“If we knew the answer to that, we’d be a lot less worried.” This time Rebka’s outstretched finger actually touched the councilor’s chest. “I don’t understand your logic here. Taking an extra ship along will cost the Council a negligible amount.”
“Cost nothin’, you mean.” Nenda jerked a thumb toward the silent Cecropian. “At an’ me, we’ll fly the Have-It-All in scout position for free.”
“Even better. Councilor, are you listening? You have somebody willing to fly on ahead of the Pride of Orion, to make sure that there are no problems waiting. “Hans Rebka gave Nenda a quick sideways glance at that point—the offer to lead the way into possible danger sounded a little too good to be true—but he went on, “A lead scout is in everyone’s best interests.”
“It would not be right to ask Mr. Nenda and Atvar H’sial to expose themselves to risks not borne by the rest of us. In any case, we will have a special group of humans on board the Pride of Orion, with unique training in survival techniques. The inter-clade council insists on it.”
“Oh yeah? Training acquired where? Sitting on their asses on one of the cushy worlds of the Fourth Alliance? If you took ’em to Karelia—”
“—or to Teufel.”
Nenda glared at Hans Rebka. “Hey, Captain, we’re not competin’ on this one.” He turned back to Graves . “Take ’em to Karelia or Teufel, an’ the locals’d eat ’em for supper an’ spit ’em out with the pits.”
“I have no reason to question the survival team’s competence. They were trained under the direct supervision of Arabella Lund, whom I happen to know personally. And I do not want you to take unnecessary risks.”
“Fine. You’re not askin’ me an At to do that. We’re askin’ you. An’ we’re not offering miracles. If there’s trouble on the way, all we’ll give you will be a few minutes of warning.”
The argument went on and on. But Hans and Louis had finally won. The proof of that was the presence on the expedition of the Have-It-All, which had already made its next Bose transition. Darya stared hard at the screen, seeing nothing but knowing that the node entry point for the Pride of Orion could be no more than a few minutes away. One advantage of this ship’s curious structure was the existence within its hull of scores of private chambers where a person could retire with her thoughts and hide away from others. Each room had access to the Pride of Orion’s external viewing sensors, and what Darya wanted to see on the display was the reassuring beacon of the Have-It-All as soon as their own ship completed its transition.
Crossing the Gulf was nothing like normal interstellar travel, where you were always comforted by the sight of nearby stars that might send help if your superluminal travel modes failed. Around the Pride of Orion lay only a vast sea of emptiness. The spiral arm from which they had come lay far behind. Ahead the Great Unknown of the Sag Arm sprawled across half the sky.
And within that unknown, perhaps, lay completely new Builder artifacts. Darya had not been able to focus on anything else since Julian Graves mentioned the possibility. She had rejected from Louis Nenda a suggestion that they compare notes on what they knew about the Sag Arm—"I’ll show you mine an’ you show me yours.” She had also been unable to return to her previous intimacy with Hans Rebka, and it had little to do with the fact that they had been apart for two years.
Even the delivery of what Councilor Graves clearly thought of as a warning seemed to lack reality.
That had come in answer to Hans’s protest, at the end of the first meeting. “You’re crazy if you think a handful of us can run off and in a few weeks sort out the problems of a region as big as all our territories put together.”
Graves’s forehead added a few more worry lines. “Captain Rebka, I have never suggested any such thing. Our goal is the exploration of what is happening on Marglot, and possibly an attempt to help the Marglotta. We do not expect to understand the mystery of dying worlds, or to determine the fate and future of the whole Sag Arm. However, I would be remiss if I failed to inform you of another important point concerning our journey. As you remark, we are small in numbers, even if large in experience of the Builders and their artifacts. But our expedition is as small as it is because this is viewed by the Council as a high-risk endeavor.”
In other words they don’t want to send too many of us, just in case we don’t come back. But even that thought hadn’t had as much effect on Darya as it should. Artifacts! What wouldn’t she give to see new Builder artifacts? She realized now how boring it had been for the past couple of years, sitting in her office at the Institute on Sentinel Gate and methodically recording every element of the disappearance of Builder presence. It had been like making notes on your own death.
With that thought, Darya felt within her the near-imperceptible quiver that told of impending passage into and through a Bose node. She peered at the screen, seeking that other dot of light.
And there it was, a signal beacon blinking its message. The Have-It-All was safely through, with the Pride of Orion following close behind. But the thing that made Darya catch her breath lay beyond the two ships. They had attained the far side of the Gulf. A final and short Bose transition should take them to the Marglot system. However, even before that there might be evidence of Builder artifacts.
Darya eagerly scanned the glittering starscape that filled the sky ahead. Many years of experience told her that she was probably wasting her time. Builder artifacts were infinitely varied in appearance. They ranged from apparently normal structures, like the Umbilical that ran between Opal and Quake, to the near-unfathomable space-time convolutions of the Torvil Anfract. An artifact could look like anything or nothing.
She looked anyway, swinging a high-resolution scanner across the sky. Stars and to spare—they seemed more thickly clustered than in the home Orion Arm—but nothing to hint at Builder presence.
She jumped as a voice behind her said, “Too soon, I fear.”
She turned to see E.C. Tally standing there.
“How did you know what I was looking for? And how did you know where I was?”
“The latter question is easily answered. The Pride of Orion’s central data bank contains a complete occupation directory for every chamber at all times.”
“So you know where the survival team is housed?” For whatever reason, Julian Graves had kept his team of survival specialists in seclusion.
“Of course.”
“Do you know how many of them there are?”
“There are five, all of human form. None, alas, appears to be an embodied computer. As to what you were seeking as you scanned the sky, I assume that it is what all others seem to be seeking: a first look at the Marglot system.”
“Are we close enough for that?”
“No. Nor will we be, until the final Bose transition is accomplished. However, logic is not at work here. Every being on board, in spite of known facts, stares impatiently at the screens. It is curious, but even I, who according to my designers lack circuits for the emotion known as excitement, feel a sense of impending fulfillment.”
“But you’re not staring at screens.”
“No. Logic still plays a significant part in my actions. Our final Bose transition to the vicinity of what we hope will be the Marglot system lies an hour in the future, and I have calculated that the whole system subtends less than a second of arc from our present distance. It is therefore invisible to the naked eye. I sought you out in order to ask for your assistance on something else, something for which the data banks provide no guidance.”