The Ophiuchi Hotline

25

Lilo-Diana hung on to the harpoon while the animal headed for the deep ocean. It reached the bottom and leveled out, still swimming strongly.

The adrenalin slowly began to wear away, and Lilo was left with the bitter dregs of defeat. She had not killed the beast, and was not likely to. She was not sure if she had even hurt it.

Eventually she let go and the whale vanished in the blue water in front of her. She floated, neither rising or sinking.

Where did she go from here? Her hand touched the intake valve on her chest. She could turn off the suit and drown quickly. Or she could rise to the surface and strike out for shore. She would probably make it with the suit lung feeding her air, but did she want to?

There was something above her.

Without knowing why, she kicked upward to meet it.

It grew rapidly—(below me now, still falling)—and made no attempt to get away from her. The shape hurt her eyes. Yellow? No, many colors—(a deeper yellow than the billowing clouds that now came into view around me, below me, another of the things like the one I had fallen into so many years before)—all colors and all shapes, contained in one shape.

Her stomach lurched, and she was falling.

I don't know how long I fell, but the question probably has no meaning. I was falling through space and time, and through my own life.

It became no longer possible to know who or where I was. Every second of my life existed simultaneously. I was—

standing on a rocky plain beneath a bright light, and knew I was on the world that used to be called Poseidon, but was now two light-years from the sun.

crying, hopelessly, with a depth of feeling never to be equaled in my life, holding the head of a dead man in my lap.

falling through the Jovian atmosphere.

facing the man called Vaffa, watching his weapon rise in slow-motion, hearing an explosion.

holding a knife in my hand, thinking about suicide.

looking at fish in a spinning, circular tank.

running through trees beneath a burning blue sun, laughing.

talking with a man named Quince in the public bath on Pluto.

sitting in a conference room at the hub of a seventy-kilometer wheel, watching a presentation from an alien race.

feeling an erect penis enter my body, with lights flashing around the walls of my room.

facing Vaffa, his gun coming up to kill me.

coming to life in a pool of yellow fluid.

five years old, holding my mother's hand as we followed the transporter carrying our possessions to a new home.

sitting in the green glow of my computer terminal, studying an interesting interpretation of Hotline data.

docking with a huge colony ship orbiting 82 Eridani. The planet was inhabited, and we would have to move on.

fording a stream in America, white water rushing around my knees.

giving birth to Alicia, my second child, on the way to the core.

holding Alicia's hand as she gave birth to my grandson.

facing Vaffa.

dying. Dying again. And again.

I recoiled from it helplessly. All moments had been now. They all vanished, leaving me confused images and almost no memory. The things I remembered were as often in my future as in my past.

It returned, that vertiginous feeling of inhabiting all my past, present, and future at one time. Again I recoiled, and this time rebounded along the four-dimensional length of that long pink worm with a million legs that was my life, from my birth to my many deaths. I was one entity, one viewpoint, one now, I traveled the whole length of my existence, backward and forward, into the future and the past.

I fell back again, disoriented, confused. I had been shown something my mind could not contain, and I felt the memories of it fading already. I existed in too many ways at the same time for me to comprehend it. My eyes would not function, or they presented me with images that my brain could not assimilate.

I don't know how long I rested in that quiet, black place I had come to. There was no time, but all my sisters were there with me. We began to see, a little. Something swam into my detached consciousness, a strange thing that I perceived without actually seeing it. Strange as it was, it was closer to familiarity than anything else around me. Suddenly I knew it was a valuable thing. It was something I had to have. (Someone was telling me I had to have it?) It belonged to them, to the Invaders, and I had to possess it.

I reached—

She remembered Cathay leaning over her, shaking her shoulders. Her head bobbed back and forth, loosely. Her eyes focused.

"...all right? What happened?"

"Did they do something to you?" It was Vaffa's voice, and Lilo smiled when she saw the genuine concern in her face. Vaffa, Vaffa, there's hope for you yet.

"Who is that?"

