Ferward snorted softly, as if to suggest that oversimplifying was the least of the problems in Soren’s explanation, then tumed to Tomas. “Why do you think that the battle couldn’t have turned out any other way?”
“The Comity has better equipment, better training, and, in this case, more modem ships and weapons. D.S.S. also would not have sent us off, after investing all the credits in this expedition, without very able officers and crew.”
“Then why did the Sunnis even bother to attack?”
Even as that line of inquiry intrigued me, the trends I had seen so often had already answered my question— the internal dynamics of cultural self-preservation are far stronger than any external force or threat I pondered what Tomas might say.
He reflected for a moment “There are many possibilities, but I would suggest the most likely is that we present a great threat to their beliefs and way of life.”
“The Comity hasn’t ever attacked the Sunnis first.”
“Their holy book dates back over six thousand years, and one of the key lines in it says something like ‘the worst of beasts in God’s sight are the unbelievers, who will not believe…’ In their view, anyone who does not share their theocratic beliefs is one of those beasts.”
“They say that, but how can they believe it?” questioned Ferward.
“ ‘All truth comes from the Lord,’” countered Tomas. “If science, or a secular thinker, challenges what their imams declare as their God’s truth, they will follow the imam. In a technological society, being a true believer tends to create a certain schizoid behavior.”
“Even if that’s true, what does it have to do with this expedition?”
“What happens if we find the ruins of a great civilization that was totally inhuman?” asked Tomas. “What does that mean? Does it mean that there is a greater god than theirs? Or does it mean that their god is fickle and will abandon a great culture? Does it provide proof of a sort, perhaps, that there is no god?”
Ferward shrugged. “God is a figment of the imagination of the weak.”
“That could be,” I interjected, “but political and military history has been determined as much by what people believe to be the truth as what has been accurately verified as such. Facts and established principles have been ignored throughout history in favor of comforting and scientifically impossible beliefs. Recorded history is filled with cultures that have believed what we have determined is scientifically improbable, if not impossible. On ancient Earth, people were burned alive for asserting basic astronomical facts. Until three hundred years ago, it was technically a crime to teach basic brane theory on more than a hundred worlds in the Comity. It still is in the Worlds of the Covenant.”
“Stupid people. There are always stupid people,” Ferward retorted.
That might be, I reflected, but enough stupid people existed to support leaders and polity governments who catered to their beliefs. The idea that the existence of aliens had made the Magellan a military target was less than comforting, and yet I had to concur with the basic precepts that Tomas had advanced.
Ferward shook his head, more than a few times, as if to clear away an intellectually unappetizing proposition. The specialists in the so-called hard sciences have always had difficulty in comprehending, on an emotional and empathetic level, the inability of large segments of any population to embrace verified and unequivocally demonstrated aspects of the universe at variance with their personal comfort-values, all the while insisting that they were rational individuals. That phenomenon had been recognized early on by the political thinker Exton Land, who had categorized it as “me illusion of rationality.” Thousands of years had passed, and human beings continued to demonstrate the validity of his proposition.
Knowing that anything I said would fall on ears unwilling to comprehend that rational discourse had little effect on true believers of all stripes, I took refuge in a strong cup of synth-tea, and turned back toward Sorens and Melani.
26
Chang
Four hours after I docked shuttle two, I was back in the ready room. Didn’t have to be, but I wanted to use the big high-res screens there to see if space looked different when the Magellan translated. I was betting it wouldn’t, that translation mass had an effect. Braun wasn’t there. She’d just finished standby duty.
Major Tepper was in the corner talking to Rigney about something. Rigney was the only pilot I’d seen with a big bushy beard. Didn’t look that good on him. Be a mess, too, if he had to stay in armor for long.
Lerrys was watching the main screen. Turned around and gestured to me.
I walked over and settled into the restraint couch next to him.
“You came back here just to watch a translation on the farscreens, Jiendra? After your day?” He grinned.
“Nice boring translation ought to settle me down. What about you?” Fastened the restraint harness so I wouldn’t have to later.
“I just wanted to see if it’s as dark as the books say it is.”
“Books? The actual bound ones?”
“They’re my hobby. If you want to be accurate, I was talking about system manuals on-screen, but I think of all long written material as books.”
“Don’t they fall apart? Books?”
“Some do. Some don’t. It depends on how often they’re read and how well they’re cared for. It’s amazing how accurate some parts of the old science books are and how wrong others are. The older ones say that it’s dark in the void. Don’t see how it can be, but…”
Ten minutes to translation. Ten minutes to translation. Prepare for translation.
Got the announcement twice, once through the links and once through the speakers in the ready room. Military for you, redundancy in action. Checked my harness anyway.
The Gate filled the screen, a greenish white torus with a black-silver center opening almost a kay across. Frigging big Gate… biggest one I’d ever seen. Had to be to handle the Magellan. We seemed to hang short of it, while the Gate got bigger and bigger in the main wall screen.
Tepper dropped into the couch to my right. Didn’t look at me as she strapped in.
Five minutes to translation. All personnel in secure stations…
“Can’t be many other Gates that big.” Wanted to get a reaction from Tepper.
“I doubt there are many left that large. It’s based on the original Gates for colony ships.”
“Was it a colony Gate?”
“I’d doubt it, lieutenant, but I don’t know. Some things they don’t tell majors.”
“D.S.S. doesn’t seem to tell anyone much.”
“It’s called ‘need to know,’ and they think that makes it harder for people to find out.”
Major sounded skeptical about need to know. I’d always been skeptical. Seemed like the other folks found out anyway. The only ones who got hamstrung from lack of information were the ones who needed it most. The bureaucrats insisted on the secrecy. That might have worked back before nets and microtronics. Once data could be compressed so small that masses of it fit in speck of dust, most security measures were only delaying tactics. The Comity had used all the secrecy it could. We’d still been attacked before we got to the first Gate.
Stand by for Gate translation. “Stand by for Gate translation.”
Looked up at the screen again. Before we had seemed to be holding in space, short of the Gate. Now, we hurtled at the silvered blackness in the center of the Gate.