Apes and Angels Page 29
Kosoff said, “You’re asking us to believe the aliens’ tale of the Sky Masters?”
“I’m asking you to accept the evidence that we’ve uncovered. A cataclysm took place here some hundred thousand Earth years ago, maybe a bit more. The entire planetary system was disrupted. A whole civilization on planet Gamma was smashed back to the Stone Age, and beasts from planet Beta were created and given the means to travel to Gamma for the purpose of keeping the Gammans from climbing back to civilization.”
Kosoff asked, “And you believe this destruction was caused by some sort of conflict, a war with another alien race? An interstellar war?” The disbelief in his voice was palpable.
Before Brad could reply, Abbott suggested, “The Sky Masters may be an invention of the Gammans, an explanation they created to make sense of their history.”
Littlejohn spoke up. “Brad, do you actually believe that this planetary system was almost destroyed in an interstellar war?”
“That’s a huge conclusion to swallow,” Kosoff said, shaking his head.
With a touch of his thumb on the projector control unit he held, Brad put up a view of the nanodevices built into the eggshell spacecraft from Beta. “Somebody built those craft. Somebody created those nanomachine controls. Somebody created those six-legged cats and set them on the Gammans every time the two planets approached each other. Somebody with a technology significantly beyond our own.”
Silence along the length of the conference table. Not even Kosoff had anything to say.
“All the available facts point to that conclusion,” Brad insisted. “We’re not dealing with mythology here.”
BOOK FIVE
A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”
—Stephen Crane
TWO YEARS LATER
Brad walked through the new village, empty buildings waiting for the birth of the new generation of Gammans growing beneath the ground in the farm fields.
Mnnx walked beside him, looking slightly ludicrous in one of the stiff cloth coveralls that the Gammans were weaving for themselves. It hung past his knees, and Mnnx also wore a Gamman version of a ski mask, with his two bulbous eyes bulging out on either side of his head. His hooflike feet were still bare, although 3-D printers aboard the starship were already turning out boots for the Gammans.
The sky above was gray, leaden. A light snow was drifting down from the clouds.
“Winter is coming,” said Mnnx unnecessarily.
Brad nodded. He wore a light parka, no hat.
“Yes,” he agreed. “But you’ll be ready for it. You’ll live through the winter and welcome the new Folk when they rise from the ground.”
“If the Sky Masters permit us.”
Brad turned and started back toward the original village. Mnnx kept pace beside him.
“Are the Sky Masters real?” Brad asked.
“You saw the city,” Mnnx replied. “You saw how it was destroyed.”
“Yes, I know, but if they wanted to wipe you out, why didn’t they destroy your village too, and the other villages? Why did they let you live?”
“They send the monsters from Beta to kill us.”
“But not the new generation growing in the ground. Not the Rememberers in each village. Why let them live?”
“No one knows. Perhaps they will return one day and reveal their purposes to us.”
“Perhaps not.”
Mnnx fell silent as they walked along the empty street. At last he said, “Brrd, I think that perhaps you have been sent to save us from the Sky Masters.”
“I want you to live,” Brad said. “I want you to get through the winter and begin to build new lives for yourselves.”
Casting an uneasy eye at the gray sky above them, Mnnx said, “That will surely bring the Sky Masters to punish us for disobeying their wishes.”
“No,” Brad contradicted. “You will live, and grow, and prosper. And we will help you. My people are producing food for you so you can live through the winter, and—”
“But one day you will leave us.”
Reluctantly, Brad admitted, “Yes.”
“Before the winter fully sets in.”
“Yes.”
“After you go, the Sky Masters will return and kill us all. They will leave none of us alive, because we disobeyed them.”
Brad stared at this alien creature whom he had come to regard as his friend. He’s terrified, Brad thought. He does what we tell him to, but he’s terrified that once we leave they’ll all be killed by the so-called Sky Masters.
“More of my kind will arrive here after we have gone,” Brad said. Then he stretched the truth by adding, “They will protect you against the Sky Masters.”
Mnnx said nothing.
* * *
Lnng obviously wasn’t as frightened as Mnnx. “I believe Brrd,” he said that evening as the Gammans gathered inside their homes for their evening meal.
Brad sat among a half-dozen of the aliens, between Mnnx and Lnng, staring into the warming blaze in the fireplace that the humans had shown the Gammans how to build. The flickering flames were hypnotic, Brad felt. There’s an ancient bond, he thought, between humans and their fires. A link that allowed us to survive the Ice Age, back on Earth. It’s bred into our genes: fire, the energy source that ensured our survival in the time of cold. The energy source that started our climb to the stars.
Lnng’s thoughts were much more practical. Pointing at the fireplace, he said, “The food you have given us will allow us to live through the winter. We can welcome the new Folk when they rise from the ground, teach them, help them to become like us.”
Mnnx’s head drooped despondently. “If the Sky Masters allow it.”
“The Sky Masters have gone away,” Lnng said. “Why should they return here?”
“To punish us.”
“No,” said Lnng. “I think they have sent Brrd and his friends to help us. I think the Sky Masters want us to live, not die.”
