“—Where an effect precedes its own cause?” Gaun finished the sentence for him. “Right. That’s always been the basic reason why people have accepted the light barrier. But now that we have a demonstrable ftl drive—namely Thengets del Prou—we’re forced to come up with some explanation, be it ever so unaesthetic. For example, suppose teleportation is instantaneous—in some particular frame of reference, independent of the teleport’s motion. Then effect could be made to precede cause, but only where the interval separating cause from effect is spacelike. See—no paradoxes.”
“You’re conjecturing some kind of ‘super-luminiferous ether’?”
Gaun nodded. “Kinda sticks in your craw, don’t it?”
Not really. Bjault had spent much of his life digging physics out of libraries buried in the ruins of ancient cities; that’s why they called him an archaeologist. Yet he always dreamed of finding something that was totally new to man’s experience. “You may be right, Egr. We should ask Prou to jump test probes in different directions. If there’s an ‘ether drift,’ that—”
Gaun waved his hand airily. “Sure, Aj, we’re doing all that. But look: what we really want is to duplicate and improve upon the Azhiri trick, to build ships that can travel between the stars in days instead of decades. We’ve gotta find out what goes on inside Prou’s head when he teleports, and to do that we need a lot more equipment than some clocks and a planetary ferry. We need biophysics labs, and a few thousand top-notch specialists—things we don’t have on Novamerika.
“I want to break the ramscoop out of mothballs, and fly an Azhiri volunteer back to Homeworld, where such facilities do exist.”
Gaun seemed almost intimidated by his own suggestion. It wasn’t that they couldn’t find an Azhiri willing to spend years in cold-sleep on a trip between the stars: Prou, at least, was so basically Faustian that he’d be eager to go. But the million-ton starship that had brought the colonists from Homeworld was partially dismantled now, much of its equipment built into Novamerikan ground installations. It would take a major effort to refit the ship, and the colony would be weakened as a result. Ajão said as much to Gaun.
“I know, and that’s the real reason why I’ve come to you,” admitted the science adviser. “The Council isn’t going to like my idea one bit, and if I try to ram it down their throats like I have some things in the past, they’re gonna like it even less. But you they respect, even admire. You’re so damn diffident—and so damn right most of the time—that if you told the Council to go to blazes, they’d probably ask you the way.
“I want you to present my case to the Council. Tell them how much the colony will eventually gain again from this sacrifice. Sure, we’ll be set back a couple decades—even if we refit the starship for a minimum payload—but when the first ftl ship arrives from Homeworld, we’ll make it all back, and more. Will you tell them, Aj?”
Bjault had agreed, and when the time came, he spoke before the Council, which put the matter to a general referendum over the two-way. The vote had not been close: in less than a year’s time, Thengets del Prou, Ajão Bjault, and a dozen others would begin the forty-year voyage to Homeworld.
… But Yoninne Leg-Wot would remain here, perhaps forever unaware of what she had made possible. The thought brought him back to the present, to the hospital room, to Pelio and Yoninne. He suddenly saw that the girl’s eyes were open, and had been for several seconds. There was self-awareness in those eyes, but none of the lire and determination he had known.
“Hello,” the girl said. “My name is Ionina. Who are you?” Her voice was calm, peaceful. But she spoke in the language of the Summerkingdom, and pronounced her own name the queer, unpalatalized way Pelio did.
Bjault replied, but Yoninne said nothing more; though her eyes remained open, she seemed to lose interest in her surroundings. Pelio looked up from the girl, his face alight. “Did you hear her, Ajão! The doctors were right. She will recover!” He tried to respond to the boy’s enthusiasm, but failed. When Bjault first regained consciousness, he had asked about Yoninne. “She’ll definitely improve,” the medic had said. “I don’t see any reason why she won’t eventually be able to take care of herself, talk, even write. But most of her memory has been wiped away, and it’s possible that she will never again be able to reason at the highest levels of abstraction.”
So. Their adventure on Giri had given him the stars—and taken from her the essence of her individuality. Somehow, it hurt to think of both at the same time…
She was glad when the stranger left. She vaguely realized that he belonged somewhere in the vanished past, with all the memories, skills, and experience that had made her a different person. But that other she had suffered much, and had never really enjoyed herself. Now there was another chance.
She looked up at Pelio’s gray-green face, and took his thick hand in hers. She had lost much that was of value, but she was no fool. She knew a happy ending when she found one.
About the Author
Vernor Vinge is a four-time Hugo Award winner (for the novels A Deepness in the Sky and A Fire Upon the Deep and the novellas “Fast Times at Fairmont High” and “The Cookie Monster”) and a four-time Nebula Award finalist. He has been featured in such diverse venues as Rolling Stone, Wired, The New York Times, Esquire, and NPR’s “Fresh Air.” His most recent novel is Rainbows End.
Highly regarded by scientists, journalists, business leaders—as well as reaciers—for his concept of the technological singularity, Vinge has spoken all over the world on scientific subjects. For many years a mathematician and computer science professor at San Diego State University, he’s now a full-time author. He lives in San Diego, California.
The Witling
Vernor Vinge
A Tom Doherty Associates Book • New York
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
THE WITLING
Copyright © 1976 by Vernor Vinge Originally published in 1976 by DAW Books.
Illustrations copyright © 1986 by Doug Beekman
Map of Giri drawn by Vernor Vinge. Map copyright © 1976 by Vernor Vinge
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC 175 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Vinge, Vernor.
The witing / Vernor Vinge.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN-13: 978-0-765-30886-3
ISBN-10: 0-765-30886-X
1. Life on other planets—Fiction. 2. Human-alien encounters—Fiction. 3. Psychokinesis—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3572.I534W58 2006
813'.54—dc22 2006048189
First Tor Edition: December 2006