Do you love me?
I love you, Momma Gia.
That was how Emma had first confirmed her affectionate nature via secret-talk. Now, even after a further two years of intensive education and training, she remained the likeable and lively individual she had always been, although the physical transformation was startling. From a gangling, awkward youngster whose double-jointed limbs seemed designed to tangle rather than be useful, Emma had matured into a sleek, gray-furred being with a grace and suppleness which made her mentors feel awkward. The fierce pug-nosed face and fanged grin would perhaps be disconcerting to anyone unfamiliar with the Silver People, but to the humans and Phuili who were her adopted parents, Emma was beautiful. Nevertheless, the young Silver and her four sisters and one brother had known their idyllic existance could not last forever, although the break—when it finally came—was sooner than expected.
Gia Mayland had always been Emma's special parent. Indeed, the two were so close that not even secret-talk was necessary to reveal to Emma that Gia was deeply troubled. More ominous, was the fact Gia was not wearing the glove. That piece of equipment, through which Gia could secret-talk via the natural sensors on Emma's hands, was not even visible. It was as if the human did not want her meanings distorted by emotion.
"Emma dear, I have to ask the question I have not asked since I first told you about your people. What is your reaction to what the Silver People intend to do in the universe?"
Puzzled, Emma stared at the slim, dark haired woman. She understood the I question and at the same time did not I understand it. It made as much sense as being asked to identify the color of the blue sky. "It is wrong to destroy life. It is wrong even to want to destroy life." She meant exactly what she said. But she wished Gia wore the glove. Only with secret-talk could Emma communicate the intensity of her abhorrence.
The woman sighed. After twelve years with the project, she felt she knew the youngsters as much as any mother would her own children. Nevertheless, the six were alien, and despite her hopes Gia was aware there would always be unknowns.
"Emma, from the moment we determined the pregnancy of your natural mother, there was no doubt in our minds that her offspring would be brought up under the principle of absolute honesty. As soon as the six of you were old enough to understand, you were all told about the Silver People's monomaniacal determination to eliminate every form of life other than their own. It is why we destroyed their home world, and it is why we must do something about the ships they seeded into space before their sun was triggered into nova. We found one of those ships, Emma, and tried to find a way to neutralize its threat without destroying its crew. Well, you know what happened. We were forced to destroy that ship and the thousands of sentients aboard. And when it was over, all we had to show for the ghastly experience was one, nearly dead pregnant female who gave birth to you and your brother and sisters before she died. It is a terribly unhappy story Emma which, with your help, may yet have a happier ending."
The young Silver grasped both of Gia Mayland's hands. Because the human was not wearing the glove, there was no silent communication. But the warmth and mutual pressing of fingers was a comfort. "Happier? How, Momma, how?"
"Well to start with, we have found another ship of the Silver People."
"You have? Where? When? How can I help?"
Gia said sadly, "You start by becoming grown-up."
It was almost claustrophobic but not quite. In a tiny glass-ended chamber recessed into the wall of a huge cavern at the heart of the ship, Emma waited for the signal. Beyond the transparency, thousands more of the life-suspension units studded the walls of the cavern. Each cramped cavity contained a stasis-preserved being superficially like Emma, but whose dormant brain cells contained instructions to destroy. Not to preserve.
Even with the combination of human ingenuity and Phuili science, it had been a herculean task to phase-shift the gigantic mass of the ship to a new destination. But when the radiation from the approaching sun triggered the sequences which would begin to rouse the sleepers, hopefully none of them would suspect the hoax which, in the name of sanity, had been perpetrated. Neither, it was also hoped, would they detect the presence of aliens in the hidden control center at one end of the converted asteroid.
"Emma, are you alright?" As clear as if voice-spoken, the words impressed into Emma's thoughts.
Emma fingered the implant at the side of her neck. "Yes, Momma Gia. But I am lonely."
"Until this thing is over, we will always be here. Me, Jase, your brother Silskin, David—"
"—iss to be accepted you lonely," interjected Davakinapwottapellazanzis. Preferably "David" to those without benefit of the dexterous Phuili tongue, he was Emma's second favorite parent. Possessing a sad-eyed canine head atop a squat and powerful body, a contrast in temperament as well as physical appearance to the humans he was associated with, the old Phuili had nevertheless charmed the six young Silvers almost from the moment they became aware of the beings of two other races who shared their world. David continued, "But you not old, so can accept pwoblems better zan older. And if mission succeed, you have Silver fwiends you not have before."
Silver friends. It was the prize at the end of the rainbow for Emma, and abruptly a fierce determination replaced her fear. I will do it, she told herself. I will do it!
And then another voice, warm and familiar. "Hand-touch," said Silskin encouragingly.
"Hand-touch," Emma replied, regretting her brother's unfortunate choice of words. She still was not adjusted to the nerve blocks which had eliminated all feeling in the sensitive palms of her hands. Hand-to-hand secret talk was an extra voice and ear for a Silver, and to lose it was analagous to becoming a partial deaf-mute. But because that unique form of communication allowed no deception, or even half truths designed to deceive, Emma's temporary diminishment was the only way to preserve her undercover role amid the thousands of wild ones aboard the drifting ship.
"Seven minutes," Jase Kurber announced. Kurber was one half of a relationship he and Momma Gia called "marriage." He was likeable enough, although Emma envied the closeness apparent between the two humans. "Remember Emma, you must act as if it is a complete mystery to you why Control reactivated a lower priority person such as yourself."
"Yes, Poppa Jase." Emma stretched as much as she could within her claustrophobic confines and tried not to stare too hard at the ruby indicator above her head. Somewhere on the asteroid-ship's surface a detector had already locked on to the nearing star and was waiting for penetration into its circum-solar life-zone before generating the signal which would begin to reactivate up to a dozen of the sleepers. Based on past experience, the number of reactivations could be as low as two, although analysis of the control sequences had raised the possibility that no two Silvers' ships were alike either in physical layout or programing—adding an uncomfortable element of uncertainty to each encounter.
The indicator began to blink; once, twice, and then urgently. It was a simple warning signal, telling Emma that far more involved processes than a blinking light were proceeding in other chambers. She cracked open the lid, holding it back against spring pressure until she could see which of the other chambers were activating.
At first she saw nothing, although the slightest flicker of light would be a beacon in the stygian darkness of the cavern. She opened the lid a little further and wriggled her body outward so she could peer over the rim of her chamber. Almost instantly she saw it; a spark only meters above her head. There was another glimmer, to the right and dimmed by distance. And then, starting from a point at the top of the cavern and cascading down its sides like an incandescent flood, the main lighting system waxed to full brilliance within seconds; revealing thousands of glass-lidded stasis chambers glittering like huge jewels set in the rock.
From the chamber above Emma's, a lithe figure floated free, swiveled and grasped a handhold. Like a butterfly resting after emerging from its chrysalis, Emma thought, although the delicate winged creatures she knew only from books and instructional tapes hardly resembled the bedraggled humanoid clinging to the wall.
