An uncomfortable silence blanketed the chamber, suggesting that others were sharing her revelation. It was broken at last by E.C. Tally. The embodied computer was still wearing the neural cable plugged into the base of his skull. Like a gigantic shiny pigtail, it ran twenty yards back to the information-center attachment.
“May I speak?”
For once in E.C. Tally’s life, no one objected as he went on: “We have heard three distinct theories regarding the present location of the Zardalu. At least one of those theories exists in three different variants. Might I, with all due respect, advance the notion that all the theories are wrong in part?”
“Wonderful.” Julian Graves stared gloomily at the embodied computer. “Is that your only message, that none of us knows what we’re talking about?”
“No. My message, if I had only one message, would be to suggest the power of synthesis, after many minds work separately on a problem. I could never have originated the thinking that you provided, but I can analyze what you jointly produce. I said you are all wrong in part, but more important, you are all correct in part. And your thoughts provide the prescription that points us to the location of the Zardalu.
“There are components on which you all agree: the Zardalu, no matter where they first arrived in the spiral arm, would seek to return to familiar territory. Councilor Graves and J’merlia take that a little further, by suggesting the most familiar territory of all — the Zardalu homeworld of Genizee, the origin of the Zardalu clade. Let us accept the plausibility of that added proposal.
“Now, Professor Lang, Atvar H’sial, and Kallik point out that each of us was returned from Serenity close to the place from which we started.”
There was a snort from Louis Nenda. “Don’t try that on At and me. We were dumped off in the middle of nowhere.”
“With respect: you are from the middle of nowhere. You speak with disdain of the planet Peppermill, where you and Atvar H’sial arrived after transit through the Builder transportation system. But the planet of Peppermill is, galactically speaking, no more than a stone’s throw from your own homeworld of Karelia.” E.C. Tally paused. “Karelia, which could certainly be said to be in the middle of nowhere — and to which, oddly enough, you did not seek to go although it was close-by.”
“Let’s not get into that. I got reasons.”
“I will not ask them. I will continue. It seems reasonable to assume that the Zardalu, too, were returned close to the point of their origin, which would place them in the territories of the Zardalu Communion, rather than within the Alliance, Cecropia Federation, or Phemus Circle regions. Let us accept that they arrived close to an artifact in Communion territory. As Professor Lang and others have pointed out, we all arrived close to artifacts. It seems unlikely, however, that the Zardalu would have arrived exactly where they wished to be. So let us also accept the validity of Captain Rebka and Louis Nenda’s logic, that the Zardalu would have found it necessary to acquire a ship, and destroy all evidence of such acquisition.
“Let us agree with Professor Lang, that if such a ship were required to make more than one or two jumps through the Bose Network, that would have been noticed.
“Finally, let us agree that Genizee, wherever it is, cannot be in a location that is fully explored, and settled, and familiar. Preferably, the location ought to be difficult to reach, or even dangerous. Otherwise, the Zardalu homeworld would have been discovered long ago.
“Put all this information together, and we are left with a well-defined problem. We want a place satisfying these criteria:
“One: it should be a planet within the territories of the Zardalu Communion.
“Two: it should occupy a blank spot on the galactic map, little-explored and preferably hard to reach.
“Three: it should be within one or two Bose Transitions of a Builder artifact.
“Four: the only Builder artifacts that need to be considered are ones where an unexplained ship disappearance has taken place since the return of the Zardalu to the spiral arm.
“That leaves a substantial computational problem, but each of you already performed part of the work. And fortunately, I was designed to tackle just such combinatorial and search problems. Look.”
The lights in the chamber dimmed, and as they did so the figures of the Zardalu simulation vanished from the central display region. In their place was total darkness. Gradually, a faint orange glow filled an irregular three-dimensional volume. Within it twinkled a thousand blue points of light.
“The region of the Zardalu Communion,” E.C. Tally said, “and the Builder artifacts that lie within it. And now, the Bose access nodes.”
A set of yellow lights appeared, scattered among the blue points.
“Eliminating the artifacts where there were no unexplained ship disappearances” — two-thirds of the blue lights vanished — “and considering only little-explored regions within two Bose Transitions, we find this.”
The single orange region began to shrink and divide, finally leaving a score of isolated glowing islands.
“These remain as candidate regions for consideration. There are too many. However, the display does not show what I could also compute: the probability associated with each of the remaining regions. When that is included, only one serious contender remains. Here it is. It satisfies all our requirements, at the ninety-eight-percent probability level.”
All but one of the lights blinked out, leaving a shape like a twisted orange hand glowing off to one side of the display.
“Reference stars!” It was Julian Graves’s voice. “Give us reference stars — we need the location.”
A dozen supergiants, the standard beacon stars for the Zardalu Communion portion of the spiral arm, blinked on within the display volume. Darya, trying to orient herself in an unfamiliar stellar region, heard the surprised grunt of Louis Nenda and the hiss of Kallik. They must have been three steps ahead of her.
“I have the location.” E.C. Tally’s voice was quiet. “That was no problem. But what the ship’s data banks do not contain, surprisingly, is navigational information. I have also not yet found image data of this region. However, it has a name. It is known as—”
“It’s the Torvil Anfract.” That was Nenda’s flat growl in the darkness. “And you’ll never get image data, not if you wait till I grow feathers and fly.”
“You know the region already?” E.C. Tally asked. “That is excellent news. Perhaps you have even been there, and can provide our navigation?”
“I know the place — but only by its reputation.” There was a tone in Nenda’s voice that Darya Lang had never heard before. “An’ if you’re talking about me takin’ you into the Torvil Anfract, forget it. You can have my ticket, even if it’s free. As my old daddy used to say, I ain’t never been there, and I ain’t never ever going back.”
THE TORVIL ANFRACT
I wish that I understood Time, with a capital T. It’s no consolation to realize that no one else does, either. Every book you ever read talks about the “Arrow of Time,” the thing that points from the past into the future. They all say that the arrow’s arranged so things never run backward.
I’m not convinced. How do we know that there was never a connection that ran the other way? Or maybe sometimes Time runs crosswise, and cause and effect have nothing to do with each other.