"That's me," Lilo said, and sat up. It was Javelin who had asked the question, and Lilo had known what she was talking about. She had seen this moment during the kaleidoscope that had overcome her while the Trader siren wailed. She looked at the new occupant of the room—a tall, brown woman, dripping wet—and they nodded at each other. There was no need for any words between them. They had both been here before.

She was holding something in her hand, a silvery cube five centimeters on a side.

"Who are you?" Vaffa asked.

The woman looked curiously at Vaffa.

"I guess you can call me Diana, to avoid confusion. It's what everyone else called me."

The word sparked a fresh cascade of memories in Lilo's mind. She tried to hold them, but they were fading like a dream. A long trip, a fantastic trip, ten years of walking... hardships met and conquered... tall trees, huge trees that reached to the ceiling—no, that was from her own lifeline. She tried again to remember. There was another Lilo out there, on the runaway moon. She had been forced forward in time to her own death, three deaths and backward to many more... hadn't she? She was no longer sure. But something was guiding her steps still, some knowledge of how things would be, of how they had been.

"Let's get out of here," Lilo said.

"What?" Javelin couldn't believe what she heard. "I've got a lot of things I want to—"

"No. It's no use. Just one question," she said, looking at William. "What's that thing in my... in her hand?"

William looked sad.

"That," he said, "is a singularity. Things are going faster than we expected."

"And what is a singularity?"

He shrugged. "I wish we knew. If we did, we would be the equals of Invaders. We call it that because it violates basic laws of the universe. We think it might not exist in our universe, at least not in the normal way. What you see is just a nullfield that covers the thing itself. You'll never see any more than that."

"And what does it do?" Lilo felt dizzy. She had known the answers to the questions she was asking.

"It seems to remove the inertia from a body. Don't ask me how. We've studied them for millions of years and we don't know how it works. We think it might convert inertia to some other property of matter and store it in a theoretical hyperspace, or fifth dimension."

"Without all the double-talk, you're saying it's a space drive," Javelin said.

"The basis for a space drive. When you learn to use it, which will be very soon, you will be able to reach high speeds very quickly, and with very little fuel. The stars will be in your reach."

"I stole it," Diana said, proudly.

"Hmmm?" William glanced at her. He seemed distracted. "Indeed? You stole it, you say? Wonderful. You seem to have put one over on the Invaders."

Diana looked proud for a moment, then uncertain. Lilo felt sorry for her. She already had some notion of what had actually happened.

"I didn't, did I?" Diana said.

"No. It's part of the pattern which will culminate in the extermination of what remains of your species in the Solar System, other than the remnants on your home planet. The singularity will reproduce itself. It may even be a living creature. I won't pretend that we know much about it, but we use them, like everyone else."

"But why did they give it to us?"

"I don't know their motives. But they don't seem to wish to kill entire species. They didn't kill anyone on Earth, you remember, not directly. Nor did they hunt down the survivors on Luna. They let you live until you started bothering them. Now they are giving you another chance to spread yourselves to the stars; I don't think they care if you take it, but the chance is always offered."

"Then they do care about humans."

William frowned. "Who knows what they care about? They've not seemed unduly concerned about the hardships of my race. That singularity may seem miraculous to you, and to me. To them, it is probably the same level of technology as the chipped-stone cutting tool."

Cathay was still looking back and forth between the two Lilos.

"Will someone tell me what the hell's going on?" he said. "Who is she, and where did she come from?"

"You don't recognize me?" Diana asked. "Can I have changed that much? The last time you saw me, I was falling into Jupiter."

"But where have you been... I mean, how did—"

"She was returned by the Invaders," William said. "They simply bent her lifeline back on itself. From the strength of our preliminary indications, she went several thousand years into the future, spent ten years on Earth, and was returned here. It was as easy for them as connecting two dots with a line would be for you."

Lilo was getting impatient.

"Can we go now? I can answer most of your questions when we get back to the ship."