"Jihevva!" the Silver said suddenly, and with a powerful thrust of its long legs launched itself upward towards where another Silver was just emerging. Still only half way out of its chamber, the second Silver shouted something and pointed across the cavern to where two other Silvers were poised near their open chambers. More shouts were exchanged, until the first two Silvers leaped across the huge space, turned in flight and landed neatly adjacent to the others.
Emma said excitedly, "There are four! They have rendezvoused across the cavern from me."
"Then it is time to show yourself," Gia Mayland instructed from the concealed room less than two hundred meters away. The human added, with a concern which warmed Emma's heart. "But be careful, dear. Please."
"Yes, Momma." Emma let go the lid of her chamber, and as it swung wide she shouted, "Hello!"
The reaction was silence, as the four swung about and stared in her direction. Although Emma's training was alien, the physical instincts she had been born with were sound, and she launched herself across the cavern and alighted close to them with unerring ease. "Hello," she repeated, meeting their puzzled faces.
Finally one spoke. "Who are you? Control was not programed to revive any other."
"I am Berein," Emma replied, using a name her mentors had extracted from the records of her mother's ship. She shrugged. "I do not know why I was chosen. I am only a Priority Eighteen."
"An Eighteen?" One of the Silvers reached out and grasped Emma's hand. The large eyes widened with astonishment. "No wonder. You are a lesser!"
They clustered around Emma, touching and stroking her. They were friendly, sympathetic, showing a positive side of the Silver character completely at variance with their attitude to other life forms. "Obviously Control erred," said the one who had attempted secret-talk with Emma. She pointed at herself and then at the others. "I am Gelhon and this is my mate Bewokul. That is Jihevva and his mate Halranen. But now—" Gelhon turned towards a large opening in the upper part of the cavern. "—our immediate purpose must be to find out why we are here."
As if with one thought, the revived Silvers floated up to the opening. Emma followed meekly behind. The opening was the inner end of a tunnel which drove arrow-straight to the asteroid's surface, but half way along Gelhon turned aside and led them through an armored portal which opened automatically at their approach. Beyond, was a large room crammed with panels and indicators. Gelhon stopped part way into the room and said loudly, "Control?"
CONTROL, acknowledged the computer. Containing neither gender nor expression, its cold machine voice made Emma's fur crawl.
"State reason for activation of life units."
VEHICLE APPROACHING TARGET SYSTEM. INDICATION OF LIFE BEARING PLANET IN INNER ZONE.
There was a hiss of indrawn breath. "State degree of infestation," Gelhon ordered.
DATA INSUFFICIENT.
Ignoring Emma, the four Silvers grasped hands and for several seconds stood in silent communication. It was the first time in her life Emma felt truly left out, and in desperation she called, "Momma Gia!"
"Emma, what is the matter?"
"We are in Control. The others are using secret-talk."
Gia understood. "You knew that would happen. Have you any idea what they are discussing?"
"I only know the computer has told them about the life-world in this system."
"We heard that, and it was expected—or at least hoped for. Considering how difficult it was to reprogram that electronic juggernaut of theirs—"
Emma abruptly broke contact as the four released hands and Gelhon came to her. "Berein, we do not wish to be unkind but important decisions must be made. You heard Control. I hope you understand."
"Yes, Gelhon, I do understand. You will tell me what I cannot sense?"
"We have already decided to activate a full echelon. The Ark is not yet close enough to that world to know how much of its surface is contaminated, but we do know that a minimum of fifty scouts is necessary to sterilize even a small continent."
Emma sub-vocalized, "Momma, did you hear?"
"It is being recorded, Emma. Just remember the special place you hold as a 'lesser.' Normal Silvers look on those without the ability to secret-talk as some human cultures do their blind—as people compensated with a wisdom not held by the sighted. It is a delicate edge you tread my dear, so be very cautious what you say or do."
Part of Emma's training had given her the ability to communicate through her implant while outwardly carrying on a separate conversation or activity. It was an asset which gave her an objectivity she could apply to either side at will. This time she was applying that objectivity to what was going on around her, as the one called Jihevva approached a big panel at the end of the room. The panel was divided into an orange and blue section, each glowing with thousands of illuminated indicator buttons. Jihevva began pushing the buttons until twenty-five pairs of them were flashing orange and blue. He nodded with satisfaction. "We will wait for our brothers and sisters in the Instruction Hall."
That was a large, vaulted chamber which they accessed by following a smaller corridor paralleling the main tunnel. Although Emma was as familiar with the interior layout of the gigantic vessel as any of her crew, identification was another matter. She had to avoid the situation in which she would be expected to know the location of any place by its name. Emma communicated her unease to Gia, who replied warningly, "You must anticipate such traps. If necessary, feign illness or find an excuse for one of the others to accompany you. But never arouse suspicions by admitting ignorance."
It was sound advice, and Emma felt comforted by the fact that those who had always been closest to her were still—even in the literal sense—within reach. A little more relaxed now, yet conscious of her role as a Silver of lowly status, she remained silent and separate as her new acquaintances huddled together and communicated with a mixture of voice and secret-talk.
If Emma knew anything at all, it was the absolute certainty that the Silver People's dedication to the destruction of all life was an obscenity almost beyond belief. So why was it she felt strangely attracted to these mirror images of herself? Did it mean that even a lifetime's indoctrination cannot thin the call of the blood? Not according to Poppa David, she remembered, who had often remarked in his profound Phuili way that "a body is not more a person zan a house is who lives inside." Certainly Emma had never thought of her human and Phuili mentors as anything other than persons, even considering their obvious physical differences. On the other hand, was it possible that was an exception rather than the rule?
Prejudice, especially of the racial kind, was a subject not taught or even discussed in the small planetary colony devoted to the upbringing of six young Silvers. But the colony's data-base contained a reservoir of knowledge culled from the libraries of two planets, and over the years Emma's innate curiousity had caused her to accumulate an incredible clutter of unrelated facts—including a chilling item about one human response to race difficulties as expressed by the word "genocide." The human race had, of course, long since evolved out of that dark period of its past. But if Attila, Hitler, Karel Hewton or any other of those charismatic demagogues had had the ability to lead their followers into the galaxy, would they have been any less deadly than the Silver People? In fact, not even the history of the Phuili was entirely free of—
I am rationalizing! Emma shuddered as she realized the traitorous potential of her thoughts. Evil is evil from any source, and must be expunged. By peaceful means if possible. By the destruction of worlds if neccessary. Morality never involves an easy choice.
She started as a furry hand touched her shoulder. "They come," Gelhon said solemnly. Emma turned and looked to the entrance of the room as pair by pair they came in, twenty-four couples and a lone female. The female was in a state of crisis, twisting her head back and forth and moaning, "Kapakan is not! Kapakan is not!"
"She found her mate dead in his chamber," Gelhon whispered as the female was calmed by a sequence of reaching, soothing hands. "It must always be thus. The system is not perfect."
