Vale of Stars (55 page)

“I’m sorry, Vogel,” were her last words to the brave, visionary vix who would never understand what he had done to deserve such pain.

Sirra shot upward towards the lab, only barely managing to get word to Fozzoli of her predicament before she blacked out.

“You’ll be getting my bill later,” Fozzoli’s disembodied voice said to her. “I’ve picked you up twice now, and that kind of roadside assistance doesn’t come cheap, you know.”

Sirra managed to smile and opened her eyes. She was in the lab’s infirmary. She tasted plastic and raised an unsteady hand to her mouth. She was wearing an oxygen mask. Her eyes focused enough to reveal Fozzoli and Khadre standing over her.

“I think you’ll make it. Mild anoxia. Gonna take more than that to kill a tough old bird like you,” Fozzoli said.

Khadre leaned in closer and said quietly, “I’m not an expert, but I don’t think you were suffocating long enough to give you permanent brain damage. We’ve called in a team from the mainland,” Khadre patted her shoulder, forestalling Sirra’s objection, “and they’ll be here in a few hours to transport you back.”

“We had to, Sirra,” Fozzoli said. “We didn’t know how bad you were.” He sobered and added, “We know it means they’ll shut us down, and we’ll be censured and all that, but….”

Sirra started to speak, but her throat burned and she coughed. She regained her composure enough to croak through the mask, “We won’t. I know about the ruins.”

Fozzoli’s eyes widened. “You spoke to Vogel?”

“He spoke to me. I understand it all. Don’t worry,” she added, and closed her eyes again. The simple act of speaking had drained her. She drifted back into sleep.

The next time she woke up, she was looking into the eyes of a familiar male. His skin was unusually baggy, especially under the eyes, which gave him a somewhat hang-dog appearance. He flashed a penlight at her with clinical precision, and Sirra blinked back water.

“She’s awake,” the man said, continuing his check of Sirra’s pupils.

“Yes, she is, and would you mind not shining that domed light at me?”

The man’s lip twitched, and Sirra recognized him. He was Doctor Franshen Gernallas, one of the people on the physicians’ board who certified researchers as fit (or unfit) for field work. He had done Sirra’s physical half a year before.

Gernallas moved aside and withdrew the penlight to reveal Coordinator Kiv standing some distance away, in the corridor outside the infirmary, talking with Khadre and Fozzoli. “Mr. Coordinator? She’s awake,” Gernallas said again. Kiv, Fozzoli, and Khadre all tried to enter the room simultaneously. Sirra tried not to smile at the situation—then the memory of what she had done to Vogel sobered her instantly.

Fozzoli muscled ahead of Kiv and Khadre and approached Sirra’s bedside. “How are you feeling, Sirra?”

“Much better.”

“The doc’s confirmed what we told you—no permanent damage.”

“But there just as well could have been,” Gernallas’ voice sounded over Fozzoli’s shoulder. Fozzoli mouthed the word “asshole” (Gernallas could not see that from behind Fozzoli) and continued. “Kiv’s here, and he wants to talk to you.”

“I see. We’ll talk later, Foz. Thank you for saving me. Again.”

Fozzoli grinned. “It’s becoming my life’s work.” He squeezed her hand affectionately, then stepped aside.

Kiv approached her, his expression cool. “I am pleased you are recovering,” he said evenly.

Sirra nodded. She felt no obligation to make the interrogation easier on him.

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“I broke the rules. Again.”

Kiv’s lips tightened slightly. “Yes, you did. A direct edict from my office. I don’t issue them often, nor do I do so lightly. You may have brought the entire vix population down upon us. I have had to recall our entire mercantile and industrial fleet—”

“Oh, stop it, Kiv,” Sirra said, tiring quickly of his rhetoric. She heard Gernallas gasp quietly at her disrespect. “If you think that, you haven’t read one page of any scientific report on the vix. You know very well that the various vix communities are isolated from one another. Even if the settlement under us is going to wage some kind of holy war against humanity, there is no way the other settlements could even know about it, much less coordinate any attack.”

“I have read your reports, the ones you publish,” Kiv said. Sirra knew that he had grouped all scientists together with the generic ‘you.’ “But it seems you know quite a bit more than you bother to tell the public, or your government.”

“That’s enough, Kiv,” Khadre said, pushing past Fozzoli to come up next to the Coordinator. “You can reprimand us for what we’ve done, but don’t start on some vendetta against all science because of your relationship with me.”

