"Do you know what day it is?"
"Hell, of course I do. It's the fifteenth of Winter, isn't it?"
"It's the day New Argosy was supposed to arrive," his father told him. "I wasn't the only one drinking last night. Everybody was feeling pretty lousy about it—only maybe I had more reason than most."
"Sure," Viktor said in disgust. "You've always got a reason. You can't figure out why the stars flare, you don't know what's happening on Nebo, you're all bent out of shape because of the spectral shifts—so you get drunk. Any reason's a good reason to get a load on, isn't it?"
"So I find it, yes," his father said comfortably.
"Oh, hell, Dad! What's the use of worrying about all those far-off things? Why can't you get yourself straight and live in the life we've got, instead of screwing yourself around about things a million kilometers away that really don't affect us here anyway?"
His father looked at him soberly and then poured himself another drink. "You don't know everything, Vik," he observed. "Do you know where Billy Stockbridge is?"
"Don't have a clue! Don't care. I'm talking about you."
"He's arranging for a town meeting tomorrow. We've got something to tell them, and I guess you'd say it really does affect us. We've been monitoring the insolation pretty carefully for about a month now, ever since Billy first saw something funny about it."
"What's funny?"
"I don't actually mean 'funny,' " his father said apologetically. "I'm afraid there isn't any fun in it at all. We decided not to say anything until we were absolutely sure; we didn't want everybody getting upset unless they absolutely had to—"
"Say anything about what, damn you?"
"About the insolation, Vik. It's dropping. The sun's radiating less heat and light every day. Pretty soon people will notice it. Pretty soon—"
He stopped and thought for a moment, then poured himself another drink.
"Pretty soon," he said, holding the glass up to look at it, "it's going to be getting cold around here."
CHAPTER 9
Although Wan-To was vastly more than any human, he did have some human traits—even some that some humans might have considered endearing. He took the same joys in a job well done as any human hobbyist.
So when he finished putting his star-moving project together, he took a little time to watch it run. It gave him pleasure to see how well his matter analogues had carried out their tasks. The star clusters he had selected were all in motion now, and picking up speed. Each of the stars involved was dimming slightly—naturally enough, as much of each star's energy was going into the manufacture of graviscalars rather than radiating away as light and heat. Each star carried with it its planets, moons, comets, and asteroids, all caught up in the graviscalar sweep. His five matter analogues were still there. He could talk to them and give them further instructions if he had any to give. But they had slowed to standby mode, waiting out the time until their program called on them to go into action again.
More than that, it was working! He saw with glee that his combative relatives had seen what he had wanted them to see and done just as he had planned for them to do. Of the five star groups Wan-To had sent on their way, two had already been zapped in toto by one or another of his colleagues, each single star torn apart. Two others were under attack. That amused Wan-To. Obviously somebody had come to the desired conclusion that he was in one of those fugitive stars, trying to make a getaway in that unlikely fashion. Well, they would give that up by and by, he was sure. The systems run by Doppels One and Four were now history, and those of Doppels Three and Five were being hit—though not at all with the first enthusiasm—and would no doubt soon be gone, as well.
The trouble was, he found that watching the project operate was not nearly as interesting as making it in the first place—just like any human hobbyist. Wan-To was beginning to feel bored.
And lonely.
When Wan-To couldn't stand the loneliness anymore, the first one he called was Ftt. Ftt was a pretty safe opponent—if he really was an opponent—because he wasn't all that powerful, or all that smart. Wan-To had created him toward the end of his efforts to make company for himself, by which time he had realized the dangers of making exact copies. Of course, even the handicapped ones might develop in ways he hadn't planned, but he didn't really think there was much to fear from Ftt.
It didn't matter what he thought, in the event. There was no answer from Ftt; not from him, and not from either of the other two silent ones, either.
That gave Wan-To some pause. One of them, Pooketih, was hardly more threatening than little Ftt. But the remaining one of the silent group was Mromm, and he was something quite different. Wan-To had made him second, right after he had made Haigh-tik, and although he had begun to be cautious in how much of himself he copied into his offspring, Mromm still had a lot of shrewdness and powers not much less than Wan-To's own. Mromm was very capable—almost as capable as Wan-To himself—of maintaining silence until he had a good target to aim at.
Wan-To was beginning to feel uneasy.
When he tried again it was to the dumbest and weakest of the lot, Wan-Wan-Wan, and Wan-Wan-Wan didn't answer either. In his case, Wan-To considered, it wasn't likely he was lying in wait. Something had happened to him. Wan-Wan-Wan had tried calling Wan-To, and if he didn't respond now the chances were very good that Wan-Wan-Wan wasn't with them anymore. That angered Wan-To; who of his offspring would be mean enough to kill off poor Wan-Wan-Wan?
The answer was, any of them. Given a good reason, he would have done it himself.
Wan-To persevered—cautiously—and by and by he did get some responses.
But when he finished talking to the ones who responded, he knew very little more than before. Merrerret and Hghumm said they were shocked that anyone would do anything like that. So did Floom-eppit, Gorrrk, and Gghoom-ekki, but they added that they suspected Wan-To himself.
Of course, they all put their own individual personalities into what they said. They did have individual personalities. Wan-To had made them that way. He had randomized some of the traits he had given them—a sort of Monte Carlo process, familiar to Earthly mathematicians—and so Floom-eppit was a joker, Hghumm a tedious bore, Gorrrk, an unstoppable talker if you gave him the chance. It took Wan-To a long time to get rid of Gorrrk, and then he faced the one he was most worried about.
Haigh-tik was his first-born, and the one most like himself.
That didn't mean they were exactly the same. Even identical copies began to vary with time and the "chemistry" of the stars they inhabited; the dichotomy between nature and nurture was strong among Wan-To and his kind, just as on Earth. Wan-To was very cautious talking to Haigh-tik. After they had exchanged remarks on the flare stars (neither exactly accusing the other, but neither excluding the possibility, either), Haigh-tik offered:
"Have you noticed? Several groups of stars are moving."
"Oh, yes," Wan-To said smoothly. "I've been wondering what was going on."
"Yes," Haigh-tik said. There was silence for a moment, then he added, "All these things worry me. I'd hate it if we messed up this galaxy, too. I don't want to move. I really like it where I am."
"It's a nice star, then?" Wan-To asked, not missing a beat. "I know you like the big, hot ones."
"Why take a dwarf when you can have a giant?" Haigh-tik responded, with the equivalent of a shrug. "They're much better. You have so much space. And so much power."