Varnians in warmer environments are less constrained in appearance. In the presence of members of another species they will often mimic their main features, from the basic elements of endoskeleton, limb structure, and epidermal appearance, to such refinements as eye color, hair follicles, and behavioral patterns. There are no known limits to such mimicry (“Don’t judge a Varnian by the warmth of her smile”).
History: The Varnian story appears as a constant battle with racial insanity. If any species points up the distinction between intelligence and rational behavior, this is it. Archeological records, obtained by human and Cecropian workers, show that Varnian civilization went through at least five sudden and total extinctions, with subsequent slow returns from barbarism. Each collapse occurred without warning, following a long stable period of peaceful development. The estimated cycle time has been as short as forty thousand years (Second Eclipse) and as long as seven hundred thousand (Fourth Eclipse).
The loss of all but scanty records of those five disasters makes reconstruction of past events difficult; however, the spread of Varnian civilization across fourteen planets of twelve suns during three different eras proves that an advanced technology was achieved in at least those cycles.
The continuous written history of the Varnians can be traced back for twenty-two thousand years, to the time of the beginning of the Sixth Emergence.
Culture: Today’s Varnian civilization is tranquil, unambitious, and apparently stable. It has been so for thirty thousand years, with no sign of an impending sixth species-wide disaster. However, the Per’nathon-Magreeu symbiote (PM) Suggested in E. 2731 that this is no cause for complacency. It was PM’s analysis of Varnian culture that finally led to the restriction on colony size to four thousand members anywhere beyond the original fourteen Varnian worlds.
PM, in a systematic analysis of Varnian languages, noted that although there are over 140 semantic groups, languages, and local dialects in use among Varnians, none of those possesses a word meaning cynicism, self-criticism, or skepticism. They also pointed out that the basic collapse of Varnian civilization took place only [Примечание изготовителя документа: часть текста потеряна]
CHAPTER 7
Without the aid of the beacon they would never have found Louis Nenda’s ship. Darya became convinced of that as the Summer Dreamboat crept closer to it. For the past hundred kilometers they had been flying through a cloud of debris — lumps of rock, water-ice, and ammonia-ice ranging from boulders the size of a house down to pea-sized hail. Even the smaller pieces could be dangerous. The clutter scattered radio signals, too, and determining the precise location of the Have-It-All became a trial-and-error process. No wonder the beacon had been so faint.
“I don’t understand this at all,” Hans Rebka complained. “Why are there so many fragments, all so close to their ship? We’re having to avoid more and more of them.” He was at the controls with Kallik at his side. Darya had retired to the bunks, and J’merlia had been left behind on Dreyfus-27, along with a complete record of everything seen so far and instructions to explore and maybe refurbish the old mine shafts and tunnels.
“It cannot be the result of chance.” Kallik was still tracking and monitoring, using range and range-rate data to determine the trajectories. She whistled and clucked to herself as she added to the data base she had already formed. “If these fragments were in normal orbits about Gargantua, they would have dispersed, long ago, to form an extended toroidal ck-c-cloud with Gargantua at its center. Since they have not, and since physical laws have not been suspended here…” She leaned forward, her forward-facing black eyes intent on the display screen. “Ck-ck. I believe I have the explanation. Tell me if you s-s-see it also. Is not something there, another object, close to the location of the Have-It-All?”
Darya stood up from the bunk and moved forward to examine the display. Amid the diffuse reflections she saw the hint of a brighter ring of light, at roughly the computed position of Nenda’s ship.
“I see something. Hans, it’s another planetoid, right in the middle of the mess. In fact it explains why there is a mess. The whole cloud of fragments is orbiting around it, while it orbits Gargantua.”
“I ck-concur. It is the reason that they have not dispersed.”
“But it makes things more mysterious, not less.” Hans Rebka changed the contrast of the display, so that the bright circle stood out more clearly from the background. “Look at that thing. It’s tiny — a couple of kilometers across, no more. We’d never have seen it with the ordinary sort of search methods.”
“You mean it shouldn’t have enough mass to hold anything in orbit around it.”
“Right. But it does. And we’re being accelerated toward it. I’m forced to make adjustments to our own motion.”
The Summer Dreamboat was sliding through a denser froth of orbiting fragments as the body ahead of them became larger and sharper on the display.
“And look at that outline,” Darya said softly. “If that’s not a perfect sphere, it’s close enough to have fooled me.”
Kallik was busy superimposing the latest fix for the position of Nenda’s ship on the largest display screen. It became clear that the other vessel sat on or very close to the round body. The Hymenopt studied the combined image in silence for a few moments. “The Have-It-All is not moving relative to the planetoid. There must be enough ss-ss-surface gravity to hold it firmly in one position.”
Rebka turned the Dreamboat and increased the thrust.
“Kallik, do a calculation for me. Assume that thing is a couple of kilometers in diameter, and suppose it’s made of solid rock. What should the surface gravity be? I’d like a reasonable maximum figure.”
“Ah.” The Hymenopt touched four limbs to the keyboard in front of her. “A small fraction of a centimeter per second per second,” she said in a few moments, “Maybe one three-thousandth of a standard gravity, no more.”
“I thought so. But we’re experiencing that already, while we’re still fifty kilometers out! If I extrapolate all the way down, the gravity on the surface of that thing must be getting close to one gee. That’s flat-out impossible, for any material we’ve ever heard of.”
As Rebka was speaking the Dreamboat made a sudden jerking move to one side. Darya was thrown back onto the bunk. The other two saved themselves by clutching at the control panel.
“What was that?” Darya remained flat on her back as the ship took a second leap in a different direction.
“Meteorite-avoidance system.” Rebka hauled himself back into position. “I put it on automatic, because there’s so much stuff around here I wasn’t sure we’d see it all. Good thing I did. Hold on, here comes another. And another. God, they’re piling in from everywhere.”
The new jerking thrusts came before he had finished speaking, throwing him forward onto the controls. He grabbed desperately for handholds.
“Where are they coming from?” Every time Darya tried to sit up, the ship made a leap in some other unpredictable direction. There was a solid thump on the outside hull, loud enough to be frightening, and the few objects that were not secured in the galley came sailing through into the cabin and rattled around there. “Can you see them?”