Emma touched her implant and switched to the symbolic shorthand she and her siblings had developed after they received the tiny units. The mentors knew of the shorthand and had, indeed, encouraged it. From the start, it had been realized that hand-to-hand secret-talk was merely the physical manifestation of something much more complex inherent in the Silver brain. The implants had proved the theory, giving the young Silvers the ability to communicate at lightning speed with each other, as well as at a normal rate with the mentors themselves.
Silskin!
Emma!
From this moment I cannot use time by talking normal with the olders. Tell them you are henceforth their channel to me.
I will tell them, dear sister.
It did not have the warmth and closeness of secret-talk of course, but at least it was an exclusive link with her brother. In any case, Momma Gia and Poppas David and Jase could still hear what her ears heard. They did not need Silskin for a running commentary.
One of the newcomers called for attention. He was a large male with grizzled fur and pale, glittering eyes. "I understand we are approaching a world which needs cleansing. But that we are not yet close enough to know if the Holy Task can be mounted with a minimum of effort."
Jihevva nodded. "That is correct, Master Delbroj."
"What is the status of this Ark and its crew?"
"As expected, we had meltdown of the main drive and the Ark is drifting. All other systems are functioning, including the stasis generators. Generally, I believe we are healthy, Master Delbroj."
"As the Giver wills," the old male said solemnly.
It was a strangely fatalistic reaction to the news that their ship had become an inert wanderer, captive to the same gravitational laws which governed the movements of planets and suns. But Emma was not surprised. The primitive one-surge drives of the Silvers ships had been barely sufficient to phase-shift them half a light-year towards their respective target suns, even as their own sun was triggered into nova by human-Phuili action. Nevertheless, although the Silvers were the ultimate xenophobes, they were not so mad as to permit their seeds to die a lonely death in the interstellar void. Crews could be preserved in stasis until the end of time if necessary, and the thousands of tiny space-scouts encrusted like barnacles on the surface of each ship, were themselves capable of ranging across light-weeks of distance. It was why the fifty or so giant carriers which were known to be spread across the surface of an expanding sphere a light-year across, were potentially a worse threat than that once posed by the billions of Silvers who had been alive until their planets were incinerated.
Unless . . .
Emma and her siblings were the alternative. They were Silvers, in blood and flesh and bone exactly as those on the ships. But their dedication was to life, not to its antithesis. If the wild Silvers were to be diverted from their deadly crusade, it could only be by others of their kind. It was a task many Phuili and humans were convinced was impossible—who were in fact resigned to the unpleasant necessity of having to vaporize each Silvers ship as soon as it was found. Nevertheless "Project Alchemy" was secretly established to raise and educate the six baby Silvers. The Project was a desperate attempt to expurgate some of the guilt resulting from the horror of the preemptive strike which had destroyed almost an entire race. It was also an incredible burden to place on six young shoulders, and no one knew it better than the six themselves. But they were proud. Above all, they were willing.
It had become quiet again in the Instruction Hall as most of the Silvers disappeared to perform tasks for which they had been trained before they entered stasis. A few, Emma suspected, would soon be suited up and out on the surface, beginning to prepare some of the deadly little scouts to receive cargoes of radioactive poison to be dumped on any target which had even a suspicion of reproductive life. Why are they like this? she wondered, in her innocence still doubting what her teachers had told her of the evolutionary history of the Silver People—of the legions of savage carnivores ranging from insectiles to thirty-meter monsters which the evolving sentients had had to conquer and destroy just to avoid being destroyed themselves. A genetic hate, Poppa Jase had called it.
Those who remained, including Jihevva, Delbroj, the grieving female who was called Felwon, and Emma herself, returned to Control. Felwon, learning of the other single female's "handicap" and realizing this was a fellow misfit, stayed close. If only she knew the whole truth, Emma communicated wryly to her brother.
Cultivate her, Poppa David came back through Silskin. That kind of depressed mental state makes her a possible convert.
It was a good suggestion, if a doubtful one. It had, after all, taken a lifetime's training to enable Emma to win over her own call of the blood. Nevertheless, it was one of the slim possibilities she could not ignore.
Emma's attention was jolted by a bellow from the one they called Master. "It is not possible, I tell you! The star pattern is all wrong!"
Jihevva had activated an optical pickup, and he and Delbroj were staring at a big display panel. Compensating circuits had blanked out the glare from the central sun enough to display the background stars. "In the Giver's name, I should know," the old Silver continued angrily. "I was the one who originally selected our first target, and I tell you this is not it!"
Looking doubtful, Jihevva turned away from the panel. "Control."
CONTROL, acknowledged the computer.
"State time since initial activation of the main drive system."
THIRTY NINE YEARS, FORTY THREE DECIMAL SIX DAYS.
Actually it was less than seventeen years. But the human and Phuili specialists had done their work well, re-programming Control as well as diverting the millions of tons of mass to another system. Unfortunately no one had anticipated the photographic recall of an elderly Silver.
"Are we on course to Prime Target?" Jihevva asked.
NEGATIVE.
There was a hiss of indrawn breath. Delbroj chuckled nastily. Emma waited. There was still a question to be asked.
"How far are we off course?"
MINUS DECIMAL ZERO ZERO THREE DEGREES.
"But that is nothing to . . ."
MAIN UNIT WILL PENETRATE CHROMOSPHERE OF TARGET STAR IN THREE ONE ZERO DECIMAL EIGHT DAYS.
"What?"
The die was cast. Emma expelled air in a long sigh, outwardly as horrified as the others, but reacting for an entirely different reason—the knowledge that the incentive was finally in place. She envied as she watched the others, including Felwon, agitatedly secret-talk. Her own palms tingled from the irritation of the nerve blocks. Now they know, she signaled.
That is obvious. From this moment your real work begins. But be careful of the old one. His attitude is unexpected.
So was Felwon's. Her expression calm, almost ethereal, she came to Emma and said dreamily, "It seems we are destined to burn. Even as billions of our brothers and sisters were burned by the sun under which we were all born. Do you not think that is poetic, Berein?" Felwon gently touched Emma's cheek. "You are a lesser. I lost my love. What can be better for us two than to welcome the end of our pain?"
"No!" Unceremoniously grabbing the female's arm, Jihevva swung her to face him. He was angry. "Three hundred and ten days is not tomorrow, and in any case our lives are not ours to waste with useless moaning about what cannot be changed! Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Jihevva." Like the switching of a circuit, Felwon abruptly withdrew from the edge of insanity and was contrite. She hung her head. "You are right. Therefore I am wrong. Our holy purpose must always come before our feelings."
Emma marveled at the discipline. To be able to order someone back from the mental brink and be obeyed was, she knew, something uncommon in both Phuili and human experience. Despite herself, she warmed at the knowledge she was also of this species.
Gia Mayland signaled, The female's concern with feelings is a good indication of where she is vulnerable. I suggest, dear, you take advantage of that vulnerability.
