Aliena Too (15 page)

She schooled herself again to be polite in the face of ignorance. “It is theoretically possible, if you do not specify search parameters too fine.”

“This matched to the limit of magnification.”

“That is remarkable, but still possible.” But so unlikely as to signal a mistake.

“And there were hundreds of others that also matched.”

Aliena paused, reassessing. “This is doubtful. The tool must be out of adjustment.”

“It is true. I had the robots check the microscope.”

She diminished her glow. He was being dim, and she did not want to hurt his feelings by correcting him too firmly. His intellect was slight, but his feeling was powerful; it was a treacherous combination. “You gave them a correct instruction? They can be literal minded, and sometimes our words are not precisely what we mean.” The translation of that would be “You blundered, idiot!”

“Maybe you should check with them,” he said. “Quietly.”

He must suspect that there was an error, and did not crave public ridicule when it was corrected. “A moment.”

He waited while she mentally contacted the robotic hierarchy and verified the information. According to the robots, he had indeed found hundreds of identical grains of sand.

Yet it remained implausible, if not impossible. “The robots confirm your report. What is your conclusion?”

“Those grains are artificially made to be identical. Is this something the starfish set up?”

“No. Our sand is fundamental natural working material, shaped into larger devices, not single grains.”

“Then something else shaped them. That is my concern. That is why I asked you to meet me here on wood. I did not find any of those special grains in any living or once-living thing. Maybe the acids of life as it searches for nutrients destroy them.”

“No special grains in wood or flesh?”

“This is my observation. Only in things constructed from non-living material.”

“Just how many of these grains did you find?”

“I don't know. Their count seems endless. My impression is that they number only one in perhaps a million ordinary grains of sand, but you use a lot of sand in construction.”

“We do. The hull and framework of the spaceship is made essentially from melted and shaped sand. The frames of the robots are made from it.”

“Yes. That is part of my concern. The grains seem to be designed to survive the heat and pressure of construction.”

And it seemed that his concern was valid. He had actually discovered something unlikely that the starfish had missed. “Why are you reporting this to me privately?”

“Because whatever shaped those grains of sand must have reason. I suspect they are sensors, maybe there to track what we are doing. Should that power realize that we have caught on, there could be consequences we don't like.”

Now she was completely attuned. She did not know what to make of this. Rather than admit that, she probed for his further thoughts. “What is your judgment of your attitude?”

“It sounds paranoid. Like thinking that the universe is out to get me. I don't trust that. So I came to you, because you have a far better and more balanced mind than I do and can more accurately judge the case.”

“Paranoia is an emotional manifestation.”

“Yes. So this requires rational assessment, rather than my distorted human take on it. But if it does represent what I fear it does, our discovery must be kept secret.”

“And if that assessment vindicates your suspicion, what then? What is your fear?”

“That we are being observed by an unknown alien force. One that just might be capable of destroying us if it chooses. And it might so choose if it learns that we are on to it.”

She considered briefly. “Quincy, your fear is becoming mine. Your paranoia may have alerted us to something we did not before suspect. I agree: this must be kept private. Give me time to consult and consider.”

“Um. If that means checking with the robots—”

“It does.”

“If they are made with sand as a component, there may be some of those shaped grains in their bodies, observing what they do. That makes me uneasy in another way.”

“But you have already consulted with them!”

“Only in a limited way. I did not draw any conclusions in their presence. I came directly to you, and tried to ensure that our dialogue would not be near any of those grains.”

He had indeed. And he had again thought of something she had overlooked. “You are correct to be concerned. Now let's do what you seemed to be looking for, so that there is no suspicion about our dialogue.”

“Gladly.” He seemed relieved.

She touched the tip of his arm and put him into a prolonged orgasmic siege. She trusted that that signaled her appreciation of his discovery.

In due course he departed, leaving her with a problem she had never anticipated. If they truly were under observation by some powerful alien culture, what should they do next? She couldn't even signal the home planet for advice; that would be monitored too.

Was this all paranoid imagination? That was possible. But it seemed more likely that they really were under observation by some outside intellect. Quincy had stumbled on a phenomenal revelation, and had the sense to alert her in true privacy.

She would have to investigate this. But how? She would be almost constantly under observation by the alien sensors. She agreed with Quincy that if they were governed by a hostile intellect, the mere fact of evincing knowledge of their nature could trigger savage destruction. How could she investigate without risking that?

She couldn't. She was no innocent child whose whimsies could pass without notice. She was surely being constantly watched, as she ran the ship and the classes.

A child. A child might be able to do it. Except that a child would not have the necessary knowledge or experience.

She thought of Maple, her human daughter, who had accepted the unusual shifting of her family with fortunate grace. Maple still considered Aliena her mother, though there was no genetic link between them, but also accepted Star as her apparent mother. Could she accept a responsibility like this? But how could she even be told, and what could she do if she knew? She was a child, carrying a doll.

Then it flashed upon her. A doll! Aliena could give Maple another doll, or replace the one she had, the pink starfish. And give her a hint of its nature.

But, again, how? She couldn't use the robot translators to tell Maple, because the suspect grains of sand were in them. She couldn't speak directly to the girl, because Aliena was a sea creature and Maple was a land creature. Also, making the doll with built-in sensors would require robot assistance, and that would give away its nature. So this notion, tempting as it was, was not feasible.

Unless Quincy had a notion. She decided to ask him.

She intercepted Quincy as he was departing a class. Explora was with him. Well, this was a matter that concerned all starfish and all humans; it could be shared with her. “Let's go to the storage bin.”