"Yes, yes," William said. "If you want to leave, then go. We'll have to rearrange some of our plans, of course. We expected something like this, but not so soon. And not in our own backyard. It's very disturbing. Think about what we told you. It still stands, but you don't have as much time as we thought you did."

"We never even got to see the inside of their big ring," Cathay grumbled. "All we saw was an artificial construction."

"A stage set," Vaffa suggested.

"Whatever. Something they whipped up to make us feel at home."

Javelin was looking out Cavorite's glass dome at the wheel. "I think they didn't want us to see inside."

Vaffa looked up. She had been brooding since they returned to the ship over an hour ago. She had listened silently as Diana told her story, and as Lilo tried her best to fill them in on the things she had learned, and how she had learned them. Halfway through her story, Lilo realized she was not getting it across to them. Javelin and Cathay were looking frankly skeptical, though it became plain that neither of them had any better explanation for the events they had observed. Javelin had advanced the theory—as diplomatically as possible—that Diana was an impostor, someone made by the Traders for reasons known only to themselves.

Lilo and Diana had not bothered to refute the accusation, and it soon died of its own weight. No one could think of a reason why the Traders would need to infiltrate humans so obviously. The question that continued to trouble them was, why did the Traders need to ask for human culture? Weren't they strong enough to take it?

The tentative conclusion was reached that they should wait and see. They knew nothing about the process the Traders intended using to obtain human culture. They knew little about Trader capabilities of any kind.

"What are we going to do?" Vaffa asked. "I'll admit it. I've never been as confused as I am right now."

"What do you mean?" Javelin asked. "Do about what?"

"About... everything! All those things they told us. Do you all believe them?"

Javelin looked helplessly at Lilo and Diana, genuinely puzzled. "What's got her so upset? Do you know what she's talking about?"

"Ah... probably she's concerned about... you know, the trouble that's going to be coming up."

"Trouble?" Vaffa squeaked. Her voice was getting dangerously shrill. "Trouble? You call the end of the Eight Worlds 'trouble'? That is what's going to happen, isn't it? Didn't I hear it right?"

"Yes," Lilo said. "That's what they said."

"Well..." She froze for a moment, mouth open, her hands suspended in a desperate grasping pose before she slapped them down to her knees. "Am I the only one who cares about it?" She looked around the group, finally settling on Javelin.

"Why pick on me?" Javelin said, slightly uncomfortable. "Sure, I don't like the idea of so many people dying. But they'll have a chance to get away, the Traders said that, too. All they have to do is take it. As for the 'Eight Worlds'..." She made a rude noise. "Why should I care? I'm not a citizen."

Vaffa looked to Cathay. He shrugged. "Do something, you said, right? Listen, I'll go right home and polish up my sword. Then it's you and me—I can count on you, can't I?—back to back and shoulder to shoulder against the Invaders—"

"Oh, shut up," Vaffa said. She looked at Lilo, and so did everyone else.

"It's going to happen," Lilo said, quietly, and Diana was nodding her agreement. "I'm sorry to admit this... but I don't really care. I don't love the government any more than Javelin or Cathay. Or you, Vaffa. You're dedicated to throwing it out and putting the Boss back in. But it doesn't matter. It's going to happen, that's one thing I'm sure of. I guess you people don't believe us, but we really did see into the future, at least as far as our own lives go. Many people are going to die. The Invaders will wipe out anyone who remains in the solar system."

"That doesn't bother you?" Vaffa asked.

"I..." Lilo was a little concerned about that, herself. But the answer was clear. "No. It's like... like it's already happened. I've already seen it. We can go back and add our story to what the Traders are already broadcasting, do our best to convince people to get out. But many won't. And that's the most we can do. It's inevitable."

But Vaffa could not accept that. Lilo looked at her, closed her eyes and tried to remember her. There was a change coming, she was sure of it. Vaffa was about to overcome her limitations—was she Tweed's child? Lilo seemed to recall that Vaffa would eventually tell her that. But she was no longer sure of much about the future. There were bits and pieces that usually did not fit together. She knew Vaffa was now wondering if she had done her job well for the Boss. But at the same time doubt had crept into her mind. Diana's story had impressed Vaffa more than anyone. For the first time, she saw the Invaders as real things, not as cardboard enemies.

