I'm letting my imagination play tricks," Sieglinde said, "but does anyone else get the same impression I do, that this ship is old?" The emphasis was clear in her voice.

"I was about to say something of the sort," said Landru, a famous archaeo-anthropologist "Despite the translucency, it has a battered look and"—he made an eloquent gesture—"it simply has the feel of antiquity."

"So how long has it been in space?" Sieglinde wondered. "Has it been traveling all this time, or did they take it out of mothballs?" Nobody seemed inclined to answer. In the absence of any data, a judicious silence was observed all around.

These were tense times. From first word of the aliens' approach, rumor and speculation had run through the Island Worlders ships, orbitals and planetside bases with incredible speed, variety and recklessness. Some regarded the advent of the aliens with fear, others with awe, others with near-religious hope. Sometimes it seemed to Dierdre that everyone had sent rationality out through the airlock and replaced it with a sort of apprehension little short of hysteria.

Dierdre had to admit, though it pained her to do so, that she was not immune to the current atmosphere of unreason. She knew that she was being egocentric, perhaps to an unhealthy degree. Nevertheless, she had the nagging feeling that because she had been the first to use the transporter the aliens had come looking for her. Borrowing her own phrase, Sieglinde had named this the "Goldilocks syndrome" and threatened to publish a paper on it someday, when she had the time. Considering Sieglinde's schedule, there was little chance of her carrying through on the threat, but Dierdre felt that it constituted blackmail, all the same.

"Course alteration," said a technician, studying a continuous readout. "Still consistent with approach to planetary orbit. Deceleration constant. Three days, four hours, fifteen minutes to a stable parking orbit. Give or take a few hours, depending on the altitude they select. Optimum time estimate is for the lowest stable orbit."

"Wonderful," Sieglinde said. "Three more days to sit on our hands and wait for them to make the first move."

"There's no rush," Dierdre said, shakily. "I'd just as soon they take their time. I sort of like the leisurely approach; give us time to get used to each other, maybe after a year or two, we could open a dialogue."

"Easy, Dee," Steve said from behind her, sotto voce, "you're getting bad for morale."

She fumed. He would never take her seriously. She knew that there was no real reason why he should, but it still hurt that he was so insensitive. There were some feelings for which a person should not be required to supply a rational explanation.

It had started a few nights before. He had been restive, jittery, the way he always was when he had to spend an extended time away from the bush. It was especially hard on him here in the arctic, where you couldn't even walk away from the base without a lot of cold weather gear, and then there was nothing to see except ice and snow. She was, however, tired of sympathizing with him, and wanted a little sympathy for herself, which was not forthcoming.

"I can't help it, I'm scared! We've seen what they can do, they're like gods! And I messed with their property."

"We've been messing with their property since Derek tripped over their power packs. What makes you so special?"

"The transporter took me apart and reassembled me. They may record transmissions and have a complete genetic readout on me."

"So what? Don't you think it's a little self-important, thinking that a race of gods have come from who knows where just to hunt you down?" He smiled his maddening smile. It was amused, superior, and it infuriated her. Before she could erupt, he wrapped his arms around her. "Putting on a little weight, aren't you?" He pinched softly here and there and soon she was giggling and after that it was better, for a while. But, things hadn't really changed.

And now the aliens were nearing.

After the alien ship analysis session, Sieglinde began giving orders for cessation of operations. "I'm shutting down the transporter labs until we know where we stand with the aliens. We may have to leave this system fast. Everyone we can spare is going on leave and that means up to the orbitals."

"We should have started this operation as soon as the alien ship was detected, then," Dierdre said. "It would take weeks for everyone on-planet to get back into space." She thought for a few seconds. "Back, hell, we even have some that were born down here." There had been cases where some back-to-nature types had insisted on trying natural childbirth under full-grav conditions, usually much to the mother's regret.

"I've floated the idea to the
Althing
for weeks," Sieglinde said. "But, since it's a political or at best free-choice matter, rather than a scientific question, my influence is marginal at best."

"What were their objections?"

"Several. Some are convinced that the aliens must be wise and benevolent. That's a reasonable surmise, but an unwise assumption. Nothing to bet your life on, anyway. Others don't want an unseemly show of timidity, especially one that might quickly degenerate into panic. There's certainly good reason for that point of view. And some are just unwilling to look scared. Our population is overburdened with that type."

"Steve's that way," Dierdre admitted.

Sieglinde leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, frowning. "I was hesitant about pushing a cautious attitude myself. Not because of the aliens and what they might do, but because of the Sálamids. If they could say the great Sieglinde Kornfeld is worried that the aliens might prove hostile, they'd have that much more excuse to demand a greater role and more discretionary power." She looked less self-assured than usual. "I don't know, maybe I was wrong to soft-pedal the danger. I hope I'm not letting my fear of military action cloud my judgment."

