Lothas leaned back in his chair. "Medp, the melding process not only makes clear to me the workings of Baxter's mind, you know that it will do the same for him. If what you say is true — as improbable as it sounds—then Baxter will have seen himself for the first time."
Medp nodded. "Possible."
"We cannot hide our motives from our own minds; to do so would cause us much pain and confusion. But, if a creature cannot see himself, do we damage it by allowing it to discover its motives?"
Medp leaned back and looked at the overhead. He then lowered his head and turned toward Lothas. "It is outside of my experience to imagine that knowledge of oneself could be damaging. But the hue-muns are also outside of my experience. Perhaps it could be damaging." Medp turned to a monitor displaying but a crescent of night-shrouded Nitola. "A more important question, Lothas, is can we live together with such creatures in peace?" Medp looked at Lothas.
"My mind thinks not."
Lothas looked at the monitor and nodded. "Perhaps Deayl is in the right." He turned to Medp. "In any event, we shall know once you obtain the information from their computers. Prepare your mission well, Medp. The future of this curious race may depend upon what you find. Our own futures, as well."
In his private quarters, Lothas reclined on his cushions and studied the hue-mun sitting nervously in the wing-backed chair. Baxter would cross his legs, uncross them, then cross them again. His eyes would dart about, then look in one direction for long, unblinking minutes. "Are you well, Baxter?"
The human raised his glance and looked at the Nitolan. "Well?" He nodded, then smiled. "Yes, and you?"
Lothas nodded. "I am well." He watched as the human's appearance altered to become calm, his motions unhurried. Perhaps this denial of the self is a means of hue-mun survival.
"What did you wish to see me about, Dimmis? Has the new meeting with the council been arranged?"
"No. Baxter, we are very different creatures from each other."
Baxter laughed. "This much even I could see."
Lothas waited for the hue-mun to quiet himself, then sat up. "I do not talk of skin, bones, shape, and size, Baxter." Lothas held up a five-fingered hand. "Our bone structures are similar, we are both carbon-based lifeforms —two eyes, two nostrils, two arms, two legs. I believe your race originated on my planet, as you must believe that my race did as well."
Baxter shrugged. "That judgment is for others to make, Dimmis. But, for myself, I believe you are what you say you are."
Lothas nodded. "There is a difference. Your thinking, Baxter; it is alien. But I can see it is alien by your own choosing. What I do not see is why. I know of no form of life that acts against its interests by choice, except yours."
Baxter frowned, then wiped a hand over his face. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." His hand came away wet. "Do you mean wars?"
Lothas shook his head. "No. We have had our own wars. Baxter. Wars can be an expression of self-interest." The Nitolan pointed a clawed finger at the human. "I talk about your thinking, and how your thinking makes you act. During the meld, among your many pains, I saw the need for your mate. Yet, when you talked with her, you made jokes; you hide the things you mean to say."
Baxter flushed. "That's my business. I would like to thank you for making the request."
"Is this what you mean, Baxter, or is this a joke? I do not understand. Understand that, to my mind, there are only a few ways that this situation can be resolved: First, we end hue-mun life on Nitola and resume control of our planet. We can do this."
Baxter blanched, then leaned forward, his elbows on the chair's armrests. "That would gain you nothing but a dead planet, Dimmis. To kill us from orbit, you will have to kill everything. If you land to kill us, then we can fight back, and we will."
Lothas nodded. "This is why my mind has not been in favor of this choice, although the minds of many Nitolans do favor it." Lothas waved a hand, dismissing the option. "Of course, I think it impossible that your race could attack and destroy mine. We have the Power. This leaves us with both races living together on Nitola, in some manner."
Baxter nodded as he exhaled a nervous breath. "I would prefer that."
"But the more we examine that course, Baxter, the more impossible it appears. We see you destroying the home planet, and this we could not tolerate. But your tribes are so divided, how could they agree to stop? I find that you do not represent all hue-muns, but only a small number. The Russian also represents only a small number. Yet, even so, you could not agree. I see that your tribes would try to use us each to gain an advantage over the other." Lothas shook his head.
"Another way is for the hue-muns to leave Nitola."
"Leave?"
"Yes. Find another planet."
Baxter leaned back in his chair and stared at Lothas. He placed a hand over his chest as he felt his heart beating, threatening to come loose of its supports. "How can we?"
"We have these ships, and we can build you more. Enough to vacate the planet."
Impossible! Baxter shook his head as he remembered that it was not his decision to make. "I don't know, Dimmis. It seems unlikely, but I will talk with my people."
"Such of them as you represent."
Baxter nodded. "Yes." He stood.
"Before you go, Baxter, you should understand that these talks with me and with the council are different in substance to us than they are to you.
"How do you mean?"
"In you I read an attitude… a desire to use this experience to gain an advantage for your race. To us, we are learning. When we know enough, the proper choice will become obvious. Such a choice is not something subject to concession or negotiation. We will see where the right is, then we shall pursue it. This right we seek is independent of either my desires —or yours."
Baxter gently rubbed his temples as he reviewed his meeting with Lothas and waited for Wyman to get back to him. State had not been pleased. The whole damned thing is falling apart. Baxter leaned back in the chair, thinking. This whole thing—it's like trying to stop the fall of mountains by stringing spools of rotting thread across the Grand Canyon.
Lothas had pointed at the dying oceans, the poison air, the sheer number of human mouths. "Still, Dimmis, we have a right to our future—and, on Earth. It is the future you committed us to. We didn't bail out and take the power with us—you did. If you had left us the power, perhaps things would have been different."
Lothas had swept the argument away with a wave of his clawed hand. "As lifeforms, you are freaks—self-destructive, murdering freaks. And what is your answer? We are only hue-mun.' You use this phrase to excuse it all. But, Baxter, this defines you as a lifeform; it defines you as flawed, unworthy. And this is how you define yourselves. "The Nitolan had leaned forward. "If we had left you the Power, there would be none of you left."
Baxter leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, then lowered his face into his hands. He had reported the talk to Wyman. "Baxter, are you insane?"
"Wyman, dammit, we both know I didn't ask for this! I knew I didn't know what I was doing, and so did you people! Now Lothas knows it, too. Wyman, you have got to get someone else up here. When Medp takes down the ship to get at the computers, what about putting a State Department mission —or something from the U.N.—on board?"
There had been a long silence, then Wyman came back on the air. "I have to talk to some people about all of this, Baxter, then I'll get back to you. One thing I can tell you now: if and when you have any more meetings with Lothas or with his council, keep your transceiver keyed and your mouth shut. We shall inform Lothas that State will attempt to deal directly with him. Understood?"