Chapter Seven
Lisa Arden floated cross-legged and gazed at Sar-Say less than a meter distant. It had been nearly a month since she had moved into the alien’s cage and, except for quick jaunts to her own unused quarters following the lifting of the quarantine, she had spent the entire time getting to know her roommate. Her world had shrunk to these six walls and Sar-Say. It took a moment of thought to remember what her flat in London looked like, or for that matter, London itself. She knew she was nearing the limits of her personal endurance but was too fascinated by what she was learning to quit.
The good news was that Sar-Say was a phenomenally quick study. He heard everything told him and seemed never to forget anything. Indeed, lately he had taken to quoting entire conversations he had overheard before he could speak a word of Standard. To be able to parrot back formerly meaningless sounds was all the proof she needed that the alien had an eidetic memory.
Lisa wished that she had the same ability. As an aid to Sar-Say’s learning the language, she was learning his tongue. Many a night she had awakened in her sleeping net pinned to the bulkhead with her mind in a whir as her brain tried to sort all of the new knowledge she was forcing into it. She had almost forgotten what it was like to cram for finals in school. She had been cramming for finals for 28 days now and felt as if each day had aged her a full year.
Lisa was restrained by twin straps attached to her belt while Sar-Say preferred to wrap his legs through the frame in which he perched. Lisa held aloft a large photograph of a tree.
“Tree” she enunciated clearly.
Yellow eyes encountered green eyes. “What ... is ... tree ... Leesaa?”
“It is a plant that grows on Earth.”
“Is word ... general ... or ... sp ... specific?”
“General,” she replied. “It refers to a large number of different plants. Among the trees are pines, oaks, redwoods, eucalyptus, and hundreds of others. We group all of these under ‘tree’ for convenience.”
“What difference ‘bush’?”
“A bush is a smaller plant. Trees are much taller than men are. Bushes are about the size of men.”
Sar-Say blinked and made the gesture that signified that he understood. “The word in my language is ‘sszalt.’”
“Sszalt,” she pronounced carefully. “That ought to be easy to remember. It sounds like our word ‘salt.’”
“No, the word is different. You are not hearing it well. It is ssszzaalt.”
“Ssszzaalt.”
“Much better,” Sar-Say agreed.
“Excellent,” Lisa said with a smile.
“What is next word, Leesaa?”
Lisa glanced at her chronometer and said, “That is enough for now. We need to get ready.”
“Ready for my interview?” Sar-Say asked.
“Yes. Dieter Pavel is most anxious to speak with you.”
So far, Lisa had avoided asking the alien about the circumstances that had brought him to be humanity’s guest aboard PoleStar habitat. That had not been her idea. Had she had her way, it would have been the very first subject they talked about when Sar-Say had developed sufficient vocabulary. Unfortunately, Dr. Bendagar had forbidden it. Therefore, she had spent her time telling Sar-Say about Earth and humans while he undoubtedly wondered at her lack of curiosity. But then, she often reminded herself, perhaps curiosity was not a universal trait among thinking beings—although she could not imagine a species getting to be intelligent without it.
“What he-I talk about?” Sar-Say asked after a momentary pause.
“I have tried to explain our government to you. Did you understand?”
The small apelike figure shrugged, a gesture that Lisa had learned was somewhat akin to a nod, but with more ambivalence to it.
“Well, Pavel is the World Coordinator’s personal representative. He wants to learn all he can about your people, how they live, what kind of economy you have, and your form of government.
“Pavel represents Earth government?”
“Yes.”
“And he wishes to ask questions from me?”
“Ask questions of you. Yes.”
“I not speak Standard well enough.”
“You speak it fine. Don’t worry, I will be there to help if you get stuck.”
“You mean poked with needle?”
She laughed. “No. It is an idiom. In this context it means if you do not understand something.”
“I not stuck. I understand.
“Do you need to use the toilet before we go?”
Sar-Say shook his head, a human gesture he had learned to copy. “I not eat or drink today.”
“Unfortunately, we humans are not built that way. Therefore, if you will excuse me for a moment, I will be right out. Then we will go see Dieter Pavel.”
