"Please repeat. I think I have made a translation error."
"No, you heard correctly," Pahli assured him. "I want you to help us find a way to become a single mind."
"Why?"
"As you said, we're a violent race. We've come close to destroying ourselves far too many times, and now we're on the brink again. Trying to resolve disputes with force never works. We need to learn cooperation and mutual understanding, and I think this may be the only way well ever do so."
"What makes you think I can help you reach this goal? Or would wish to?"
"You're clearly more advanced than we are in some ways; certainly you've had more experience with other races." Pahli shrugged. "And if you hate the idea so much of sharing the stars with a fragmented race you should be happy to help."
There was a long pause. "I must consider this," the Drymnu said at last.
"Fine, take your time. We'll be waiting for your answer."
He tapped the switch as Cyrilis left his station and floated over. "A word with you, Commander?" he asked, his stiff tone belying the politeness of his words.
Pahli looked up calmly. "Certainly."
Cyrilis's eyes flickered around the bridge, and when he spoke it was with lowered volume. "With all due respect, sir, what the hell are you trying to do?"
"Find a solution to war on Kohinoor. Anything wrong with that?"
"The idea, no. The method, yes." He ticked off points on his fingers. "First of all, you have no idea whether this-this hive mind thing is even possible for humans to achieve. Secondly, even if it is, what makes you think that an alien creature who's never even seen men before can come up with a way to do it? And thirdly, he's already said he'd like to see us all dead. What's to stop him from just seeding Kohinoor with some sort of plague once we bring him there?"
"The fact that he's never going to come anywhere near Kohinoor. There are one hundred eighty-six men and women aboard the Susa; we can supply whatever test subjects are needed. For the rest, I think it's a worthwhile gamble."
Cyrilis's eyes widened momentarily. "You're going to let him experiment on your own crew?"
"As you said earlier, it's our job to take risks. Your concerns are noted; you may return to your post."
For a second it looked like he would refuse. Then his cheek twitched, and he pushed off of Pahli's chair.
His back was unnaturally stiff as he drifted back across the bridge.
There was a delicate cough at Pahli's side. "Commander... are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"You have objections, too, Ahmar?"
"Yes-the same ones Lieutenant Cyrilis has, as a matter of fact. Plus one more: some of his fears are going to make a lot of sense to the crew."
"Yes-the same ones Lieutenant Cyrilis has, as a matter of fact. Plus one more: some of his fears are going to make a lot of sense to the crew."
"I think his reaction would depend on whether he sees this as a threat to Hasar. Don't forget, sir, that his loyalties aren't to nebulous concepts like world peace, out strictly to his nation."
"True." Pahli thought for a moment. "All right, try it this way. If we succeed in uniting the Susa's crew into a single mind, consider what kind of warship she'd become. Instant communication between spotters and gunners, wounded and medics, officers and crew-half of all ECM equipment is designed to disrupt either scanners or intraship communication, you know. The Susa would be unbeatable by anything even twice her size."
Slowly, Ahmar nodded. "Makes sense. Yes. Yes, I think that's the way to sell it."
"Okay. Get busy and come up with a list of advantages that'll satisfy even the diehards. I want the whole crew behind me by the time the Drymnu gives us his answer. And get someone busy figuring out what sort of safe-guards well need on computer files, navigation equipment, and such to make sure the Drymnu doesn't get even a hint of Kohinoor's location."
Ahmar smiled wryly. "Good idea. The diehards will insist on that."
"Diehards be damned-I insist on it."
Ahmar sobered. "Yes, sir." Turning back to his board, he got to work.
Twenty minutes later, the Drymnu agreed to the experiment.
"I'm sorry, Madame Jalal, but you understand we can't give out information on the activities of our ships," the young junior lieutenant said, his face as glacially impersonal as his words.
Out of the phone's vision range Narda made a fist of frustration. "I realize that, Lieutenant," she said in her calmest available voice. "But my husband's never been so overdue before and I'm beginning to get worried. Can you at least tell me whether or not you've been in contact with the Susa in the past two months?"
"I'm sorry, but all military communications of that sort are classified."
This was getting her nowhere. "I see. Thank you," she said, and broke the connection.
For a minute she just sat there as ghosts and unnamed fears swirled up around her. The "classified communications" fable didn't fool her for a minute-Command didn't know where the Susa was, either.
The world wavered as tears came to her eyes. If Pahli were lost, it would be her own fault. Those thoughts she'd had, and all those surreptitious glances at Mehlid the artist-she was being punished for them now.
Abruptly, she brought her fist down hard on the table. "Stop it!" she snapped aloud to herself, breaking the circle of fear and self-reproach. The universe didn't work that way, she knew-cause and effect were seldom so neatly tied together. The Susa was simply behind schedule; having mechanical trouble, perhaps. Pahli would come back home soon, and when he did all her fears would seem silly. In the meantime, she might as well put all this nervous energy to work. The house needed a thorough cleaning, for starters.
seldom so neatly tied together. The Susa was simply behind schedule; having mechanical trouble, perhaps. Pahli would come back home soon, and when he did all her fears would seem silly. In the meantime, she might as well put all this nervous energy to work. The house needed a thorough cleaning, for starters.
Pahli finished the latest report and turned off the reader. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he asked, "How are they this morning?"
"Davaran's still fine, though not showing any measurable telepathic or empathic abilities," Ahmar told him.
"Tavousi's still hemorrhaging, but he's stable and occasionally conscious."
"Still telepathic?"
"Yes. The drug's effect seems permanent."
Pahli grunted. "Then we're back to square one again: too little of the drug doesn't do anything, and too much starts the brain bleeding."
"Well... the Drymnu hasn't quite given up on this one yet. There's a modification he and the medics are working on-replacing a section of one of the amino chains with a different one, I think. If the Drymnu's right it'll give the drug an extra anti-hemorrhagic effect; I don't know how. It should be ready to try this afternoon."
"I don't know." Pahli traced the edge of the disk reader control panel with his finger. "Maybe we should just give up and go home. We've lost four men already, and all we've gotten in exchange is proof that the human brain has latent telepathic abilities. And we learned that in the first three weeks. The past three months have been a complete bust."
Amazingly, Ahmar chuckled. Frowning, Pahli looked up. "What's so funny?"
"You are, sir. You're starting to think in hive mind types of timeframes, as if we could already work at top efficiency. Four months and we've only proved man is telepathic?"
Pahli had to smile. "I see what you mean. I guess things went so fast right at the beginning that I lost perspective. All right, we'll take another shot with this drug. Let me know when there are any results."
The commander would later liken that day to the first punch-through in an enemy battle front, the stroke which enables unraveling maneuvers to be started in all directions. By mid-afternoon the modified drug had been synthesized and given to the first two volunteers; three hours later the dosage was doubled, and soon afterward tripled. The telepathic ability showed up in late evening, and by morning of the next day both test subjects could pick up surface thoughts at will from anyone on the Susa. Twenty-four hours later the telepathy was still present and none of the usual cerebral hemorrhaging had begun. The dosage was increased still further, and within another ten hours the drug had reached saturation level, at which point further injections were simply excreted. No physiological problems whatsoever could be detected...