The Shadow and Night (50 page)

Brenito extended a hand to Vero. “And you—young Verofaza—I suppose you will not be coming back unless there is something—or someone—to bring you back.”

Vero's face suddenly became void of emotion. “I have no idea, sir, what happens to me after the next few days. There are many issues for me to resolve. My father is not well. But I hope to be in contact with you at least fairly soon. I would like to return.”

“I understand. Do have a good trip. I will be praying for your deliberations.”

Vero turned toward the door and took a step forward. Then he turned back to face Brenito.

“Sir,” he said, his face turned to the ground, “I have a confession to make.”

Brenito looked surprised.

“You see, sir,” Vero continued hesitantly, and Merral glimpsed his fingers wrapping and unwrapping themselves, “I confess that I have entertained, well—doubts, about the worth of our calling. The thought had often come to me, until a few days ago, that what we sentinels were doing was a waste of time. That we were watching for something that would never happen.”

Then he looked up at the old man. “Suddenly, I find I have resolved my doubts. About what the sentinels do. We were right to watch. Moshe Adlen was right; those generations of sentinels—my ancestors, your ancestors—were right. Evil
was
lurking.”

Brenito stared at him and nodded almost imperceptibly. Then a wide smile split his face. “I am so glad to hear it, Verofaza. Your doubts were no secret. In fact, when I asked Earth for someone to be sent, I asked for the most skeptical person they could find.”

“You knew?” Vero looked startled. “But why?”

Brenito shrugged. “We didn't want someone imagining evil where there was none, did we? We couldn't afford that. Not again. You were sent here because of your vices, not because of your virtues. I hope that amuses you.” He stared at Vero and smiled broadly again. “Well done, anyway.”

A grin crossed Vero's face and he bowed his head. Then he turned and, followed by Merral, left the room.

They had driven barely a few meters from the house when Vero began to laugh aloud.

“He knew all along! Merral, he knew! I would say that that was the funniest thing I've heard for a week, but that would be faint praise. Oh dear. I was sent here because of my vices, not because of my virtues. . . .”

Then, with a great reluctance, he seemed to push his amusement away.

“But, Merral, my friend, do you think he's right? About the Rebellion?”

Merral stared at the poplars before answering. “Perhaps. Nothing else fits. Although I find it hard to come to grips with it. To believe that we got it all wrong? That—somehow—Jannafy's people escaped and have been hiding out somewhere for thousands of years?”

“I agree it's hard to take in. One of the things that I have taken for granted ever since I first heard the story of the Rebellion was that it was distant history. It was over. Every human being everywhere was part of the Assembly. But now?” Vero shook his head. “Now, I'm not sure I take anything for granted. Perhaps, I am not skeptical enough.” He looked at Merral with his brown eyes wide. “I think that's the lesson, isn't it? Remember that what you think can't happen, may happen. Assume nothing. Rule nothing out.”

Then Vero turned the vehicle out of the avenue of poplars onto the main road. “But, Merral, I rejoice that it is not my battle anymore. I will willingly hand it over to whatever council of wise men and women the Assembly comes up with. With very great gratitude. And I imagine you agree?”

“I do indeed, Vero. Let's hand this over to others as soon as we can.”

That night Vero and Merral arrived at the isolation room before either of the women. Vero had brought with him the travel case that held his possessions. After all, he said, there was no certainty that he would be returning to Farholme. Merral, in contrast, simply had a small holdall that contained little more than the spare clothes he had been issued.

Shortly afterward, Anya and Perena arrived bearing parcels. After greetings and inquiries about Merral's ankle, everyone sat down.

Vero gestured to Merral. “Take over. Now you know as much as I do.”

Merral glanced around. “Thanks. I think it's best we go round in turns. Who wants to start?”

Anya raised a hand, reached down to the floor by her, and put two identical packages on the table. With her face creasing into disgust she pushed the packages over to Merral. “Take them away, Tree Man and Earther. Duplicates. I don't want to see them again. Let someone else deal with them. They are horrid!”

Merral looked at her. “Samples of DNA and the datapaks?”

“And the Knella images.”

“What do you want to say about them? The samples?”

Anya leaned back in her chair, her sky blue eyes looking hard at Merral.

“I got three different types of DNA out of your dirty clothes. Of such things is science made. Only one is human.” She smiled. “Relax, Merral, you are one of us.” There was laughter, but Merral felt that it was forced and shallow.

Anya shook her head. “The other two, however, were not human. Now, I have only done a preliminary scan; after all, they will put a whole team on this on Ancient Earth.” She frowned and gestured with a finger at the packages. “There is no doubt that what you carry with you will cause an outrage. It confirms what I had first suggested. The ape-creature has three genetic components: gorilla, human, and what must be artificial code. The cockroach-beast parallels it; it has human and arthropod genes and, again, artificial code.”

“There's no doubt they are a creation? Not a mutation or, well, a natural hybrid?” Merral asked, knowing the answer even as he spoke the words.

“No. Simply, no. First, the human DNA is similar in both cases: as if it was taken from the same stock. In fact, the human component is odd. Natural human DNA is rather florid, baroque; it has lots of extra bits on it. This is lean and neat: a sort of optimized human genetic code. Very odd.”

