As the storm of criticism of Claudius’s skepticism arose—with Hans Rebka, Louis noticed, abstaining—Julian Graves interrupted.
“We can debate reasons later. Regardless of motive, the fact remains that we were brought to the Sag Arm. We have been warned of tremendous danger. This expedition is going home with more information—and worse news—than I thought possible. I knew before we left that a second visit might be inevitable, but I did not dream that it would have such urgency. Tally, do you have more warnings to offer?”
“Not yet. May I speak? If I may be allowed to continue with the description of beetleback physiology—”
“You may not. You may listen. Immediately upon our arrival at the Orion Arm, a much larger and better-equipped party must be formed. With what we have seen and learned and now conjecture, inter-clade council approval and funding can be guaranteed. Our prompt return to the Sag Arm, and to those parts of it in particular affected by—infested by—the Masters of Cold, cannot be delayed for a moment.”
This time the wisdom of silence could not compete with the sense of outrage. Louis said, “The hell with that. Councilor, you’re forgettin’ a bunch of stuff. First, we were damn near killed, every one of us. We escaped because Ben Blesh risked his skin, an’ he nearly lost it. Look at him! You could use his face for wallpaper patterns. An we’re crawlin’ home in a ship—my ship, let me remind you—that’s been gutted an’ bashed an’ beaten ’til it’s hardly fit to be sold for scrap. An’ now you up an’ tell us we’re goin’ right back to the place that did all this.”
“My apologies. My terminology was confusing. When I spoke of our return to the Sag Arm, I was referring to the combined clades of the Orion Arm. I did not intend to imply that all those here would be included in a second expedition. In fact, I myself will not be going.”
Darya said, “But some of us will.”
“That is a true statement.” Julian Graves coughed. “I must confess that I have been less than totally forthcoming with all of you. But it was not from choice. My actions were forced on me by the instructions by the inter-clade council.” He surveyed the grimy and weary group, examining each one in turn. “We jointly possess, without a doubt, more knowledge and experience of the Builders than any similar-sized assembly of humans and aliens drawn from the whole Orion Arm. And yet we also, without a doubt, form a curiously ill-matched team. For instance, my own presence in the Dobelle system, where I first met most of you, was pure coincidence. My task at that time had nothing to do with the Builders. The next expedition to the Sag Arm will be different. It will be designed from the outset to provide complementary skills and experience.”
Darya Lang said, “But I will be going, right? I mean, this is the Builders. I’ve spend my whole life studying them.”
“You have indeed. Developments in the Sag Arm, however, seem to involve less the Builders than the Builders’ own creations.”
“But you said experience,” Darya persisted. “We have experience in the Sag Arm. Nobody else does, in any of the clades.”
“That also is a true statement. Professor Lang, perhaps you may have misinterpreted my earlier words. I said that not all this group would return to the Sag Arm. That was a perfectly accurate statement. I did not, however, assert that no members of this group would be on the second expedition.”
“If not me, then who?” Darya watched in apparent disbelief as Julian Graves nodded his head toward the end of the room, where the four survival specialists sat like a row of zombies. “You can’t mean them.”
“I am sorry, my dear professor, but that is exactly what I mean. The inter-clade council made the decision before ever we set out, that new blood might be needed. That is exactly why the initial expedition included young survival specialists. You, Captain Rebka, Atvar H’sial, Louis Nenda . . . ” Julian Graves’s wave of the hand took in most of those present in the chamber. “Yes, and me, too. We are, in the council’s view, too fixed in our perceptions. New problems, they argue, call for new ways of thought.”
It was the best news to come Louis’s way for a long time—the best news, in fact, since that long-ago moment when he and Atvar H’sial had arrived on Xerarchos and discovered how easy it was to milk the natives. But apparently Darya did not agree.
“The inter-clade council members are imbeciles.”
“Professor Lang, many of the council are friends of mine.”
“That doesn’t surprise me one bit. You tell them, if they want information about anything that happened on this expedition, they’ll have to be ready to negotiate.” Darya stood up and stared around at the others in the room. “We have to be united about this. No second expedition for us, no cooperation from us.”
She swept out of the room. Hans Rebka followed at once. Louis could not tell from his expression if he was leaving in support of Darya, or intended to try to talk her out of her anger. E.C. Tally said, “Councilor Graves, when the inter-clade council decreed that new blood would be needed, how will that affect my own situation? I can if necessary obtain both new blood and a new body.”
“E.C., I do not believe that the inter-clade council’s words are intended to be interpreted too literally.” Julian Graves rubbed his hand wearily over his bald and bulging cranium. “I did not anticipate so extreme a reaction from Professor Lang. Do any of you share her response?”
Graves seemed to be staring right at him. Louis shook his head. “We’re law-abidin’ people. Whatever the Council says, we gotta live with it.”
“Good for you, Louis Nenda. I value your sound judgment and support. Were there to be any exception to the Council’s rule, I would argue that it should be you. But now I must try to persuade Professor Lang to adopt your rational point of view.”
Graves hurried out, as Nenda picked up a gust of pheromonal laughter from Atvar H’sial. “Louis, J’merlia translated for me your exchange with Julian Graves. You almost overdid the fine art of hypocrisy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh if you like. But At, now I’ve got Graves solid on my side. We’re goin’ home to the Orion Arm, an’ we’re stayin’ there. Let’s get out of here. Tally looks about ready to start in again about his beetleback.”
Louis, accompanied by Atvar H’sial and the three slaves, started out along the upper corridor that led to the control cabin. He was almost there when Darya Lang popped out of a side chamber and stood smack in front of him, so that he was forced to stop or run into her.
“Darya, Julian Graves is looking for you.”
“I know he is. He’s a spineless traitor, and I’m avoiding him.”
“Where’s Hans Rebka?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Let’s not talk about him at all.” And then, “Do you know what Rebka told me? He said that the inter-clade council might have a point, and he needed to think about it. I mean, what is there to think about?” Darya grabbed Louis’s arm and stared into his eyes. “I can count on you, I feel sure of that without having to ask. You and I have always had this mental bond between us. Physical, too, even though we haven’t ever . . . well, you know. But on a long trip, like to the Sag Arm, I feel sure we would. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
“Of course I will.”
“I knew it. Louis, you’re an angel.” Darya put her arms around him and kissed him on the lips. “We have to make plans as to how we’re going to arrange this. It may not be easy to persuade the Council that we need to go, but I’m sure we can do it.”