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Authors: Gregory Benford

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The guard took him north and inland, just out of view of the reef. Tseng was there with a crowd and they were all watching the green water from far back among the trees.

“See them?” Tseng said to Warren when he had worked his way through the group of men and women. Warren looked out past the brilliant white sand that stung the eyes and saw silver-blue forms leaping.

“What’s—Why are they doing that?” he asked.

“We are returning their acoustic signals to them. As a kind of test.”

“Not smart.”

“Oh?” Tseng turned with interest. “Why?”

“I can’t really tell you but—”

“It is a technique of progression. We play their songs back to them, appropriately modulated. We see how they react. The dolphins eventually did well with this approach.”

“These aren’t dolphins.”

“So. Yes.” Tseng seemed to lose interest in the splashing forms in the lagoon. He turned, hands placed neatly behind his back, and led Warren through the group of advisers around them. “But you must admit they are giving a kind of response.”

Warren swore. “Would you talk to somebody if they kept poking you in the eye?”

“Not a good analogy.”

“Yeah?”

“Still …” Tseng slowed, peering out through the brush and palm trees at the glistening water. “You are the only one who got the material about how they came here. Getting scooped up and going on a long voyage and then being dumped into the ocean—you got that. I had not heard it before.”

“Uh. Huh.”

“It does make a certain kind of sense. Fish like that—they might make printed messages, yes. They have shown they can put together our own wreckage and make a kind of electrostatic printing press—underwater, even. But to build a rocket? A ship that goes between, stars? No.”

“Somebody brought them.”

“I am beginning to believe that. But why? To spread these diseases?”

“I dunno. Let me go out and—”

“Later, when we are more sure. Yes, then. But tomorrow we have more tests.”

“Have you counted the number of them out there?”

“No. They are hard to keep track of. I—”

“There are a lot less of ’em now. I can see. You know what happens when you drive them away?”

“Warren, you will get your turn.” Tseng put a restraining hand on his sleeve. “I know you have had a hard time here and on that raft, but believe me, we are able to—”

Gijan approached, carrying some pieces of paper. He rattled off something in Chinese and Tseng nodded. “I am afraid we are being interrupted once more. Those incidents last night—you saw them?—have involved us, a research party, in—Well, the Americans have been humiliated again. Their missiles we knocked down with ease.”

“You’re sure that stuff was theirs?”

“They are the ones complaining—isn’t the conclusion obvious? I believe they and perhaps, too, their lackeys, the Japanese, have discovered how much progress we are making. They would very much like to turn the Swarmers and their larva to their own nationalistic advantage. These messages”—he waved the pack of them—”are more diplomatic notices. The Japanese have given my government an ultimatum of sorts. Ha! Imagine them—!” He snorted derisively.

“Think they have forces near here?” Warren asked.

“Improbable. Other powers, however …” He eyed Warren. “One of our men is missing.”

“Oh?”

“We gather he sneaked off to go fishing last night. On the beach—no one is stupid enough to go out on the water alone, not even a trooper. He did not return.”

“Huh. The Skimmers usually go out beyond the reef at sundown. Shouldn’t be anything in the lagoon at night. Fishing’s lousy then, anyway.”

“A trooper would not know that. He perhaps thought to get fresh meat. Understandable.” Tseng frowned for a moment and then said formally, “I am sure even you understand that this is part of a larger game. China does not, of course, wish to use the Swarmers against other powers. Even if we knew how to do so.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“But I thought you were American.”

“I don’t think I said.”

“I see. I think it is time to have Underofficer Gijan take you back to your little room, then.”

PART EIGHT

NEAR ROSS 128

ONE

N
igel made his slow way along a rocky corridor. He preferred the low-g sections of the ship, where a stumble could be turned into a slight imbalance, rather than a resounding, bone-splintering crash. Crew members passed him easily, since he moved with deliberate caution. He recognized few of them now. He had spent most of the voyage from Isis working by himself, and the faces he saw no longer called up automatic names and associations. But one did catch his attention and he slowed, reached out—

“Nigel,” the man said, “I didn’t want it to come like this. I need a few weeks more of, of getting used to—”

Then it struck him. The similarities were too close, and yet—

“Carlotta!”

