remained there.
No one said anything for several seconds.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we came to the OnOff star hoping for treasure. So far we’ve learned some new astrophysics, developed a slightly better ramdrive. The biologicals of the Spider world are another treasure, also enough to finance our coming. But originally, we expected more. We expected to find the remains of a starfaring race—well, after forty years, it looks like we have succeeded. Spectacularly.”
Maybe it was just as well that Nau had not scheduled this as a general meeting. Everyone was suddenly talking at once. Lord only knew what it was like over at Benny’s. Ezr Vinh finally got a question on the floor. “You think the Spiders made this stuff?”
Nau shook his head. “No. The Kindred had to mine thousands of tonnes of low-grade ore to get this much magic.”
Trinli said, “We’ve known for years that the Spiders evolved here, that they never had a higher tech.”
“Quite so. And their own archeologists have no solid evidence of visitations. But this… this stuffis an artifact, even if only we can see it as such. Anne’s automation has spent several days on this. It’s a coordinated processing matrix.”
“I thought you said it was refined from native ores.”
“Yes. It makes the conclusion all the more fantastic. For forty years we’ve thought the diamond powders of Arachna were either infalls or biological skeletons. Now it looks like they are fossil processing devices. And at least some of them reassert their mission when brought close together. Like localizers, but much much smaller, and with a special purpose… to manipulate physical laws in ways we don’t begin to understand.”
Trinli looked as if someone had punched him in the face, as if decades of bombast had been beaten out of him. He said softly, “Nanotech. The dream.”
“What? Yes, the Failed Dream. Till now.” The Podmaster looked up at the tile lying on the ceiling. He smiled. “Whoever visited here, it was millions or billions of years ago. I doubt we’ll ever find any camp tents or garbage middens… but the signs of their technology are everywhere.”
Vinh: “We were looking for starfarers, but we were too small and all we saw were their ankles.” He tore his gaze down from the ceiling. “Maybe even these—” He waved at the window, and Gonle realized that he was talking about the big diamonds of L1. “Maybe even these are artifacts.”
Brughel moved forward in his chair. “Nonsense. They are simple diamond rocks.” But there was an edge of uncertainty in the aggressive look he flashed around the table.
Nau hesitated an instant, then gave an easy chuckle, waving his thug silent. “We’re all beginning to sound like some Dawn Age fantasy. The hard facts are extraordinary, without adding superstitious mumbo-jumbo. With what we already have, this expedition may be the most important in human history.”
And the most profitable, too.Gonle shifted back on her chair, and tried to catalogue all the things they might do with the glittering material that was lying on the ceiling.What’s the best way to sell something like that?How many centuries of monopoly might be wrung out of it?
But the Podmaster had returned to more practical matters. “So that’s the fantastic news. In the long term, it is good beyond our wildest dreams. In the short term—well, it puts a real knot in the Schedule. Qiwi?”
“Yes. As you know, the Spiders are about five years from having a mature planetary computer network, something we can reliably act through.”
Something advanced enough that we can use.Until today, that had been the biggest treasure that Gonle Fong had envisioned coming out of these years of exile. Forget about marginal advances in ramdrives or even biologicals. There was a whole industrialized world down there, with a culture guaranteed to be alien from other markets. If they controlled that, or even had a dominant bargaining position, they would rank with the legends of the Qeng Ho marketing. Gonle understood that. Surely Nau did. Qiwi did too, though right now she was talking simple idealism:
“Till now, we thought that they were also about five years away from really needing our help. We thought that any Kindred/Accord war wouldn’t happen till then. Well… we were wrong. The Kindred don’t have much of a computer net—but they do have the cavorite mines. Their cavorite satellites are stealthed for now, but that’s only for temporary advantage. Very soon, their missile fleet will be upgraded. Politically, we see them moving to subvert smaller countries, egging them into confrontation with the Accord. We simply can’t wait another five years to take a hand in things.”
