Drowning World (30 page)

“It's special squared.” Once inside the hangar, she was able to properly fasten her rain gear. “I had a visitor this morning. He showed me something. I could just tell you about it, but I think you should see it for yourself.”

“Well, what is it?” Despite the press of her own work, she knew how important it was to show an interest in her mate's vocation.

When he turned back to her, his eyes were alive with the childlike delight all scientists express at times of great discovery. “A mushroom.”

She started to say something, closed her mouth. There were no mushrooms on Fluva. A mushroom was a terrestrial growth. But there were innumerable analogs among the flourishing fungi of the endless forest. “Mushroom” was Jack's way of preparing her to see something familiar.

It better contain a genetic chain for curing something significant, she decided firmly. Or taste like Kansastan veal. She didn't like having her time wasted, even by her husband.

A driver was waiting for them in the open skimmer. As she climbed in, she noted with some discomfort that his greeting grin was directed not at her face but at a less public portion of her anatomy. This despite her official standing and the presence of her husband.

Settling excitedly into one of the three empty seats, Jack introduced the driver. “Lauren, meet Hasa. Hasa, this is my wife—the chief administrator.”

Their pilot had the canopy sealing and the skimmer ready to go even before she was properly seated. “Pleasure, Administrator. What the hell took you so long to send someone out after me? And as long as you were at it, couldn't you have sent a couple of competent human techs instead of a stinking two-trunks and a moronic long-monkey?” Raising the skimmer, he scraped not one but two other parked craft as he recklessly gunned the compact vehicle out of the hangar and toward the forest, sending several pedestrians and the angry pilot of a delivery vehicle scattering for cover.

And that was her introduction to the exceedingly clever and much reviled Shadrach Hasselemoga.

After more than an hour in the skimmer with him, she, too, would not have been especially disappointed to see him vanish permanently into the depths of the unforgiving Viisiiviisii. But when they finally set down in a pile of fallen, decaying trees and Jack began to explain what their guide had located, she forgot all about his rude stares and loutish behavior.

Like magic, the black tendrils responded smoothly to her hand movements. Around them, the varzea sang and hooted and cackled. Hasa spoke while keeping watch, side arm at the ready.

“I came out searching as soon as I got cleaned up and had a decent meal. Took a few days, but it was a lot easier since I knew exactly what I was looking for. Found this occurrence a couple of days ago. Flew back into town, called for a meeting with a suitable specialist in the science division, ended up talking to Jack, here.” He spit at something slender, bright, and chartreuse that scrambled to scurry away from his spit. “Didn't know he was married to the chief administrator. Makes things easier.” He indicated the bobbing, weaving rhizomorphs. “Ask it which way to town.”

“Ask it?” Kneeling beside the hypnotic ebon filaments, she looked questioningly at Jack. “Even if it could understand me, it has no ears.”

Her husband was grinning like a little boy who'd just had his allowance doubled. “Turns out there are cilia on specialized rhizomorphs that can sense and interpret vibrations in the air. Not all that different, really, from the way the tympanum in your ears handles sound waves.”

As might be expected, she still found it all hard to believe. “Okay, I'll accept that. But sensing vibrations is one thing. Understanding them, deciphering them, is something else.”

Moving close to her, Hasa reached down to caress the dozens of erect rhizomorphs. They lay down against his open palm like cats' paws. Observing the interaction, it was difficult to deny that some kind of connection was being made.

“I've been trying to train this one. Get it to connect words, sounds, with actions. It's very slow. For something so vast, it's not very smart. On the other hand,” he said as he drew his hand back, “it's hard to say what kind of smarts the pannula does have. I'm not the guy to find that out.” He nodded at Jack. “That's a job for your partner and his fellow dirt-rooters. Me, I just find stuff. Like my women, all my evaluations are quickies.” He moved a little too close. “Go on, Administrator. Put your lips right up next to the filaments and ask it, ‘Which way to town?' ”

She hesitated. Given their present proximity, deliberately moving away from Hasa would only alert Jack to her disquiet. So, doing her best to ignore the husky, shameless presence beside her, she did as she was told, leaning forward until her mouth was almost touching several of the coiled black strands.

“Which . . . way . . . to . . . town?” As she mouthed each word slowly and deliberately, she saw what appeared to be very fine hairs lining several tendrils quiver as if in a gentle breeze.

As soon as she finished and straightened, every one of the dozens of slender tendrils dropped flat against the wood they were slowly decomposing. Flat and pointed in the direction of the center of Taulau.

