The Night's Dawn Trilogy (482 page)

It was an appropriate classification. Every surface inside the tube sprouted lengthy ribbon fronds of rubbery vegetation,
all of them reaching up for the geometric centre. Even those planted in the glass were growing directly away from the light,
something Joshua had never seen on any terracompatible world he’d visited, no matter how bizarre some of its aboriginal botany
and biochemistry.

The constant tangle of vegetation along the inside of the tube did however make movement very easy for the xenocs. They seemed
to glide along effortlessly through the topmost fringe, with the lower half of their bodies immersed in the brown fronds,
their limbs wriggling gently to control their motion. It was a wonderfully graceful action resulting from what was essentially
a mad combination of the smooth flick of a dolphin flipper and a human hand slapping at grab hoops.

Joshua admired it with mild envy, at the same time wondering just how long evolution would take to produce that kind of arrangement.
It was almost a case of symbiosis, which meant the fronds of vegetation would have to be
very
prevalent.

He couldn’t doubt these xenocs were intelligent beyond any Tyrathca vassal class the Confederation had encountered. They wore
electronic systems like clothes. The upper half of their bodies were covered in a garment that combined a string vest with
bandolier straps to which various modules were clipped, interspersed with tools and small canisters. They also went in for
exoaugmentation; lenses jutted out of eye sockets, while plenty of them had replaced upper-limb hands with cybernetic claws.

Joshua switched his sensor focus around them until he found one whose electronics seemed slightly better quality than the
others. Their styling was more slimline, with elegant key pads and displays. Some of the modules were actually embossed with
marmoreal patterns. A fast spectrographic scan said the metal was iron. Curious choice, he thought.

“I am Captain Joshua Calvert, and I apologize to Quantook-LOU,” he said. The communication block relayed his words into the
hooting whistles of Tyrathca-style speech, which he could just make out through the muffling of the SII suit’s silicon. “We
assumed the Tyrathca occupied this place.”

The creature his sensors were focused on opened its gnarled beak and chittered loudly. “Do you wish to leave now you have
found it is otherwise?”

“Not at all. We are delighted to have gained the knowledge of your existence. Could you tell me what you call yourselves?”

“My race is the Mosdva. For all of Tyrathca history we were their subjects. Their history has ended. Mastrit-PJ is our star
now.”

“Way to go,” Monica said over the general communication band.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Syrinx admonished. “They’re clearly from the same evolutionary chain.”

“Relevant observations only,” Joshua told them. “I mean, do we even need to carry on? We can be diplomatic here for a couple
of hours, then fly off to the nearest probable Tyrathca colony star to get what we need.”

“They have the same language and origin planet,” Parker said. “It’s highly probable they share the same stellar almanac. We
need to know a lot more before we even consider moving on.”

“Okay.” Joshua datavised his communication block back to its translation function. “You have achieved much here. My race has
never built any structure on such a scale as Tojolt-HI.”

“But you have built a most interesting ship.”

“Thank you.” He took a processor block from his belt slowly and carefully. It was one that he’d found in
Lady Mac
’s engineering workshop, a quarter of a century out of date and loaded with obsolete maintenance programs (they’d erased any
reference to starflight). The general management routine might be of some interest to the xenocs, especially from what he
could see of their own electronics. In fact, it might be a slightly too generous gift; half of their modules would have been
archaic back in the Twenty-third Century. “For you,” he told Quantook-LOU.

One of the other Mosdva slithered forwards through the foliage and gingerly took the block before hurrying back to Quantook-LOU.
The distributor of resources examined it before putting it in a pouch near the bottom of his torso garment.

“I thank you, Captain Joshua Calvert. In return, I would show you this section of Anthi-CL, of which you have expressed such
interest.”

“Was that cynicism?” Joshua asked his people.

“I don’t think so,” Oski said. “The Tyrathca language as we know it doesn’t have the carrier mechanism for that kind of nuance.
It can’t, because they don’t have cynicism.”

“Might be a good idea to keep the analysis program watching for those kind of patterns emerging.”

“I’ll second that,” Samuel said. “They’ve been bombarding us with sensor probes from the second that hatch opened. They’re
clearly looking for an advantage. This kind of mercantile behaviour is thankfully easy to appreciate. It almost makes them
human.”

