Jaydium (27 page)

“There is no discrepancy,” Raerquel replied tranquilly. “Whether or not you have true, independently-developed intelligence or are merely mimicking what you have seen is no longer the point in question. Now, with these charges of mental contamination as the basis for treason, the greater the commonality of your behavior and gastropoid values, the stronger our case.”

“That must be a world record about-face,” Lennart said wryly.

“What good will that do?” Eril asked Raerquel. “The Council isn't going to judge
your
guilt or innocence by how indoctrinated
we
are.”

“Some of your Council members wouldn't believe us if we quoted cosmic constants at them,” Lennart added.

“For my experiment to succeed, any insight into the principles of gastropoid civilization that I can be demonstrating in you will be of immense value. I am now attempting to answer all your previous questions.”

“Why?”
Eril said.

“Council-of-Ocean is expecting my defence to be a complete denial of the treason charges. That way, even if they acquit me, they can use my words to discredit the cause of peace. They can say, ‘See, even Raerquel Hath'djan denies opposing our firm handling of offspring planets!' Even if I am convicted, this must not happen.”

“What are you going to do?” Kithri asked.

“Agree with the charges.”

“What! And let them execute you?”

“I am not intending to sacrifice myself needlessly,” the gastropoid replied. “I am placing my faith in the inherent desire of the Council members for peace and understanding. I will say to them, ‘Yes, Raerquel is agitating for peace, but with understanding comes fellowship, and then peace cannot be treason.'”

“That's just so many words,” Lennart said dispiritedly. “If they didn't believe you then, why would they now?”

“Maybe there's a way to convince them
without
words,” said Kithri.

Eril felt suddenly cold. He didn't like the tone of her voice or the set of her chin.

“What do you mean,
without words?
” Lennart asked.

“In my ‘jet there's a device — the encephalosynchron,” she said slowly, looking steadily at Raerquel. “We use it in
duo
flight to link the pilot's minds to shipbrain. That's a computing device like an artificial mind. It — ”

“Hold it!” Eril interrupted. “We're talking about a third-class scrubjet here, not a psionics lab.”

“But maybe we could adapt it for gastropoid brains, hook two of them up together. There's no way they could posture around then. They'd share each other's thoughts — they'd
know
how alike they are. Don't you see? This might change
everything
for them!”

“You have a device that is permitting speaking like this — mind to mind?” Raerquel asked.

Kithri said “Yes!” and Eril said “No!” at the same time.

“Of course!” Brianna exclaimed. “Computer-mediated telepathy!”

“My human-friends,” said Raerquel, curling and uncurling its upper tentacles rapidly, “if this could be possible — to tie the minds of our Planetary and offspring leaders in this way — we could be resolving our differences without prejudice or misunderstanding. All would be agreeing on the necessity for peace. We would swim through one water, be illuminated by one light. War — war would become unthinkable. This can be done, this linking of minds?”

“I don't know,” Kithri said. “It's just an idea. We'd have to modify the apparatus, reroute the morphoplex lines, maybe reprogram some of shipbrain. But we have to try.”

Eril realized she might actually be serious. “The
duo
apparatus wasn't meant for telepathy,” he said uneasily. “And that's assuming you can modify it for whatever kind of brains Raerquel's people have. They're not even in the same phylum as us — there's not a comet's chance in hell you'll find enough similarity to know where to start!”

They had now come to the first of the low hills separating the shoreline from the inland city. The platform rose in gentle waves over the lumps of land and Eril's body swayed with it. Sunlight gleamed on the dent in Kithri's nose.

“
I
know that!” she said. “
You
know that! But don't deprive these people of hope just because
they
don't know that!”

“Even if it were possible to modify the equipment, we'd have to test it on a human-to-gastropoid link first,” Eril said, trying to sound calm and rational. “Who's going to be the experimental volunteer,
you?
”

“Damn right! Who else is qualified to test it? It's my apparatus, my brain — ”

“Your brain that gets fried! Kithri, I won't let you do it!”