“Honestly, I was going to leave a letter for you and Nikka, but at the last minute, somehow I couldn’t get it down right and—”

“You’ve, you’ve …” Carlotta had the same wiry build, but the softening curves were gone, replaced by slabs of muscle. The face was more chunky, but beneath the changes he had instantly seen the same bone structure. The muscles still gave the same slightly askew smile, the backward tilt to the head when she spoke.

“Let’s get away from here. I can see you—Well, we need to talk.” Her voice was a deeper version of the familiar Californian accent.

He followed her, confused and inarticulate. They sat in a bower overlooking Lurkey’s brimming yellow vat. Carlotta spoke simply, slowly, detailing her reasons. He could not follow much of what she meant. When she began to speak of Nikka it became clearer to him.

“There is a thing between men and women,” Carlotta said. “Not deeper, maybe, but certainly different from the relationship of women to each other, no matter how hard you try to make it—” She stopped. “I’m not getting through, am I ?”

“I … You seem to be saying, indirectly, that you’ve done this because of Nikka? That you’re my rival, now?”

“Bad choice of words. But if you want it that way, then, yes. I always was.”

“But you and me, we slept together—”

“So did Nikka and I.”

“You understood … I mean, ’I knew, that was all right.”

“Yes. But—”

“I’ve got nothing against it. Look, Ted Landon’s been sleeping with some guy in BioEngineering for years, and it never undermined his position. Nobody gives a damn anymore.”

“You’re saying that’s okay, but what I’ve just done—”

“That’s different.”

“I knew you wouldn’t—”

“How could you expect me to—”

“Wait. Just wait, Nigel. Look, on a long expedition like this, what’s the point of being a woman? Having kids takes too much time, and anyway shipboard population shouldn’t be increased beyond—”

“Theoretical reasons.”

“Okay. I want to be in charge of, of a relationship. Not just helpful and supportive. And I wanted to
try
it. See what being a man—”

“Ummmm.”

“That damned ‘ummmm’ of yours! Sitting back, judging—a very male noise, Nigel. Well,
I
want to make that noise, too.” He made a sound halfway between a murmur and a grunt.

Nigel smiled slightly. “Carlotta, there’s more to—”

“Carlos.”

Something in the tone of the word made Nigel stiffen. “If you’re going to come between Nikka and me, I—”

“I wasn’t between you before?”

“Not this way, not—”

“Not as a ‘rival,’ as you so charmingly put it?”

“You’re twisting what I say.”

“Not as much as you think, what you
really
think.”

Nigel said coldly, “That remains—”

“Notice how much of a confrontation this has turned into? Two men, not giving an inch.”

“Why should I give—”

“You don’t have to. I’m not changing everything. We’ll still have a loose triangle. My relationship with Nikka will be different, but there’s no reason—”

“No. I don’t like it.”

“I want to, to face the world with a new persona. Try out this heavy, bulky body. You have no idea how it
is
.” Carlos rolled his thick shoulder muscles experimentally.

Despite himself, Nigel asked, “How different … is it?”

Carlos smiled in a friendly way. “Very.”

Carlos began to see Nikka, but never in Nigel’s company. Nikka found Carlos attractive, and Nigel could find no reason why he should object to her using the privileges they had always accorded each other. Their relationship had never been completely binding, after all. But the theoretical perspective did nothing to alter his deeply smoldering feelings of anger and, yes, envy. Carlos was younger and more vibrant, that was part of his appeal. He easily slipped into the fast pace of preparations for exploring the Ross system. Nigel spent time on the analysis net, but if anything it made him more withdrawn.

He spoke with Nikka about it. To her the facts were plain and, in the light of medicosurgery, unexceptional. Freedom to alter one’s sex was as basic as any other right. Nigel could accept this theoretically, but he came to an abrupt halt at the specific case of Carlos. There was something to the entire issue that set his teeth on edge, something beyond simple rivalry, and yet he could not get a sure grip on it. When he spoke his throat seemed to get tight, his voice dry and scratchy.

