The Tycho museum perched at the summit of a green-clad mountain. A tall figure waved. The mountain was at the center of a plain which glistened with lakes and trees. The plain was walled by a circle of jagged hills. As they descended the hills dipped over the horizon.
Rodi landed neatly.
The air carried the scent of pine. Through the day-lit membrane Rodi could see stars; towards the horizon they were stained blue. He breathed deeply, invigorated.
Thet whooped. “I love this dinky gravity.” She did a neat double back somersault, her long legs flexing.
Their host walked around the curve of the little museum. He wore a white coverall and he was at least eight feet tall. He smiled. “Welcome,” he said. “My name is Darby.”
Thet landed breathlessly and introduced herself and Rodi. “Come to my home,” said Darby. “My family will be more than excited to meet you. And you can tell us all about your… integrality.”
Rodi looked around for a transport. There was none.
Darby said nothing. He held out his hands. Like children, Rodi and Thet took hold.
Rodi saw Darby’s coverall ripple, as if in a sudden breeze.
The museum, the flitter slid away.
Rodi looked down. He was flying, as if in a glass elevator. He felt no fear. Hand in hand they soared over the curves of the little world.
Darby’s home was a tentlike, translucent structure; it was at the heart of a light-filled forest. The days were as long as Ark days, adhering to some ancient, common standard. Thet and Rodi spent four days with Darby’s family.
Thet looked out of place in all this domesticity: squat, brusque, embarrassed by kindness. She let Rodi talk to the adults while she sat on the leaf-strewn ground telling Integrality parables to Darby’s two children. Each child towered over Thet. Their earnestness made Rodi smile.
On the final day Darby took Rodi by the hand. “Come with me. I’d like to show you a little more of our world.”
They flew soundlessly. Houseboats floated on circular oceans; clumps of dwellings grew by the banks of rivers. Everywhere people waved at them. “This is a peaceful place, you see, Rodi,” Darby said. “There are only a few thousand of us.”
“Yes. And this orderly world has risen from the debris of war… just as the Integrality teaches us to expect. As I’ve told you, the Integrality is a movement based on the inter-meshing of all things. Local reductions in entropy occur on all scales throughout the Universe, from the growth of a child to the convergence of a galaxy cluster. Order is to be celebrated…”
Irritation touched Darby’s face briefly. He said nothing. Rodi fell silent, faintly embarrassed.
At a savannah’s heart sat a simple dome. “This is a place we call Tranquility,” said Darby. “What I’m going to show you is a kind of monument. On seeing this perhaps you’ll understand why your sermons are a little out of place here.”
They landed like leaves.
Rodi peered through the clear dome wall. Boulders littered a patch of bald earth. There was a craft, a spiderlike structure as tall as a man. Gold foil gleamed through years of dust. Its colors faded beyond recognition, a flag lay in the soil.
“Here is the original surface of the planet, preserved through the terraforming,” said Darby. “Airless.”
“The craft looks very old. What is it?”
“Human, of course. This is one of our first spacecraft. Do you know where you are yet?”
Rodi turned and met Darby’s mild eyes.
“This is the Moon,” Darby said. “The original satellite of Earth. It was used in some ancient assault on the Ring… abandoned here, millions of light years from home, and terraformed by the handful of survivors.” He smiled. “Rodi, every glance at the night sky tells us where we are and how we got here. We live surrounded by the rubble of the past, the foolish sacrifices of war.
“We have had to come to terms with this, you see. We have made our peace with the Universe. Perhaps your Integrality has something to learn from us.”
Rodi stared for long minutes at the ancient craft. Then Darby took his arm. “I’ll take you back to your flitter. Your companion is already waiting for you.”
Hand in hand, they flew to the grass-coated walls of Tycho Crater.
The flitter soared through hyperspace.
“Those damn kids taught me a song,” Thet said. She recited: “
Rodi frowned. “Strange sort of kids’ song.”
“Sounds very old, doesn’t it? The kids say they learn it from older children, and so it’s passed on.” Punching the controls briskly, she said, “Well, that’s your first drop. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Next one solo, maybe.”
Sunk in depression, Rodi tapped at the data desk built into his thumbnail. “What do you know about glotto-chronology?”
Thet snorted. “What do you think?”
“It’s one of our standard dating mechanisms. Starting from a common root, the languages of two human groups will diverge by a fifth every thousand years.” Tiny numbers flickered over his nail. “About half of Darby’s vocabulary is close to ours. That makes the colony about three thousand years old… This war has endured for millennia.”