Brad marveled at his optimism. Where Mnnx sees death, Lnng sees life, he thought.
“Tell us the truth, Brrd,” Lnng urged. “The Sky Masters have sent you, haven’t they?”
With a shake of his head, Brad replied, “No, we came here to help you. We knew nothing of the Sky Masters until you told us of them.”
Lnng stared at Brad for a silent moment, then jumped to his feet and shouted, “Sky Masters! Wherever you are! We live and we will keep on living, thanks to Brrd and his people’s help. If you have sent them, thanks be to you. If you have not, then we can live without you.”
Mnnx and the other Gammans sat in stunned silence. Even Brad was taken aback by Lnng’s declaration. He’s committing blasphemy, Brad thought. Then he realized that blasphemy is often the first step up from ignorance.
Instead of outrage, Mnnx merely said, “Sit down, Lnng, and eat your dinner. The Sky Masters will answer you in their own time.”
Brad let out a breath. A very gentle response to blasphemy, he told himself. But then, the Gammans are a very gentle people.
He sat in silence and tried not to show the shiver of revulsion he felt as the Gammans shoveled their food into the mouths in their abdomens. At last he slowly climbed to his feet, surprised that he really didn’t want to go.
I think of them as my friends, he realized. Despite our differences, I really care about them.
“I must return to my own village now,” he said to Mnnx.
The Gamman got up beside him. “You will come back tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course.”
Brad got as far as the door before Lnng called, “If you meet any Sky Masters out in the night, tell them we would like to see them.”
Gamman faces are not built to express emotions, but Brad thought he felt resentment and something close to anger radiating from Mnnx.
QUOTING SCRIPTURE
“Another damned meeting,” Brad grumbled as they stepped through the shuttle’s air lock hatch and into the starship’s receiving bay.
Compared to their quarters down on the planet, even Odysseus’s receiving bay was posh. Carpeted floor, floor-to-ceiling display screens, automated sensor arches that swiftly checked their physical conditions as they passed through them. Quiet luxury, Brad thought, every step of the way.
“You are cleared for entry,” said Emcee’s warm voice, emanating from the speaker grille built into the sensor arch. “Welcome back.”
Brad thought this trip to the starship was going to be pretty much a waste of time, but he answered with, “It’s good to be back, Emcee.”
Felicia did the same.
* * *
“The reason for this meeting,” Kosoff said, “is to make a final decision about the octopods of planet Alpha.”
Brad, Felicia, Olav Pedersen, and Ursula Steiner sat in Kosoff’s office, in the comfortable faux leather chairs arranged before his desk. Emcee’s seated image filled the holographic display on the office’s side wall.
Pedersen said, “It’s quite clear: Alpha is orbiting so close to Mithra that its ocean will boil away eventually—unless we provide some protection for the planet.”
“And how long is eventually?” Kosoff asked.
Brad knew the professor’s question was strictly for the recording being made of the meeting.
As expected, Pedersen answered, “On the order of a million years, perhaps a bit less.” With a slight shake of his head he added, “A long time by human standards, of course, but an eyeblink in the course of a planet’s lifetime.”
Kosoff nodded. “The energy screen generators that will shield the planet from the death wave can also protect it from Mithra’s heat.”
Emcee nodded in acknowledgment. “The energy screen can be tuned to absorb some of the star’s incoming radiation.”
“Like a sun shield,” Kosoff said.
Emcee replied, “A partial sun shield.”
Kosoff turned to Felicia. “I was a bit surprised to find that you are the leading expert on the octopods, Dr. Portman.”
With a self-effacing dip of her chin, Felicia replied, “That’s because all the other biologists have been busy working on the Gammans and their planetary biosphere.”
Brad noticed that Pedersen looked uncomfortable with the idea that Felicia was almost on an equal rank with himself. Steiner, cool as usual, said nothing. But her knowing little smile told Brad that she found the situation amusing.
Kosoff asked Felicia, “So how would the octopods react to our sinking a half-dozen generators into their ocean?”
With a tiny shrug, she replied, “They probably wouldn’t react at all. The problem with the octopods is that they are intelligent enough to realize that their habitat is shrinking—their ocean is warming noticeably—but they have no way of changing things. They are accepting their fate because they can’t do anything to change it.”
“They have no technology.”
“None.”
Steiner spoke up. “They seemed quite curious about the sensor pods when we first put them into the sea to study them. But when the pods didn’t react to their questions, or even to their touching them with their tentacles, they just ignored the pods and went about their business as if they weren’t there.”
Unconsciously stroking his beard, Kosoff said, “They decided that the pods were neither food nor danger, so they could be safely ignored.”
“That’s about the size of it,” Steiner replied.
Straightening up in his chair, Kosoff said in a louder, firmer voice, “So we can drop the generators into their ocean without harming them.”
“I believe so,” said Steiner.
Focusing on Felicia, Kosoff asked, “Do you agree?”
She hesitated a heartbeat, then answered, “The only question in my mind is whether the energy that the generators emit might harm them in any way.”
“Impossible,” Kosoff said flatly. “The generators have been thoroughly tested on Earth. They produce no harmful biological effects.”