Yes Momma, Emma agreed, not liking the callousness of the suggestion but realizing the situation was one in which the end did truly justify any means.
Then it was David. Emma, it is through you the people on that ship are about to be presented with an impossible dilemma. We Phuili were also once faced with such a dilemma, and you know how we solved it. Use that knowledge.
I will, Poppa David, Emma replied, appreciating the old Phuili's reminder that the Silver People's obsessive hatred of other life forms shared, in many respects, the instinctive knowledge that the Phuili had of themselves as being the indisputable heirs of the universe. It was the coming of the humans, a race which in the ridiculously short span of a few centuries had advanced from the wheel to interstellar travel, which had threatened to shatter that prime tenet of Phuili belief and culture. But the simple device of acknowledging humans as "intelligent animals" had preserved the ancient equilibrium, albeit with the reluctant agreement of the humans themselves. It was a compromise, Poppa David had told his young pupils, in which the impossible had been reclassified as "improbable"—permitting a cooperation which, to the profound surprise of everyone, proved superior to the sum of its two parts.
Solidly anchored to the rock of his own conviction, Delbroj seemed unaffected by the computer's prediction of disaster. Into the embarrassed silence which followed Jihevva's denunciation of the mateless female, the Master repeated softly, "I still do not believe it. That is the wrong sky."
Johevva tensed, clearly on the verge of arguing the point. Instead, in a partial sidestep, he asked, "Are you willing to concede there is an infested planet out there?"
Delbroj hesitated. "Not absolutely." Then, grudgingly, "But I agree we must investigate further. Even if we are in the wrong system."
Emma wished the old one would go away. His stubbornness in the face of overwhelming evidence was beginning to worry her. She prayed the human-Phuili teams had not missed anything in their reprograming of the computer. Even the slightest evidence of external manipulation and consequently of other intelligent life, would be fatal to hopes of diverting this ship load of Silvers away from their savage purpose. It was fortunate that Delbroj's title "Master" had no official status other than signifying respect for someone of long experience. Jihevva, as a first-roused, was the one with authority.
Again, Jihevva spoke to the computer. "State degree of life-infestation on planet in inner zone."
The odds were that not enough time had elapsed since Gelhon had asked the same question. But the line between negative and positive is often narrow, and in this case the line had clearly been crossed. PRESENCE OF CHLOROPHYLL AND ATMOSPHERIC OXYGEN INDICATIVE OF VEGETATIVE LIFE FORMS, the computer replied. There was a pause. Then, as if with an electronic afterthought; APPROXIMATE NINE ZERO PERCENT PROBABILITY OF REPRODUCTIVE ANIMAL FORMS.
"Keduhunna!" Jihevva turned to Delbroj, and in unison the two males repeated the ancient call to exterminate. "Keduhunna!"
Timidly, "Berein" asked, "What happens, after?"
That startled them. Even Felwon seemed astonished. The Master, who had ignored Emma until now, stalked over and took one of her hands. He nodded. "As I was told. A lesser."
Emma steeled herself. "Master, does it serve our holy cause to die in the fires of a star? That is only one world. And we are enough to cleanse many."
Delbroj gently laid a large hand on her head. "One bridge at a time, little one. First we will do what we must."
"Then can we leave the ark before it burns and go down to that world? Perhaps stay there long enough to find another space rock we can make into a new ark? Control has said there is air for us to breathe."
The old Silver was patient. "Air is only part of what we need. We must also have food and water. I know that world has water, but after our work is done there, would you want to eat the rotting matter of once-life? For you, little one; for me and for all of us, far better a clean end in the solar fire." From sympathy, Delbroj's expression darkened to anger. "One world only. One world! If we were on the proper course, there could have been many on which to continue the Giver's work. Hundreds. Perhaps thousands!"
Despite her nervousness at the old one's continued persistance, Emma was satisfied. She had planted the seed which sooner or later would force her listeners to confront the obnoxious option. And she was certain they would not be able to keep it to themselves; secret-talk would inevitably spread the idea like a wildly communicable disease. The key, even for a people as fanatically dedicated as the Silvers, was in that all-encompassing human phrase, "The proper rationalization."
Emma slept poorly that night, despite the approval communicated from her mentors in their hidden chamber. Felwon had chosen the neighboring cubicle, and her frequent whimpering made it difficult either to relax or concentrate. In fact, Emma was beginning to have doubts about Felwon's potential value. Despite the apparent death-wish reversal, it seemed too much to expect a turnaround—especially to the extent the female would subscribe to the option. Grief is an emotion which is not so easily exorcised.
Eventually, Emma did slump into a fitful sleep in which her dreams proved almost as exhausting as real-life. Her subconscious conjured up disturbing images of friends and enemies in which neither could be distinguished from the other. Humans, Phuili and Silver People merged, separated, fought and loved with complete interchangeability. Familiar faces, some on not so familiar bodies, welcomed, accused and hated with a gallery of emotions and expressions passing through her awareness like random ghosts. And when Emma finally woke, it was to a cacophony as confusing as her dreams.
It was as if the ship had become a hive of ants, with scurryings, shouts, and indeterminate noises around, above and below her. Still half asleep, Emma murmured, "Momma."
"Hush," Gia Mayland said through the implant.
"Wha . . . what is happening?"
"I don't know. But I would not be surprised if there have been unauthorized awakenings. Perhaps you can find out at Control."
"I will go there." But first Emma checked the next cubicle and saw that Felwon was gone. The single sheet from the female's bunk was bundled and tossed aside. The corridor which connected the row of cubicles was thronged with dazed Silvers; talking, wandering and hand-touching. Emma pushed her way towards Control, trying to ignore the groping hands, only half hearing the plaintive questions which averaged out to, "What is happening? Why am I here? Why are so many here?" The entrance to Control was guarded by two large Silvers, each armed with a hand projector and a pair of long, wickedly curved knives. Emma was about to be thrust back when someone called from within the partly open portal, "It is all right. Let her pass."
There were at least a dozen inside, including the first four. Felwon was crouched in a corner, curled almost in a fetal position. A bloodied, dead Silver was crumpled near her. At the far end of Control, all but a few of the indicators on the orange-blue panel were flashing in unison. Gelhon saw Emma's widening eyes and nodded. "That's right, Berein. This—," She poked Felwon with one foot, "—came in here, killed the guard and then activated most of the sleepers."
Emma caught her breath. "Why?"
"Because she is obviously mad," Halranen declared. She added flatly, "Felwon has killed us all."
"We are going to die anyway." Jihevva gestured at the big screen, on which the sun was already showing a perceptible disc. "The only difference, now, is that everyone will know it."
Bewokul chuckled. "Consider the bright side. With three thousand scouts and nine thousand people to crew them, we can sterilize that world a dozen times over." He shrugged. "And why not? There is nothing else we can do."
Felwon stirred and raised her head. Her eyes were wild, unseeing. "You can live," she whispered.