“
You
won't!” she flamed at him. “What makes you think you have anything to say about how I risk my dustball brain?”

“It's completely unreasonable!” The proposal wasn't unreasonable, and he knew it. It was foolhardy and hazardous, but not unreasonable. What
was
unreasonable was how horrified he was at Kithri participating in it, how desperately he wanted not to lose her.

“So what is reasonable about
anything
that's happened to us?” she said. “Lennart popping out of thin space, the Cerrano Plain turning into a goddamned forest, Brianna's city — and now this!
This
is reasonable?”

“Will you
stop
it!” Brianna screamed. “Here we are on the brink of annihilation, and you two start a lovers' quarrel! Eril, the least you can do is help Kithri make the equipment work safely.”

“I thought you were against our interfering in the gastropoids' affairs,” Eril retorted. “Let them work out their own destiny, you said.”

“I was! I still am. But improving their communications is
not
the same as dictating our own solutions to their problems. It might even enhance their own cultural processes. And besides, I didn't say I agreed. I don't know enough about it to have formed an opinion. I
said
that if you were determined to engage in the experiment at all, you ought to do it properly.”

Lennart, still pale and quiet, added, “As has been said before under slightly different circumstances, we haven't got anything to lose, heyh?”

“It's a stupid, comet-crazy thing to try,” Kithri said in a quiet, intense voice. “Nine chances out of ten it won't work at all. Or else it will, as you put it, fry my brain. Probably along with whichever leader is wired up to me, which will start the war for sure. But we've got to do
something,
and I don't see any other possibilities.”

They were right, all of them, damn them. He understood, he just didn't like the feel of the whole thing.

Kithri shifted on the platform so she was facing him, almost brushing against him. Eril realized how rarely she ever touched anyone and when she did, it was deliberate and controlled. All except for that time after their first
duo
flight when something had broken loose inside her.

Behind her, the waves slipped by in hypnotic rhythm. Eril noticed them only peripherally. Her eyes were huge and dark, bruised-looking in the shadows of her lashes.

“In case it hadn't occurred to you,” she said, “I can't rewire the damned thing by myself. You're the only other person who knows anything about the
duo
apparatus. I...
need
you. Or are you just pissed,” she added savagely, “because you didn't think of it first?”

Shaken, Eril turned away, eyes blindly scanning the horizon. Her words stung as if she'd physically struck him. Thoughts rushed through his mind like poisoned memories.

Whenever there's trouble, you never let anyone else make decisions for you. You live — or die — by your own mistakes... The only good escape route was one you found for yourself...

No wonder he couldn't find a
duo
partner for Eades's Courier Corps. It was the pattern of his whole life, depending on himself and no one else, because every time he did...

Sun and sky reeled around him. The gently lapping waves roared in his ears and the warm air turned to the chill of space.

He depended on himself because he'd had to. First his father, then Weiram...gone in an instant. They might all be gone tomorrow, blown to powder in the gastropoids' war.

Now he couldn't promise Kithri a damned thing. And anything he did to dissuade or protect her would only expose all of them to greater risk. If she could make a difference, then by all the powers of luck and space, so could he. He had to let her try.

The Clan Hath engineer-scientists had moved the scrubjet to a huge, airy dome on the western outskirts of the city. As soon as they arrived, Raerquel turned the entire laboratory over to Eril and Kithri. They spent the better part of a day planning the modifications. At first, Brianna hung over Eril's shoulder, scribbling notes on the seaweed-gelatin sheets the gastropoids supplied. By the time they were ready to begin, she'd gone off on her own to explore the rest of the Clan Hath enclave. Once it became apparent Lennart would be of little use, he too disappeared. Eril was too busy to wonder what he was up to.

