Yet suppose she did learn the technology of hostage transfer? How could that help her galaxy? To all intents and purposes it had already lost. She needed much more than parity now!
“Something is occurring,” another £ vibrated. “Emergent couples are being halted at periphery of bog.”
Melody knew immediately that this had to concern her. The Dash command was aware of her escape from their net, and was now checking potential hosts. They knew she could not have drifted far from her assigned arrival point, so a saturation testing of the region would reveal her aura.
Still, they obviously had not had a specific tracer on her, or they would have spotted her instantly. There were thousands of potential hosts, all of which had to be checked.
“This is very interesting,” Cnom said. “You really are in demand by Dash.”
“Yes, I really am,” Melody agreed. “The very existence of my galaxy may be at stake. This is why I shall resort to desperate measures in order to preserve my freedom. I must seek and find the key to neutralize the hostage procedure.”
“You would probably find what you seek in the Dash Imperial capital annex,” Cnom said. “I do not have business there.”
“We may make an exception,” Melody said, “since I do have business there.” She had complete control over the host-body, but had not exerted it, preferring to keep the relationship amicable.
The immediate question was what to do about this search. If she broke ranks and left the route to the wood-mill, she would give herself away. So it was better to keep going, hoping she could somehow avoid detection. Mechanical aura analysis was a simple business when aural units were available, but such units were phenomenally complex, not trundled about needlessly. So the verification would be awkward and time-consuming. They might resort to some sort of trick questioning. She could try to thwart that by letting Cnom respond, but then the £ could betray her. Except that the £ did not talk with the Dash.
As the magnets did not talk with the Solarians?
“We do not concern ourselves with Spherical matters,” Cnom explained. “They are not of sufficient interest, and we cannot travel in space.”
Not physically, and not economically. The £ body was huge, massing many Solarian tons; in fact, they resembled Earth elephants, or the more placid herbivorous dinosaurs of Outworld. A sapient entity had to be small enough to be moved economically via mattermission. A hundred Dash could cross the galaxy with the energy expenditure of a single £.
Transfer, however, was quite different. It cost no more to transfer the aura of a monster than of a mite. Why hadn’t the £ gone to space in this fashion?
For two reasons, Cnom’s memory informed her. First, the £ had little interest in extraplanetary cultures or desire to experience them, and less desire to vacate their own ideal bodies. Second, Dash controlled the transfer facilities. The £ lacked the incentive to make any effort to change the situation.
“Milk from contented cows,” Melody murmured to herself, drawing on an expression that had spread like Tarotism through the segment but had lost its meaning in the process. Informed scholarly opinion was that cows had been bovine pets connected with a fluid called milk, noted for their placidity. The meaning today was that it was a waste of effort to try to change anything that lacked the desire to be changed.
Melody shook her head, mentally. She had known intellectually that Sphere-level intelligence could exist without the drive toward dominion, but this was the first time she had experienced it personally. How many other sapient species existed in the universe, as deserving of Spherical status as their neighbors, but denied it owing to circumstance?
“We desire space no more than your kind desires the bog,” Cnom pointed out.
An apt parallel. “Very well,” Melody said. “I shall not wish for you a lifestyle foreign to your nature. But you should understand that not only my own lifestyle, but the very existence of my kind are being destroyed by Dash and its allies of Andromeda. They are attempting to deprive my galaxy of its energies. All of us will perish. In your terms, it is as though Dash found a way to dry up the entire bog, leaving only a blank hole.”
Horror swept through the £. “That would be wrong! The bog is vital to our existence!”
“A problem always becomes more serious when it affects your own demesnes,” Melody remarked.
But she got no further rise out of her host. “Were our bog threatened, we should have to act. But this is not the case.” And Cnom marched on up the channel toward the rarefied jelly that phased into atmosphere, bearing her precious burden of lemoncurl.
As they emerged onto solid land, a Dash mounted on a huge male £ hailed Cnom’s mahout. The challenger’s triple wings whirled, emitting the controlled vibrations of speech sound. “Pause, Dash, for inspection.” The £ skin picked up the vibrations and the £ mind comprehended their meaning, but Cnom paid little attention; Dash affairs were not of much interest.
Melody, however, listened closely. The moment she was exposed, she would have to act, destroying the inspector and mahout and retreating into the bog. But that could be only a temporary reprieve, and she hoped to escape detection entirely if possible.
—Dismount, enter the aural booth,— the officer said. Now that they were close, Melody was aware of the peculiar Dash speech intonation, a function of the wings. It was sound—but not the kind of sound she normally heard. Dash sound.
Then she realized: They had brought a portable Kirlian detector. This was a serious search, all right!
Cnom curled a free tentacle up so that the mahout could perch on it. She lifted the mahout across to the back of the other £, where the box was tied, without ever disturbing her load of lemoncurl. She did not communicate with the other £, because here in the rarefied air her skin could not create a suitable vibration. “Yes, a problem always becomes more serious when it affects your own demesnes,” Melody remarked. The £ were necessarily mute outside of the jelly, another reason their intelligence was ignored by the Dash.
The mahout emerged from the box. —What is this nuisance about?— he inquired. —My aura’s the same as it ever was, and it was verified only a while ago.—
—Imperial matter,— the officer said. Then, his wings whirring confidentially: —Some captive missed the host, and they think she’s in one of us.—
—A female? If she were in me, I’d know it!— And the two males whirred together in male humor, the same across the universe with minor variations.
The mahout remounted, —On— his claws said by their pressure in Cnom’s hide. There was no malice in this; the creature’s feet were not strong enough to cause pain to a £.
Cnom resumed her rotary progress.
“But they didn’t check us!” Melody exclaimed.
“Why should they check a £?”
And Melody realized what had been hidden in her host’s mind amid the myriad other facts. The Dash did not regard the £ as true participants in Sphere civilization, though the level of £ intelligence was known. Millennia of experience had demonstrated the £ disinterest in the artifacts of interstellar empire. Thus the £ were ignored, apart from their laboring capacities; they were beasts of burden who never gave away private matters. Male and female Dash routinely copulated upon the backs of their great steeds. Military consultations were held while riding; thus the £ were aware of Dash strategies, but the information never leaked to other Dash.