Hasa rose triumphantly from his crouch. “Don't know why the pannula never made direct contact with the Sakuntala. Maybe their smell, maybe something else. Sakuntala don't know, either. Same goes for the Deyzara. Another mystery for the mycologists to resolve.” He gazed paternally down at the tendrils, which had begun to rise skyward again.

“I'm gonna call it
Xenoarmillaria fluva hasselemoga
.” He eyed her husband. “Jack says the naming of it is mine by right. Ain't that right, Jack?”

“
Xenoarmillaria fluva
would be taxonomically easier,” the scientist replied.

“Nope.
Xenoarmillaria fluva hasselemoga
it is. Unless you or one of your squinty-eyes is gonna argue about it.”

“No.” Jack sighed good-naturedly “As you are the discoverer, it's yours to name.”

Lauren had turned to inspect the handsome reddish-purple basidiocarps emerging from a nearby fallen trunk. “What about input from your companions on your difficult journey to the village where you were finally picked up?”

Hasa made a face. “They didn't see anything. I found it. Me. They didn't believe me about it even after I explained everything to them. I'm the sole discoverer, and I expect to be treated as such.”

“I'm sure you will be.” Commonwealth citizen or not, she decided, she positively did not like this man. Skilled and qualified he might be, but he was also vulgar, shallow, boastful, conceited, and self-centered. Furthermore, she did not like the way he looked at her at all. It was certainly not with the respect due the Commonwealth's ranking representative on Fluva.

“I want a parade,” he declared brashly. “I want an official proclamation acknowledging my accomplishment. It's not every day a new intelligent species is discovered.”

She eyed him dryly. The more she learned about the pannula's discoverer, the less enthused she was able to be about the undeniably astonishing discovery itself. “Anything else you want?”

He leered at her so blatantly she would have slapped him except for the distance between them. Jack never noticed the voiceless exchange. He was too busy examining exposed mycelium.

There was not much she could do by way of reprisal. Jack and a totally enthralled team from his department validated the obnoxious bioprospector's claims. The two members of the first rescue party, the Sakuntala Jemunu-jah and the Deyzara Masurathoo, did not dispute Hasa's claim of sole finding. As much as she disliked having to do so, she was forced to affix her official endorsement to the affidavit of discovery that was forwarded a week later to Commonwealth Science Headquarters on Earth and Hivehom.

Compensation for having to tender congratulations to a repellent specimen like Hasa came in the form of an unexpected and unusually expeditious reply from Earth to her most recent communiqué. She read through the lengthy space-minus response several times. Only when she was sure it meant everything it said and that she fully understood all the implications did she decide to call the summit.

20

I
t was as big a room as could be safely, easily, and reasonably erected on Fluva. Considering that the entire structure was suspended by strilk cables from a combination of pylons and trees, it was relatively spacious. The astonishingly lightweight dome itself was made from an aerogel alloy. Not as strong as plexalloy, but it didn't have to be. The crystal-clear structure had been blown into place, not poured or welded.

Beneath the arching transparency were curving walls of similar material, stained to translucence to block out views of the town and varzea outside. The sturdy interior walls had been covered with patterned tri-reliefs of scenes from the Viisiiviisii and of Deyzara and Sakuntala village life.

Filling the wall at the far end of the circular edifice was a grand semidrift map of the Commonwealth, framed with quotations from the United Church and symbols of both secular and spiritual power. The overall effect on someone entering from the outside was inspiring without being oppressive. It ought to be: the entire layout had been vetted by the appropriate branches of the Commonwealth Department for Contact with New Sentient Species, Class V sector. Every visual effect was intentional and nothing had been left to chance—or improvisation.

Matthias liked the building. She would have preferred to have had her offices in the large, airy space. But the dome had been designed to accommodate and impress large groups, not to facilitate the often dull, boring work of daily administration. It was entirely functional, but not for bureaucrats.

The dais behind which she stood was equipped with instrumentation that would allow her to amplify her voice, have it instantly and simultaneously translated into as many as a hundred different languages, defend her position from attack by explosive and energy weapons, project elaborate tridee diagrams and constructs into the air between her and the audience, and, if necessary, supply a quick meal. It faced dozens of seats. Some balanced on three legs in the style favored by the Deyzara. Others were suspended in the fashion of the Sakuntala. Not from the dome, which could not handle such weight, but from graceful arcs of supportive composite. No column of rain fell through the center of the building in the manner of traditional Sakuntala meetinghouses. Humans desired to avoid the relentless, unending downpours of Fluva, not invite it inside their buildings. That much leeway in construction had been granted to her predecessors.