It was confusing to him, particularly since no one else, even Nikka, appeared to take the emergence of Carlos as more than a passing, mildly interesting bit of gossip. It cropped up in conversation among their friends for a week or so, and then vanished in the general hubbub about Ross 128.

TWO

It’s a pretty faint little bugger, we can hardly make out any of its planets in the optical

Well down in the infrared I’m picking up plenty from the two terrestrial-sized planets looks like a high albedo on both of ’em

Wish we had a decent-sized star to reconnoiter this damn one’s small as Ra an’ got a lotta flares on it give a look at ’at corona big splotches all over it

Bound to be variable, all the small stars are, so according to theory those terrestrials’ll have big swings in the weather

Doesn’t look good for a stable biosphere on those

Outer planets all ’bout Saturn-sized lotsa moons and two rings, some asteroids between those two, looks like it’s a pretty standard pattern

Why the Isis Watcher would beam a signal to this dead place I dunno maybe a mistake, huh Nigel?

Wait until the returns are in

Got an image here yeah give a look that first terrestrial’s got no atmosphere, high albedo, must be bare rock

You got those IRs on the second yet I know there’s a malf in that sensor but we been waitin’ damn long time

Comin’ in now looks like mebbe 178 degrees kelvin, pretty cold, but we expected that with a pip-squeak sun to warm it, I sure don’t pick up much else

Some carbon dioxide, little ammonia—maybe a lot of ice an’ snow

Bring the right scope down some, that reflectivity it’s jumpin’ all over when I put it on tight beam, must mean there’s plenty of reflectin’ surfaces, ice fields I bet

No sign of bioactivity in that atmosphere dull as dishwater

The grav-lens told us it looked jolly crappy, no surprise there

Goddamn all this way an’ nothin’ but junk

We knew all along with an M star like this it was rather like expecting roses in a jam jar to look for a biosphere

Cold as a hoor’s tit an’ we’re years from any-thin’ interestin’ even if we had the juice to get there

Ted we haven’t lost all our thrust we could boost back up, just swing through the Ross system and head on out

I like ’at we could pick up couple months on gettin’ back up to near-light speed ’stead of wallowin’ round in this icebox

Better hurry up on it if we’re gonna do it got a critical transition comin’ up in the reaction engines Ted

Bloody hell we’re not done with recon yet

Betcher butt there won’t be nothin’ to see

Nothing alive that’s for sure

Scrub it I say

We need a vote ’a the whole ship to do ’at

Na, rule is section leaders can decide in a pinch an’ this sure as hell is one

Janet send in a formal request from ExoBio if it’s your judgment that there’re no life sites here

Alex you’re in the net still—aren’t you?—Alex?—he isn’t repped in

So skip him there’s no time

No I can’t make a decision—with Section leaders’ consent of course—until I’ve heard from Alex

The big radio dishes aren’t fully deployed yet I don’t see

Ted this is Alex—sorry we had a resolution problem on aft antenna but I’ve got the outer part of the Ross system mapped now, the big gas giants and there’s something there with a lot of metal in it

Step up the gain I need more detail

Ted this is Nigel it’s just not on to cancel this early

Christ don’t listen to him this is ExoBio Ted look he’s just tryin’ to stretch out the encounter time to prove out this theory of his that nobody believes anyway an this’s the last hurrah anyway for him I say we boost soon’s Alex

Yeah we can pick up rest of the data on the flyout

We got a good fraction of the minimum already

I don’t give a sweet shit about minimum performance we’re facing years of voyage Christ what’s a few more months

Spend the time in Slots Nigel do you good

Give it a rest, eh? Ted, I appeal to you, don’t

Gentlemen we got maybe ten minutes to decide, tops, or I got to shut the drive down

Christ Alex can you see anymore?

I’m getting some kind of metal on one of the gas giant moons that’s all I can say right now looks like very bright in the radio reflectivity but that’s all I can say

BOOK: Across the Sea of Suns
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