Emma was glad to be away from the ship's teeming interior. She was not so happy about being out of touch with her mentors, although during the few moments she had before she boarded the scout, Poppa David had told her she should welcome this opportunity to continue what Felwon had so surprisingly started. "She hate because she alive when want not to be so," the old Phuili suggested. "Zerefore she make evewyone awake so zey can see sun and know zey will burn."
So a sane mind explains a deranged one, Emma reflected as she watched the blue-brown landscape below the scout. Her moody introspection was disturbed by a single explosive epithet by the scout's pilot. "Life!" Jihevva was glaring out at the rolling grasslands and occasional clumps of bush. "Just look at that. The whole planet is contaminated!"
In fact it was not a particularly verdant world. In the grip of an ice age, it had huge ice caps extending to mid-lattitudes. Only in the equatorial regions, on the single continent and a straggling archipelago, was there an ecology which supported spare savannas and widely scattered subarctic forests. Nevertheless, it was clear Halranen shared her mate's distaste.
"I have seen enough. Please take us back to the ark."
Emma had been raised on a world not too dissimilar from this one. Pacific's oceans were larger, its climate milder, its land-based vegetation a little lusher. The indigenous animal life was widely scattered and timid. So unremarkable was Pacific, with so few potential distractions, it had been selected as the ideal location for "Alchemy," the project dedicated to raising six young Silvers to a true respect for all living things. But as she looked at the retreating surface of this other life-bearing sphere, Emma wondered if Pacific had been the right place for her education. I have seen enough images of the abundant worlds of Earth and Phuili to love and respect the vibrant force which is life. Yet how can I communicate to these brothers and sisters of mine what I have only indirectly experienced? It is so difficult!
One thing, however, was certain. With her current captive audience of two, there would never be a better opportunity to begin. "It makes one wonder," she muttered, as if to herself.
Halranen turned in her seat. "Wonder? About what?"
"Sorry. I was thinking aloud."
"Compared to most of us, I suppose you do have more time to think about things. I mean, considering your—ah—impediment." Embarrassed, the female went on, "What is on your mind?"
Emma shrugged. "I just do not understand why we must all die after the decontamination of one small world. The Giver made us to purify galaxies, not to expend ourselves on a dust mote."
That startled Jihevva, who locked the controls while he turned and stared at the passenger. "Berein, you cannot know what you say, otherwise I am sure you would not say it!" His tone softened. "But of course, you do not understand. The Ark is destined to plunge into the sun of this system, and nothing we can do will change that. So we must use the one small opportunity presented to us, and then prepare to die. It is that simple."
"Forgive me please, but I do not believe that is so. It seems to me there is at least one other option."
Emma knew she was treading on thin ice. She also knew she could push the limits of propriety a little further than would be accepted from a "normal" Silver. But how much further? Praying she would not have to resort to extreme action, she tongued the tooth switch which armed the deadly little needle weapons concealed under the retractable claws of both thumbs.
Jihevva had returned his attention to the controls. The scout was above atmosphere now, and he opened the homing dish from its recess in the hull. The dish swiveled, and within seconds locked on to the ark's signal. The drive thrummed, they were thrust back against their restraints, the planet dropped away into the darkness. The male did not look at Emma, but tension was evident in the manner he grabbed his mate's hand. "What option?"
Emma took a deep breath. "Instead of decontaminating the planet, we use what is there to survive until we can refit another ark and continue our mission. Each scout cannot carry much, but because there are many, we should be able to transport enough material to give us a start with—"
"Just a moment," Halranen interrupted. "Use what to survive?"
"Protein."
"Of course, protein!" Halranen said crossly. She started to say more, but the words caught in her throat. Horrified, both she and Jihevva turned and stared at the defiant one in the back seat. If the male had been a human, Emma was sure he would be livid. "You dare to suggest we use—," He almost choked, "—living matter?"
"It is protein, isn't it?" Emma insisted with feigned innocence. "Synthesized or grown, why should it make a difference? Instead of destroying it, we make use of it. And survive. And ultimately continue our holy mission."
For Emma it was the final, absolute commitment. What happened during the next few seconds would be the making or breaking of Project Alchemy and the hopes it stood for. If wild Silvers could not be turned from their deadly crusade, they would be destroyed. Jihevva and Halranen would be the first, instantly paralyzed and then dying as the virulent poison from Emma's needles acted on their nervous systems. Then the Ark itself, vaporized along with the thousands of sentients aboard her. And every other ark, as soon as it was found, without hesitation and certainly without mercy. And because civilization is the ultimate expression of the life force, that genocidal precedent would trigger a guilt which for generations would haunt the collective psyche like a malevolent and unexorcisable spirit.
All this passed through Emma's mind as she prepared for the worst. It was a tribute to a combination of training and rigid self control that she did not react when Halranen suddenly screeched, "It was what Felwon said! We can live!"
"No!" The male pulled his hand away from his mate in shock, for a moment also unknowingly on the brink of termination. He shouted back, "Felwon was wrong! Berein is wrong! Better to die!" Again the two clutched hands, and in silent yet violent communication they strained like two arm wrestlers. When they separated, both were in a state of near collapse.
"We can live," Jihevva said dully.
"Yes." Halranen turned to the unparticipating passenger with an expression which was a compound of relief and accusation. "You had better be right, Berein."
It was only a battle, yet for a moment Emma felt she had single-handedly won the war. She was uncertain what had happened, except to suspect that in Silver terms Halranen and her mate had become insane. In a greater sense they were perhaps the first of their race to find true sanity—except that particular hope was dashed when Jihevva explained, "It is a sacrifice we must accept so that we or our descendants can continue the Great Work."
Sensing that for the moment further words from her would be superfluous or even counter-productive, Emma nodded silent agreement. She would like to have known how Jihevva and Halranen proposed to persuade others to the new doctrine—or even if they had a plan at all—but instead had to wait with lonely anticipation as the two communicated only via secret-talk until the scout finally reberthed on the Ark several hours later. As they entered the crowded tunnels, Emma was met by two guards who promptly escorted her to a restraining cell.
She could not believe it was happening. "Momma," Emma sub-vocalized plaintively as the door slammed shut. She tried to open the door, but it would not budge.
Silskin answered. Emma! What has happened? Are you alright?
No, I am not alright! I want to talk to Momma Gia!
There was a pause. Then; "Emma?"
"Momma, what is going on? They have locked me up!"
"I know. I don't understand it either. Emma, what happened between you and those two while you were away?"
"I wish I knew. Jihevva and Halranen said they accepted the necessity of surviving on that world. But how can I be sure? I don't have secret-talk!"
"They had a rationalization, I suppose?"
"Only what I gave them. That the end justifies the means."
"Really? In that case, Emma, you have made real progress!"
"I am glad you think so. But it hardly explains why I am in this cell."