* * *
In the month they had been studying Sar-Say, the medical specialists had concluded that the risk of contagion was minuscule—not zero, but low enough that it was a risk worth taking. The alien’s biochemistry was similar to human, but sufficiently different that one species’ bugs were unlikely to find the other tasty. Indeed, the exobiologists judged the risk to Earth to be less than the risk of an asteroid impact. With that welcome piece of news, Dr. Bendagar ordered Sar-Say’s strict quarantine ended. The decision had been an easy one to make. Working through a couple centimeters of armor glass had proved to be most inconvenient.
The past weeks had seen the arrival aboard PoleStar of twenty specialists in the biological and behavioral sciences. As quickly as they arrived, they had been put to work studying the living and dead aliens that Magellan’s crew had brought back. While half the team performed autopsies on the corpses, the other half studied Sar-Say. They cataloged the alien’s behavior, physique, and even the microscopic zoo that inhabited his body. For, like humans, Sar-Say possessed a self-contained ecology without which he would soon sicken and die. The research was giving the scientists a new appreciation for the biological complexity of Sar-Say’s home world.
To house the scientists and provide them with space in which to work, a large section of the PoleStar habitat had been turned into a research center. The cabins around the alien’s quarters were filled to overflowing with all manner of instruments and diagnostic tools. To enhance the free flow of information among the staff, a large storage compartment had been outfitted as a conference center. It was to the conference center that Lisa led Sar-Say. His longer arms made him far more adept at moving in microgravity than she was. Still, he was careful not to lose her as they both transited the weightless corridors. They found Dieter Pavel, Dr. Bendagar, and three scientists Lisa had yet to meet, already waiting for them when they arrived.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Sar-Say said as he pulled himself to one of the two empty restraint frames at the table. Lisa noted with pride how much his pronunciation had improved. Even a week earlier, the greeting would have been unintelligible to the untrained ear. The alien’s accent was still thick but improving. In another month, she suspected, Sar-Say would speak Standard better than she did. She only wished that her own progress in learning the alien speech had been as rapid.
“Good morning, Sar-Say,” Pavel replied. “I am pleased that you could join us. Did Lisa explain to you the purpose of this meeting?”
“She say you want to know about Sar-Say government.”
“Correct. We know that you come from an association of more than one star. Perhaps you can tell us how many.”
Sar-Say looked at Lisa and made a gesture that none of the others recognized. There was a hurried conference. When it was over, Lisa said, “You will have to excuse us for a bit, Mr. Pavel. Sar-Say understands our base ten numbering system, but has trouble converting from his own base-twelve math. We need to do some calculating.”
“Go right ahead.”
Lisa retrieved a stylus from her pocket and began scratching numbers on a writing pad. Every few seconds she would touch one corner to erase her scribblings and start over. Sar-Say made a few comments in his own language as she wrote. He, too, had a stylus and was making marks on a second pad. The latter consisted of a long series of dot patterns interspersed with swirl marks. Finally, alien and woman agreed. Lisa turned to the others and said, “I make it three times twelve to the fifth power.”
Pavel glanced at Dr. Bendagar, who was doing the math in his head. He gulped and looked at the coordinator’s representative. “That’s approximately one million!”
“You don’t understand,” Pavel said to Sar-Say. “I want to know the number of star systems there are in your civilization.”
“In base ten ... ten multiplied together six times,” Sar-Say said.
“Sixty stars?”
“No. Ten to sixth power.”
Pavel’s eyes nearly bugged. “You are seriously telling me you come from an association of one million suns?”
“If that is word for ten to sixth power.”
“But that is impossible!”
“Why?” Sar-Say asked.
“The distance between stars, for one. You could never hold such a massive organization together.”
“Stargate—” Sar-Say halted and turned to Lisa. The two had a conversation that was half-Standard and half-alien speech. Finally, Sar-Say turned back and said, “Stargate make space between stars unnecessary.”
“Irrelevant,” Lisa corrected. “The space between the stars is irrelevant.”
Sar-Say signaled his agreement and continued. “No difference travel near star or between stars.”
“My God!” Dr. Bendagar exclaimed. “A million of them! Considering the few truly habitable stars there are, this group must cover a significant fraction of the galaxy! How do you ever govern it, Sar-Say?”
“I not govern. Broa govern.”
“Broa? What is that? Some species or merely your name for your ruling class?”
