“Yes.” Charban nodded toward the star display. “And what would they not want to tell us?”
The potential answers to that question were almost infinite. Geary shook his head once more. “If they think in patterns, as you and Dr. Shwartz suggested, they might be seeing a pattern they don’t want to tell us about. What kind of questions are they being asked?”
“All sorts of things. Basic information about themselves, about other alien species, scientific and technical questions, what they know of us, and how long they’ve known of us.” Charban shrugged. “Pick your possible secret.”
“But the experts disagree with you?”
“Yes. Except Dr. Shwartz. She listens. I don’t know if she agrees, but she’s reserving judgment.”
Geary caught Charban’s eyes. “Tell me your gut feeling. When we take the Dancers back with us to Alliance territory, should we regard them as a potential danger?”
“My gut feeling, Admiral, is that they’ve already been to Alliance space, that they’ve been watching us for a long time. If they meant to harm us, as the enigmas did, I believe they have had opportunity. Instead, I think they have been studying us. They—” Charban broke off speaking, showing dawning realization. “That could be it. If they’ve been watching us, they may have seen a pattern. Something involving us. A pattern or patterns that are still playing out.”
An odd sense of cold ran down Geary’s back. “Something they see coming. Something they don’t want to tell us.”
“It could be.” Charban spread his hands. “Telling us might change the pattern. Change what we do and how we do it.”
Geary leaned forward and adjusted the view of the star field, expanding it to include all of human space. “We know what’s happening to the Syndicate Worlds right now. We know some of the strains the Alliance is under.”
Charban nodded slowly. “And we know that pattern from human history. Great empires, powerful alliances, grow and flourish, then weaken and fall. And afterwards, cultural and political fragmentation, wars, declines in population, standards of living, scientific progress, and much else.” His smile now seemed wan and tentative. “I would not wish to tell any friend of mine that sort of prophecy for their future.”
“They don’t know us, General. Not that well,” Geary said, scarcely noting that he had referred to Charban’s old rank rather than his current position as emissary. “Patterns can change. They can be altered.”
“They can.” Charban laughed. “Is that the Dancers’ secret? They believe they know what we should do, but if they tell us, it will change what we do? Or they do not know what we will do but do not wish to influence our actions? The Observer Effect, applied to relations to alien species.”
“The Observer Effect?”
“Sort of an offshoot of Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle and Schrödinger’s cat.”
“I see,” Geary said in the way that conveyed that he didn’t, in fact, see at all.
This time Charban smiled. “A dissolute youth spent partly in the realms of physics left me with bits of knowledge. Basically, the Observer Effect says that the act of observing something alters the outcome. It’s been proven in physics. Even with particles like photons. If you’re watching them, they act differently. It’s very strange, but it’s true. Social scientists still debate whether that concept also applies to their work. But if the Dancers believe that what they tell us can change what we do, they might be slow-pedaling communication for just that reason.”
“That could be.” Geary gave Charban a questioning look. “The Dancers might have been watching us for a long time, watching us fight that war for the last century. But they only intervened very recently, during the battle with the enigmas at Midway Star System.”
“The difference is that now we know we’re being observed,” Charban said. “However long they have been watching us, we weren’t aware of it before. Once we came to them, arriving in a star system where their ships were, that fundamental fact changed.”
“That could be it,” Geary agreed. “Or is that too simple an answer? Keep doing your best to find out.”
“I always do my best, Admiral.”
As Charban got up and turned to go, Geary stopped him. “Emissary Charban, if you had received secret orders from the government, would you tell me?”
Charban looked Geary in the eyes and nodded. “I wasn’t sent to do anything to mess you up, Admiral. I think I was sent in the expectation that I would mess things up thanks to my lack of political experience and my disillusionment with the ability of weaponry to resolve issues short of genocide.”
“If they expected you to just cause trouble for me, you’ve exceeded expectations in the right way as far as I’m concerned.”
The emissary grinned. “It’s not so hard to do when the bar is set so low.”
“In this fleet, it’s harder to set the bar lower than politician,” Geary said. “I wish more people would realize how much someone like Victoria Rione has contributed to what we’ve achieved. And how much someone like you has contributed.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” Charban shook his head. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be a politician. I thought I wanted to do that, but after working with the Dancers, I want to continue doing that a lot more.”
“I’ll do my best to see that you are allowed to continue doing that. Who would have guessed that a career leading ground forces troops would have suited you so well for dealing with different sorts of minds?”
Charban, halfway out the hatch, turned and smiled again. “My career involved a lot of interaction with the aerospace forces, and the fleet, and Marines. If you want to talk about different sorts of minds, all of those were good practice for trying to understand alien ways of thinking.”
The hatch closed behind Charban, and Geary turned back to his work. Results of fleet mess facility cleanliness inspections. Ancestors help me. Even at the best of times, concentrating on that kind of important but tedious matter was difficult. Right now… “Emissary Rione, are you free to talk?”
“Your place or mine?” her image asked as it appeared near his desk.
“This is fine.” For once he didn’t have to be too worried about someone’s intercepting a conversation. “How is Commander Benan?”
“Sedated.”
“Uh…”
“And you’re wondering why I’m not in tears of despair because my husband is under sedation?” she asked. “Because being sedated is the best condition he can be in right now. It keeps him out of trouble, and to be honest, which I know is unusual for me, he’s a lot easier to handle that way these days. And we are on our way back, where, one way or another, we will be able to deal with his condition.”
He regarded Rione’s image, wondering exactly what she meant by “deal with his condition.” To say that she wanted both Benan cured of his mental block and vengeance against whoever had ordered that mental block was to put it mildly. Even after the months he had known her, Geary was still not certain just how far Rione would go to accomplish something she had resolved on. He did know he wouldn’t want to be someone she had resolved to go after. “I promised to get that block lifted, and I will.”
“You’ll threaten the Alliance grand council if necessary? No, you don’t have to promise to do that. I’ll threaten the grand council, and they’ll know I mean it. Were you just calling to see how I was feeling?”
“Partly,” he said. “But I wanted your opinion of the leaders of Midway now that we’ve had a week away from them.”
“You mean Iceni and Drakon, or others as well?” Rione asked.