"Just a moment, dear." There were several seconds of silence, during which Emma agonized with a mixture of hope and doubt. Then,
"You may not believe this, but your two friends are walking through the Ark like glad-handing politicians, greeting everyone in sight! It's as if—"
"Momma, I think I know! They're passing on the message the best way they know how. Don't you see? If they had left me free to blab, I could have spoiled it all and probably got myself killed as well—and believe me, murder was in the air when I ever-so-gently made a few suggestions in what I thought was a controlled situation."
"You could have defended yourself. Your stingers—"
"If I had used them, what then? Jihevva and Berein are our best chance. Our only chance."
The conversation was interrupted by Jase Kurber. The human sounded excited. "Emma, I think your friends are returning for you. They seem in a helluva hurry!"
Then another voice. "Cwisis is dew-eloping."
"Poppa David?"
Emma wondered if there was an equivalent to "emergency" in the Phuili's lexicon, as the old teacher calmly told his pupil, "One known as Master has led many into ozer part of ship, away fwom zoze who stay wiz your two. I not know meaning, but zink may be sewious."
The door opened and Halranen came into the cell. Jihevva remained outside, restraining a crowd of curious Silvers. "Come," the female said, thrusting Emma into the corridor. They followed Jihevva towards Control as with fists, feet and occasional angry snarls he rammed a way through tunnels made hot and humid by too many bodies in too cramped a space.
Control itself was hardly less chaotic, although it was less crowded. Emma saw Gelhon, Bewokul, and— astonishingly—Felwon, who was engaged in a shouting match with the screen image of Delbroj. The Master was equally strident as he shouted back, "You blaspheme! It is our holy duty to destroy filth, not to become filth! Something evil has diverted us to this place and has twisted you and the others away from the true path." The grizzled face became menacing. "You have a choice. Join us and die in glory. Or oppose us and die in shame."
As the screen went dark, there was a collective sigh which was almost a moan. Emma went to Felwon, who welcomed the newcomer with a sad smile. "Yes, I was mad. I killed because I was mad. But I was right when I revived the sleepers, because now the truth is known to them all."
Emma marveled at the resiliency of the one she had thought was hopelessly insane. "You are not being punished for what you did?"
Felwon shrugged. "I am still here. Everyone knows that is punishment enough."
It was an enlightened reply which, considering what Emma had already learned about these contradictory people, she did not find particularly surprising. "What was the argument with the Master about?"
"He said we are flouting the Giver's law."
"Aren't we?" Emma asked daringly.
"Perhaps." Felwon's gaze was clear and direct. "But as one who has flouted that law already, I don't really care."
"Felwon is a seed." Unnoticed, Gelhon had come up behind Emma. Emma felt her hand grasped as Gelhon continued, "You, Berein, are also a seed. The appearance of both of you at the same time can only be the Giver's work, or the new ideas could not have born fruit." Emma sensed an unintelligable ripple of palm muscles and sharply pulled her hand away.
"Please do not do that."
Gelhon nodded sympathetically and moved aside. "For a proper cleansing, it makes no sense to uselessly expend all the cleaner on one soiled spot—a concept which I find quite elegant now that I have got over the initial pain of understanding." Looking at the blank viewscreen, Gelhon added resignedly, "It is unfortunate that so many have refused to confront the pain."
"You mean those with the Master?"
"Delbroj is dangerous. Although he is wrong on the matter of whether or not we should survive, too much of what he has said makes sense. Especially his insistance that we have arrived at the wrong solar system."
That shocked Emma. She was not tuned to Momma Gia and the others, but she knew they had heard and could imagine their consternation. "But I thought Control—"
"There is evidence."
Felwon nodded vigorously. "I will get it." The younger female ran to a nearby console and returned with a large book. "These are star charts which were drawn before the Ark was launched." She opened the volume and pointed. "That is the area of space in which we are supposed to be—but in which we are not."
It was a development which was totally unexpected. The experts who so successfully reprogrammed the Ark's computer, had not even considered the possibility the Silver People might still depend on this archaic form of backup. But Emma's nimble brain quickly came up with an appropriate objection. "Why should that be so surprising? The Ark was launched, after all, even as our planets were burning. Systems were new, untried—"
"These charts show the sky as it would appear from every destination we could possibly reach during the years since drive activation. Not one matches the pattern which exists at our present location."
Emma felt helpless. She did not know what to say. Silskin signaled: Tell them it must be the Giver's work.
Too easy, she shot back. They are not so unsophisticated that they blame their god for everything they don't immediately understand.
"Zen be as unknowing as zey," suggested a familiar voice. "Zere is not way zey can know twuth."
As always, it was the Phuili's cool voice of reason which brought Emma back from the edge of panic. She longed for a few moments during which she could retire into a quiet corner and converse normally with the members of her support team; especially with Momma Gia. But events were moving too fast; she knew that even her exclusive "shorthand" channel to Silskin would have to be used sparingly. For a brief moment her imagination penetrated meters of solid rock to where her three friends and only brother were watching, listening and—as much as she—hoping.
Emma turned to Gelhon. "So what do we do?"
The older female gestured to where Jihevva had climbed on a chair and was calling for attention. "We listen to him." Bewokul came through the crowd to her, and Gelhon reached for and grasped her mate's hand.
As the noise died down, Jihevva shouted, "Are we agreed on survival?"
The response seemed unanimous, although to Emma's trained ears, not entirely enthusiastic. "Yes!"
"It is the Giver's will," someone echoed solemnly.
Jihevva nodded. "We know the price and we know it will be a heavy one." His voice rose. "But for future glory, are we willing to pay that price?"
There was a hesitation which was barely noticable. Emma supposed she would similarly hesitate if she was told her survival depended on sustenance she could only find in a decaying heap of refuse. And her distaste for rotting protien was mild compared with these peoples' abhorrence of any matter which was life-originated.
"We are willing to pay the price," Bewokul said quietly, and there was a murmur of agreement. He added, "But for the sake of our sanity, I suggest we do it in easy stages. First, survey the planet for a relatively lifeless area on which we can locate our first settlement. Second, transfer as much foodstuff and equipment as possible until proximity to the sun finally forces us to evacuate everyone from the Ark."
Jihevva pulled lips back from his fangs in a savage grin. "And then the hard part, eh?"
Bewokul nodded. "For the first time since enlightenment, we will ultimately be forced to eat what is not synthesized. It will be—ah—" Bewokul's expression became as savage as Jihevva's. "—difficult."
Emma lifted her hand. "You must still deal with the Master and those who followed him," she pointed out. "They will certainly try to stop you." And they will succeed, she thought as she considered the inevitable stalemate; half of the crew prepared to rewrite the rules in order to survive, the other half prepared to die in the service of the unholy and unforging god they called the Giver. Neither side would permit the other to gain access to any of the little ships on the Ark's surface, until ultimately the system's sun imposed its own fiery solution. Emma took a deep breath. "Permit me to go to Master Delbroj and talk to him."
Jihevva was not the type to waste words. "Is it worth the risk?"