He was surprised, then must have realized that she was concerned with privacy, rather than with breeding. “If you wish.”

Before he could ask Explora to depart alone, Aliena spoke. “Come with us, Explora.”

Confused, Explora was silent. So was Quincy. Explora had before been excluded from their private dialogues, and surely believed that they were breeding in nature. Starfish did not have three-person breeding, not even when only simulated; that was an occasional human phenomenon.

The three of them fit a bit tightly in the bin, their arms adjacent like the spokes of gears. The others waited.

Aliena plunged in, first rehearsing the background for Explora. “You are now adult and destined for increasing responsibility. Therefore you will be party to serious matters not known to others. We have discovered alien sensors embedded in our construction and machinery. We may be under observation by a culture we were not aware of before. I think of them as the proctors, watching without interfering. The sensors are not embedded in organic things, hence this wooden meeting place, for privacy. We must not speak openly of our discovery, because we prefer not to advertise our discovery to those sensors. It is possible that their makers are long gone and they represent defunct artifacts, but it is also possible that they remain ‘live' and are actively watching us today. Discovery could trigger serious consequences for us.”

Explora understood immediately, being a starfish. “What do you wish of me?”

“Share the information about the proctors and sensors with others when you can speak with them privately, whether here or some other organic setting. Otherwise do nothing; we must seem oblivious. This is merely information, not any projected action.”

“I will do that. Should I depart now?”

“Not yet. I brought Quincy here for consultation in this matter, and you may also have useful input. I wish to expand our surveillance of the alien artifacts, which resemble microscopically small grains of sand. They seem to be throughout the ship, which indicates they are also in our home world where the ship was constructed, and have been for some time. We need to know whether they are also on Earth. We need to look for them on Earth, and we can't do it ourselves. Since we can't communicate with humans without using the translation robots, this is awkward.”

Both remained silent, agreeing.

“It occurred to me that we could place a sensor of our own, keyed to recognize the alien artifacts, taking it to different locations on Earth. If it confirms their presence, we will know that the alien culture is galactic in nature, or at least spread across a number of light years, and that we, and probably other sapient cultures, are being monitored. At that point we will need to come to a decision on what action, if any, to take regarding the proctors.”

Again, both silently agreed.

“The problem is the placement of that sensor on Earth. We could fire it into the ground and see what it indicates, but that could easily miss the artifacts if they are thinly spread. I prefer to have it taken to likely places, as could readily be done by having a human person carry it. A person who might do so without attracting notice is my daughter Maple. She has a starfish doll formed of organic material that we might modify to include our sensor. But I do not want to do this without informing her and her present mother Star. The question is how to inform them without also informing the aliens, assuming they are watching. Do you have notions?”

“You are surely being regularly observed,” Quincy said. “But the aliens may not be paying as much attention to the rest of us, as we are lesser figures. We may be more free to act.”

“How do you conclude this?”

“It's my empathy. I'm trying to think like a galactic alien, a proctor. If they are monitoring hundreds, thousands, or millions of worlds they will have to be efficient and not waste their resources spying on folk who don't matter. They wouldn't want an information glut that drowns out what is relevant.”

When he said it, Aliena saw that it made sense. His empathy was paying off, as it had when he stalked the nesting birds in the race. “What can you do?”

“I can try to tell Maple about the doll, in a manner that won't alert the aliens even if they are watching. You can prepare the doll while I do that, so there is no direct communication between the two of you about the doll, but she will know. Maple can then tell Star, when they are private. She can also tell Gloaming and Lida when they visit. All of it under the radar.”

“How can you tell Maple without alerting the sensors?”

“By doing something they won't react to, but that she will.”

“This is not clear to me,” Aliena said, mildly annoyed.

“He can understand things in ways we can't,” Explora said. “He is talented.”

That open appreciation annoyed her more. Explora was coming across like a girlfriend. “How?” she repeated.

“I believe she knows about the glasses Lida wears, and how you are in touch with her through them, Quincy said. “I will make a wordless sign with a picture of those glasses and a picture of the starfish doll, and an equals sign between them.”

“How will that help?”

“She knows you use the glasses to be in touch with Lida,” he said patiently. “This suggests that you will be similarly in touch with her via the doll. She should also realize that it's a secret, or she would have been told openly. She'll catch on; she's not a dull girl.” He flashed briefly. “She may take after her mother in that respect.”

And he was probably right. He not only knew how a human thought, but he also empathized with the child in a way Aliena herself had failed to do despite the child being hers. Her annoyance continued. “Do it.”

“I will help,” Explora said.

Aliena departed, pointlessly frustrated. She had been missing aspects, and now Explora would be making out with Quincy in the private bin. Aliena had become human enough to resent that, while being starfish enough to see that her resentment was foolish. The human was indeed useful, and Explora was doing exactly what she had been designated for. It was unreasonable for Aliena to be jealous of that. But she was. Part of her annoyance was her own failure to abate her annoyance despite knowing herself to be at fault in experiencing it. Emotion had such complicated eddy currents!

She went to see about modifying the doll. The sensor would have to be crafted of organic materials, which was a special technical challenge, then inserted into Maple's doll when she visited. The doll represented Aliena herself, a pink starfish, so it was fitting that it be adapted for this purpose. Maple should also like participating in a secret hunt.

That night when she joined Quincy, he was somber. “I am sorry I irritated you. I know I'm not as sharp as you would like me to be.”

He thought he was the one at fault. That was his miscue. But it made her feel better, both for his apology and his confusion. His empathy was not perfect. “I was being female,” she said, and extended her arm.