Vale of Stars (30 page)

“Well,” Khadre croaked, then cleared her throat noisily and began again. “Well, Madame Prime, we, that is, my research partner and myself”—Khadre motioned to Viktur, who smiled and waved dumbly—“have been researching some of the native marine life in the Bitter Sea. And what we’ve found out there….” She shook her head and could not stop herself from laughing in a combination of nervousness and the sheer joy of discovery. “Well, I think it would be best if we showed you. I’ve arranged with Original Kahlman for a holo.” she and looked vaguely at Kahlman, who nodded and rose from his seat. He gestured to the chamber attendant, and the room lighting dimmed.

The VHF sonar image filled the air above the pit, and Khadre cleared her throat again. “Uh, this image is just before the encounter. You can see…there,” she said when the kelp bed hove into view. “The kelp bed is almost a perfect square, about one hundred and eighty-eight meters by one hundred and ninety-six. We do not think this is a natural phenomenon.”

“Why not?” a voice Khadre did not recognize called out from the pit.

“Well, as you will soon see, there are a number of sea cows tethered nearby which—”

“Sea cows?”

“What do you mean, ‘tethered?’”

The two questions came almost simultaneously, and Khadre heard a slight rustling of bodies and the sounds of brief comments from the Originals. She could not make out all of the speech, but the undercurrent was clearly unfriendly. She licked her lips, fearful that she was losing credibility.

“If you’ll be a little patient, all your questions will be—”

“There!” Viktur said. He was pointing to the holo where the distant images of the “livestock” could be seen.

Khadre did not speak for a few seconds, letting the holo image speak for itself. She still heard mumbling from the pit, but it sounded more expectant now, less skeptical. The originals watched as the “farmer” herded his sea-cows towards the cliff face.

“Keep your eyes on the right-hand side of the image,” Khadre said. No sooner had she spoken than the swarm of dolphin-like creatures appeared and surrounded the herd. The holo froze on the image of the farmer armed with its spear-like horn poised to attack one of the herd animals.

Khadre approached the holo and spoke from inside it. “Viktur and I have spent considerable time analyzing the holo, especially this image. From what we have been able to determine, the horn is part of some kind of yoke the farmer slipped on outside sonar pickup. The horn is quite obviously artificial,” Khadre said, indicating key points on the holo, computer-enhanced discolorations she and Viktur had decided were crude straps attaching the implement to the creature’s head, “and is a tool, most likely for slaughtering the herd animals.”

The implications of her remarks were not lost on the Originals.

“You’re saying that there’s intelligent life in the sea,” Yallia said, her voice soft. She was not asking a question.

“I am,” Khadre said, straightening a little and looking at the assembled Originals. Few returned her glance—they were busily whispering to each other at their various tables.

“Originals, please. We have a lot to discuss here,” Yallia said and the whispering stopped. Yallia turned to Khadre. “I will want you and your partner to submit a full report as soon as you’re able. Send a copy to all of us in the room. Better yet, send a copy to the whole Family.”

“Madame Prime, is that wise?” Kahlman said. “We don’t really know anything about these animals. Should we be broadcasting our meager data to the Family at this time? Perhaps we should review the report first, and then decide what—”

Yallia cut him off angrily. “Decide what the Family can be trusted with? Why don’t we just erect a Dome while we’re at it, Franc? I will not have the Family denied information that could affect them.”

Khadre watched Kahlman hesitate, then say gently, “Madame Prime, I—”

“It’s not just the Family we have to worry about, Madame Prime,” A new voice from the back of the gallery said. Khadre recognized Lawson, the newest Original, as he rose from his seat. “I assume that the Domers have no idea these animals exist?”

He looked at Khadre, who, surprised at having been thus appealed to, spluttered, “Uh, not that I can see. They have never sent surface vessels that we know of, and certainly no submersibles. Robot probes and shallow-water drones only, mainly for commercial fishing near the desalinization plants. I doubt they know.”

“And we should keep it that way for as long as possible.”

“Why?” Khadre said, then tried to shrink back into herself. She hadn’t meant to challenge the Originals, but the question had been shocked out of her. She could feel Yallia’s eyes on her before the Prime Original spoke.