Emma shrugged. "I am a lesser. He will not harm me."
"It is possible you overestimate his adherence to the old ways."
"Perhaps." Emma added stubbornly, "But can it do harm?"
Jihevva studied her. Then he nodded. "Only to you, I think." He lifted his head. "Does anyone believe Berein should not try?"
The answer was silence. Still in silence, there was a general movement clearing a path between Emma and Control's portal. Feeling truly apart, for the first time as much alien as if she was human or Phuili, Emma acknowledged the quiet acquiescence and walked between the silent ranks. At the portal, she turned. "Please tell Delbroj I am on the way."
"He will know." Jihevva raised his hand, palm outward. "Good talk, little one."
Transmitted by a wave of touching hands, news of Emma's mission preceeded her along the tunnels, and only after she entered the deserted sector between the opposing factions did she feel she could pause and catch her breath. The sadness and silent sympathy had stifled her; desperately she needed a hopeful word. "Momma?"
"We heard, Emma. And we understand why you do this. But the one you call Jihevva is right. You take a great risk."
"To do nothing is to guarantee failure. Momma, you must know that!"
"Of course I know. Unfortunately we may have an even worse problem."
What was worse than everyone frying because of forced inaction, Emma could not fathom. "What problem?"
"Delbroj. He has crews poking around this section of the asteroid. They are using charts and measuring tapes."
"Looking for what?"
"Us, obviously."
"But that is impossible!" Emma felt a sudden fear. "Unless—"
"No dear, it was not you. Somebody found something Delbroj has identified as not belonging on the Ark, and now he is sniffing around like a cross between Sherlock Holmes and a bloodhound. So right now your immediate priority must be to find out what is going on and somehow defuse it. If this hideaway of ours is found, it will not be just three aliens who will end up as chopped meat. One look at Silskin, and Delbroj will know enough to bring everyone back to his side—and heaven help any other Silver who is 'odd'. It'll be more than just your hide, Emma."
Emma thought of the two "reengineered" scouts on the surface directly above the concealed command post. "I think you and the others should leave, Momma."
"No. Not yet. Not only will a couple of unauthorized launchings help confirm their suspicions, but we four have by unanimous vote elected to remain here until you can come with us."
"I am not sure—" Emma paused. "You will not take unnecessary chances?"
Jase Kurber: "We love you, but we are not suicidal. If we have to go without you, we will. But please work things so we won't be forced to make that decision. Okay?"
"I will try, Poppa Jase." Emma rose to her feet and stretched. "Here I go, dear ones. Please wish me luck."
"Save all, daughter," David said gravely.
Silskin: Hand-touch.
"Come back," Momma Gia whispered.
Initially, Emma's arrival in the master's territory was almost anticlimatic. She had been escorted to a central point by two females who found her in the tunnels, and for a while she was forced to wait amid comings and goings as uncoordinated as the confusion she had left behind. For too many with not enough to do, Emma was a diversion which made her an object of intense curiousity, and the area became even more crowded as word spread of her presence. Finally she was rescued by an armed male who took her a short distance to where Delbroj was examining the wall of a small branch tunnel. Emma's heart sank. She knew what was a few meters behind that wall.
Delbroj turned to her. "Jihevva said you wanted to talk to me."
Praying her consternation did not show, Emma nodded. "Yes, master."
"Why should I listen? It is you who turned so many away from the Path."
Emma had an inspiration. She said defiantly, "You can kill me if you choose. But would that make any difference?"
The old Silver chuckled. "Little one, you attach too much importance to yourself. If I had thought your death would make Jihevva and his friends rededicate themselves to the holy cause, you would have been made a corpse as soon as I knew you were here."
"In the same way, master, is it not possible you are attaching too much importance to one slightly infected planet? It is—"
"Enough!" For a moment Emma thought Delbroj was going to strike her. Instead, he beckoned. "Come."
She knew where he was taking her as soon as they entered the descending ramp toward the drive chamber in the base of the asteroid. She had been there before, as human-Phuili crews installed the latest in phase-shift equipment, and later when they removed it after the Ark had been safely diverted to this galactic backwater. She expressed appropriate awe as they entered the huge chamber, and listened politely as Delbroj pointed at the melted slag which covered most of the floor.
"It does not look like much now, does it little one? But it propelled the Ark half a light-year from our exploding sun in the same time it used to take to travel from Homeworld to the First Moon. Given a few more months, I think we would have solved the problems of surge and meltdown and created a real interstellar drive. Anyway, I brought you here to see this."
He pointed at a body-width hole in the lower wall of the chamber. At the back of the hole gleamed a metal fitting resembling a sophisticated cross between a bolt head and a hook. Emma knew there were six of them; the anchors for the cables which had suspended the substitute phase-shift core in the center of the space. A litter of broken rock near the hole was a clear indication of poorly packed concealment, and Emma's claws twitched in their sheaths as she thought of what she would like to do to the careless technician responsible for this disaster.
Delbroj said flatly, "It was not there when the Ark was launched on its journey. Neither is it anything we could have made; the metal is completely resistant to the hottest torch, and the few scrapings we have taken defy analysis. It is apparent therefore that strangers—" As he spoke the word, the master's fur bristled and his eyes glared. "—have somehow made our Ark turn to this unknown star and to the unholy temptation of what you, small one, choose to call a "slightly" infected planet!"
A large hand grabbed the base of Emma's neck and she was hustled back up the ramp, past throngs of curious Silvers, finally into the small side tunnel. Still with a firm hold on her, Delbroj continued, "If these strangers are observing us from space, it follows that we in turn should be able to see them—"
Not true. Emma knew the big Headquarters ship was only light seconds away, safely concealed inside its bubble of masking fields.
"—but because we cannot see or detect anything unusual in near space, what we seek must therefore be elsewhere. Perhaps even inside the Ark itself." Delbroj released Emma and tapped the wall of the tunnel. "Here! Hidden in the only part of this former asteroid our builders did not have time to excavate. Yet which I suspect has been excavated. Do you like my logic, small one?"
Despite the discovery in the drive chamber, evidence of concealed watchers was still pretty flimsy. Yet Delbroj had deduced the truth in a way which made Emma wonder if there were powers within themselves not even the Silvers were aware of. A subconscious sensitivity, perhaps, to the signals from her implant—
No! He is guessing!
"Now then. What is it you wanted to say to me?"
Emma despaired. It was obvious her mission had failed, and that the only course open to her now was to somehow join her friends and blast away from the Ark before Delbroj and his followers cut through to the command post. Helplessly she looked around her. In every direction her way was blocked either by solid rock or by watchful Silvers. I can't get away from them, she signaled. Please save yourselves while there is still time!
No, little sister. Silskin's reply was amazingly clear considering its passage through metal rich rock. Be patient a little longer, and we will—
There was the explosive crack of a projectile weapon, and with a cry of agony a Silver collapsed to the floor. Then an eye-dazzling flash, and a second Silver gasped and crumpled. Screams of rage preceeded an answering barrage of bullets, knives and even thrown rocks; adding an incredible cacophony of smoke and noise.