What Kithri suggested, the adaptation of the
duo
apparatus for gastropoid usage, proved to be far from trivial. The shipbrain and its sophisticated connections to the guidance systems were not designed for easy access. Rather the reverse, they'd been shielded from both the insidious Cerrano dust and the prying of incompetent, perhaps drunken, fingers. Spacebound installations were scarcely better protected.

In order to expose the connections between shipbrain and the headsets, as well as the sensors and flight control, they'd have to cut through
Brushwacker's
ceramometallic hull. They both knew, without having to say it aloud, that without elaborate re-sealing, it would no longer be safe at
duo
speeds.

Eril squelched an irrational desire to maintain the flightworthiness of the tiny ship.
If the planet's blown to powder, where could a scrubjet take us that would be safe? Besides, we're not doing this to save our own skins.

The jaydium cutter was cool and light in Eril's hands. He paused before slicing through the smooth patina of
Brushwacker's
skin. He glanced at Kithri, standing behind the stubby wings and holding several of the sculpted
therine
tools. She'd always acted so possessive about the ‘jet, as if it were everything she owned. Skies, it
was
everything she owned. Yet now she said nothing, only watched with her mouth so tight it looked white. Without a word, she slid beneath the ship and began to work through the rear panel.

Breaching the ship's seals without destroying the complex machinery inside turned out to be even more tedious and demanding than Eril had imagined. If he'd had any inclination to become a mechanic, it quickly vanished. Burned fingertips, creaking knuckles, aching neck muscles and red, watering eyes seemed to be an intrinsic part of the job. He groaned inwardly at the prospect of the hours of work before they could begin recalibrating the circuitry for the gastropoid nervous system.

Finally his eyes refused to focus on anything closer than his foot. His fingers on the jaydium cutter felt as if they'd been fused into permanent claws. He shoved himself out from under the scrubjet's nose and clambered to his feet. Kithri swore as she banged her elbow against the cut-away wall.

“We both need a break,” he said, rubbing his fingers. To his surprise, they straightened, although with protest. He shook his shoulders, trying to loosen them.

Kithri rolled out from under the ship and sat up. She muttered, “You can if you want to. I'll just check — ”

“You'll do no such thing,” he said irritably. “We're so tired neither of us can see straight. Do you want to risk frying Raerquel's brain because you were too stubborn to rest when you needed it?”

Kithri's chin shot upward but after a moment, she shook her head. Eril decided that was about the best response he could hope for. She'd clung to her decision to modify the ‘jet, resisting any distraction or delay. In her place, he'd want it over with as soon as possible, too. He left her sitting in the shadow of the scrubjet. There was no use asking if she'd walk with him.

He found Lennart squatting on the marble-like slab that served as their doorstep.

“How goes it, captain?”

“It'll take a few days yet, assuming everything keeps going this well. It's all got to be checked and triple checked.”

“I was wrong about you,” Lennart said slowly. “What I said before the hearing...”

“We were all swiping at each other. You were just — ”

“Shut up and let me apologize! I can't hold you accountable for the crazy things your Federation did, any more than I can blame Kithri — or Raerquel. Even Bri, with all her academic bullshit, she'd stand on her head to save these folks. Protesting all the while that her only interest was as a scientist. Maybe in my time, it was people like you that kept us from destroying it all.”

“Hey, don't go making me into a hero,” Eril said with an embarrassed laugh. “I'm just your everyday fly-boy. I followed orders, I didn't make policy.”

“Maybe things would've been better if you had... Like they say, the time to stop a war is before it starts. Meanwhile, how about a stroll?”

“Such as, where?”

“We-all...” Lennart drawled as he started down the wide avenue. “I was down at the spaceport earlier, having a look inside those glass ships...”

“They let you in, feeling the way they do about us
lowly mammals?”

Lennart grinned. “That was the easy part. I convinced the technicians it was on Raerquel's orders. Clan Hath carries a whole lot of clout here in the city, even if it doesn't with the Council.”