“Young woman, you are thinking that such knowledge is beyond petty national politics. You are thinking that the knowledge that we are not alone on this planet should be enough to unite the Domers and the Family. You think we should tell them, don’t you?”

Khadre nodded slowly, her eyes wide with awe.

Yallia sighed. “You youngsters are all alike. We are on the brink of war with the Domers—a war they started twenty-five years ago and which only now is turning in our favor. The Domers will never accept us, never consider us fully human. Nothing will ever change that. We must take this planet from them before they are able to fully adapt it to their alien bodies. We must destroy the terraforming stations.”

Silence echoed in the hall as the assembled Originals allowed Yallia to regain her composure. Khadre had heard the naked emotion in her voice—her hatred of the Dome and all inside, particularly of her mother. This was no secret, even outside the Original caste.

Khadre swallowed her fear and spoke in a shaky voice. “If we share the information, the Domers might stop their terraforming process on their own. To spare the native life.”

“On the contrary—they will redouble their efforts. The discovery will only scare the Domers into action.”

“Madame Prime? I agree with Khadre,” Lawson said. Yallia blinked at him. Lawson continued. “But not for the same reasons. We should delay our attacks on the terraforming stations until we can fully study this new phenomenon. In light of this, I further suggest that the information be held temporarily secret,” he placed considerable emphasis on the word ‘temporarily,’ “until we can study it.”

“I agree, Madame Prime,” Kahlman said. There were general nods of agreement from the Originals, and Yallia looked at them in obvious anger.

“We must strike now! The discovery of the native life is all the more reason for us to stop the terraforming process as quickly as possible!”

“Another few days will make no difference, Yallia,” Lawson said, his voice soft.

Khadre watched Yallia’s expression melt from rage to resignation. Khadre could see the pain of defeat in her face, and from it knew this was not the first time she had lost against the other Originals.

 “Very well. I ask for consensus: shall we postpone action, again, against the terraforming stations until such time as the Grand Session can study the report from Khadre Seelith and Viktur Ljarbazz?”

No one objected, and Yallia said softly, “so ordered.”  She looked down at her shoes for a moment, appearing to gather herself.

It was in Khadre at that moment to shout out, “No! Attack now! Do what this woman says, though it defies sense!” Such was her admiration for this Original who wanted so much to fight. She instead translated her impulse to anger at the other Originals, and for herself, for doing what was sensible and right, because it conflicted with what Yallia wanted.

*   *   *

The Commissar-General’s office was dim. Two figures, one seated, one standing, looked out at the dusky landscape beyond Valhalla Dome.

“You have seen much more than I, of course, but I can’t help feeling life inside the Domes was somehow…more orderly before,” Commissar-General Ludith Nessel said to the old man who sat near her.

The man harrumphed. “And will be again. If you follow through. Do you have the intelligence report?” His voice was a harsh, throaty growl. It demanded instead of requested.

“I do. Our operative sent it a few hours ago.” Nessel retrieved a thin folder from her desk and offered it to the man. He ignored the folder.

“What does it say? In brief.”

“The Family has discovered some kind of quasi-intelligent life in the oceans. They are planning to investigate and, in fact, are probably doing so now.”

“Hmph. So they are suspending any further attack plans on other Dome installations?”

“Yes.”

The old man nodded. “Good. Reinforce those stations, Nessel. Send troops, no matter how green, to defend them.”

“You think I should send untrained troops?” Nessel’s voice was uncertain.

“What other kind do you have? A few dozen internal security officers? You’ll need those for the Domes in the days to come. Besides, the outcasts will not press the attack when they see you have prepared to meet them. Guerrilla tactics,” he snorted derisively.

“What about the discovery?”

The man waved away the comment with a single motion of his gnarled hand. “It is of no consequence.”

“I think it might become so. I don’t want the Family to discover something they can use against us.”

“It won’t matter. Once the terraforming process is complete, native life will have been replaced by our own flora and fauna. Whatever the outcasts have discovered will remain as a curiosity only.”

“Still, I want to send a flyer over there to disable or destroy any research vessel they send.”