“On human cells,” Felicia pointed out. “We don’t really know that much about the octopods’ biology.”
“I wanted to obtain a few specimens for study,” Steiner pointed out. “For dissection and thorough examination.”
“And we decided against it,” said Kosoff. “Maybe we should review that decision.”
“Wait,” Brad objected. “Why do we have to sink the generators into Alpha’s ocean? Why not put them in orbit around the planet? Then there’s no question of biological interactions.”
Kosoff’s brows knit, but he said, “I suppose that’s a possibility.”
“It would be safer,” Felicia said.
“And there’d be no question of the ocean absorbing some of the generators’ energy output,” Brad pointed out.
Steiner protested, “But we would miss the chance to study how the energy generators affect the alien biology.”
Pedersen started to speak, thought better of it, and clamped his lips shut.
“I agree with you, Ursula,” said Kosoff. “It seems a shame to waste such an opportunity.”
Brad disagreed. “Look. Are we here to do some esoteric biology experiments or to save an alien species from extinction?”
“If you put it that way…”
“That’s the way it is,” Brad insisted. “We’re dealing with a life-or-death situation for those octopods. They may not have the means to save themselves from extinction but we do! We have a responsibility to protect them as well as we can.”
“Shall we vote on it?” Kosoff asked.
“No,” said Brad. “Let’s review the mission protocols first.”
Kosoff gaped at him. “The mission protocols? You want to refer to the mission protocols?”
With a tight grin, Brad said, “Yes.”
Kosoff let out a theatrical sigh. “All right. Emcee, what do the protocols have to say about this?”
Without a nanosecond’s hesitation, the master computer’s avatar replied, “Species survival is this mission’s number-one priority. All other goals are secondary, including scientific investigations of alien biology.” Its image looking very humanly apologetic, Emcee added, “Sorry, Dr. Steiner.”
Steiner’s brows knit, but she said with something approaching good grace, “We must follow the protocols, of course.”
Kosoff glared across his desk at Brad. “The devil can quote scripture when it suits his purpose.”
Very seriously, Brad replied, “When it suits the mission protocols.”
FIGHTING MONSTERS
Thinking the meeting was over, Brad started to get up from his chair.
“Wait,” said Kosoff, motioning for Brad to sit down again. “There’s something else I want to discuss.”
Brad dropped back into the chair, thinking, More talk. More time wasted.
“What is it?” Pedersen asked.
“Those cats on Beta. How can we prevent them from attacking the Gammans the next time the two planets approach each other?”
Brad immediately replied, “We send a team to Beta and wipe out the monsters, once and for all.”
“You can’t do that!” Steiner objected. “They’re an alien life form, just as much as the octopods and the Gammans. We can’t destroy them.”
“Why not?” Brad demanded. “The only reason they exist is to kill the Gammans. Get rid of them. Now, while they’re hibernating.”
“They are not hibernating,” Steiner said. “From what the surveillance satellites report, the few cats still alive on Beta are breeding, laying their eggs.”
“So that they can kill the Gammans when the two planets come close again.”
A little less certainly, Steiner replied, “Yes, I suppose so.”
Felicia said, “We really don’t know much about their life
cycle.”
“We should study them more closely,” said Steiner.
Kosoff nodded agreement. “We have two years remaining before we have to return to Earth. How much can we learn in that time?”
“More than we know now,” Felicia said.
“If we could get a couple of specimens to dissect,” Steiner mused, “we could learn a lot about their biology.”
“You’re missing the point,” said Brad. “Those monsters were created to kill the Gammans, to keep the Gammans in their Stone Age stage of development, to prevent them from advancing back to their former level of civilization.”
Kosoff waved a dismissive hand. “That’s the Gammans’ mythology. There’s no evidence that it’s based on fact.”
“No evidence?” Brad snapped. “What about those spacecraft the cats use to travel from Beta to Gamma? Completely automated, nanotechnology that we haven’t achieved yet. The cats didn’t create those devices, someone else did.”
“The so-called Sky Masters,” Pedersen said, almost sneering.
“Mythology,” said Kosoff. “Figments of the Gammans’ imagination.”
Felicia added, “The cats seem to be programmed to die after a few days on Gamma.”
“After they’ve finished killing the Gammans,” said Brad. “There’s a purpose to their existence. If we want the Gammans to survive, we’ve got to put an end to those beasts.”
Pedersen suggested, “Perhaps we can find a way to prevent them from traveling from Beta to Gamma.”
“How?” Brad demanded.
The planetologist shrugged. “I’m not an engineer…”
Kosoff turned to the holotank. “Emcee, is there a way to prevent the cats from getting to Gamma?”
The master computer’s avatar sat there smiling amiably for several heartbeats—an eternity for the femtosecond reactions of the computer. At last Emcee said, “That is a question that should be forwarded to the World Council, on Earth.”
“Kill them all,” Brad insisted. “Now, while we have the chance. They only exist to kill the Gammans. They’re instruments of genocide.”
Kosoff rumbled, “An eye for an eye, is that what you want?”
Steiner almost smiled. “Who’s quoting scripture now?”