The steady patter of rain was a distant susurration high overhead. Unlike individual rain gear, the roof of the gathering chamber was not static-charged to repel moisture. Raindrops ran in all directions from its apex, forming an attractive pattern overhead that gently dispersed the light falling within. The combination of smoothly dispersed liquid and distant beating had a soothing effect, which was exactly what its designers had intended.

Certainly none of the venerable personages who were slowly filling the available seats were exhibiting overt hostility to one another, although plenty of that lay seething beneath their diplomatic exteriors. She perceived it in the agitated way the Deyzara shifted their trunks, in the swift, short flicking of Sakuntala tails and ears. For now, it was enough that no one took a swing at another or openly flaunted weaponry.

While she had not personally made the acquaintance of everyone present, there were enough familiar faces to make her feel comfortable. On the indigenous side, Naneci-tok was present together with a small retinue representing the burgeoning Sakuntala merchant class. Jemunu-jah sat on her immediate left, in the place of honored influence. The administrator also recognized Cecolou, head of the powerful and influential C'Tiu clan, and a few others.

Representing the Deyzara, Masurathoo sat in front in the middle of a row of respected members of the mercantile and social communities. Her attention tended to focus on the assembling Sakuntala. Not because she favored them, but because the body wrappings worn by the Deyzara were blinding in their richness and the sheer brilliance of their color schemes. The attractive strappings and mottled fur of the Sakuntala were subdued by comparison.

She was not present to judge appearances, however. When everyone had been seated, she moved one finger over a concealed portion of the dais. Instantly a slowly rotating three-dimensional map of the Commonwealth materialized above the heads of the assembled locals. It had the desired effect of stopping conversation.

“Like it or not, this is what you are a part of. What you make of your part in it is up to you.” She zoomed in on Fluva, a cloud-swathed world circling a hot yellow sun. “It may not seem like much in the scheme of things, but this is your home. It's a nice place, though more to your liking than to my kind. It belongs to you.” She paused for emphasis. “
All
of you.”

A few subdued mutterings rose from the back rows of the assembled Sakuntala. They were matched by contentious hoots from within the crowd of seated Deyzara.

“I am pleased to announce,” she declared, utilizing her prerogative as chief administrator to amplify her voice sufficient to drown out the incipient pugnacity on both sides, “that pursuant to my recent exchange of communications with Commonwealth center of operations, Fluva has now been upgraded from qualified to full Class Five status.” Expectant, curious stares greeted her declaration. “It means that Fluva will receive proportionately more attention from the relevant Commonwealth departments.” The silence was sustained. “Also, more aid, in the form of both material and credit.”

That finally prompted the appropriate Sakuntala and Deyzara equivalents of applause. She continued.

“As a corollary to this official change of status, my own standing has similarly been upgraded.” She shifted her stance behind the dais. “I will now be able to do more on my own, without having to wait for authorization from Earth or Hivehom. I can clear more exports, approve a greater volume of imports, sanction new aid for specific causes, and license more businesses. Among other things. For the first time I can also,” she added casually, “approve the use of force to settle local disputes.”

That provoked sufficient howling and hooting to drown out the sound of rain splattering on the top of the transparent dome. The noise only began to die down when Cecolou-tiu rose from her chair. Even the Deyzara quieted their hooting, mindful of the revered Hata's status among her kind.

An aged but still steady six-fingered hand waved in the administrator's direction. “Humans may not interfere in affairs between sentient native species. I know this thing to be true because I have studied it.” Ears, tail, and hand waved as one in the direction of the seated Deyzara. “You may exercise your law with the interlopers, but by your own regulations you cannot do so among the Sakuntala.” Despite her age, the elder succeeded in conveying an ample measure of confidence. Yelps and yowls from her fellows showed how much her short speech was appreciated.

Matthias was not taken aback by it because she had come prepared for it.

“The esteemed Hata of the C'Tiu is right. No Commonwealth authority may intervene forcibly in sentient native affairs.” She paused for effect. “Unless it is to defend the interests of a second group of sentients who have no way of protecting themselves.”

A Hata-niu of the P'Lua clan slipped out of her seat to speak. “The Deyzara have many ways protect themselves. That they choose not use them does not mean they not exist.” Muted Sakuntala laughter rose from her kinfolk, and a number of the seated Deyzara tensed visibly.

“I was not speaking of the Deyzara.” Matthias waited for the noise to die down before resuming. “I was referring to the pannula.”

That
got their attention. As she knew it would.

One of the senior Hata-yuiquerus who had chosen not to fight with the extremists slipped out of his chair so forcefully that it swung wildly and banged into his neighbor. Indignation induced both Sakuntala to ignore the outrageous breach of etiquette. From behind the safety of the dais, Matthias watched and listened with interest. She was not sure she had ever seen a Sakuntala sputter before.