At this, the man’s eyes flashed with interest. “Do that, and you reveal our weapon. The outcasts do not realize a traitor lives among them. Any action taken against their research operations will cause suspicion. For what you hope to gain, it is not worth the risk. When the terraforming operation is complete, we will be able to eradicate the exiles easily.”

Nessel did not look convinced. She was a woman who did not like questions. She did not know what would become of the discovery, but she did know nothing would change if she prevented further research.

“I’m going to send a flyer anyway. I think you’re wrong about this one,” she said, trying to make her voice playful. She was frankly scared of this man who had become both a legend and a curse. Would he grow angry at the comment?

The man simply shrugged. “Others have said so in the past. But they have ignored my advice at their peril. Send your flyer, then. I shall arrange to minimize the damage to our intelligence-gathering operation.” He stood up, slowly, and shuffled toward the Commissar-General’s door without asking for permission to depart.

Nessel watched him make his slow, painful way to her door. He did not use a cane. When he had opened the door and started through the jamb, Nessel said softly, “Thank you for your advice.”

Without turning, he growled, “I will not live to see the project completed. But I do not wish to die until I see all threats to its fruition eliminated. I have shepherded this colony to this crucial point for almost forty years. Do not ignore my advice lightly.”

Nessel swallowed and said, “I won’t, Mr. Tann.”

Carll Tann grunted and left the room.

Sirra knew that if one of the adults looked in her direction for long enough, she would be in serious trouble. Grandonly Yallia would be very angry with her, and the thought was nearly enough to make Sirra abort her mission. But something was afoot, and Sirra wanted to know what it was. She could see the dim figures of the Originals through the sliver-thin crack in the door she had opened with extraordinary care. She stood with the absolute silence only an eavesdropping child can achieve and listened to the adults argue in the “grown-ups’ room,” as her onlymother called it.

“There’s nothing you can do on the ship, but there’s more than enough for you to do here,” Lawson was saying.

“That’s nonsense,” Sirra heard Yallia reply. “I’m a geneticist, one of the best in the Family. I say that without boasting.” Sirra was proud of her Grandonly’s matter-of-fact manner, even if she was not sure what a geneticist was. “Besides, one of us should be out there to make any kind of instant decision those two young eggheads will need. I might as well go.”

“I concur, Madam Prime.” This from Kahlman. Sirra had never liked him. He was always cordial to her, as he was to everyone, but there seemed to be no warmth to the man. Sirra felt a shiver run down her spine, which she attributed to the clandestine nature of her mission. “While I might dispute the claim that your scientific knowledge is quite the incentive you are suggesting—” A ripple of laughter sounded in the room and Sirra frowned. She hadn’t heard a joke—why were they laughing? Maybe Grandonly made a funny face or something, she concluded.

Kahlman was saying, “…and I would submit that any of the Originals would serve as on-the-spot authority, I do think you are strong in both the prerequisites.”

“Jill of all trades, mistress of none, Franc?” Yallia said.

“I wouldn’t say that, Madam Prime.” Sirra could imagine Mr. Kahlman smiling that little smile of his.

“This is madness,” Lawson broke in again. “Holo representation could easily—”

“We’ve been through that, Law. Holos can break up, especially from such a distance in a rickety research skiff. And the Domers may intercept the transmission. We want to keep this a secret for as long as we can.”

Sirra squirmed in delight. She had understood that, at least—a secret! And she was listening!

She heard someone get up and momentarily froze. She listened intently to hear if the footsteps were approaching the door. After a breathless interval, she decided that someone was pacing around in the room.

“Why are you so worried, Law?” Yallia asked softly.

“Something could happen.”

“Like what? A tsunami?”

Sirra didn’t know what a tsunami was, but it must have been something funny because again there was the ripple of laughter in the room.

Yallia continued. “There’s nothing out there that’s dangerous. As for what you said earlier about there being plenty for me to do here—” Sirra heard bitterness enter her Grandonly’s voice. Bitterness and that same anger that she heard from time to time. Sirra felt that she was on the edge of understanding why her Grandonly hated the Domes so much, if only she could talk to her Grandonly about it.