Convergent Series (69 page)

"Hopeless." Graves turned to the others. "Totally hopeless. I have worked with a score of intelligences, through the whole of the spiral arm, but with this—this silver
bubble-brain
there can be no meeting of minds, no basis for negotiation."

"Mebbe. And mebbe not." Louis Nenda glanced around at the others. "D'you agree with the councilor? Nothin' to lose, nothin' to gain? 'Cause if you do, mind if I take a shot?"

"Go ahead." Hans Rebka had a little grin on his face. "Try your thing."

"All right." Nenda walked over to stand right in front of Speaker-Between. "The selection procedure isn't over, you say. I'll buy that. But the Zardalu are out of it, so it's just between two species. Cecropians, and humans. Right?"

"That is a correct conclusion."

"And it doesn't matter how many humans and Cecropians fight it out, does it? You were quite happy to leave us to tackle fourteen Zardalu, even though there were only a handful of humans, and a couple of aliens."

"In our experience, the number of entities is rarely the deciding factor."

"Fair enough. So the selection could be done just as well if there was only
one of each
—one human, and one Cecropian?"

"That is wholly reasonable."

"All right, then. So what's the point of keeping this whole crazy roster? Let the rest go—and
keep just two of us
. Me and Atvar H'sial. We'll fight it out between us."

"No."
Graves was shaking his head violently. "That is a sacrifice that I will not ask of anyone. To leave you here, while the rest of us return to safety, it would be—"

"Hey, what do you mean,
safety
? Goin' back is different for me and At than for the rest of you. Look what happens to us when we get there. We're charged with serious crimes the minute we hit civilization, and next thing you know we're jailed or brain-wiped. Not much fun in that.

"I am the person who brought those charges." Graves's skeletal face bore an expression of anguish. "I will petition to have them dropped. After what you and Atvar H'sial did, to save us from the Zardalu—"

"You can
petition
, sure you can. Maybe that'll get us off the hook. But maybe it won't. Seems to me, At and yours truly ain't much worse off
here
than we are
there
. For the rest of you, it's a different story. You get to go back home, and write your nice little reports on everything that happened. Chase the Zardalu, too, if there's time left over and they didn't fly ass-over-tentacle up their own wazoo. But
me
." He shrugged.

The flower head was nodding. "Your internal disputes are not germane to my decision. However, the proposal you make is acceptable. If one human and one Cecropian remain to complete the selection process, the rest may return to the spiral arm. It can be to your most recent departure point, or to any other place of your choosing. If you wish it, and if I can ascertain it, your destination can even be the final arrival point of the Zardalu—assuming that location is able to support life."

"No, thanks." Rebka cut off discussion, just as Graves was about to start up again. "We have to warn other people before we start chasing. We'll go back to somewhere safe."

He turned to Louis Nenda. "As for you . . . I don't usually find it hard to know what to say. But you've got me this time. All I can think of is, thanks—from all of us. And pass that thank-you on to Atvar H'sial."

Nenda grinned. "I will, in a minute. First I've got to explain to At what she just volunteered for."

Graves stared at him pop-eyed. "You
are
joking, aren't you? Atvar H'sial already gave her approval for your proposal."

"Sure. Sure I'm joking." Nenda was turning casually away. "Don't worry about it. No problem."

But Kallik was stepping forward. "So it is settled, then. The rest will return. And Atvar H'sial, Louis Nenda, and their loyal servants, Kallik and J'merlia, will remain."

"Whoa, now." Nenda held up his hand. "I never said
that
." He looked at Speaker-Between and Hans Rebka. "If you don't mind, At and I and J'merlia and Kallik need a few words in private. Five minutes?"

He ushered the other three out of the chamber at once, not waiting for a nod of assent.

"You see, Kallik." His voice was oddly gentle as they came to a smaller room, out of earshot of the others. "You have to understand the situation. Things are different now. Not like what they was, back in the good old days before we went to Quake. They've changed. And
you've
changed, you and J'merlia. I've been translating for Atvar H'sial as we go, and she agrees with me completely. It wouldn't be
right
for you to be slaves anymore—either of you."