Merral caught the imprint of distaste on Vero's face as Anya paused, looked around, and then continued. “Second, on the basis of your descriptions, I did a quick check for where the genes for reproductive organs would be in man and gorilla. They are absent. They cannot make themselves; they must be made.”

Vero stared at her. “Forgive me, my biology is basic. These are organisms?”

“In one sense, yes. Of course they are. But I think I see what you are getting at. Unless they clone themselves they are basically—I'm sorry, this is such a negative thought—little more than biological tools.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Merral saw Perena's face twist into an expression of disgust.

“And the cockroach-beast?” Merral asked.

“
That.
” Anya made a grimace. “Let me correct something here. I had thought that it was some sort of giant invertebrate with an exoskeleton. In fact, it seems, at first glance, rather similar to the ape-creature. I would guess that it has, basically, a human skeleton, but a thickened cuticle instead of skin as an outer covering, a sort of organic armor. Of course, then you have to make all sorts of changes to allow for movement and sweating, but I could see how it might be done. But . . .” She shrugged. “This is beyond me. Professionally, I would be interested to know what they come up with in a more detailed analysis, but personally I would be happy never to see or think of this again. I feel I need a shower.”

There was silence and Merral looked around the room.
Things now are very different from last night; then we were reeling with shock and frightened; now we are more in control and our fear has turned to revulsion and anger.

Merral looked at Vero. “Do you want to say what we learned today?”

“No,” he said. “Not yet. I want to hear what Perena has to say.”

Merral looked at Perena. “Captain Lewitz, anything to report?”

Perena gestured to two oblong packages that she had leaned against the wall. “Your tile samples. Hand carry them, please; there are addresses on them. I checked for radiation and there is none.” She gave a shrug of her slight shoulders. “We need to know what did it. Urgently. And what is the range of such weapons? Can I suggest that once you have gone through the Gate, I get a ruling issued giving a minimum altitude for flights over the Carson's Sill and Lannar Crater area? Perhaps three thousand meters?”

Merral looked at Vero, who nodded agreement. “Good idea. Anything on the imagery?”

Perena put her diary on the table and tapped the screen. “Here. I haven't had a chance to look at it in detail.”

A landscape appeared on the wallscreen.
Thermal imagery,
Merral decided, as he looked at the browns and yellows of land cut by the cold dark blue of the lakes, ponds, and rivers. Any large creatures or a ship should show up. Used to interpreting such maps for forestry purposes, Merral saw the anomaly quickly.

“There!” he snapped, pointing a finger at a cluster of small red dots and an orange oval outline to the north of the lake.

“Well spotted,” Perena said with a nod. “Four kilometers from where I picked you up. I got an enhanced blowup.”

A second image, but with a more grainy texture, filled the screen. There was a large, clearly marked orange oblong with four bright yellow points at the rounded corners. To the left of the oblong were five dull red dots, two of which were smaller than the others.

“The intruder ship?” Vero said, excitement in his voice.

“
An
intruder ship,” Perena said. “It is only thirty meters long. A bit shorter than my
Nesta Lamaine.
”

“Too small, right?” interjected Merral. “There were at least twenty creatures.”

“Exactly,” Perena said, in her quiet, unruffled way. “It's far too small to be an in-system machine, let alone one capable of inter-system travel. To me, this looks to be much more like the size of an Assembly ferry craft. That would be my guess. Carried inside a ship and used for local flights within the atmosphere.”

Merral scrutinized the image carefully and caught Perena's eye. “Can you make anything of it technically?”

“A bit. It needs enhancement and an assessment by an aerospace engineering team. One other bit of data is on another image taken ten hours later. The ship has gone, but there are four scorch marks at the corner of the outline. But if I use imagination and assume that it uses a similar technology to what we have, I think here it's just landed.” She nodded at the image. “Let me tell you why: The hot spots suggest four engines at the corners that are still warm. Confirmed by the corner scorch marks seen on later images. They suggest a vertical capability, probably with chemical engines. There is no hint of gravity-modification technology or anything even more exotic. There is little aerodynamic shaping; the front is only just slightly more pointed than the rear. So I read that as a low-speed craft, say Mach 2 or 3 maximum. I also find it interesting that there is no evidence of heating on what we presume are the front edges of the machine. So, no evidence of atmospheric entry. My guess is something small, subspace, and subsonic.”

“And that it hasn't traveled far?”

Perena gave a pained smile, “Vero, you are asking me to pile supposition on guesswork. But normally a ferry craft wouldn't be used for a journey of more than about fifteen hundred kilometers.”

Vero, leaning back in his chair, gestured at the image. “Perena, you make it sound just like one of our ferry craft.”

Perena gestured at the packages by the wall. “I could be wrong. I have put copies of these for you to take; I want a team of engineers to look at them. But I
was
surprised at how familiar it seemed. It does not seem alien—whatever an alien ship would look like. But remember, it almost certainly cannot be the parent ship. You can see that by the comparison with the figures.”

“I was going to ask about those,” Merral said. “Are they human-sized? Bigger, smaller?”