But for the time being, her loyalty was still to the Boss. It wouldn't do to tell her that he had been forced to flee Luna as a direct result of the actions of another Lilo and Cathay.

The conversation went on, but Lilo ignored it. She was watching her other self, her clone, and the clone was watching her.

"I remember Makel," Lilo said, softly.

"And I remember Javelin when she was a much thinner person." Diana smiled, and Lilo returned it. "I also remember the impact of Vengeance, and being killed by Vaffa."

"Come back to my room," Lilo said.

Once settled in the bunks, facing each other, they didn't say anything for a long time. The voices from the solarium were like the buzzing of a fly. They were discussing the events of the last few hours, while Lilo felt very much above it. She still retained parts of her transcendental experience, her glimpse of the way things had been, were, and would always be. She knew she had a long life ahead, but the details were blurred and fading.

"It's going, isn't it?" said Diana.

"Yes. I just remember the high points of your past, and the other... this gets confusing, doesn't it. To talk about."

Diana smiled.

"I can't remember too much of the future," she said.

"Just an impression that it's going on for quite a while. For each of us."

"Yes."

They were quiet again. Lilo had the sense that something had not been said, but knew it would be. She looked at the silver cube in Diana's hand. It looked ordinary enough.

"Can I see that?"

Diana looked at it, as if she had forgotten it was in her hand. She tossed it to Lilo.

It traveled a meter from her hand, slowing down all the way, and stopped halfway between them. Lilo could not think of any force that could have slowed it down; in weightlessness it should have moved in a straight line until it hit something. Nevertheless, there it floated.

She reached out and took it. It resisted her slightly. It seemed to prefer being motionless, though not with any great tenacity.

"What does it do, I wonder?" Lilo asked.

"You think we should fool with it?"

Lilo was holding it close to her face, studying it carefully. She had thought there was a slight discoloration on one side and was picking at it with her thumbnail. "I won't, I just want to—"

It unfolded.

It was not an easy thing to watch; it was not a matter of sides detaching themselves or opening up in any way. It was larger cubes evolving themselves from smaller ones until she had what she thought was an unsteady stack of eight, but which turned out to be just one hypercube. Lilo drew her hands back in dismay, and the thing floated.

"Uh... what should I do now?"

Diana moved around it, craning her neck to get a closer look without touching it.

"You think we can put it back like it was?"

Lilo reached out. Evidently the arrangement was unstable. The singularity moved again as soon as she touched it, and it became a simple cube again, but with sides of ten centimeters. It now had eight times its former volume.

"I thought I almost saw how it was done," Diana said. She took the cube, but before she could try anything it had started folding again. This time it was inward, but when it was done she ended with two five-centimeter cubes.

"Maybe we ought to leave this to the mathematicians," Diana said, and set them carefully on the bunk beside her.

"If we learned how to use it, it would save Javelin a lot of fuel on the trip back."

"Hm. Well, I think we'd better ask her first."

Diana looked at Lilo, then looked away again. But her eyes were drawn back.

"I... the details are getting fuzzier. About what's going to happen to us, I mean."

"Yes?"

"But I have... well, do you have the same memory that I do? You and I were... together a great deal. I remember that you seemed to be involved in most everything I do from now on."

"Yes." Lilo relaxed even more. She couldn't have been wrong about it, but it was nice to hear that Diana remembered the same thing. There was now very little left of her memories of the future: dream glimpses dissolving as she examined them, impressions rather than memories. What was left was vivid and real, but like flash-frames on a film or odd pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

She could see the forest under the blue sun. It was at least a hundred years in her future, but Diana was there with her.

"I wonder what sun it is?" Diana asked, and they both laughed. "Won't it be fun to find out?"