Vale of Stars (46 page)

“Thanks.”

Khadre smiled. “I remember you, thirty-six years ago, reaching your hand in the water to talk to the vix after the attack.” Her eyes sparkled. “I knew you would one day make something of yourself with the vix.”

Sirra smiled back, but her memory was tainted with Viktur Ljarbazz, lying in a bloody heap on the heaving deck.

Khadre nodded slightly, as if in acknowledgement of the man’s memory, and switched off.

Khadre was still staring the spot where Sirra’s holo had stood moments before when Kiv entered the cramped comm suite. “What’s up?”

Khadre did not answer immediately. She swiveled her head to face him, her mind still on the conversation. “What?”

Kiv snorted. “You been hypnotized?”

Khadre slowly focused on her son. “Hm? Oh, no. I just….” She hesitated again.

Kiv looked suspicious. His voice no longer tinged with humor, he said, “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happening with the vix.”

“What is?”

Khadre drew a breath and told him of Sirra’s encounter, leaving out most of the speculation the two women had done minutes earlier.

“We have to stop research. Immediately,” Kiv said when she had finished.

Khadre stared at him. “What?”

“The vix have attacked one of us.”

“But we don’t know why.”

Kiv shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Any human who goes down there is subject to the same risks. I can’t allow any of us to be in that kind of danger.”

Khadre got up and approached her son. “Kiv, listen. We are at a crucial moment in our research. If we stop now—”

“You scientists are always at a crucial moment of research. The vix aren’t going anywhere. I am ordering an immediate cessation of information-gathering. You yourself said that you have more data now than you know what to do with.”

“Kiv, you can’t stop us from researching.” As soon as she had said it, she knew it was precisely the wrong thing to say to her son. She saw his face harden and his shoulders square at her words.

“Yes, I can. These vix have all but declared war on us.”

“
What?
” Khadre’s eyes widened. “Son, you don’t know what you are saying.”

“No?” Kiv looked away and walked to the other side of the comm suite. He stared at the ground for a moment, then looked up again. “You have told me, many times, that the vix are intelligent. You’ve said that they are tool-making, problem-solving animals. I think they are smarter than you give them credit for. I think they are tired of being prodded by us and are now striking back.”

“Kiv—” Khadre shook her head and spread her hands wide.

“How can we be sure they don’t know about the terraforming process the Domers started one hundred and ten years ago?”

“That was abandoned thirty-four years ago. The vix have roughly the same generation cycle we do—thirty-four years is between two and three generations for them. Vix lifespan is a bit shorter than ours—barring accidents, vix tend to live about forty-two to forty-five years. There’d only be a very few vix who were even alive during the terraforming process, and only a tiny number of them who were old enough at that time to think purposefully.”

“Aren’t we still feeling the effects of the project now? Surely, the planet hasn’t returned to its original state in just thirty-four years.”

Khadre chafed. “No. And it never will, not entirely. But much of the damage has been reversed. The remains of the project really aren’t much of a factor in the day-to-day lives of modern native animals.”

“But as I understand, during its seventy-five year duration, it had quite a profound effect on the planet’s ecosystem. Isn’t that right? Whole species became extinct, and others were forced to change their behaviors in rather extreme ways. Why not the vix, too?”

“I’m sure they did, but they seem to have adapted to it.”

“But how do we know they don’t have some deep resentment for what we’ve done to them?”

“How could they possibly know what we have done? The concept of terraforming is many orders of magnitude beyond their comprehension.”

Kiv’s eyebrows went up in scorn. “Really? You told me they are skilled in agriculture. They modify their environment to suit them. What else is terraforming but a more extreme version of basic agriculture?”

Khadre opened her mouth to answer and stopped. Kiv was right.

He smirked at her. “Just because I spend most of my time behind a desk, Mother, doesn’t mean I’m not smart.”