“Broa one species.”
“How did they get the job? Are they so talented at governing that the rest of you decided to let them run your affairs?”
“Don’t understand. Talk too fast.”
“What Dr. Bendagar is asking,” Lisa said, “is why do you allow the Broa to rule you?”
“Broa not ask. They have stargate. They control ... all stars.”
“You mean this one species rules a million suns?”
“Yes.”
This revelation was like a punch in the stomach to each of the humans. The concept was overwhelming. Humanity had but seven star systems and was in full possession of only a single one of those. Yet, Sar-Say claimed membership in a galactic empire encompassing a million suns. The implications were ... horrifying!
Dr. Bendagar was the first to recover. “What is your place in all of this, Sar-Say?”
“Sar-Say is Taff.”
“What is that?”
“Taff are people like Sar-Say. We trade.”
“You are a trader, did you say?”
The ensuing gesture was a good imitation of a human nod. “Sar-Say go from star to star, exchange knowledge and high cost goods, take elsewhere, exchange again for extra value.”
“If you are a trader, you must have seen a great many of your civilization’s stars.”
“No. Few. No being live long enough to see all stars controlled by Broa.”
Like Dr. Bendagar, Dieter Pavel had difficulty contemplating a million-star galactic empire. Then he had a truly frightening thought.
“Sar-Say,” Pavel said. “When we found you, your ship was being attacked by another ship.”
The alien turned to regard his interrogator. “Is true.”
“How many stars do those who attacked you rule?”
“Do not understand.”
“We have theorized that the ship that attacked you was from a second interstellar civilization. How many stars?”
“You wrong. Broa attack.”
“The Broa attacked you? It was one of their ships?”
“Yes. Warship of the third most powerful type.”
“But why? Had you done something wrong?”
“Do not know. Broa not communicate before attack.”
“But they must have had a reason.”
“Broa do not confide in Sar-Say, or in others. They wish, they do.”
“How many stars have you seen?” Pavel asked, returning to his original line of questioning. Professor Fenner from the University of North America looked as though he were about to explode, while his two companions were not doing much better.
“Fewer than twelve to the second power,” the alien answered.
“And each of these has its own native species?”
The alien made a gesture that Lisa did not recognize. “Many have native species. Many have species Broa put there.”
“You mean they have seeded those worlds with new life forms?” Pavel asked.
“Yes.”
“Because they were previously uninhabited?”
“No.”
“No, they weren’t uninhabited?”
The double negative clearly confused the alien, causing Dieter Pavel to rephrase. Sar-Say responded
“Many worlds possess native species when discovered. Species prove troublesome to Broa. Planets seeded with new lifeforms.”
“What about Earth? Would the Broa seed Earth with a new ecology?”
“Unknown,” Sar-Say replied. “If benefit Broa, humans ruled by Broa. If not, humans killed, Earth reseeded.”
“If we benefit the Broa, what will our status be?”
“Not understand.”
“Will we be given limited home rule? Will we be allowed to send representatives to some central government?”
“No government. Broa rule. All others ... servants.”
* * *
“Good morning, Captain. Good of you to come so quickly,” Anton Bartok said as he rose from behind his desk and strode toward Landon.
“Thank you, Director.”
“How was the flight down?”
“A little lonely on the first leg. On its return from PoleStar, the supply shuttle is just one big empty shell. I felt like a fly in an air cylinder.”
“Any trouble at Equatorial Station?”
“None, sir. I slipped into my civvies, boarded the ferry at the last moment, and started a good book as we reentered. Why the secrecy?”
“We have had a few people report conversations with inquisitive strangers lately. They all seem to want to know about your last mission. They are probably reporters nosing around.”
It was then that Landon noticed they were not alone. A large, rawboned woman sat in one of the visitor’s chair. The face, which not even a mother would classify as beautiful, was familiar to him.
“You know Laura Dresser, I believe.”
“Hello, Laura,” Landon said in reply.
“Hello, Dan,” she replied in a sultry voice. It was a voice that had originally caused him to picture someone quite different at a time when they had only spoken over voice circuits. In addition, Laura had a pair of archaic eyeglasses perched on her face. They had slid down her nose and she looked over them at Landon. “It has been about five years, hasn’t it? ”
He nodded. “Magellan’s last overhaul.”