“Wonderful. Sixteen thousand light years, and all we get to meet is the local equivalent of the Kulu Traders Association.”

“Joshua, your first priority is to understand exactly what position Quantook-LOU has within their social structure,” Parker
said. “Once that is known, we’ll be able to proceed quickly to a resolution. Their culture is plainly developed along different
lines from the Tyrathca, though I’m happy to say the basics of trade apparently remain a fundamental.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr Director.” And I wonder if
he
understands cynicism. “I would be honoured to see your dominion,” Joshua told the Mosdva.

“Accompany us, then. I will enlighten you.”

The whole Mosdva group turned, virtually in unison, and began their sliding glide along the vegetation. Joshua, who considered
himself highly proficient in freefall conditions, was fascinated by the manoeuvre. There was a lot of torque and inertia involved
with such a move; their midlimbs must apply a lot of pressure to the fronds. And the fronds themselves must be stronger than
they looked; try tugging a terrestrial palm like that and you’d rip it in half.

He cancelled the tak pad application on his boot soles and kicked off after them. Ultimately, he cheated, using the cold gas
jets of his armour’s manoeuvring pack as well as climbing a frond like a rope. When he reached the upper fringes, the fronds
now did their best to impede his progress; where they parted for any Mosdva, they formed elastic nets for him. The best method,
he found, was to stay above their tips altogether, and reach down as necessary to swing yourself along. Gauntlet tactile sensors
reported the vegetation was spongy, but with a solid spine.

Out of the four of them, he was the most agile, though he struggled to keep up with Quantook-LOU. And the serjeant’s motions
were plain painful to watch; Ione had not ventured into Tranquillity’s zero-gee sections very often.

The Mosdva had slowed to observe the progress of the humans, allowing them to catch up.

“You do not fly as fast as your ship, Captain Joshua Calvert,” Quantook-LOU said.

“Our species lives on planets. We’re accustomed to highgravity environments.”

“We know of planets. The Mosdva have many stories of Mastrit-PJ’s worlds before the expansion devoured them all. But there
are no pictures on file in Tojolt-HI, not after such a time. They are as legend, now.”

“I have many pictures of planets in my ship. I would welcome exchanging them for any pictures you do have of Mastrit-PJ’s
history.”

“A good first exchange. We are fortunate to have made contact with you, Captain Joshua Calvert.”

Joshua had been hanging on to a frond tip as he waited for the serjeant to catch up; now he realized the plant was wriggling
slightly. There certainly wasn’t enough of a breeze to do that.

“The fronds stir the air for us,” Quantook-LOU explained when he mentioned it. All plants on Tojolt-HI flexed gently; that
was why they’d originally been selected, and careful breeding had enhanced the trait. Air had to be moved in freefall, or
stagnant pockets of gas would build up, unpleasant and potentially lethal for animals and plants alike. The Mosdva still had
mechanical fans and ducts, but they were very much secondary systems.

“Not quite up to Edenist levels,” Sarha said.

“They’re edging towards biological solutions,” Ruben replied. “Leaving the mechanical behind.”

“You can’t use wholly biological systems here, not in this environment, it’s too hostile.”

“And there is precious little sign of genetic engineering techniques being employed,” Samuel said. “Quantook-LOU told us the
plants were bred. Cross-pollination is almost a lost art in human society, Adamist and Edenist alike. We shall have to be
more careful here than we originally expected, both in what we say and what we exchange with them. This society is static,
and it survives perfectly by being so. To introduce change, even in the form of concepts, could be disastrous to it.”

“Or save it,” Sarha said.

“From what? We are the only conceivable threat it faces.”

They progressed further along the tube, gradually encountering more Mosdva as they went. All of the xenocs stopped to watch
as the humans went past, slow and clumsy in comparison to their entourage. Mosdva children flashed about through the fronds,
incredibly agile. They burrowed deep below the tips in smooth dives and popped out everywhere, making sure they got a look
at the humans from all angles. Like the adults, they wore torso harnesses that contained a multitude of electronic modules—but
none of them had cybernetic implants.