"But Master Nenda, that is what we
want
! J'merlia and I, we followed you from Opal, only that we might be with you and serve you again."

"I know. Don't think we don't appreciate that, me and At." Nenda had tears in his eyes. "But it wouldn't work out, Kallik. Not now. You've been deciding your own actions ever since we left you behind on Quake. You've been thinking for yourselves,
doing
for yourselves. You've tasted independence. You've
earned
independence."

"But we do not
want
independence!" J'merlia's voice rose to a mournful wail. "Even though Atvar H'sial agrees with you, this should not be. It
must
not be."

"See? That makes my argument exactly." Nenda reached out to pat J'merlia's narrow thorax. "Listen to yourself! Atvar H'sial says what she wants you to do—an' you start
arguing
with her. Would you have done that two months ago?"

"Never!" J'merlia held up a claw to cover his compound eyes, appalled at his own temerity. "Argue with Atvar H'sial? Never. Master Nenda, with my most humble apologies and sincere regrets—"

"Stow it, J'merlia. You've proved the point. You and Kallik go on back, and start helping to run the spiral arm. You're as qualified as any species. I've known that for a long time."

"But we don't
want
to help to run the spiral arm!"

"Who does? That's what humans call the
Smart Bugs' Burden
. You gotta go back there and carry it, even though you don't want to. Otherwise, it will be the Ditrons who'll have to organize things."

"Master Nenda, please say that you are joking! The Ditrons, why they have less brains than—than some of the—"

"Before you put your foot in it real bad, J'merlia, I'll say yeah, I was joking. But
not
about the fact that you and Kallik have to go back. For one thing, Kallik's the only intelligent being in the spiral arm who's actually
talked
to Zardalu. That might be important."

J'merlia crawled forward and placed his head close to Atvar H'sial's hind limbs. "Master Nenda, I hear you. But I do not want to leave. Atvar H'sial is my dominatrix, and has been since I was first postlarval."

"Don't gimme that—"

"Allow me, Louis, if you will." The pheromonal message from Atvar H'sial carried a glint of dry humor. "With all respect, violent action is your forte, not reasoned persuasion." The towering Cecropian crouched low to the floor and brought her smooth blind head close to J'merlia. "Let us reason together, my J'merlia. Would you agree with me when I say that any intelligent being either
is
a slave, or is
not
a slave? That those two conditions are the only two logical possibilities?"

"Of course." J'merlia, once the slave-translator for Atvar H'sial, caught every nuance of meaning in her chemical message. He shivered without knowing why, sensing already that his cause was lost.

"Now you and Kallik," Atvar H'sial continued. "You are both intelligent beings, are you not?"

"Yes."

"Therefore either you are slaves, or you are not slaves. Agreed?"

"That is true."

"And if you are
not
slaves, then it is inappropriate for you to
pretend
that you are, by stating that you must remain here to serve me and Louis Nenda. You should go back to the spiral arm with the others and begin to live the life of free beings. A nonslave should not mimic a slave. True?"

"True."

"But suppose now that you
are
slaves, both you and Kallik; then you have no choice but to
obey the orders of your masters
. And those orders are quite explicit: Louis Nenda and I order you to return to the spiral arm and assist in finding the Zardalu if they are still alive. Thus in either case, slave or nonslave, you cannot remain here with us."

"Thanks, At." Nenda stepped forward and nodded to the Cecropian. "Couldn't have put it better myself." He turned to J'merlia and Kallik. "So that's the deal. We all go back in there now. You tell Speaker-Between and the others that you're ready to go. Right?"

Kallik and J'merlia exchanged a brief flurry of clicks and whistles.

"Yes, Mas—" Kallik caught herself before the word was fully out. "Yes, Louis Nenda. We are ready. J'merlia and I agree that we must return to the spiral arm with the others. We have no choice. We want to add only one thing. If ever you and Atvar H'sial need us, then you have to send only one word,
Come
, and we will hasten to your side."

The Hymenopt touched her black round head to the floor for a fraction of a second, then stood fully upright. She and J'merlia began to walk, without permission, from the chamber.