Jau said, “There are other reasons for advancing the deadlines. With this cavorite, it’s going to be next to impossible to keep our operations a secret much longer. The Spiders are going to be out in local space very soon. Depending on how much of that”—he jerked his thumb at the glistening tile on the ceiling—“they have, they may actually be more maneuverable than we are.”
Beside him, Rita was looking more and more upset. “You mean there’s a chance Pedure’s crowd couldwin ? If we have to advance the Schedule, then it’s time we stopped pussyfooting. We need to come down with military force, on the side of the Accord.”
The Podmaster nodded solemnly in Liao’s direction. “I hear you, Rita. There are people down there that we’ve all come to respect, even to—” He waved his hand as if to push aside deeper sentiments, to concentrate on hard reality. “But as your Podmaster, I have to look at priorities: My highest priority is the survival of you and all the humans in our little pod. Don’t mistake the beauty you have all created here. The truth is, we have precious little real military power.” The setting sun had turned the lake to gold, and now the slanting rays lit the meeting room with a gentle, even warmth. “In fact, we are almost castaways, and we are about as far from Humankind as anyone has ever been. Our second priority—and it’s inextricably bound to the first—is the survival of the Spiders’ advanced industrial civilization, and therefore its people and their culture. We must act very carefully. We can’t act out of simple affection…. And you know, I listen to the translations, too. I think that people like Victory Smith and Sherkaner Underhill would understand.”
“But they can help!”
“Maybe. I’d call them in an instant if we had better information and better network penetration. But if we reveal ourselves unnecessarily, we could unite them all against us—or alternatively, provoke Pedure into attacking them immediately. We must save them, and we must not sacrifice ourselves.”
Rita wavered. To Nau’s right, but just in the shadows, Ritser Brughel glowered at her. The younger Podmaster had never really grasped the fact that the old, Emergent rules must change. The idea of someone giving back talk still sent him into a rage.Thank the Lord he’s not running things. Nau was a tough nut, smooth and ruthless despite all the nice words—but you could do business with him.
No one else spoke in support of Rita’s position, yet she made one more try. “We know Sherkaner Underhill is a genius. He would understand. He could help.”
Tomas Nau sighed. “Yes, Underhill. We owe him a lot. Without him, we’d probably be twenty years short of success, not just five. But, I’m afraid…” He glanced down the table at Ezr Vinh. “You know more about Underhill and Dawn Age technology than anyone, Ezr. What do you think?”
Gonle almost laughed. Vinh had been following the conversation like a spectator at a racquet match; now the ball had hit him square between the eyes. “Um. Yes. Underhill is remarkable. He’s like von Neumann, Einstein, Minsky, Zhang—a dozen Dawn Age geniuses wrapped into one body. Either that or the guy is just a genius at picking graduate students.” Vinh smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Rita. For you and me, the Exile time has only been ten or fifteen years. Underhill has lived it all, second by second. By Spider standards—and pre-tech human ones—he’s an old man. I’m afraid he’s at the edge of senility. He’s lived through all the easy technical payoffs, and now he’s hit the dead ends…. What was flexibility has become superstitious mush. If we have to give up our Lurk advantage, I’d suggest we just contact the Accord government, play things as a straight business deal.”
Vinh might have continued, but the Podmaster said, “Rita, we’re trying for the safest outcome for everyone. I promise, if that means throwing ourselves on the Spiders’ mercy—well, so be it.” His glance flickered to his right, and Gonle realized that the message was directed at Brughel as much as anyone. Nau paused a moment, but no one had anything more to say. His voice became more businesslike. “So, the Schedule is suddenly very much advanced. Tas forced on us, but I am pleased by the challenge.” His smile flashed in the fake sunset. “One way or another, our Exile will be over in a year. We can afford to—we must—expend resources. From now till we’ve saved the Spider world, almost everyone will be on-Watch.”
Wow.
“We’ll start running the volatile plant at redline duty cycle.” Heads went up all around the table. “Remember,