Looking down past his gauntlets, Joshua could see straight through the corkscrew fronds. They weren’t as dense as he’d first
thought—a plantation rather than a jungle—which allowed him to piece together how the tube was constructed. There was an outer
casing, the ribbed section with glass on the sunside, and an opaque composite or metal on the darkside. Lining that on the
inside was a tightly packed spiral of transparent piping, studded with small copper-coloured annular apertures from which
the plants grew. Their roots were visible inside the pipe, just. The spiral was filled with an opaque and somewhat glutinous
fluid which cut down the sun’s intense red glare. It was also flecked with dark granules and a swirl of tiny bubbles, which
showed him how fast it was being pumped along.

The spirals contained either water or hydrocarbon compounds, Quantook-LOU said when Joshua asked what it was; its circulation
formed the basis for their whole recycling philosophy. Heat from the red giant was swiftly carried round to the darkside,
where it was disposed of via the thermal exchange mechanisms, generating electricity in the process. A range of algal species
flourished inside the various fluid types, absorbing Mosdva faecal waste and transforming it into nutrients for the plants,
which in turn maintained the atmosphere. The thickness of the spiral pipe (none under two and a half metres in diameter) meant
the fluid bulk also acted as an excellent protection from stellar radiation.

They were shown web tubes which specialised in high-yield arable plants. Living tubes, which were sectioned off by thin sheets
of silvery-white fabric. Industrial tubes, whose manufacturing machinery was strung out along the axis, just above the plant
tips. (“Condensation must be hell for them,” Oski said at that.) Huge public tubes thronging with Mosdva.

After two hours, they were in a section dedicated to what the translator program termed the Anthi-CL dominion’s
administrative class
. Joshua began to suspect a society structured along strictly aristocratic hierarchy lines. The vegetation was lusher here,
the technology less obtrusive. Personal tubes radiated away from the main branches, far more substantial than the living sections
they’d seen earlier and with a lower population density. Two thirds of their entourage dropped away once they entered. Those
that were left were heavily augmented with cybernetic prosthetics. No overt weapons, but the humans agreed they were police/
military.

Quantook-LOU stopped in a large bubble of transparent material, the junction for three small tubes. The surface was still
a spiral of pipe dotted with chunks of hardware, but there were no plants; and apart from the bubbles, the fluid was almost
clear. It gave a peerless view out over both darkside and sunside.

“My personal space,” Quantook-LOU said.

Joshua could just make out the misty smears of the nebula through the curving walls. Sharp-edged dissipater cones formed a
strange, close horizon. Sunside was a simple uniform mantle of red light. “It is matched with everything else we have seen
here,” he said.

“What of your world, Captain Joshua Calvert? Does it have sights to match this?”

The exchange of history began. Under the Mosdva’s urging, Joshua, Samuel, and Oski started off describing continents and oceans
(concepts which had to be clearly defined for the Mosdva—they’d even lost the words for them in their language), and moved
on to explain how humans had emerged from Africa to spread across Earth after the Ice Age glaciers retreated. How a technoindustrial
society had developed. The rampant pollution which had altered the planetary ecology for the worse, creating an era where
ships flew between the stars to found new colonies. How the Confederation now embraced hundreds of star systems, and traders
prospered among them. A colourful generalised summary, devoid of any real detail and timescale.

In return, the Mosdva told them of Mastrit-PJ’s long story; how neither they nor the Tyrathca were the original sentient species
on the one planet which supported biological life. The Ridbat were the first, with a society that had flourished over a million
years ago. Little was known of them now, Quantook-LOU said, other than whispers that trickled from generation to generation
becoming wilder with each telling. They were Mastrit-PJ’s true monsters, ravenous beasts with evil minds. Wars had been constant
while they were alive, two of which escalated into the exchange of nuclear weapons on the planetary surface. Their civilization
was knocked back from an advanced technological culture to primitive barbarian on at least three separate occasions. It wasn’t
known if they ever had spaceflight; there was no evidence of off-planet activity. The fourth and last Ridbat industrial era
was brought to an end by thermonuclear conflict, concurrent with the release of biological weapons which wiped them out along
with seventy per cent of the planet’s animal life.