He said patiently, "What I hoped for was actual coordinates."
"We have them." She picked up a folder. "The exact location of more than a hundred worlds each of special significance to the Terridae." She added, regretfully, "I'm afraid there's no way of telling which is Earth."
"But surely there are references? Even if the data was coded there must be a key." He saw by her expression that she didn't understand. "Think," he said. "At the beginning the Terridae must have had some information as to the whereabouts of Earth. They would have wanted to safeguard it, perhaps, and what better way than by including it within a framework of dogma? Statements which hold an inner meaning once you know the key." He sought for an example and found it in the creed of the Original People of whom she must know. "Listen," he said, and his voice took on the muted pulse of drums. "From terror they fled to find new places on which to expiate their sins. Only when cleansed will the race of Man be again united."
"Earl?"
"From terror," he said. "That could mean 'From Terra.' Do you see what I'm driving at?"
She said, uncertainly, "Yes, I think so. It's like a riddle, but-" She broke off with a helpless gesture. "I don't know how to solve it."
A failure, but she wasn't wholly to blame. Information retrieval was a skill in itself and one she'd had no reason to develop. Dumarest looked at the files and picked one at random. A listing of data culled from ancient logs including the names of crewmen, cargoes carried, planets visited. Trivia which the Terridae held of value because it had associations with their past. Given time and dedication he would be able to discover their origins, the reason for their withdrawal from normal planetary congress, the ideals which had led them to the formation of their dream. The Event. The finding of Earth.
And he had promised to lead them.
He set down the file, conscious of the woman's stare. How long before she guessed his ignorance? How long before Volodya lost his patience? Pressures to add to the rest but ones he must ignore for the present. As he must gain the help Vera Jamil could give.
He said, smiling, "You've done wonderfully, Vera. I'm just a little stunned at all the information you've managed to accumulate. Now we have to boil it down even further to basic essentials."
"Refine it, you mean?"
"In a way, yes."
"But, Earl, if we knew where Earth was we would have gone there long ago."
The obvious, but he had an answer. "When the location was discovered the time needn't have been right. Details would need to be attended to, arrangements made, things like that. There could have been external pressures which forced a postponement. Then, as time passed, the location could have been forgotten."
"Lost?"
"No, forgotten. Haven't you ever had anything of value which you set to one side for safekeeping then had trouble remembering where you put it? Most of us have had that experience at times. That could have happened to what we're looking for now and our job is to find where it could be. The location of Earth, I mean."
It was hard to remember that she was a grown woman and not a child. Harder still to retain his equanimity when she said, "But you have the answer, Earl. Does it matter if we can't find the location in the Archives?"
"We need confirmation," he said quickly. "Earth lies in a region bounded by the patch of dust lying to the galactic north of Silus, the energy pool known as Morgan's Sink to the galactic west of Crom, and the Hygenium Vortex. Run that area through your computer and determine if any of the planets mentioned fall within those parameters."
Looking at the files she had accumulated, the product of so much labor, she said, "Earl, I'm sorry."
"For what? Trying so hard?" Reaching out he rested the tips of his fingers on the crest of her hair. "I didn't think you'd have the confirmation waiting for me. As you said, if you had the location, you'd be there now. But we'll find it, Vera. Together we'll find it."
Dumarest felt the touch and woke, instantly alert, one hand moving to snatch up his knife and to rest the point against the throat of the woman at his side.
"Earl!" Althea Hesford cringed from the threat. "Earl, for God's sake!"
"I'm sorry." Dumarest set aside the blade, looking at the woman in the pale glow illuminating the room. A nacreous shine emulated the light from a legendary moon. In it the copper sheen of her hair looked darker than it was. "You touched me," he explained. "Startled me. I just reacted."
"I only wanted to see if you were awake."
"Why?"
"To talk." She sat upright in the bed, the soft glow giving her naked flesh a silver sheen. "I couldn't sleep and you felt like a coiled spring lying beside me. You're too tense, Earl. You could have killed me just then. In a week or two, unless you ease the pressure, that could happen. Not deliberately, I'm not saying that, but by simple reflex action."
She was wrong but he didn't argue. "So?"
"You need to relax. If you don't want to take drugs then why not settle for a period of rest in a casket?"
Advice well-meant but he wasn't going to take it. "I haven't the time for that."
"You could find it. You don't have to do everything yourself. You could delegate your authority."
"And what the hell does that mean?" As she made no answer he said, more quietly, "It means you rely on others to do your work. If that is a mark of efficiency then they must follow your example and do the same. In the end you wind up with everyone delegating everything to everyone else and no one doing the actual work."
"It needn't be like that."
"No, but that's the way it happens. You should know. Once you handed authority to the Council what happened? What always happens when you delegate authority to someone else. They hung on to it. It took a near-revolution to make them yield."
To resign and hand over to others who would follow the same path:-something he didn't mention. Instead he said, "Is that why you woke me? To tell me I need to rest?"
"No! I-" Then her own tension broke and she laughed. "Put like that it sounds insane. I'm sorry, darling, I guess it's because I've something on my mind."
"Such as?"
"Vera Jamil. You know she's in love with you?"
"Is she?"
"She is and you must know it. And she isn't the only one. Earl! I'm jealous!"
"Of Vera?" Deliberately he kept his tone casual. "I need her help, Althea, and if a few kind words will get it then that's what I'll give. But she isn't in love with me. She's enamored of change. She's waking up as others are and realizing what life can be all about."
"Pain," she said quietly. "Hurt. Fear. Anger. Envy. Frustration. Rejection-you want me to go on?"
"Life," he said. "It was never intended to be easy."
"I know. You told me, life is a continual act of violence." She leaned forward to hug her knees, the mane of her hair veiling her face, the curves of her torso. "You seem to believe that."
"The spermatozoon which fertilized the egg from which you sprang fought against a billion others for the privilege. The antibiotics in your body battle endlessly against invading bacteria. Your brain was developed because you enjoyed a high-protein diet. Each mouthful of food comes from the dead. Life is what it is, woman, not what you'd like it to be."
And he was suited to live it better than anyone she knew. To fight and kill in order to survive-how many others in Zabul could do the same? Even Volodya was strong only in relation to those around him. How to hold such a man? To keep him close so as to shelter beneath his protection?
She felt the urgings of her body and was shaken by the sudden realization of the power of nature's dominance. Was this how a primitive woman had chosen her mate? Giving herself to the strongest so as to gain his favor? Bearing his children? Continuing his line?