They could have had physical enhancement, or used powered suits that augmented their muscles, or a hovercraft, or any number of technical means, and not been so bothered by the climb. Both he and Sage had chosen not to do so for the same reason: boring. A common interest that set Sage more at ease with him, and gave them something to talk about while they descended to Medio’s ragged Tierra Aspera, the name of the vast, mountain-covered continent they landed on.
While studying the sky through the dense canopy overhead, Sage said, “The sun’s nearing the horizon. How much farther do you think we have to go to reach the mountain top?”
Trajan queried the satellite network with his mindlink. A person named Persephone—some people who chose to have their minds dumped to computer enjoyed disseminating information for people still in the flesh—replied with a cheerful voice, Two hundred seven point six three five meters.
“Oh, about two hundred eight meters gain left.”
Sage laughed. “I—I was asking your opinion, not one based on a satellite measurement.”
He asked about her stuttering on the flight down, and had his suspicions answered—she was in a body that did not offer the usual easy control of emotions. Like humans of old, she did have some level of adaptability. He noticed that her stuttering was slowly diminishing as she became more comfortable with him, but it still showed up in times when she was most unsure of herself. “Well, I’m not that good at judging those kinds of things.”
“I can see why.”
He chuckled. “Come on, let’s find a way around this log. And I won’t use the mindlink. I promise!” He reached out for her hand.
She briefly studied his offering, and then placed her small hand into his palm. Her touch was damp from sweat, but warm and comfortable.
He led her to the right, enjoying the springy soil beneath his feet, the musty, yet fresh smell of the air, and all the tiny squeaks, pops, yips and chirps of the abundant wildlife.
“So,” Trajan asked, “what have you been doing professionally?”
“Early in my years, I flew out to Andromeda, and got involved in the Galaxy Project.”
Trajan could have accessed the information via the mindlink, but deferred. “That’s the new galaxy being built in orbit around Andromeda, right? Called Rebirth.”
“Yes,” she said with a quiet, almost sad voice. “I spent a lot of time aboard galaxyships, scooping up the rarefied matter in intergalactic space and carrying it to Rebirth’s location, a position about three hundred thousand light years from Andromeda. Most of this was being done by robots, with a few people like me overseeing the project. I controlled an entire armada!” The excitement seemed a little forced. She paused, apparently reliving the experience in her mind. “I spent millions of years collecting and moving matter.” She fell silent, save for several deep breaths.
“I recall hearing that there was some worry about the disruptive nature of such a large project.”
“Yeah, there are some weak gravitational perturbations in Andromeda, but nothing of major importance. Andromeda has already been influenced by other satellite galaxies. We felt that the end result, millions of new worlds, offset any minor effects the Rebirth would produce on its neighbors.”
Trajan nodded. “What happened after you moved all that matter?”
Sage walked quietly for a moment and brushed her hair from her lace. She said, “After creating a large black hole to serve as Rebirth’s center, and after enough matter had been placed in orbit around the massive object, we let Nature take over. In a few million years, stars formed, some huge and bright, ripping away the artificial nebulas with powerful UV fluxes and brilliant supernovae, exposing many developing stars. I thought the new red dwarfs were the most beautiful. They would last hundreds of billions of years, demonstrating that our creation would have a longevity that no person has yet seen. Some red dwarfs were protected from the bright stars’ erosive emissions by dense curtains of nebulosity. They had protoplanets orbiting them when I left.” She sighed sorrowfully, looking up at the sky.
“I’m tempted to go there myself. Why did you leave such a magnificent creation?”
“My job was done, I guess. I wanted to do more. So I got involved with the Milky Way star-mapping project. Racing to various stellar nurseries and keeping tabs on the new additions to the galactic population was more exciting, anyway. At least for awhile.” She looked at him with an expressionless face. “That’s enough of me. What about you?”
Sage seemed a little down when reliving her experiences, but he wasn’t about to press personal issues with someone he had just met. “Taking my cue from the methodical survey robots, I’ve spent most of my time adding to the Encyclopedia Intergalactica. Surveying worlds. Especially life-bearing ones. I’ve been through the Milky Way, the Magellanic Clouds, and twice to M33. M33’s an interesting place—its irregular spiral arms are maintained by expanding series of self-perpetuating supernovae. Lots of violent activity, and yet we found life everywhere. During my journeys, I befriended many intergalactic Collective Minds as we downloaded our data to them. Had some fascinating discussions, and I got to see the results of other surveys like mine. One CM just received a long-distance update on M51. I might go there one day.”
“Sounds interesting. I might have to try it for a time.”
“Yes, do so. I’ve seen some wonderful things. Biology is one of Nature’s most varied creations.” With his free hand, he pushed through the leafy shrubs that grew near the log’s tip. His fingers started burning, and he jerked his arm back. “Ouch!”
“What is it?” Releasing her grip, Sage grabbed his wounded hand and studied it.
He felt embarrassed. How could I have done something so stupid? And right when I was talking about my subject. But then, the plant was no threat. Just a little nuisance. “I got stung by this shrub. Probably some kind of acid or base.”
She reached for the medkit on her belt.
“No, don’t worry. It’s not a major thing.”
“But the pain…”
“I don’t get to feel that very often. I’m OK. It’s already fading.” He looked at the shrub’s stem and saw a dense fuzz of tiny needles. “I bet that hair is a bunch of tiny hypodermic needles.” The little acid injectors wouldn’t go through their jumpsuits’ fabric, but they weren’t wearing full body suits, and had exposed flesh.
The fallen trunk was still too thick to climb over, even this close to its end. “I guess we’ll have to cut through.” He palmed a little multipurpose robot attached to his belt. The semisentient device would clear the shrubs away quickly.
“Oh, murfle!” Sage looked stressed by something.
Trajan asked, “What’s wrong?”
“P-please don’t cut the shrubs. They’re so pretty.”
“In a few decades, they’ll be gone anyway.”
She gave him a placating grin. “I know. But they’re here now, and so am I. Let’s walk around.”
Wearing a frown, Trajan glanced down the hill. They’d have to descend many hard-earned meters to get to the base of the shrubbery. But she was right—there was an implied minimum interference policy when visiting alien worlds in person. Leave things as they were for others to enjoy—even if the next visitors wouldn’t arrive for a half million years. One never knew.
“OK,” he said. He reached for her hand. “Let’s keep each other from sliding.”
She smiled as she grabbed his hand. Her dark eyes glittered cheerfully under the diffuse light penetrating the green canopy, offering a promise of what could be, and leaving him feeling warm inside. He longed for much more.
“Why wait until the stars are about to collide? Your job would have been easier, say three hundred thousand years ago, when they were further apart.” He allowed a tone of urgency in his voice.