“We know that.” Thet’s brow furrowed as she concentrated on her piloting. “This is actually a bit tricky. The inseparability net is breaking up a little; the guidance beacons are flickering… there are ripples in hyperspace; large mass movements somewhere. A quake on a nearby neutron star?”
Rodi found himself blurting, “Is it always like that?”
“What?”
“Darby…”
“What did you expect? To convert him?”
Rodi thought it over. “Yes.”
She laughed at that. She was still laughing as they passed into the warm interior of the Ark.
Holism Ark was a sphere miles wide. Its human fabric was sustained from huge chambers strung around the equator, where the Ark’s spin gave the illusion of gravity. There were industrial zones, biotech tanks, sim rooms, health and exercise facilities. The weightless axis was a tunnel glowing with light. Tiled corridors branched away to riddle the Ark.
The flitter docked at a pole. Rodi slipped his arms into a set of light wings and swam along the axis. He was due to meet his seminary tutor, Gren, to discuss his voyage, and he tried to lift his mood. He stared around at the bustling life of the Ark: people coasting to and from work, children fluttering stubby wings in some complex game. Rodi felt isolated from it all, as if his senses were clouded by his depression.
There was a free fall common room at the center of the Ark. Gren met him there, tethered to a floating table. Gren was a round, comfortable man. Over a coffee globe he congratulated Rodi. “I was interested by that bit of doggerel Thet picked up,” he said. “Did you know we’ve found similar fragments before?”
“Really?” Rodi hung up his wings and fiddled with his table tether.
“Strange, isn’t it? These scattered bits of humanity slavishly maintaining their scraps of verse. We’ve a data store full of them… But what’s it all for?” Gren put on a look of comic puzzlement.
Rodi drew a coffee globe from the table’s dispenser. “Gren, why are the Ark’s corridors tiled?”
Gren sipped his drink and eyed Rodi. He said carefully, “Because it’s more comfortable that way.”
“For us, yes. But this Ark is a Spline ship. How must the Spline feel? Once the Spline were free traders. Now we’ve sanitized this being’s guts and built controls into its consciousness. Gren, we preach the wholeness of life, the growth to completeness. Is that a suitable way to treat a fellow creature?”
“Ah. Your first drop didn’t turn out as you expected.” He smiled. “You’re not the first to react like this.”
Rodi cradled the coffee globe’s warmth close to his chest. “Please take me seriously, Gren. Is our philosophy, this great crusade to the Ring, a sham?”
“You know it isn’t. The Integrality is a movement based on centuries of hard human experience. It has quasi-religious elements. Even the words we use — ‘seminary,’ ‘mission’ — have the scent of ancient faiths. That’s no sham; it’s quite deliberate. We want the Integrality to be vibrant enough to replace other faiths… especially man’s dark passion to die on a mass scale.”
“War—”
Gren thumped the table, his round face absurdly serious. “Yes, war. And that’s why the resources of planets were spent to send the Exaltation here, to the site of man’s greatest and most futile war.
“Rodi, come to terms with your doubts. Humanity is
Another table drifted by. A young couple whispered into each other’s mouths. Rodi watched them absently, thinking of his parents. Both of them worked in the Ark’s biotech tanks. He recalled their pride when he was selected for the seminary, and then for the missionary cohort…
Gren was smiling again. “Anyway, you haven’t long to brood before you go out again.”
Rodi looked up, startled. “You still think I’m suitable?”
“Of course. Do we want ignorant fanatics? We want young people who can
“Now. There’s a neutron star, not far from here. Spinning very fast… we’ve picked up a signal from its surface.”
Rodi stared. “A human signal?”
Gren laughed kindly. “Well, of course a human signal. Why else would we send you?”
Rodi finished his drink and pushed the globe back into the table. “I guess I’d better find Thet…”
Gren laid a warm hand on his arm. “Rodi, this time you’re on your own. Go and get some sleep; you’ve a few hours to spare—”
The flitter seemed empty without Thet.
The Spline’s orifice dilated and Rodi returned to hyperspace. He began to thread his way out of the Exaltation, keeping his breath carefully level.
A Virtual sparkled into existence; Thet grinned. “Going solo this time, kid? I just called to wish you luck.” Rodi thanked her. “Listen, Rodi… don’t let me get you down. I rag everybody, and my opinions are my own. Right? And you did okay, down there on the Moon. Be safe.” She winked at him and the Virtual dissipated.
Feeling warmer, Rodi dropped into three-space.
The neutron star was one of a binary pair. It was the remnant of a blue-white giant, once so bright it must have made its companion star cast a shadow. Perhaps there had been planets.
