Mavarka’s last misadventure was a daily outburst of highly visible amusement.”
Siti had been convinced he wanted to establish a permanent bond before they had finished their first active period together. She had resisted the idea until they were halfway through their next awake but she had known she would form a bond with someone sooner or later. They were both people with a fundamental tendency to drift into permanent bonds and they had reinforced that tendency, soon after they made the commitment, with a personality adjustment that eliminated disruptive urges.
Siti found Revutev Mavarka almost incomprehensible. A man who kidnapped a woman just to satisfy a transient desire? And created a turmoil that affected hundreds of people?
Twenty years from now she won’t mean a thing to him, Siti had said. And he knows it.
“He’s impulsive,” Varosa Uman said. “I can’t let myself forget he’s impulsive. Unpredictably.”
Trans Cultural had asked all the required questions and looked at all the proffered bona fides. The emissary called Varosa Uman Deun Malinvo… satisfied all the criteria that indicated said emissary represented a legitimate governmental authority.
“Is it correct to assume you represent the dominant governmental unit on your planet?” Trans Cultural asked.
“I represent the only governmental unit on my planet.”
Varosa Uman had established a direct link with the base Trans Cultural had created in the Gildeen Wilderness. She had clothed herself in the feather and platinum finery high officials had worn at the height of the Third TaraTin Empire and she was transmitting a full, detailed image. Trans Cultural was still limiting itself to voice-only.
“Thank you for offering that information,” Trans Cultural said.
“Are you supposed to limit your contacts to governmental representatives?”
“I am authorized to initiate conversations with any entity as representative as the consortium I represent.”
“Can you give us any information on the other visitor currently operating on our world?”
“The Betzino-Resdell Exploration Community primarily represents two private individuals. The rest of its membership comprises two other individuals and three minor organizations.”
“Can you give me any information on its members?”
“I’m afraid I’m not authorized to dispense that information at present.”
“The presence of another visitor from your society seems to indicate you do not have a single entity that can speak for your entire civilization. Is that correct?”
“I represent the dominant consensus on our world. My consortium represents all the major political, intellectual, and cultural organizations on our world. I am authorized to furnish a complete list on request.”
Betzino-Resdell had created an antenna by shaping a large rock slab into a shallow dish and covering it with a thin metal veneer. The orbiter passed over the antenna once every 75.6 minutes and exchanged transmissions.
“You should create an alternate transmission route,” Revutev Mavarka said. “I’ve been observing your skirmishes with the other visitor. You should be prepared to continue communications with your orbiter if they manage to invade your base and destroy your antenna.”
“Do you think that’s a significant possibility?”
“I believe you should be prepared. That’s my best advice.”
“He’s preparing a betrayal,” Mansita Jano said. “He’s telling us he’s prepared to send them information about the Message if we attempt to arrest him.”
Varosa Uman reset the recording and watched it again. She received recordings of every interchange between Revutev Mavarka and the second visitor but Mansita Jano had brought this to her attention as soon as it had been intercepted.
Mansita Jano had raised the possibility of a “warning message” in their first meetings. The Message itself contained some hints that it had thrown whole civilizations into turmoil but most of the evidence had been edited out of the historical sections. The history of their own species painted an accurate picture up to their receipt of the Message.
The humans would never hear of the millions who had died so the survivors could live through a limitless series of active and dormant periods. They would learn the cost when they counted their own dead.
But what would happen if their visitors received a message warning them of the dangers? Would it have any effect? Would they ignore it and stumble into the same wilderness their predecessors had entered?
For Mansita Jano, the mere possibility Revutev Mavarka might send such a message proved they should stop “chattering” and defend themselves.
“We have no idea what such a warning message might do,” Mansita Jano said. “Its very existence would create an unpredictable situation that could generate endless debate—endless turbulence!—within our own society. By now the humans have received the first messages informing them of our existence. By now, every little group like these Betzino-Resdell adventurers could have launched a visitor in our direction. How will we treat them when we know they’re emissaries from a society that has been warned?”
“I started working on that issue as soon as I finished viewing the recording,” Varosa Uman said. “I advised the Integrators I want to form a study committee and they’ve given me the names of ten candidates.”
“And when they’ve finished their studies, they’ll give you the only conclusion anyone can give you. We’ll have fifty visitors orbiting the planet and we’ll still be staring at the sky arguing about a list loaded with bad choices.”
The Integrators never used a visual representation when they communicated with their creators. They were machines. You must never forget they were only machines. Varosa Uman usually turned toward her biggest window and looked out at the sea when she talked to them.
“I think you chose me because of my position on the Adventurer personality scale,” Varosa Uman said. “You felt I would understand an Adventurer better than someone with a personality closer to the mean. Is that a reasonable speculation?”
“You were chosen according to the established criteria for your assignment.”
“And I can’t look at the criteria because you’ve blocked access.”
“That is one of the rules in the procedure for overseeing visitations. Access to that information is blocked until the visitation crisis has been resolved.”
“Are you obeying the original rules? Or have they been modified here and there over the last three thousand years?”
“There have been no modifications.”
“So why can’t I just talk to someone who remembers what the original rules were?”
“You are advised not to do that. We would have to replace you. You will do a more effective job if you operate without that knowledge.”
“Twelve percent of the population have Adventurer personality structures. They’re a sizable minority. They tend to be popular and influential. I can’t ignore their feelings. Does my own personality structure help me balance all the relevant factors?”
“It could. We are only machines, Overseer. We can assign numerical weights to emotions. We cannot feel the emotions ourselves.”
Varosa Uman stood up. A high, almost invisible dot had folded its wings against its side and turned into a lethal fury plummeting toward the waves. She adjusted her eyes to ten power and watched hard talons drive into a sea animal that had wandered into the wrong area.
“I’m going to let the study committee do its work. But I have to conclude Mansita Jano is correct. We can’t let Revutev Mavarka send a warning message. I can feel the tensions he’s creating just by threatening to do it. But we can’t just arrest him. And we can’t just isolate him, either. The Adventurer community might be small but it could become dangerously angry if we took that kind of action against one of the most popular figures in the community while he’s still doing things most Adventurers consider harmless rule bending.”
