MacGregor’s voice was as dismissive as Gaspard’s had been. “Oh, so you’re going to give us the old von Damien bilgewater about humans being descended from ancient astronauts: that we did not evolve on, but came to, Earth-and now Delta Pavonis-by the Chariots of the Gods?”
“No, not at all. The evidence, both in terms of the fossil record and genetic conformity, overwhelmingly indicates that we are not interlopers, but are native to Earth.”
Demirel spread his hands. “Then what are you suggesting?”
“I am suggesting that another race-which had developed rebar and interstellar travel-transplanted humans from Earth to Delta Pavonis at some point in our prehistory.”
MacGregor leaned forward. “That’s pretty farfetched.”
Gaspard leaned away from the table. “It is absurd.”
Caine held his voice steady. “Really? Why? We’ve relocated species whenever we’ve settled new lands.”
Visser’s voice was careful, neutral. “So. When were we transplanted, and by whom, and why?”
Caine turned a smile upon her, received a surprised response-in-kind. “Those are good-and productive-questions, Ms. Visser. And even though we cannot answer them conclusively, simple deduction will help us make a few educated guesses. The main ruin has been authoritatively dated to nineteen thousand years ago, plus or minus three thousand years. This helps us determine when human transplantation occurred.
“Who transplanted these humans? Impossible to say, but probably not the Pavonians or their forebears-unless, of course, the Pavonians are not from Delta Pavonis either. If they were originally travelers from yet another world, that would explain why we do not see evidence of an earlier civilization on Dee Pee Three. But it seems improbable that even a marooned colony would have become-and remained-as primitive as they are now, so I tend to discount that possibility.”
Durniak nodded sharply. “So either the Pavonians are a primitive species native to Dee Pee Three, or…”
“Or, similar to our own forebears, they were imported there.”
Gaspard’s hands seemed to flutter upward toward the ceiling. “What are you proposing: that Delta Pavonis was a game park where the zookeepers were little green men?”
“No, but we must explore all possible answers to Ms. Visser’s question of who brought humans to Dee Pee Three. Because that is the truly crucial issue of these Dialogs-not the discovery of the Pavonians.”
“Why?”
“Because, Ms. Visser, it means that there is not just one, but multiple exosapient species, and that at least one of them already had interstellar capability twenty thousand years ago. From a strategic standpoint, that’s rather daunting information.”
A dour silence: the practical ramifications were starting to hit home. Visser tapped her finger in cadence with her words. “So, now: why? Why move primitive species from one star to another?”
“Well, we can observe ourselves for some possible clues.”
“What do you mean, ‘observe ourselves’?”
“Ms. Visser, sometimes we extract animals from their native habitats simply to ensure their long-term survival.”
“Like the Bengal tiger and the panda bear.”
“Yes, and the same may have been done with us-or other species-that seemed interesting to an advanced exosapient race. But usually, we relocate species for more practical reasons.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Nodding, Durniak provided the answer: “He means like horses in the American West.”
“What?”
Durniak’s nod seemed to be contagious: Sukhinin’s head now bobbed in sync with hers. “Da: the cowboy on his mustang is a symbol of the United States-but just six hundred years ago, there was not one horse in America.”
Hollingsworth’s voice was only a murmur, as if she was remembering something from a history lesson thirty years ago. “Of course; they were brought by the Spanish.”
Visser was still staring at Caine. “So you are suggesting that almost twenty millennia ago, Neolithic humans were taken from Earth. But being so primitive, of what use would they have been to an interstellar culture?”
“Their primitiveness may have been exactly what made them usefuclass="underline" they couldn’t really resist, had no greater sense of the cosmos, had only rudimentary social structures. So what if an advanced race takes a few hundred Cro-Magnon and gives them three generations to safely reproduce-naturally or otherwise-while being taught to function in a post-industrial society? Only the original generation would experience any regret or disorientation. By the third generation, their offspring would be fully domesticated.”
“So you are saying that we were bred to be oxen-or lab rats?”
“Perhaps, but our lab rats and oxen don’t get special attention-or special buildings. However, other species have long been recipients of our extra care and consideration, species that lived closely with us, that were domesticated to assist us with important, even life-and-death tasks. Case in point: humans started by domesticating wolves: why?”
Sukhinin nodded again. “To hunt down the wild wolves.”
“Exactly. Our forebears fought fire with fire. They found creatures that could help with-or could wholly take over-tasks that were both important and dangerous.
“Now, let’s apply the same logic to the relocation of humans. There’s certainly no reason to use us for dragging around heavy objects: hell, we’re not particularly good at that. But to serve as overseers, builders, administrators, even soldiers for a race which does not want to be bothered with the dirty business of managing its own empire? History illustrates how very effective we might be in such a role-because we have done just that with other humans for millennia. Mr. Medina, you might tell us about the special class of mixed-race overseers that were once common on Brazil’s plantations. I could outline the role played by house slaves in the management of the field slaves in the antebellum American South. Ms. Hollingsworth might recount three hundred years of imperial management of the Raj, where the queen’s small British cadres directed an immense native infrastructure of bureaucrats, soldiers, even doctors and engineers, who served efficiently and loyally in the perpetuation of their own subjugation. What happened on Dee Pee Three may not have been very different.”
“And then what? These human servitors were simply abandoned? Were allowed to die out?”
“Mr. MacGregor, why should we be surprised by an aftermath of neglect? Did the Spaniards remain as game wardens for the horses they left behind? No: empires rise and empires fall, and in their wake they leave fragments of their long-forgotten actions and ambitions. The main ruin on Dee Pee Three may be just such a fragment.”
“And so what about our old masters? Are they all dead and gone-or tarrying around some distant star, ready to re-adopt us if we find our way back home to them?”
“Possibly. Or possibly, they’d just see us as a species gone feral. And of course you all know what we do to feral dogs.”
“Oh,” said MacGregor. Who fell as deathly quiet as the rest of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Three
ODYSSEUS
Gaspard was the first to break the long silence. “Mr. Riordan, I wish to return to the less esoteric matter of your experiences on Delta Pavonis Three. It is said that you are the first person to encounter an exosapient-but in fact, you are not: correct?”
“Technically, correct. However, as far as I know, I am the first human to communicate with an exosapient-unless you consider Mr. Bendixen’s shotgun a communication device. In which case, it surely does bear out the axiom that the medium is the message.”