When the screen blanked I leaned back, cogitating upon the unmentioned possibilities raised by the commander, dismissing the least probable immediately and accepting provisionally the most likely—that, as the flow of images from Danann had suggested, unforeseen difficulties in obtaining access to the ancient structures had indeed occurred. Even so, perhaps a closer analysis of the building sizes and positions, revealed by overhead imaging, might suggest something more of the culture.
Already, the preliminary images I had scrutinized suggested that Danann was neither a colonized world nor one that had been long inhabited. The architecture was all of the same style, and the patterns of structural placement strongly indicated that the entire complex, the huge oval of structures and boulevards or canals, of open spaces or lakes, or both, had been designed as a unit, and built within a short time—short for that culture, at least. Likewise, the geographical scans of the planet itself were unusual. It had a number of the telltale features of a standard “water” world that had evolved in the habitable zone of a “G” class star—except that several had been adapted. The depressions that were rilled with ice and seemed to be frozen oceans displayed a regularity of depth and gradient, as if they had been modified or engineered, and the “continents” were regular, without the fractal-like features that naturally evolving coastlines displayed. While I had not seen any more detailed reports from the geologists, I would have been more than mildly surprised if they had not come up with better-supported conclusions along the same general thrust as mine.
The ratio of structure heights to their breadth in the single “city” was also unusual, because, first, those ratios remained constant by area across the entire urbanized area, and, second, the tallest towers in one section were exactly the same height as the tallest towers in the next section. Not only that, but there were exactly the same proportions of buildings of various sizes in each area, although their arrangement within each of those areas varied to some degree, and all the buildings were arced or curved. Most of the boulevards seemed to be curved in some fashion as well, and all the lakes were ovals. The lack of organic remains—of any type—were also suggestive of a planet not inhabited for long.
By the time I had gone back over my preliminary conclusions, doubtless duplicating the analyses of others, the time for the midday meal was approaching. If I could not descend to Danann myself, it might prove of some utility to obtain information from someone who had done so, perhaps one of the pilots, since I was not aware of the return of any team members who dealt in subjects related to mine.
The mess was but two-thirds rilled, and there were a number of tables with spaces. There were two shuttle pilots at the mess—Lieutenant Lerrys and Lieutenant Chang—but Lerrys was seated with a number of others, and there were no vacant seats at that table. Lieutenant Chang was seated beside Major Tepper, but the chair on her other side was vacant.
“I hope you won’t mind if I join you,” I offered.
“Of course not, Professor,” replied Major Tepper.
Lieutenant Chang nodded, politely and distantly.
The steward served the lieutenant coffee, and returned shortly with bergamot tea for me—formulated, but better than ersatz coffee. I listened, hoping for a conversational opening, not wishing to insert myself excessively.
“… Lerrys had shuttle one early this morning… brought up more ice samples… say there are frozen microorganisms in the ice… but different… still carbon-based… and something like DNA…” That was Alexa Neison. She was a linguist, and she was probably in the same situation as I was. It is incredibly difficult to study a language when no one has found any records of such, or even if the Danannians communicated in a fashion similar enough to us that we would even recognize such communications as language.
“… Dr. Koch contends that any life that evolves in what we term the habitable zone will have to be carbon-based…”
“… could still be totally alien to us…”
I finished a sip of the tea and decided to risk opening conversation with the silent lieutenant to my right. “You have made a number of descents to Danann.”
“A few.”
“I know it’s not in the best of manners, and I would not presume to intrude, but I would greatly appreciate any insights you might have, Lieutenant, about what you’ve seen.”
“Asking me, Professor? Pilots pilot. We’re not scientists.”
“You are a professional, and I am most certain you have observed things that others have not.”
“You’d better answer him, Lieutenant.” Tepper laughed. “Professors are known to be tenacious.”
“Don’t know what that could be.”
“You have doubtless seen the inhabited area from above more than others.”
“You can’t see anything. Not with your eyes. It’s dark. Have to use imaging and radar to get your descent angle to the landing zone.”
“That suggests that the images reveal something…” I let my words slide away, wondering why she was so reluctant to talk about what she had seen down on Danann, or even what she had not.
Had she concealed a sigh? I waited, although patience has never been the greatest of my virtues. Part of the waiting time was mitigated by the arrival of the meal, served quickly by a pair of stewards, who set plates before everyone at the table—nanite-formulated fowl in white sauce with ersatz rice and equally ersatz snap beans.
I kept looking patiently at the lieutenant until she answered.
“The screens show patterns. Leastwise, they look like patterns—interlocking ovals. Can’t recall seeing any straight lines. Everything’s curved. Even what they call the boulevards.” Lieutenant Chang looked at me. She had deep gray eyes. “What do you think that means?”
“Everything about the design of an artifact or a city conveys a meaning. Whether we discern the rationale for such a design is another question.” I’d noted the prevalence of curves, but had not considered that there were no straight lines. Had I seen any? I couldn’t recall.
“Professor?” asked Lieutenant Chang.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about your observation. I had noted the predominance of curves and arcs in the layout and construction of the city, if that is indeed what it is, but I honestly had not recognized that there were no straight lines at all.”
“The screens don’t show any. Saved some of the images and checked later. Don’t have images for the whole complex, just the sections we overfly and those adjoining. None of them have any straight lines.”
“Then it is unlikely that there are any straight lines in the design and layout of the complex, because each section replicates in some fashion the components of every other section, and each section is somewhat like an interlocking oval.”
“You’re taking my word for that?”
I inclined my head to the lieutenant. “I have no doubt that, if you have observed something, it is indeed as you have observed it.”
Major Tepper smothered a laugh. “Lieutenant Chang is known for her straightforward manner.”
“I appreciate that. While I have some expertise in unraveling historical indirections, my abilities at such in personal interactions leave much to be desired.” The interplay between the two officers suggested that there was much more there than met the eye. I wasn’t about to pry into it, especially not at lunch among the lieutenant’s superior and others I knew little more than by name.
Because I was at a loss at how and with what I might further engage Lieutenant Chang without revealing more than I desired, I took immediate refuge in the meal before me.
“You’re a historian, aren’t you?” asked Alexa Neison after a time.