Twelve
He lay quietly as the machines sniffed and poked at him. Nikka said, “Fatigue, mostly, they think. But your blood chem is off, too.”
“Um,” Nigel grunted. “Imbalance in the antiaging potions, I suspect. I stayed away from the medmon, once my trick went sour.”
“You do look tired. But you got more out of those EM messages than the specialists, so maybe it was worth … What’s it doing now?”
“Um? Serving up pills,” The medmon pushed a tray toward him, humming.
Nikka asked, “What’s the orange one?”
He turned stiffly to see it. “Ah, the orange bugger.” Pharmacological peace. He lay with a feed in his nose, diagnostic discs on arms and chest, a thermometer and sampler in his anus, various leads and taps spotted over his belly. “That’s my aphrodisiac.”
Nikka smiled and the door peeled and Ted Landon came in. Nigel smiled wanly as the three of them went through the customary hospital-visiting remarks. Ted was nervous. To deflect him, Nigel asked about research.
“Oh, we’re pretty much sure that idea of yours was right,” Ted said. “The EMs must’ve tinkered with their genes to come up with that semiconductor and electrical storage system.”
“By building it into an ecology, they made it look natural? So they could get away with using radio?” Nikka asked.
“Maybe. Something kept the Watchers from attacking them.” Ted shrugged. He still seemed distracted.
“They found a loophole. Their radio is natural. The Watchers seem to he hunting down technology. Ergo, natural radio is safe.”
“Could be.”
“We’ll have to study them more to be sure,” Nikka said, “But it seems—”
“’Fraid not,” Ted stated flatly. “We’re moving on.”
“What!” Nigel spat out.
“Just got a long squirt from Earth. We have a new target star. A long trip.”
“Why?”
“Things have changed back there. There’s something in the oceans now. New life-forms.” Ted looked at them bleakly. “Looks like somebody dumped them there. That’s why Earth wants us to push on. Find out what we can from the EMs sure, but explore other systems, too.”
Nikka said slowly, “I don’t …”
“Somebody’s seeded our oceans. Using starships.”
Thirteen
2077 Deep Space
For weeks now, Lancer had been filled with the steady muted roar of the boosters. The huge, ornamented stone arced out from the sullen star, away from Isis, preparing for the ramscoop drive to cut in.
“Nigel? Nikka said I’d find you here.”
Nigel turned to find Ted Landon entering the view chamber. “Having a last look?”
“Um.”
“I haven’t seen you around Control lately.”
Nigel turned back to look at the distant ruddy disk of Isis. “I’d have been in the way.”
“Look, I know you don’t go along with the orders from Earthside, but I’m sure I can rely on you to pitch in where your talents are needed, especially—”
“Yes, right, team player and all that.” He folded his arms.
“You didn’t attend the community talks—didn’t think I’d notice, did you?”
“Hadn’t thought, actually.”
“Well, I did, and it was too bad your point of view wasn’t better represented there.”
“Would’ve made no difference. Earthside calls out, ‘Forge on, mates!’ and off we go.”
Ted allowed a flash of irritation to cross his face. “Okay, I agree those set-tos were pretty much pro forma, but—”
“Listen.” Nigel tapped his wrist. A slow but intricate strumming filled the view chamber, seeming to come from the imaging wall itself. “They’re sending their art, their history, the lot.”
“Well, yes, but in the form of myths and stories and a lot of indecipherable detail that—”
“That could be understood, in time. Particularly if we operated on the surface, where we could develop some visual signs to help break through the misunderstanding.”
“We need to see the pattern to all this, Nigel. That means exploring more than one system. Whatever happened here is long past. We need a line on the general picture, other stars—”