2. Minutes ago, university received E threats from "Peace Front" re program, so the cat is out of the bag. You will be hearing from the Bureau soonest, if you haven't already.
– Issa L.
(Marijka, 12 princesses are on their way to you. IL)
Encrypted pulse OSPCO
2912.07.13/16:27G
OSP to AMS Nairobi; copy all AMS program labs
Subject(s): Foulbrood project
Kanika, given the update by Marijka on the venom project (shudder), and by Issa on the fecundity project (shiver), I certainly hope you folks are making good progress.
– Benny
Encrypted pulse OSPCO
OSP to all AMS program labs
Subject(s): NSS 12
At 03:05G this date, NSS 12 reported passing the halfway point (eccentricity 1.06) to Tagus. Looks good so far, but don't depend on it.
– Debbie C.
"Excuse me," said Major General Pyong Pak Singh, and took the call on his privacy receiver. "Pak," he said.
"Sir, this is WO-3 Kiefer." Yolanda Kiefer sounded very young, something he hadn't gotten used to. She was older than he was. "Dierdre just brought a message from War House," she went on. "About two minutes' worth. I can read it to you if you'd like."
A savanted message. "Just a moment, Kiefer," he said, and turned to his visitor, Mayor Ritala of nearby North Fork. "This will take perhaps two minutes."
The Luneburgian nodded.
"Read it to me," Pak said. "I'm ready."
"From Lieutenant General Titu Cioculescu, deputy chief of staff, Commonwealth Army." Cioculescu, Pak thought, impressed. Lefty Sarruf's right hand. "To Major General Pyong Pak Singh, commander, New Jerusalem Liberation Corps. Greeting. When you have reached New Jerusalem, you will provide War House with three Wyzhnyny prisoners alive and unwounded. Do not rely on serendipity. Develop a plan, and train teams accordingly. You will be informed later on how the prisoners are to be processed. Personnel will be provided to handle and transport them. You will be further informed as appropriate.
"(signed) Cioculescu."
Frowning, Pak pursed thin lips. "Thank you, Kiefer. Is that it?"
"Yes, General."
"I'll answer him when I've seen it in writing."
Reaching, the general disconnected, wondering what War House wanted with prisoners. It seemed highly improbable they had a translation program for whatever language the Wyzhnyny spoke, or whistled, or gestured, or however they did it. It didn't occur to him that the questions might have originated from an agency he'd never heard of: the Office of Special Projects. And that the answers would come not from questioning, but from chromatographs and other tests.
He turned to his visitor. "Mayor Ritala, I appreciate that your merchants would like my troops to come into town more often, and I'm glad their behavior meets with your approval. But we are on Pastor Luneburger's World to train, preparing to fight a very dangerous foe. The present schedule of passes on alternate Sevendays will have to suffice, and at any rate it's about as often as their very modest pay permits." He paused. "Is there anything else?"
The general's voice held a tone of dismissal; his closing question was clearly rhetorical, a courtesy. A thought passed through the mayor's mind: to invite the general to his home for Sevenday dinner. But somehow he didn't. This soldier was too single-minded for that.
It also occurred to him that single-mindedness was desirable in generals, given the circumstances the human species found itself in.
Chapter 28
Qonits Answers Questions
Instead of answering, Yukiko Gavaldon got calmly to her feet and faced him. "Qonits," she said, "it is not appropriate that you ask all the questions. Now it is time for us to ask questions, and for you to answer."
David had learned to conceal his surprise at his wife's sometimes off-the-wall responses. "Yes," he said, backing her. "It is disrespectful that we are not given a reasonable chance to question you. It becomes increasingly so as the imbalance grows."
Qonits stood for several long seconds without responding. This was something new from the captives. When at last he replied, it was slowly. "But we are the victors. You are our captives. You are obliged to do as we order."
Yukiko shook her head firmly. "That is incorrect. There are two categories of victors. One is barbarians. The other consists of civilized beings. Barbarians are inferior sophonts who do not care whether they behave properly or not. Civilized beings do care. And you have shown yourself to be civilized."
She stood with arms folded, her features firm.
The two Terrans had learned to read Qonits somewhat. It seemed to David that the chief scholar was unsure of himself now. "There should be balance in all things," he added. His voice was mild, even kind. "Not absolute balance; that is hardly possible. But sufficient to show respect."
Qonits looked at him warily. "What questions would you ask?"
It was Yukiko who began. "Where in the galaxy are you from?"
Qonits' head jerked three times, as if with Tourette's syndrome-a reaction that seemed too extreme for the question. But he answered it. "Shipsmind says this not our galaxy. We jumped here in-no elapsed time."
David frowned; this had to be a language problem. "Not from this galaxy? How can that be?"
"We do not know. We crossed from our old spiral arm to another-very far voyage, eleven years-then emerged from hyperspace. At that time, shipsmind knew exactly what place we were, and where our home sector was. Then we entered a star system to explore… and suddenly… "
He stopped, his hide twitching weirdly, alarmingly. Yukiko got quickly to her feet and placed a hand on Qonits' arm. "It's all right," she said softly. "It's all right. You are with friends."
Qonits didn't answer for a full minute while his twitching subsided, but he remained agitated. "Suddenly," he went on, "the view, the stars, all things was different. And the ship's… " He gestured frantically, as if digging for the word with his hands. "Numbers that appear."
"Readouts," David suggested.
Qonits seemed not to hear. "Ship said we were in different galaxy-and no time had passed!" He paused. The twitching had begun again, and he breathed heavily, seeming to hyperventilate. More than his nictitating membranes had closed. His eyelids had clenched shut, and he stood without saying anything more until he'd calmed somewhat. Finally, eyes open again, he continued. "Ship was searching for known objects in space, as fastly it could. And was recognizing nothing.
"Some of our people lost… " Again his hands pawed as if digging. "Some even died."
The chief scholar's reaction stunned David. Granted the experience must have been a shock, it seemed to him that humans-certainly spacers-wouldn't have reacted so strongly.
"I'm sorry my question led to painful memories," Yukiko said. "I had no wish to distress you. I was simply interested in the world on which your people originated. Is that where you're from?"
The question seemed to calm Qonits somewhat. He stood as if digesting it. "Wyzhnyny began on a world whose name would have not meaning to you, and hard for you to speak. We say Kryzhgon. My tribe would start long later, on different world. Kryzhgon had hard history to live with. Much danger. Much fighting."
"Fighting?" said David.