“Khadre, do I have to remove you?” Kiv said over his shoulder. Sirra’s eyes widened slightly at the tone in his voice: he hated his mother.

Khadre started to speak, but Sirra cut her off hastily. “Look, Coordinator, you want me to reveal what I know about the vix? I’m ready to do so. Foz!”

“Yeah?”

“Can you project the data in here when I ask for it?”

Fozzoli sighed his well-practiced expression of exasperation. “Well, I’ll have to move the portable holothrower into here, and then set up a link to the main computer and get the stuff you want when you want it….”

“All right, then. Go ahead.” Sirra said, then sank back into her pillows. Fozzoli left, grumbling, and Sirra started relating the data of the ruins based on Iede’s interview with the gods.

“You mean she has been up to the remains of the ship?” Kiv asked a few minutes later when Sirra had finished telling him the story.

“I said so.”

Kiv did not answer, but stared at the floor for a moment.

“That’s not really the important point here, Coordinator. The point is—”

Kiv’s head snapped up. “I am afraid none of you know yet about what has happened. A few hours ago, before I arrived here but after Doctor Fozzoli placed his emergency call to the mainland, Milante Observatory detected what we thought was a meteor shower. Closer examination revealed that it was Ship, or what was left of it, breaking up and entering our atmosphere. The debris fell into the Wide Sea at what our maps show as the deepest point, near a trench called…,” he paused, and Khadre said, “the Sisyphus Trench?”

“That’s the one.”

There was stunned silence. Then Fozzoli, who had returned with the equipment while Sirra had briefed the Coordinator, said, “So Ship is…gone?”

“Yes. We think most of it has either burned up or fallen into the trench.”

Sirra turned her head to look at Khadre and Fozzoli. It was Khadre who finally spoke. “She told us…she knew this would happen.”

“Who?” Kiv asked, finally turning to look at his mother.

“Iede. She said, in the airfoil, that the gods would be giving her one last sign if all went well with the survey.”

Fozzoli cut in. “This is a sign?”

“What else could it be?” Sirra said. “You don’t think their orbit decayed suddenly, without any warning, and just happened to send Ship into the deepest trench we’ve yet found, do you?”

“Maybe they knew their orbit was decaying and that’s why they brought Iede up to them,” Fozzoli said.

Sirra shook her head. “I can’t believe that any group that could keep Ship running all this time would not be able to keep a simple orbit stable.”

“Pardon me,” Kiv said, “but are you telling me you knew this was going to happen?”

Khadre swatted away the question impatiently and said to Sirra, “But the sign was supposed to be if all went well with the survey. How does Ship know that it did?”

“They must’ve been watching us,” Sirra said.

“Even so,” Khadre continued, “they can’t read our minds, can they?” A brief, terrifying silence filled the room before Khadre said, in a shakier voice, “No. Not possible. So how did they know the survey was a success?”

“Wait a moment. Coordinator, sir, when did you say Ship started to fall?”

“We received notice from the Observatory about an hour and a half after your distress call came in. But to return to the point—”

“Could they have been monitoring my transmission?” Fozzoli said.

“You mean they killed themselves when you called for a doctor for me?” Sirra frowned. This didn’t make any sense. “What exactly did you say?”

“Uh….” Fozzoli’s eyes looked ceilingward. “Oh, well, here. I’ll play it back.” He used the holothrower to call up the outgoing messages database and selected the appropriate one. Fozzoli’s voice filled the air.

“This is Research Station Bitter One calling EMS. This is Research Station Bitter—”

Fozzoli’s voice was interrupted by the EMS respondent. “EMS here. Go ahead, Bitter One.”

“I’ve got a diver down with anoxia and possible pressure damage. We’ve placed her on oxygen, but we don’t have a doctor at the station at this time. We need an emergency team here immediately.”

“Hold it,” the EMS operator’s voice lost much of its formality and sounded skeptical. “You’re Research Station Bitter One, and you say you’ve had a diving accident? But there’s no doctor there?”

“Yes, we broke the law, all right? Send some cops, too, if you like, but send a team. Doctor Sirra went down to talk to the vix. She must have removed her glove to talk to them better, or something—” Fozzoli looked at Sirra with a strange mixture of admiration and disapproval as his voice continued, “—and her suit must have started to depressurize—”

“All right,” the EMS respondent said, sounding more frustrated than concerned. “I’ll scramble a team and get them out there. But I’ll also have to notify the Coordinator’s office about this.”