“The pannula is forest spirit, nothing more. It is not intelligent. What manner of trick is this?”

“It is no trick,” she assured the speaker and the rest of her now completely attentive audience. “While the precise level of pannula sentience remains a matter for analysis, over the past several days Commonwealth researchers working in the Viisiiviisii have determined that a sufficient minimum level of awareness is present to qualify the species for such status. It therefore falls under Commonwealth regulations and policy governing the protection of particularly primitive intelligent species. The relevant Commonwealth law states that where multiple intelligences are perceived to be under threat, the most primal and helpless are to receive a proportionately greater degree of protection.” She raised a hand to forestall the rising tide of protest—from both of the assembled groups.

“That means that I now have permission to send peaceforcers to intervene in any local dispute that I or my scientific people believe threatens the well-being of local pannula.”

The Hata-yuiqueru's tone was acidic. “No Sakuntala is at war with the pannula.” A few laughs greeted his response. They were less in number and intensity than previously and possessed of an underlying nervousness.

“Nor, I must say, is any Deyzara,” added a well-known and floridly attired merchant from the other side of the dome.

“It is not a question of making war, but of danger and damage from wider conflicts spilling over to affect the pannula, who, after all, are unable to move out of the way of such clashes.” She did not smile. “I assure you that the Commonwealth government takes such things very seriously.”

“This a joke!” The speaker and several of the Sakuntala seated around him started to slip from their chairs, preparatory to walking out of the summit.

“If the Sakuntala or anyone else,” she declared firmly, turning up the volume, “willfully disregard this judgment, they will have to deal with Commonwealth justice. Given the sensitivity of the matter, I am informed that more peaceforcers will soon be arriving to reinforce those already under my authority. As the safety and security of a newly eligible intelligent species is involved, they will be bringing with them heavy weapons of a type not yet seen on Fluva.”

The dissenters paused. The warriors of the Sakuntala were bold, skillful, and brave, but they were not stupid. They knew what modern weapons could do. Those that had been obtained by the radicals for use against the Deyzara were impressive enough. They did not doubt that the Commonwealth to which they now belonged could fabricate devices even more lethal.

Cecolou-tiu spoke into the ensuing silence. “What you want of us?”

“Stop fighting each other. The extremists' move to drive the Deyzara off Fluva has devolved into internecine combat. That, too, must cease. You are going to have to learn how to live and work side by side without these intermittent explosions of senseless violence. The Deyzara are on Fluva to stay.” Soft hoots of approval rose from the side of the chamber that was filled with their representatives.

“And regulations designed to protect the ingenuous Sakuntala from mercantile predation by their more commercially sophisticated neighbors will be enforced by every means at my command.” To this the Sakuntala responded with knowing, and appreciative, yowls of awareness.

“Thanks to the official upgrading in status, Commonwealth instruments and materials for improving the education and situation of all intelligences on Fluva will be increased.” Leaning forward against the dais, she tried to meet as many watching eyes as possible. “My authority allows me to favor whichever species proves to be the most cooperative and willing to embrace Commonwealth principles and values. If the Sakuntala continue to wage war on their neighbors and themselves, it could be the Deyzara. If certain Deyzara persist in using their greater knowledge of Commonwealth ways to take advantage of and impoverish their fellow citizens, it could be the Sakuntala.” She paused meaningfully.

“If both the Deyzara and the Sakuntala continue as they have before, then the Commonwealth Authority on Fluva will have no choice but to favor the interests of the pannula to the exclusion of all else.”

A mixture of shock and disbelief ran through the entire assembly. No threats or words from a human speaker could instantly banish the fear the Deyzara felt for the Sakuntala or the Sakuntala's dislike of the two-trunks. But they were forced to put aside their mutual aversion and distrust of each other out of fear of being one day dominated by . . . a fungus.

Naneci-tok quite liked what the humans often called mushrooms—to eat. The idea that she and her people might have important decisions foisted on them by such growths, or by humans acting on behalf of such growths, no matter how “intelligent” the humans claimed the growths were, was considerably less palatable.

“You all are going to have to learn how to live and work together,” Matthias was saying. “That's what the Commonwealth is all about: many different species living and working together to grow knowledge, provide for a common defense, and offer the chance at a good life for everyone living within its stellar boundaries regardless of shape, size, color, belief, or what they respirate. The United Church embraces all sentiences. To my knowledge, it has never been able to count a fungoid intelligence among its flock. Possibly the pannula will be the first.”