“Provided,” agreed Star Wing, and activated a projector.
A hulking form sprang forth. Hanno’s immediate thought was of a rhinoceros. Granted, the resemblance was faint and fanciful, like comparing a man to a caterpillar. The body was of minor interest in any case, except insofar as it was the matrix of mind, of spirit.
“Y-yes,” he ventured, “they’re from a big planet too, aren’t they? I daresay they see just enough cultural similarity here to themselves that they may reap a harvest of ideas from the differences.”
Yukiko’s eyes shone. “When will they come?”
“Their message is that they wished to spend a few years at the rendezvous first, studying and thinking about the data,” Lightfall imparted. “That is usual, to take advantage of facilities that no vessel can accommodate. Doubtless they are on their way at this moment. Since they are accustomed to high accelerations, they should arrive just a few months later than their announcement that they have set forth.”
“Several years yet, then.” Yukiko smiled. “Time to prepare a festive reception.”
“Do they travel by the same doctrine as you?” Hanno Inquired.
“Yes,” Lightfall answered, “which we recommend you also adopt.”
“I’m thinking about it. We’d need some basic modifications hi our ship, you know.”
“More in your thoughts.”
“Touche!” Hanno laughed. “Conceded, we are impatient parvenus.”
The Alloi did not boost continuously between stars. They got close to tight speed, then went on free trajectory, using centrifugal weight. The saving in antimatter allowed huge hulls, with everything that that implied. The price was that time dilation became less. A journey that might have been accomplished in ten shipboard years would take perhaps twice as long; and the farther you went, the larger the factor grew. All voyagers were ageless, but none escaped from time.
The practice accounted for observers at Sol never having picked up sign of starcraft. Enormous though the energies were, radiation was only at beginning and end of a passage, a candle-flicker; and starcraft were very few.
“Perhaps you do yourself an injustice,” suggested Volant.
“Perhaps your hastiness will fill a need we older spacegoing races did not know we had. You may go beyond this tiny segment of the galaxy that we have reached, from end to end of it, in less than a million cosmic years. You may be those who weave it together.”
Yukiko’s hands fluttered. “No, no. You honor us far beyond what we deserve,”
“Let us abide the future,” flowed from Star Wing: the patience of ancientness. These beings had left Pegasi fifteen thousand years ago; no individual lifetime of theirs was shorter than half of that. They knew of explorations that had been going on, in other directions, a hundred times as long.
“Well, this is ... wonderful,” Hanno said. Glancing at Yukiko: “Maybe you can find words, dear. I’m dumbstruck.”
She caught his hand. “You brought us here. You.”
They had become able to sense when AHoi turned grave. “Friends,” Lightfall told them, “you must make certain decisions among yourselves. Soon after the—(?)—arrive, we will leave.” Through shock and suddenly racketing pulse, they gathered: “You may remain if you desire. They will be rapturous at meeting new members of the fellowship. You can help them, and they help you, to know Xenogaia and its awarenesses, quite likely even more than you and we have helped each other. Everything that we have built in this system shall stay for your use.”
“But, but you go away?” Yukiko stammered. “Why?”
Stalky limbs traced symbols. Membranes quivered; opalescences ran over them. The declaration was calm, inexorable, and maybe, maybe regretful. “We have spent more than four centuries at Tritos. I believe you realize that was partly because of what we had detected from Soclass="underline" our hope, which was fulfilled, that we could call travelers from there to us. Meanwhile we explored these planets and above all the diverse Me-ways, histories, achievements, horrors, glories of the sentients on Xenogaia. It was effort richly rewarded, as we foreknew it would be. Another whole concept of the universe opened for us. Something of what we learned has entered our inwardness.
“And yet you humans, in your decade and a half, have gathered more than we imagined was there. It happens your home world, your evolution, more closely resembles theirs. Nature has better prepared you to comprehend them.
“For our part, we found ourselves drawn to you as never to them. You too are the kind of beings who reach for the stars.
“We could stay here till this sun begins to die, and not discover all that there is to discover; for it is so much, and always changing. Life is a rare thing, sapience more seldom yet. Why, then, will we not linger?
“It is that we hope for more than we have gained here; and we know that if we seek long enough, we shall find it.”
Hanno had nothing but merchant words. “I see. You’ve gone past the point of diminishing returns. Your best strategy is to start fresh.”
As it seemed mother civilizations did not, could not.
“Will you go on to Sol?” Yukiko asked unsteadily.
“Someday, perhaps,” Star Wing conveyed.
“Likelier not,” Quicksilver asserted. “I think that what you have revealed to us will suffice—for they have been evolving onward.”
“Let Sol and Pegasi communicate,” Volant scoffed.
“No, you are too impetuous, and too thoughtless of our friends,” Lightfall admonished. “We have years ahead of us in which to consider.” To the mimans: “You too, with your kindred down on the planet, you must take thought. Do you wish to commence at once?”
Hanno and Yukiko traded a look. Mutely, she nodded. After a moment, he did likewise. They bowed, one of many motions that had gradually acquired eloquence, and went from the coralline room.
A passageway took them along the great curve of the ship. Past the part of it that was alive stretched, today, a simulated vista of ruddy hills, lean crags, fronds rippling around a frozen pool, beneath a violet-blue sky where rings arched tike undying rainbows—a world the AJloi had once come upon and found beautiful, for it was much as their mother world was before the machines. They had left colonists.
Beyond lay a room of exercise equipment made for the humans. It could be spun through a hollow ring around the hull to provide higher weight. Thus did they maintain a physical condition that allowed them to visit the planet without being too badly handicapped in relation to those who lived there.
Farther on was their home section, Yukiko’s little garden, a post upholding the model of a caravel that Hanno had once constructed, the compartment that housed them. Air inside it remained thin and dry, but it was warm and to their eyes the lighting was pure white.
The three rooms held their possessions, a few carried from Earth, more that were remembrances of their years here, but there was no clutter. He kept his sailor’s tidiness, she her basic austerity. Opposite the electronic complex a calligraphic scroll hung above a low table where a bowl of water contained a single shapely stone.
They removed their outer garments. “Shall I make tea?” she proposed.
“Do, if you like.” His face drew taut. “I want to call plan-etside now.”
“Well, it is tremendous news, but we shall have to talk about it over and over—”
“In person. We’re going down and stay a while, you and I.”
“That will be very welcome,” she sighed. “Yes, I admit I’ll enjoy some unfaked shirtsleeve outdoors, a sea, a salt wind.”