'Hmmm ...' I sipped the green tea, which wasn't bitter at all, not to me, waiting.
'They had to replace my entire nanite system, the way they did when you first got here, and I'm still readjusting. I don't have to pay for it, though, not this time.' Cerrelle took another sip of the green tea, her eyes still fixed on the silent and moonlit lake.
'Can you tell me why they sent you to Thesalle?'
She shrugged. 'I was sent with some newer and more sensitive atmospheric measuring equipment. It was designed to look for the organic equivalent of nanites.'
'Molecular-level biotechnology?'
That got a nod. 'And they thought they might get a different result from someone not born and raised a Rykashan.'
'Did they?'
'I don't know. I wasn't in much shape to care when I got back, and today ...'
'Was your first day out of medical?' Another nod affirmed that.
'Thesalle ...' I mused. 'Here Rykasha has enough technology to do what the ancients never managed, but something on the planet is beyond that technology, so much so that demons can't even discover what it might be.'
'No one has spent that much time on it. Whatever it is, it affects only a few people. We just don't have that many resources. The Galaxy alone is huge, Tyndel, and we spend an incredible percentage of our resources on interstellar travel.'
'I know.' That was why the ancients never had gotten that far. One reason, anyway.
She held up the mug. 'Would you mind?'
'Not at all.' I set my cup on the carved table by the bed and stood, walking through the darkness to the kitchen area and the small food formulator, thoughts circling through my mind.
'That brings up another question,' I said as I brought her the second cup of green tea. 'Oh?'
'Rykasha has the technology to subdue or destroy all the mites. Hasn't anyone ever thought about it?'
'Who hasn't? But what would be the purpose? The mite cultures are stable.' A faint smile crossed her lips. 'Besides, the gene pool is wider and faster evolving. We wouldn't have people like you.'
'Or you,' I pointed out.
'You're more valuable.'
'I don't think so.' And I meant it. 'I still can deceive myself; you never do.'
'I do. We all do. That's not all bad.' She paused for a sip of the tea. 'Think about it. Self-deception is the strength of all humans and all human cultures. We delude ourselves into believing that the universe has meaning, that we have a role and an importance in it. We dream grand dreams.'
'Is that self-delusion or self-preservation?' I asked. 'How could most people survive without believing that there's an inherent meaning to their lives?'
That's true of the mite cultures. We both know that. So many things people take as truths are built upon deception. Is there a god? How would we know? No one has any proof of a god, not in the scientific sense. All the major religions of the ancients were built upon revelations or interpretations of purely human or natural occurrences as the hand of god and not upon verified facts.'
'You don't think it's not true in Rykasha?'
'There are certainly some people who believe in the old superstitions, but look at how we handle something like Thesalle. At least some of the mites would call it the will of God because it's beyond our understanding. The same's true of engee. We just try to understand and try to accept that we can't understand everything without immediately running and hiding behind superstition.'
'That's another form of honesty,' I mused. 'But it's hard. We're not that honest by nature. Even demons.'
Cerrelle laughed softly. 'You don't think the Authority hasn't considered it.'
'Considered what?'
'Tyndel ... you're a Web pilot. What if you have a ship out there and you run into another form of intelligent life? Can you imagine a culture whose members could not deceive themselves? How would they deal with us? Knowing that they could trust no word ... no action, knowing that we could trust anything they said, what would they do? What could they do?'
I paused. Such an occurrence was unlikely. Surely, it would have happened earlier. Still... 'I suppose there would be only two workable alternatives - ignore us or destroy us.'
'Always the extremist, my dear. Why do you think that?'
Her use of the gentle and possessive appellation brought a smile to my heart, and my lips. 'In contact with humans, a truth-telling culture would either be perceptive enough to see through our continual deceptions and face continued frustration and exasperation, or, if less able, fall prey to our deceptions and machinations, or possibly become contaminated with such deception.'
'They could...' Cerrelle yawned and eased the cup toward the table.
I took it and set it on the far side. I had another thought. Could there be an advanced alien civilization that was not based, as ours was, upon deception? Our whole technological advancement was in a sense based upon creativity and at least a portion of creativity was a form of deception ... of denying the 'truth' of reality and seeking more.
'Tyndel... the guest room is across the hall'
I rose, taking the hint, then bent and kissed her cheek. 'You sure you'll be all right?'
'I'm sure. I'm tired, but I feel better already.' So did I.
With a smile, I closed the door behind me, far more awake than my sleepy redhead, with questions of Web insertions, honesty, grand dreams, alien intelligences, and the mystery of Thesalle all swirling through my mind.
70
Each journey is the same journey, yet those who travel together go separate ways.
After we had spent several quiet weeks mostly at the lake -where I continued to sleep in the guest room - the Authority had notified a recovered Cerrelle that she would be going back to Elena to 'baby-sit' another convert, one from Dezret. Because I had another trip scheduled first, though, she had been the one to see me off at the operations strip in Runswi... after I'd stopped for my medical screening, this time handled by doctor Fionya.
'How do you feel about going to Elena?' I'd asked Cerrelle as we waited for my shuttle. 'After all, I was a baby-sitting job.'
You were a pain.' She hugged me. You still are.' She smiled. 'But you're better.'
Smiling back, but silently wondering about that, I had hugged her in return, and then walked toward the shuttle for Orbit Two, at the head of the line, still conscious of how shiny the golden Web collar pin was.
Erelya met me as I glided out of the shuttle at Orbit Two. 'Astlyn's waiting for you in operations.'
'I thought you wouldn't be guiding me around anymore?' I grinned.
She smiled back. 'This is the last time - unless something special comes up. That doesn't happen often.'
The operations room was the same featureless composite gray, as chill and empty as the one time I'd been there before. Astlyn was alone, waiting for us. He inclined his head. 'Tyndel.'
I bowed my head briefly in return. 'Ser.'
The black-skinned senior operations controller smiled. 'You're headed for Nabata - off Beta Candace.'
Nabata? I racked what I'd learned. Tee-type world, recently colonized, two main continents, hot, dry, despite being a water world.
'Your cargo is the latest round of biotechnical efforts to develop grasses that match the native biology, plus the supporting equipment so that the bioteam there can carry things forward without the time lags. You'll also be carrying a full load of passengers.'
'They're the ones who will operate the equipment,' Erelya added.
All of that made sense. What didn't make sense was Astlyn telling me that.
'That's along the Web gradient for the Anomaly.' Astlyn paused. 'You've heard of it?'