For Love and Glory

LII

They could quench their thirst, bathe, don clean clothes, eat a little. They could not sleep. They hardly dared.

However, it became oddly restful to lie weightless, at peace for this while. The planet glowed huge, starkly beauteous. When their vessel swung around the night side with interior lights dimmed, stars crowded darkness, the galactic belt became a river of silver, nebulae glimmered afar, majesty and mystery that went on forever. Music lilted softly in the background, old melodies that Lissa had always loved, the harmonies of home.

Neither dared they drug themselves to any extent; but mild psychotropes helped the body heal the hurts of stress. At last they could speak almost calmly.

“I can’t quite believe the Forerunners, or at least the Earth people—they must be in touch—would suddenly turn so… vicious,” Lissa said.

“I don’t think you have to believe it,” Hebo answered.

She looked at him as she might have looked at salvation. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve had years to turn notions over in my head, and, oh, I don’t claim any real knowledge, but maybe I’ve gotten a sort of feel for the business. Experience seems to bear my hunches out. You’re right, a high civilization won’t be aggressive or quick on the trigger. It wouldn’t have lasted if it were. And it doesn’t need to be.

“But it isn’t God. It can’t foresee and provide against everything.”

No, she thought, this is too big and strange a universe. There was an odd comfort in that. Her own kind belonged here too. The same ultimate freedom was theirs.

“Whether the Forerunners originally planned to install a guardian, or Earth suggested it and helped program it, we know it was benign,” Hebo went on. “If necessary, it might have disabled our drives as well as our hyperwave sets, but then I bet you it would’ve sent a message to our planets to come and get us. Ironbright, though, blasted it.

“I wonder if the Forerunners or Earth know. They must have concerns that interest them more than this. Quite likely they, or rather some machine of theirs, calls in periodically, and dispatches somebody or something if there seems to be trouble. The central robot mind here, or whatever centrum they have, may not be bright enough to transmit more than observations by itself. That was supposed to be the guardian’s job. Sure, just a guess of mine. Could well be mistaken. Still, the fact is, no almighty outsider has appeared yet.”

Hulda was passing dayward. Hebo gazed at dawn over craters, crags, stonefields, icefields, and unseen outposts of an unknown race. “The groundside robots do have adaptability,” he said. “They can improvise. Remember my idea that they weren’t predesigned, they were developed according to what local conditions had become? They’d have ‘known’ the guardian was destroyed. They’d have ‘known’ the intruders sent down a party to prowl around. But how could they know our intentions? Certainly what had happened suggested danger. I think they ‘decided’ to eliminate it in the only way they could. It took hours to design, make, and program an attack machine. But when it was ready, it had just that single purpose. We’re lucky it didn’t stop off to shoot at Hulda first. Maybe it perceived she was only our carrier and it could deal with her at leisure.”

He sighed. “It could not know we had Dzesi with us.”

Lissa took his hand. They floated mute for a time.

Dzesi was a warrior, she thought. She’d want us to fight on till we can bring her story home.

As if he heard, Hebo said, “You probably know Susaians better than I do. What do you think we should expect?”

She harked back to Orichalc. “I can’t say any more about all of them together than I can about human beings.”

“Nor I. Still, your friends among them are bound to have told you a lot. You’re a wise lady; you’d discount grudges and prejudices. And your father’s a big man on Asborg, bound to have plenty of dealings and many sources of information. You’re close to him, you’d have learned from him. Think, darling. What’s your assessment of these particular ones we’re up against?”

She was silent for another while, which lengthened.

Finally, slowly: “The Dominators are absolute rulers. They live for power. Ironbright’s a fanatic. She’d rather lose our data altogether than let us return without having shared it. The superiors at home will approve. After all, from their viewpoint, this has been a, a sheer windfall. Authority will have carried out her basic mission, and more. As for the fact that we’ve contacted Asborg, the Dominators need only declare that they know nothing about us, that we must have suffered some disaster en route. In fact, that will give them an excuse, over and above their claim of discovery, to send a naval force, mount guard, deny access to everybody else.”

“While they investigate.” Hebo grinned. “For our own protection. Yeah, sure. But do you think they seriously imagine they can cope with Earth, or the actual Forerunners?”

“I think probably they’ll be willing to take the chance. So many unknowns. If they are ordered off, they can try to put a good face on it. But they can hope that won’t happen, or at least that they can negotiate favorable terms.” She paused. “Their regime is in bad trouble. It may well be getting desperate. They’ll feel they haven’t much to lose, and perhaps everything to gain.”

“Uh-huh.” Hebo kept his tone level and hard. “Either we download for them, or we die. But what when we have obliged them?”

Her coolness cracked a little. She shivered. “I don’t know.”

“Ironbright did pledge by nest-honor. The crew must have heard. Isn’t that sacred? Isn’t breaking it worse than perjury amongst us?”

“Yes. Except… fanatics—”

“Or sea lawyers.”

Though she didn’t catch the reference, it ignited an insight. “Ironbright’s exact words were that they have no desire to harm us. That could be… interpreted… almost any way.”

Hebo scowled. “She could say, afterward, we seemed about to take hostile action, and duty required assuming the worst,” he grated. “Or we could just be carried back to Susaia as prisoners, with the same disclaimer as if we’d been nuked. Or—what?”

“I don’t know, I tell you. She could be honest. Other worlds having the information wouldn’t threaten the Dominance.”

“Not directly. However, what we learn might upset plenty of ideas, and dictatorships never want that.”

“What can we do but avoid giving any provocation, and, and hope?” She wished she had his God to pray to, less for herself than for him and all she loved.

“Yes, I suppose so,” dragged from him. I’m sure as hell not going to allow any move that puts you at needless risk.” His voice broke. “If I could know whether it’s needless!”

His fist struck the bulkhead. He recoiled from the impact.

And somehow the sight of him cartwheeling through midair struck her wildly funny. She laughed aloud. Tenderness followed, washing away terror. She dived to him, caught both his hands, and smiled into his gaze. “Whatever else,” she murmured, “we do have a couple of hours left.”

He looked at her with amazement. “By God, we do. You’re purely wonderful.”

And later when they floated side by side, amidst music and stars, it came to her that she kept one small power. Very small, but she was not absolutely helpless.

Nor was he, after she told him.