Again Delbroj grabbed Emma. "Attack!" he roared. "In the Giver's name, attack and kill!" He jerked his captive forward so violently, she lost her footing and was dragged painfully along with him. The pandemonium remained deafening as the master led his followers after the elusive attackers. Somehow Emma regained her feet and stumbled behind Delbroj with a limping run. It was obvious where they were heading, and she wondered why Jihevva and the others had forced the issue so soon. Silvers unsure of themselves, still adjusting to ideas which conflicted with every basic instinct, would melt away before this mad charge led by a charismatic prophet.
The projectile weapon sounded again, felling another victim who was instantly trampled under dozens of feet. There was a yell of triumph, and a cluster of bodies reeled toward Delbroj. A few breathless individuals separated from the scramble, revealing a young female struggling with maniacal strength against the grip of four large males. One of the four was flourishing the female's weapon, a wicked little fifteen-shot. "Delbroj!" Felwon yelled. "Master, we spit on you!"
We? It did seem to confirm that Jihevva had acted with uncharacteristic rashness. Then again, it was also possible that Felwon had relapsed into insanity, taking to herself the impossible task of stopping the reactionaries and their leader. But who had used the beamer? As far as Emma knew, the most advanced hand weapon in the Silver armory was a sonic device which was great for crowd control, but hardly selective enough for individual targets. It was as if—
Silskin!
That's right, sister. The help from that little female was unexpected, but who am I to complain? Anyway the rabble will soon be so confused they won't notice one extra Silver stealing away their captive.
But you have triggered them into attacking Jihevva and the others! It will ruin everything!
Emma, it is ruined anyway. Or haven't you noticed?
No! Emma desperately needed to talk to Momma Gia, but she knew there was not enough time. It had all played into Delbroj's hands; the discovery in the drive chamber, Felwon's crazed intercession, and now Silskin—
A large hand closed tighter around Emma's wrist. "Come little one. Learn with me how the Giver punishes those who dare usurp his holy authority." Pointing, Delbroj shouted, "Destroy the blasphemers!"
"Destroy!" the crowd roared, and surged behind their leader and his captive. The beamer flashed from a side tunnel, and with a choked cry another fell. But now the master had his followers in such a state of holy frenzy, Emma doubted even a massacre could stop them.
I am coming up behind you. If I can get close enough to shoot that old—
Wait! There is a better way. Emma's free hand flashed forward and lightly scratched Delbroj's upper arm. At the same time she screamed, "He's dead! The Master's dead!"
He was indeed. The instant poison was so fast Delbroj's brain was destroyed even before he began to fall, and as his grip slackened Emma pulled free and merged back into the crowd.
Those closest, who had heard Emma and then saw their leader fall, wailed with dismay and pummeled and pushed themselves into a protective wall around him. Just before the jostling screen of bodies blocked her view, Emma saw some of the followers kneel and try to prod the master back to life. The attack had already degenerated into a disorganized confusion, and as she quietly slipped free from the milling throng and turned away, Emma's feeling of horror at what she had done was only slightly mollified by the fact it seemed to have had the desired effect. But before she could be sure, she knew she had one more unpleasant duty.
She found Felwon leaning weakly against a tunnel wall. Another Silver was applying salve to a wound in the young female's side.
"Silskin!"
He grinned at her. "Hello Emma. Congratulations."
"For what?" She did not know why they were using the slow talk of normal speech, but its friendly familiarity was very satisfying.
"For getting rid of the old one. You saved the mission, you know."
"Perhaps," Emma said tiredly. She turned to the female. "How do you feel?"
Felwon's eyes glittered. "I will be well. What is that language you and this one are talking?" She pointed at Silskin's weapon belt. "And what is that which made the light? It killed!"
Emma felt numb. Not that she supposed Silskin's foolishness before Felwon really made much difference. The female's youth and charisma was a near guarantee of eventual leadership, and it was certain her half-crazed fanaticism would leave a legacy of jihad which would persist for generations.
It could not be allowed.
Emma asked in the local language, "Silskin, will you please leave us for a few moments?"
"Of course."
As her brother faded into the darkness of a side tunnel, Emma said quietly, "I think you are my friend, Felwon."
"I can no longer allow myself to be diverted by friendship, Berein. Now there is a light I must follow."
"I understand." Emma gently touched the wound. Something glistened under the claw of her thumb. "Let me finish dressing that."
"Why?" Gia Mayland persisted with a mixture of anguish and anger. "Emma, you have no reason to stay with them. Jihevva is a good leader, and I am sure his pragmatism will spread to those around him. In a couple of generations, their allergy to life will be no more than an ugly memory."
Poppa Kurber took up the argument. "In any case Emma, aren't you forgetting the other arks out there? What we did with this group was only a dry run, an experiment to prove that we no longer need to destroy the Silvers when we find them. And it is you who have given us that proof. So with your experience—"
"What do you know about the native life on that planet?" Emma interrupted.
Kurber shrugged. "Only that it is sparse. Which is another reason you should not go. Even if your friends can get over their aversion to natural protein, the possibility of starvation will always be there."
"Zere is what is in sea," David said.
"Oh thank you!" Emma ran over and hugged the old Phuili. "Poppa David, please tell them!"
Davakinapwottapellazanzis's muzzle twitched with the Phuili equivalent of a smile. "I zink Emma alweady done more study of planet zan us. Ocean have much life. Some much large cweatures in water which wesemble whale cweatures on human planet. Perhaps wiz intelligence like whales. Zerefore I say expewiment stay ongoing. Emma keep implant in head, she talk wiz us by welay we place on mountain top."
"I suppose we could maintain a small craft and crew in this system," Kurber said cautiously. "And when Emma can no longer—"
"You mean when I am too old?" Emma laughed happily. "By then I will have had young ones, and they will be trained to be yours dear Momma Gia, and dear Poppas Jase and David." She opened her arms and hugged them each in turn. "Now you have only six. But in time, don't you see, we can give you thousands!"
Gia Mayland held out her hand. She was wearing the glove of secret-talk. Emma, aware the nerve blocks would have to be restored before she rejoined her other family, accepted gratefully.
You are my child and I love you.
It was an astonishing truth, and Emma knew this moment would be with her for the rest of her days.
And I love you, Momma Gia.
The sun was already fatally close. Even as the rock on the sunward side of the drifting asteroid began to melt, the last ships lifted from its surface into the dark.
On the planet, nearly three thousand of the tiny vessels were already clustered on a high dry tableland. Their crews were busy assembling temporary shelters, and a few disciplined souls had suppressed their revulsion enough to begin gathering small quantities of local life stuff for analysis.
A few hundred kilometers distant, "whales" began to gather near the shore of the continent. With cool, dispassionate intelligence they made contact with the creatures who were their flying proxies, and through the air-borne eyes they watched.
And waited . . .