“I never said—”

Kiv waved away her objection. “It doesn’t matter.” But Khadre could see the hurt in his eyes. Despite the nature of the conversation, Khadre found herself replaying various encounters she had had with her son over the years. Had she shown him less love than her other children? All her other offspring were in the sciences in some way, although none of them had yet made a name for themselves. Only Kiv, her sole male child, had gone into a different field. Had she been guilty of favoritism towards her science-minded daughters? She remembered the many times she had joked with him about his job as a paper-pusher as he had risen steadily through the political ranks. On the infrequent times she had called him, she had dismissed his work as mere bureaucratic fiddling. Eventually, Khadre realized, he had stopped calling her to tell her of another political victory or legislative triumph. And she had been only too happy to distance herself from him.

“Son, I—” After all the years, she could not find the words to excise twenty-plus years of injustice.

“I’m ordering an immediate interdiction on the vix. No human is to approach them for any reason. That goes for automated machinery as well. I don’t want to take the chance that they will capture some of our technology.” Kiv’s voice was iron. “Besides, we might need you scientists to help us against the Domers should it become necessary.”

Khadre ignored the last comment. “That’s a mistake, son. We won’t be able to learn what they want if we don’t research them more.”

“Right now, we know what they want. They want to kill us. I’m not going to give them the chance.”

“Kiv, listen. We’ll be careful. We’ll keep—”

“Domeit, Mother, you listen! I’m ordering an end to it! You’ll tell the leader of this expedition to cease work immediately and return to the mainland. Or would you prefer I do that?”

“I’d prefer to keep studying them.”

Kiv stared at her, and his mood changed abruptly. “Why can’t you listen to me? I am the leader of this colony. I am ordering you to stop work.” His words conveyed command, but his voice was almost a petulant whine.

“Are you telling me to stop because you are afraid of our safety, or are you just trying to get back at me for all the years I ignored you?”

Kiv swallowed before answering. When he did, Khadre could hear the effort he was exerting to keep his voice even. “You will cease research on the vix, effective immediately. I am declaring this an emergency, where I have broad disciplinary powers. If need be, you will be impressed into military service where you will assist in naval technologies should they become necessary to put down Dome rebellion. If you do not follow my orders, I will have you placed under arrest.” His voice faltered on the final words, but he kept is eyes locked on hers.

Khadre thought to fight him—he did not have any police with him, and it would be quite a while before he could summon anyone to enforce his order. In the meantime, she and the crew of the research vessel could conduct valuable research on the vix. She might also be able to change Kiv’s mind while he waited for police to arrive.

But she knew that that would hurt him more than anything else she could do. To disobey him now would ruin whatever chance she stood of correcting the damage of the past.

If, indeed, she could correct it at all.

Khadre reluctantly climbed the short ladder that led out of the comm suite and headed for the bridge.

Kiv did not speak to his mother during the trip back to shore. Had he bothered to analyze his own behavior, he might have found himself irrational, selfish, even childish. Questions hovered at the edge of his conscious mind—why had he truly suspended research on the vix? Surely the researchers could take precautions, studying the vix from remote locations or with robot submersibles. Had he simply wanted to take away something his mother found dear: more dear than she found him?

Could he truly be jealous of the vix?

He would not think that thought. He was an elder statesman, the leader of a million colonists on a world orbiting an alien star. He was more than just his mother’s child.

His mind sought for a way out of the loop it threatened to lose itself in, and it turned to the Tannites. The small but troublesome faction had been unusually active lately—there had ben three near-violent demonstrations (in the Dome, of course) and an unusually high number of threats. And his agents among the Tannites had been warning that there were indications that there was a much larger, move radical movement keeping itself hidden from the Family.

What did they want? At every step, it seemed, the Family offered its hand in welcome and the Tannites spat on it.

He had been approaching the problem from the wrong angle. The answer did not lie in integration, but in segregation. That was what the Tannites truly wanted. Why should he force them to live amongst people they hated? The planet was certainly large enough for multiple groups and points of view. What was wrong with the Tannites forming their own state and governing themselves? And if in future there were problems with the other factions, well, those would be solved by later administrators. Kiv would solve the problem of the Tannites now. If that meant armed conflict to ensure the safety of the Family, so be it.

