Prologue
As a cultural xenophilosopher of the eighth ranking, Dahnak often doubted the
specifics of any given research program, but he rarely doubted the program itself. How
could he? Though he'd only arrived at the Watcher base in this system less than two cycles
ago, he'd been studying the Emergents of this world for nearly fifty cycles now, since not
long after they'd begun broadcasting, in fact. He'd been brought here because of his
experience with paleotechnic Emergents, and to doubt the value of the program would be
like doubting himself, a kind of self-abnegatory suicide-by-philosophy that might have
appealed to the ethereally minded group consciousness of a Hjarghan Composite but would
simply never do for one of the stolid, practical-minded Kluj.
He didn't doubt. Not really.
Even so, as the subject was marked and tracked, as the time for action approached at
last, he couldn't help but feel a flutter in both his hearts and sense an anticipatory
pingling of his own snasnet and a quickening in the dlool glands. Was what they were doing
right?
The Unity would certainly condemn them for what they were planning. Still, what other
options were there?
The Watchers had been observing this particular world for well over a hundred of its
rotations about its sun. At first, they'd been there primarily to protect the Emergents
from starfaring predators; there'd been little they could do in the way of actual cultural
studies, of course, save watch from a distance the inexorable growth of those grotesque
city-masses of poured stone as they slowly engulfed vast stretches of living planetary
surface and darkened the atmosphere with their emissions.
Before long, however, the Emergents had begun transmitting on various radio
frequencies, announcing their presence to the Galaxy as they began the long climb toward
technic sophistication. Their technology, of course, was almost ostentatiously primitive
and of little interest even to paleotechnohistorians. Radio, television, and nuclear
fission, after all, represented such obvious initial steps on the upward path to full
awareness--at least on the gross physical side of sapient evolution--and there was little
to be learned there by even the most careful paleotechnological field studies. Zhast!
These beings still shoved electrons through copper wires, for Eldar's sake! They were just
a few toddling steps beyond chipped stone, deistic pleading, and ethnic humor.
But the cultures . . . by the vanished Kaala Tah, the cultures!
The Kluj had been sampling the creatures' broadcasts for almost ten fives of the
planet's revolutions now, trying to understand even a fraction of the astonishing variety
of thought, social interrelationships, and philosophy revealed there. Tremendous progress
had been made; much remained to be learned. It would take a thousand cycles at least to
comprehend this rich, emotional, and polycultural species, which called itself . . . human.
It was tragic, of course, that the Kluj needed to intervene directly. They were
Watchers, after all, and direct action never came easily. But the crisis that loomed over
the entire Galactic Unity might annihilate them all before another cycle was complete . .
. and if some of these most recent broadcasts from the Emergents' world were to be
believed, the humans might possess the ability to defuse the crisis and avert the first
pangalactic war in half a million cycles.
So much depended on the identity of the subject they were tracking. Either he was an
Eldar in disguise, as Thujan and the Harmon-as-Alien faction insisted, or he was human but
somehow controlled by hidden Eldar somewhere on the planet. There were no other
possibilities that made sense. Laakenthu's theory--that this thing the humans call
"fiction" was intended as a form of metaphilosophical actualization--had to be
wrong. No rational species could be that bizarre.
No, either the subject was Kaala Tah, or he was their puppet. There were no other
options.
Dahnak, frankly, favored the puppet idea--with the real Eldar somewhere out of sight
and possibly controlling the human through some form of psychic remote control--though he
intended to keep an open mind.
In any case, the question would soon be answered once and for all. The subject would be
abducted. And while Thujan and Nalis were carrying out their part of the Plan, Dahnak
would get his long-dreamed-of chance to study the humans up close, to actually go among
them in disguise. A daring gamble . . . but a necessary one.
As ever, the Unity was less than totally . . . unified in thought, theory, or
action concerning the new Emergents. The Homus argued that the new-found race should be
left strictly alone, the Nagrech insisted that their offensively pollutant radio and
television emissions should be terminated, the Grondel felt the beings should be communed
with until they slephered, and the Daughters of the Night, as ever, argued that the new
species was not truly intelligent and would therefore provide excellent long-term
opportunities for recreational feeding.
And every one of those Unity member-species, and countless others, would have shrieked
like a shucked momogremin if they'd known what Dahnak and his little cabal of Klujan
Watchers were about to attempt.
It was, Dahnak was forced to admit, just a little terrifying.
He could hardly wait to get started. . . . |