The Lambians had provided food and drink and were trying to make everyone comfortable. An officer that Hunt took to be on the commanding staff of the force now in control had explained that they were awaiting the return of the two national leaders, who wanted to meet them all personally. Meanwhile, three Lambians had been left sitting near the door, by a table where an urn containing a hot beverage of some kind had been placed. They were there to take care of anything more that might be wanted, not as guards. The room's strange mix of occupants gathered that they were definitely to consider themselves no longer captives, but guests.
Most amazing of all to the Minervans, of course, was the presence of the Giants. Although the full story would have to be recounted for Perasmon and Harzin, the Lambians who had been coming and going to check for anything that might be required or on other pretexts were unable to contain their curiosity. In return for the snippets they managed to pick up, they provided as much news from outside as was available at the present time.
Nobody knew if any message from ZORAC had played a part in causing the Cerians to divert the flight. One of the Cerian delegates, however, had recognized the danger as soon as Freskel-Gar's soldiers began taking over inside the Agracon, but he had been apprehended before he could get a warning out. However, another person whom he had told had managed to send a message to her soldier boyfriend-of all people-and checking with the Cerians had confirmed that their Presidential Office had indeed acted in response to information received via the Cerian military. She was none other than the translator that Hunt had met downstairs. Her name was Laisha. She and her boyfriend, as far as anyone could tell, had done as much to bring about the day's outcome as anyone.
Frenua Showm seemed the most moved by Laisha's story. Laisha had responded that there was something the Giants could do if they really felt they were in her debt. If the Lambians could get a connection to the boyfriend in Cerios who had alerted the Cerian authorities, would they let her introduce them to him? Hunt hadn't been able to piece together through all the clumsy language and improvised translation exactly why it was so important, but in characteristic Thurien fashion, Showm and Eesyan had gone away with Laisha and a couple of Lambians to see what could be done.
The Shapieron was moving closer in to Minerva, and the latest over the link to the shuttle, still standing outside the back of the building, was that a party headed by Shilohin was on its way down in the lander, flying under manual control. For Hunt, the news about ZORAC was like losing a personal friend. The few computer specialists who had come with the mission said they would try, but the chances of restoring it appeared next-to nonexistent. Even something like VISAR would have had little to work on with code that had been essentially randomized. It seemed that something of the same nature had incapacitated the missing probe, which had been out there all the time, engaged in some lengthy self-repair operation that its simpler structure and less severe condition had at least made possible.
Apart from those considerations, the main concern was the prospect of having to remain here. If they had indeed created a new reality, the irony now was that they seemed destined to live as a part of it. The knowledge hung heavily in the background of Hunt's mind like the funereal Lambian window drapes but he didn't feel up to dealing with it yet. It wasn't as if he were pressed for time, he told himself wryly.
With most of the more immediate questions at least partly answered, the company had broken up into talking in low voices with its own kind-Cerian and Cerian; Ganymean and Ganymean; Thurien and Thurien. Maybe it was because struggling to understand and make oneself understood was fatiguing. In Hunt's case, it meant he was limited to Danchekker, who just at that moment was polishing his spectacles. It was usually a prelude to speaking when he had been reflecting on something.
"It occurs to me, Vic, what an extraordinary book cousin Mildred would have been able to produce if she had returned for the mission. It would have had much more going for it than all those statistics and sociological observations, I would have thought… But then again, she wouldn't have had access to her market for it, I suppose. Unfortunate in many ways. You know, I would never have believed I'd ever hear myself saying this on the day you talked me into this antic, but I rather think I'm going to miss her."
"What do you mean, I talked you into? Wild horses wouldn't have held you back. And as I recall, Gregg Caldwell had more than a little to do with it as well."
"Yes, Gregg. And there's another one." Danchekker sighed and placed his spectacles back on his nose. "A lot to get used to. I think, given the alternative, I would willingly accept Ms. Mulling as part of the package if it meant returning. Is it really so beyond the bounds of possibility?"
"With no beacon for VISAR to home on, there's no way to locate us. Think of a needle in Jupiter made of hay."
"Um." Danchekker lapsed into a resigned silence. Hunt hoped Danchekker wasn't about to go off into a protracted nostalgia trip. He was still far from being up to confronting the implications fully in his own mind yet. After a minute or so, Danchekker said, "It's an intriguing thought. Right now, as we sit here, there is a Thurien out there at a Gistar, twenty light-years away, with Ganymeans on it descended from the ones who migrated from here long ago. Also, we have the Shapieron in orbit above us here. Back in our own universe, it was the Shapieron that enabled us to establish contact between Earth and Thurien. So why shouldn't it perform the same function here? You see my point. With contact to the Thurien that exists in this universe, we might be able to furnish them with enough information to create the means necessary to get us out of this situation and back where we belong."
Hunt looked at him sharply. It was a intriguing thought. Hunt had been too preoccupied with Freskel-Gar to give any thought to longer-term issues. But then, as he followed it through, he realized that there was a flaw. "But we're fifty thousand years in the past," he pointed out. "I'm not sure that the necessary know-how existed on Thurien then. In fact, I think they were still going through their period of stagnation. We could always try, of course, but I'm not sure there would even be anyone listening there."
"Um."
But Danchekker had a point nevertheless. If the means existed to make contact with Thurien, it meant that the potential was there for a joint Ganymean-human culture to come about as soon as the circumstances were propitious, without suffering the setback of Minerva's destruction and all the consequences it would engender. So, after everything, the mission was back on track, for precisely that result had been its whole purpose. The only problem was that as far as Hunt could see, it wasn't likely to happen while he was still around to see it.
A Lambian came in and informed them haltingly that the lander from the Shapieron was down in an open area not far away, and the Giants who had come with it would be arriving shortly. As the Lambian was about to leave, Eesyan and Showm were ushered back into the room, accompanied by Laisha. Eesyan nodded to Hunt in a way that conveyed it had been a worthwhile gesture, and then went with Showm to join Monchar and the two Shapieron officers. Laisha came over to Hunt and Danchekker, chuckling in the way of one who had just pulled off an enormous practical joke. "Wonderful!" she told them. "Kles was just too… how would you say?"
"Amazed?" Hunt offered the Jevlenese word.
"More than amazed. Was like his face is going to fall off. Wish you had been there. You see, all his life he has had… Interest? Fascination?"
"Okay."
"For the Giants of old. Then, to see them real… It was like in his dream. You understand?"
"I think so. " Ganymeans had been causing more than their fair share of astonishment all-round in the space of the last few years, Hunt thought. One of the other Cerians said something that Hunt didn't catch. Laisha turned away and began talking with them.