*   *   *

Iede started when the door to Aywon’s chambers irised open. It was, of course, Aywon himself. Iede tried to stand up in respect, found that she could not orient herself properly in the zero-g environment, and began a lazy cartwheel spin towards the window.

Aywon swam to her and gently righted her with a bony arm. “Steady. Small movements in zero-g.”

Iede fought off shame at her behavior and mumbled, “I suppose I will have to learn how to operate in zero-g.”

“No, you won’t. That’s what I’ve come back to tell you. I’ve found a way you can get back to the planet.”

Iede stared at him. She did not fully understand her own emotions—they were a mirror image of her feelings when she had learned she would be staying on board Ship for the rest of her life: a combination of joy and regret. To her own embarrassment, she found a hard lump in her stomach had dissolved at the thought of returning to the ground.

“It won’t be easy, though. You’ll have to learn how to pilot one of our lifeboats and land it on the ground. I can teach you.”

“My Lord….”

“I’ve asked you not to call me that.”

“I will do as You say.”

“But you want to say something, don’t you? Well, go ahead. And keep the awe out of your voice.”

“I do not deserve all that has happened to me. You have shown me so much already and I cannot ask for more. Yet….” Despite his encouraging face, she could not go on. What right did she have to ask the gods for anything?

“You want to stay for a bit. Well, learning how to pilot the lifeboat will take some time, and I suppose there’s no harm in waiting a few days so I can better set up the caper. But when I’m ready, you’ll leave. You can’t stay here.”

“As you will it, Lord. I have much to teach my parishioners about all of this. When I return, I hope I can impart some of your wisdom to my people.” She closed her eyes for a few moments, thinking of the grand new evolution her religion would take.

When she opened her eyes, she found Aywon frowning at her.

“Have I displeased you?” Iede asked timorously.

“Maybe you’re right. You’re not ready to go back just yet.”

Iede looked at him, wondering what she had done wrong.

Aywon sighed and said, “You’ve still got a lot to learn. Or unlearn.” He looked out the window for a moment, then turned back to her. “Earlier, in the Groundseer hub, you were told to abandon your religion. When you return to the surface, that’s what you will do.”

“My Lord!” The exclamation was wrenched from her.

Aywon continued implacably. “There is no greater threat to the survival and well-being of the colony than your religion. If you have any love for your fellow colonists, or owe any obedience to me, you’ll do as I say.”

Iede did not answer. To put the command on that kind of footing made it impossible for her to object, but at the same time, how could she just abandon her life’s work—and abandon the man who had made her life possible?

Aywon sighed and looked away, towards the window. “I realize I am using your reverence of me to order you into a course of action—don’t think I’m not uncomfortable at that. But I must have your word that you will begin dismantling this religion as soon as you go back.”

Iede did not answer: how could she? She was trapped in a paradox she had never dreamt of—her gods were commanding her to cease her worship of them.

Aywon continued. “You have a second job to do—almost as important as the first. You must tell the others of the ruins.”

Iede blinked, nonplused. She had almost forgotten about the ruins in her awe at her surroundings. While the discovery was interesting, how could it compare with the experience of being in Ship? But her god commanded her, so the ruins must be very important.

“I will.” She bit off the honorific ‘my Lord’ with conscious effort.

Aywon seemed to sense that she did not understand the importance of the ruins. “We in Ship have always been concerned with threats to the mission from the outside. During the voyage, that meant cosmic debris and other astronautical dangers. Now that the colony is set up, our function has largely been to observe. But the ruins represent another potential outside threat—I feel it is our duty to alert you to it and help you take action.”

“But you are alone in this?” Iede ventured, remembering the argument in the Groundseer hub.

“Yes. I think we have been observing for so long we have forgotten to act. We see so much, Iede. Much of what you colonists do on the surface is laudable, but there is so much injustice, too. To float up here and simply watch….” He looked out the window again, staring down at the green-tinged planet. “Once before, our distant ancestors watched without taking action. I have studied our history. Never again.”