“Tell any domed one you want,” Fozzoli’s voice had reached a crescendo of anger, “Get the domed Coordinator himself out here, if you can get his head out of his—’ Fozzoli switched off the playback. “Uh, that’s all that is relevant.”

“What’s the rest?” Sirra asked as innocently as she could.

“The rest is not germane to the question at hand,” Kiv said calmly, looking pointedly at Fozzoli, who had the grace to blush. “I have heard the transmission once before.”

“But what’s in there that might tell Ship that the survey went well?”

“Vogel. It has to be,” Sirra said. “Somehow, Ship knows that the ruins are tied up with the vix.”

“Are they?” Kiv asked.

“Yes. And I know how.” She took a deep breath. “My official report will be far more scientific, but here’s what I’ve patched together from my sources.”

“One moment. Before you begin, what are your sources?” 

The question gave Sirra a slight, grudging admiration for Kiv. He was just as interested in the discovery as anyone else was, but he held his enthusiasm in check pending her credentials, as it were. “You would have made a good scientist, Coordinator.”

“My interests were elsewhere. Now, your sources, if you please.”

“Well, the ruins were one. Nothing in particular, just their existence. But mostly, I base my hypothesis on the thirty or so years of experience I have had with the vix—studying them, learning their ways and their language. Although Doctor Fozzoli is far more expert than I at linguistics.”

Fozzoli, surprised at being thus complemented, stammered, “Thanks, Sirra.”

“That’s all?” Kiv said. Sirra knew he suspected her talent. She had long since been rumored to have some magic power of perception that would have, in an earlier age, have branded her a witch but that now merely meant she was the winner in some genetic intuition sweepstakes.

“No. I also feel that the answer is the right one. I can’t explain it much better, Coordinator. You’re just going to have to trust me on this, to be later confirmed by independent analysis, of course. Now, may I begin?”

“Please,” Kiv said, leaning forward. Khadre and Fozzoli followed suit. Only Dr. Gernallas appeared uninterested.

“The vix are the descendants of genetically-engineered surface dwellers who lived on this planet approximately eight thousand years ago.”

Khadre and Fozzoli did not react visibly. Their scientific minds were no doubt hard at work already, trying to find confirming and contradictory evidence. Kiv, however, reacted much more like a layperson.

“What?” he said, his voice neither incredulous nor awestruck. He spoke as if he had not heard Sirra properly.

“I don’t know if I can make it any more plain,” Sirra said.

“Try to,” Kiv said.

“The vix are not native to the seas. They were altered, bioengineered, to live there.” She turned to Khadre. “That’s why there are no vestigial organs.” She turned back to Kiv. “Originally, some eight thousand years ago, the land surface of this planet was home to an advanced race. This race bioengineered what we now know as the vix, and for some reason, the surface dwellers died out, leaving only ruins.”

“Why, Sirra?” Fozzoli asked.

She looked at him with exasperation. “I don’t know. Vogel knew only the history, not the motives. All of the vix know, in a way. The facts of their…experience gradually became legend, then myth, and finally religion. We will spend quite a while unraveling it, but now that we have a place to start—”

“I don’t understand,” Kiv said calmly. He did not seem amazed at the revelation. “If the vix are animals who have been bred or engineered for intelligence then why—”

“No, Coordinator. The vix aren’t sea creatures who were tinkered with by the land-dwelling natives—these
are
those natives.”

“But…why?” Khadre said. Her voice was so searching that Sirra imagined Khadre was trying to reach back into the past to demand an answer form the long-dead air-breathers. “Why would they do this?”

Sirra shook her head. “I don’t know.” She looked up and found Fozzoli staring at her curiously.

“Sirra,” he said, in a tone that made her dread what was coming next, “do you know all of this just from deduction? How could you possibly piece this all together from Iede’s vision, the ruins, and Vogel’s mind? You said yourself that the data has become a mystical religion to the vix, so how could Vogel possibly have known this?”

Sirra started at him, at once cursing him for reading her so well and forcing the issue on her, now, when the Coordinator could hear—and blessing him for his insight. Fozzoli was a smart man, and he knew her very well. All right, she thought, maybe this is for the best.