"And we will come
joyfully
," she added.

"Joyfully," J'merlia repeated. "A human or a Cecropian may find this hard to understand—but there is no pleasure in
enforced
freedom."

All set. 
 

But Birdie Kelly was going mad with frustration.

Everything had been ready for hours. The descending ramp to a new transportation vortex sat waiting in the next chamber, close enough for the airflow around the spinning singularity to be felt on skin and exoskeletons. Speaker-Between had assured the group that the system was prepared to receive them, with an assured safe destination. It would transfer to Midway Station, halfway between the planets of Quake and Opal; a perfect location from Birdie's point of view, since it was the last place in the spiral arm where the Zardalu were likely to have arrived.

But now, at the very last moment, everyone seemed to be having second thoughts about going at all.

"If I had one more opportunity to
reason
with Speaker-Between, I feel sure I could persuade him of the unsound basis for the Builders' plan." That was Steven Graves, talking with Hans Rebka. Julius, unable to handle the idea of leaving Louis Nenda and Atvar H'sial to their uncertain fate, had abandoned the field to his interior mnemonic twin. Steven had been making the most of his opportunity.

"It stands to reason," he went on, "that many races working
cooperatively
would have more chance of helping the Builders to solve
The Problem
than any species working
alone
. Humans and Cecropians should be engaged in a joint effort, not fighting each other to decide who will assist the Builders."

"It stands to
your
reason," Rebka countered. Like Birdie he was itching to be on his way, though for different reasons. He was still seeing nightmares in midnight blue returning to dominate the spiral arm. He wanted to follow the trail before it was too cold. "You know that the Builders have a completely different worldview from any species we have ever met. And Speaker-Between is a Builder construct. You could argue with him for a million years—he has that much time—and you'd never persuade him to abandon two hundred million years of Builder prejudice. Give up, Steven, and tackle a problem we may be able to solve. Ask yourself where the Zardalu went, and what they are doing."

On that crucial question, Speaker-Between had been too vague for comfort. The best after-the-fact analysis showed that the Zardalu transition had been completed to an end point on a Builder artifact, probably in the old Zardalu Communion territories. It did not indicate which one, or offer any idea of what might have happened next.

Darya Lang was proving just as reluctant to leave.

"I know
someone
has to go back home and worry about the Zardalu." She was examining a series of incomprehensible structures that lined the chamber, an array of fluted glass columns with turbulent green liquid running through them. "But if I leave, who is going to study things like
this
? I've spent my whole working life seeking the Builders. Now that I've run them down, it makes no sense to leave. Once I go I may never have an opportunity to come back."

"Of course you will." Louis Nenda seemed as keen as anyone to speed the others' departure. He took her by the arm and began to lead her in the direction of the vortex ramp. Ahead of him, Atvar H'sial was shepherding J'merlia and Kallik in the same direction.

"You heard what Speaker-Between says," Nenda continued. "The transport-system entry point on Glister won't be closed. You can go there and return here whenever you like. And when you go to Glister next time you'll be a lot better prepared.
And
you can have a good look at the wild Phages, too."

He reached his arm around Darya and deliberately stroked her hip. "Better go, sweetie, before I change my mind about lettin' you run off with Rebka."

She quietly removed herself from his arm and stared down at him from her six-inch height advantage. "Louis Nenda, I swore when I first met you that if you ever laid a lecherous finger on me, I'd bat your brains out. Now you've done it, and I can't bring myself to flatten you. You've changed, haven't you? Since you went to Glister? You touched my hip just to annoy me."

"Naw." The bloodshot eyes flicked up to meet her face, then went straight back to stare at her midriff. "I didn't do it
just
to annoy you. And it isn't a change just since Glister." His hoarse voice became even gruffer than usual, and he reached out to take her hand. "It happened before that. On Opal, when we first met."

He seemed ready to say more, but Speaker-Between appeared again, drifting up the tunnel that led to the vortex. He seemed oblivious to the strong gravity field, and to the swirling air around his silver body.