"Does the
Althing
really have the power to order an evacuation?" Civics had never been one of her strong subjects.

"No. For some reason, nobody took this into account when the Articles were drawn up. The Island Worlds are technically ships, and the commanding officer on duty can take unilateral action to assure the ship's safety without consulting the Board of Navigation or the governing council, but ordering an evacuation of a planet or a system would call for a referendum. Which, knowing us, would take forever to arrange. What we have is a cooperative system agreed to by near-anarchists, not a true government."

"I've always had trouble getting along myself," Dierdre admitted. "I guess I'm not as different from everyone else as I used to think."

"I wish some of Thor's diplomatic skills had rubbed off on me," Sieglinde said, with a genuine sigh.

This was interesting. Sieglinde seldom spoke of her husband. "As I understand it, diplomacy is sort of a lost art. He was good at it, huh?"

She smiled. "He was the best. Anyone he couldn't charm he could browbeat or simply outlast. Once his reputation was established, just seeing him across the table was enough to half-defeat the other side's negotiators. I think he was the only diplomat in history to conclude a war by letting the other side pretend they'd won."

Intrigued, Dierdre said, "There've always been rumors about the First Space War. What's the story on that?"

Sieglinde smiled. "Not a chance. We all swore to secrecy, the dozen of us who worked out the agreement. Our various memoirs get uncorked twenty years after the last of us dies, and I'm the last one alive."

"You mean the conspiracy theorists have been right all along?"

Sieglinde ran a hand through her short hair and her smile turned wry. "Sometimes I think all of human history comes about through conspiracy. Other times I think the conspirators are just fooling themselves. I've been involved in a few, and often as not the result would have come about whether we'd schemed and made deals or not. Or else we got what we wanted and the end result was something totally unexpected. And now this."

"What do you mean?" Dierdre asked, mystified by the last remark.

"We're coming up on an event for which all planning and plotting is futile. This will be one of those unique incidents of history; the meeting of two utterly separate races, cultures, histories. There's no precedent and no way we can prepare for it. Except to keep an open mind." She turned very grave. "And the option of flight."

"That option sounds better to me all the time. Doc, what do you say we pack up and move operations to something mobile and really fast?"

"No. Our duty lies down here. The consensus is that the aliens will first contact us in space, probably in orbit, and most likely at our largest orbital colony, to wit: Avalon. I don't think so. I may be going out on a wild flight of fancy, trying to second-guess a species unknown to us, but I think it's going to be here, at their main transport system on this planet. From now on, one of us is going to be on duty in the main transport chamber at all times."

Dierdre felt a little sick. "Just the two of us?"

"Others can help if they want. I'm not going to coerce any of them into staying, but besides whoever else is in the chamber, one of us will be there, in charge."

"Why me? I mean, I'm flattered, but you have plenty of more experienced, better qualified . . ."

"No, I don't," Sieglinde cut in. "What's called for here isn't any scientific or technical expertise. Any we have is paltry compared to what the aliens have. I need someone with me who is attuned to my thinking and my temperamental quirks, I'm almost a hundred years old, Dierdre. In all that time I've gotten along better with you than with any other human being."

Dierdre was stunned, "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. I include Thor. We loved one another, but we never really got along very well."

"I know the feeling," Dierdre said, thinking of Steve. Then another thought occurred to her. "You know, Doc, I've heard lots of people gripe about how impossible you are, not naming any names, of course, but I've never found you hard to get along with. Come to think of it, I've never worked for anybody who chewed me out less."

"We're two of a kind, although there is a disproportion of degree. Oddly, in most cases neither of us gets along with anyone who resembles us at all. You grew up thinking yourself a misfit, but I was a genuine freak. I was not merely possessed of a true scientific talent and genius; I was immensely valuable. I had no parents, no peers, and, at first, no self-definition except as the most valuable little girl in the solar system."

"I guess I've had it easy compared to you." Dierdre admitted.

Sieglinde looked at her strangely, as if doing a double-take. "Do I sound self-pitying? I didn't intend to. Actually, I never felt deprived when I was younger. I couldn't imagine the lives of other children, so I felt no envy. I did feel manipulated and endangered. So, when I was still a child, I escaped, disappeared and went into an underground of my own creation."

"That's why there's no record of you at all, prior to Island Worlds independence?"

"Right. I needed a place where I could live as I wanted, where I could do the work that had to be done. Ugo Ciano made it all possible. Martin Shaw was the great rebel, Thor was the statesman, Chih Chin Fu was the propagandist, and Sálamis supplied most of the military expertise, but I created the Confederacy because I needed a place to live. Later, when even space was no longer safe in the Sol System, I made it possible for the whole republic to escape. Does that sound egotistical?"