Fagin and Kepler were talking about the history of Sunships. Fagin’s voice was muffled because his upper foliage and blowhole brushed against the soundproofing panels on the ceiling. (Jacob hoped that Kanten were not prone to claustrophobia. But then, what were talking vegetables afraid of anyway? Being nibbled on, he supposed. He wondered about the sexual mores of a race whose lovemaking required the intermediary of a sort of domesticated bumblebee.)
“Then these magnificent improvisations,” Fagin said, “without benefit of the slightest help from outside, enabled you to convey packages of instruments into the very Photosphere! This is most impressive and I wonder that, in my years here, I never knew of this adventure of your period before Contact!”
Kepler beamed. “You must understand that the bathysphere project was only… the beginning, long before my time. When laser propulsion for pre-Contact interstellar craft was developed, they were able to drop robot ships that could hover and, by the thermodynamics of using a high temperature laser, they could dump excess heat and cool the probe’s interior.”
“Then you were only a short time away from sending men!”
Kepler smiled ruefully. “Well, perhaps. Plans were made. But sending living beings to the Sun and back involved more than just heat and gravity. The worst obstacle was the turbulence!
“It would have been great to see if we could have solved the problem, though.” Kepler’s eyes shone for a moment. “There were plans.”
“But then the Vesarius found Tymbrimi ships in Cygnus,” Jacob said.
“Yes. So we’ll never find out. The plans were drawn up when I was just a boy. Now they’re hopelessly obsolete. And it’s probably just as well… There would have been inescapable losses, even deaths, if we’d done it without stasis… Control of timeflow is the key to Sundiver now, and I certainly wouldn’t complain about the results.”
The scientist’s expression suddenly darkened. “That is, until now.”
Kepler fell silent and stared at the carpet. Jacob watched him for a moment, then covered his mouth and coughed.
“While we’re on the subject, I’ve noticed that there isn’t any mention of Sun Ghosts on the Datanet, or even in a special request from the Library… and I have a 1-AB permit. I was wondering if you could spare some of your reports on the subject, to study during the trip?”
Kepler looked away from Jacob nervously.
“We weren’t quite ready to let the data off Mercury yet, Mr. Demwa. There… are political considerations to this discovery that, uh, will delay your briefing until we get to the base. I’m sure that all of your questions will be answered there.” He looked so genuinely ashamed that Jacob decided to drop the matter for the moment. But this was not a good sign.
“I might take a liberty in adding one piece of information,” Fagin said. “There has been another dive since our meeting, Jacob, and on that dive, we are told, only the first and more prosaic species of Solarian was observed. Not the second variety which has caused Dr. Kepler so much concern.”
Jacob was still confused by the hurried explanations Kepler had given of the two types of Sun-creatures so far observed.
“Now I take it that type was your herbivore?”
“Not herbivore!” Kepler interjected. “A magnetovore. It feeds on magnetic field energy. That type is actually becoming rather well understood, however…”
“I interrupt! In the most unctuous wish that I be forgiven for the intrusion, I urge discretion. A stranger approaches.” Fagin’s upper branches rustled against the ceiling.
Jacob turned to look at the doorway, a bit shocked that anything would bring Fagin to interrupt another’s sentence. Dismally he realized that this was still another sign that he had stepped into a politically tense situation, and he still knew none of the rules.
I don’t hear anything, he thought. Then Pierre LaRoque stood at the door, a drink in his hand and his always florid face further flushed. The man’s initial smile broadened when he saw Fagin and Bubbacub. He entered and gave Jacob a jovial slap on the back, insisting that he be introduced right away.
Jacob internalized a shrug.
He performed the introductions slowly. LaRoque was impressed, and he bowed deeply to Bubbacub.
“Ab-Kisa-ab-Soro-ab-Hul-ab-Puber! And two clients, what were they, Demwa? Jello and something? I’m honored to meet a sophont of the Soro line in person! I have studied the language of your ancestrals, whom we may someday show to be ours as well! The Soro tongue is so similar to Proto-Semitic, and Proto-Bantu also!”
Bubbacub’s cilia bristled above his eyes. The Pil, through his Vodor, began to make voice with a complicated, alliterative, incomprehensible speech. Then the alien’s jaws made short, sharp snaps and a high pitched growling could be heard, half amplified by the Vodor. From behind Jacob, Fagin answered in a clicking and rumbling tongue. Bubbacub turned to face him, black eyes hot as he answered with a throaty growl, waving a stubby arm in a slash in LaRoque’s direction. The Kanten’s trilling reply sent a chill down Jacob’s back.
Bubbacub swiveled and stamped out of the room without a further word to the humans.
For a dumbfounded instant, LaRoque said nothing. Then, he looked at Jacob plaintively. “What is it I did, please?”
Jacob sighed, “Maybe he doesn’t like being called a cousin of yours, LaRoque.” He turned to Kepler to change the subject. The scientist was staring at the door through which Bubbacub left.
“Dr. Kepler, if you haven’t any specific data on board, perhaps you could lend me some basic solar physics texts and some background histories on Sun-diver itself?”
“I’d be delighted to, Mr. Demwa.” Kepler nodded. “I’ll send them to you by dinner time.” His mind appeared to be elsewhere.
“I too!” LaRoque cried. “I am an accredited journalist and I demand the background upon your infamous endeavor, Mr. Director!”
After a moment’s startlement, Jacob shrugged. Have to hand it to LaRoque. Chutzhpa can be easily mistaken for resiliency.
Kepler smiled, as if he had not heard. “I beg your pardon?”
“The great conceit! This ‘Sundiver Project’ of yours, which takes money that could go to the deserts of Earth for reclamation, or to a greater Library for our world!
“The vanity of this project, to study what our betters understood perfectly before we were apes!”
“Now see here, sir. The Confederacy bar funded this research…” Kepler reddened.
“Research! Ree-search it is. You re-search for that which is already in the Libraries of the Galaxy, and shame us all by making humans out to be fools!”
“LaRoque…” Jacob began, but the man wouldn’t shut up.
“And what of your Confederacy! They stuff the Elders into reservations, like the old-time Indians of America! They keep access to the Branch Library out of the hands of the people! They allow continuation of this absurdity that all laugh at us for, this claim of spontaneous intelligence!”
Kepler backed away from LaRoque’s vehemence. The color drained out of his face and he stammered.
“I… I don’t think…”
“LaRoque! Come on, cut it out!”
Jacob grabbed his shoulder and pulled him over to whisper urgently in his ear.
“Come on man, you don’t want to shame us in front of the venerable Kanten Fagin, do you?”