Laura Dresser was a living, breathing contradiction. The glasses were her announcement to the world that she was a medievalist, one who lived her life in harmony with the precepts of an earlier (and supposedly simpler) age. In allegiance to her beliefs, she refused to wear synthetics, eat anything grown in a vat, or use perfumes formulated with human pheromones. Yet, she was also the best stardrive specialist in the survey. She led a crew of a hundred rugged individualists who could strip down a ship and within a few months, return it to a condition as close to perfection as was humanly possible to attain.
She was also a royal pain in the ass. She and Landon had done nothing but argue when he delivered his new command to her tender loving care five years earlier. They had barely been on speaking terms when she gave Magellan back after the overhaul. Still, she had done a perfect job on his ship, and for that, he could forgive everything.
“Captain, I understand you have worked out your operational plan for going back and salvaging the hulk of that alien wreck,” Bartok said, getting to the reason Landon had come down from orbit.
“Yes, sir. May I use your screen?”
“By all means.”
Landon reached into a pocket and retrieved a record module, which he inserted into the reader slot built into the director’s desk. The window polarized automatically to shut out the light and a screen illuminated in what had moments earlier appeared to be a large painting of a seashore.
On the screen was a star chart.
“New Eden, sir, is the third planet of a class G3 star. The star is just under a hundred light-years from here. Transit time each way is six days. I figure that we can strip the wreck and transport everything of value back here in three months if we use one of the big colony ships for transport.”
Bartok shook his head. “No colony ship.”
“Damn it, Director, you can’t just throw away a month’s planning like that!”
“I can and I will, Captain,” Bartok said, frostily, “if that is what the coordinator wants. You cannot have a colony ship because it would be too conspicuous leaving the system. If it spaces within a month of Magellan’s departure, people will notice and start to talk. There is already a rumor floating around headquarters to the effect that you came back early because you found a terrestrial planet.”
Landon smiled. “That rumor couldn’t possibly have started in this office as a cover for what really happened, could it?”
“Possibly. In any event, you cannot have one of our big ships.”
“Then how the hell do you expect me to transport the salvage back here, Director? We can’t very well tow it.”
“Maybe you won’t have to. Laura has an idea.”
There was a momentary pause as the two men turned to the stardrive expert. She peered at Landon over the top of her glasses and said, “My first thought upon learning of the wreck was the same as yours, Dan. Obviously, that ship is much too big to take onboard one of our own starships whole, so I figured we would have to carve it up and ship it home in pieces. The only problem with that approach is that we are liable to destroy as much alien technology as we save. Just imagine what would happen if you gave an able spacer a cutting laser and orders to chop up Magellan!
“Anton first brought me into this to evaluate the records you people brought home with you. About halfway through my review, it occurred to me that we might be able to fly the ship home.”
“How? It isn’t equipped with a stardrive and we don’t happen to have a stargate handy.”
“What if we install both a drive and a reactor in the wreck?”
“Same objection as bringing the wreck back in pieces. To transport the drive generator and power reactor, you will need a colony ship.”
“Not if we mount both on Magellan’s hull,” Laura Dresser said. “We will cross connect the new generator with the ship’s own drive, thereby extending the field to cover everything.”
“Will that work?”
“My computer says it will if we synchronize both generators properly. It might be a little tricky in practice.”
Right. Let us say you succeed with this jury-rig. Have you considered the risk of flying the hulk home? What if the drive breaks down en route?”
“Then you will be there to rescue us.”
Landon snorted. “Do you have any idea how much empty space there is in a light-year? If you disappear in that blackness, you will starve to death or run out of air long before we will be able to find you.”
“Then we had best not break down.”
Landon turned to the director. “Are you sure you want us to try this, sir? It seems a good way to lose a lot of talented people, not to mention our alien prize.”
Bartok glanced at the chronometer inset into his sleeve before fixing Landon with his gaze. “That is the reason I asked for this conference, Captain. Laura is the best we have when it comes to stardrives, but you have the practical experience. I want the two of you to work this plan, wring it out, and report back to me tomorrow on whether it is feasible or not. If you conclude there is too much risk, we will think up something else. Just remember, the longer we are in the New Eden system, the more likely it is that other aliens will show up.”