Алан Дин Фостер - Relic

The Myssari were silent, waiting. It was left to the gathering Vrizan to murmur and mutter among themselves. Only those who were members of the scientific community, led by Abinahhs, understood what was at stake. Having waited through an increasingly tense silence on the part of the human specimen, the Vrizan researcher was visibly relieved when Ruslan’s eyes finally turned back to him.

“You know,” Ruslan said calmly, “if you had never brought up the subject of learning the secrets of the Aura Malignance, I might seriously have considered accepting your offer.” He shook his head. “In contrast, no request of the sort was ever broached to me by the Myssari, not ever. It makes my choice easy.” So saying, he turned away and started across the open plaza that haloed the wonderful fountain. No Vrizan moved to stop him. Any one of them could have raised a weapon and easily brought him down, he knew. Shot or paralyzed him right in the back. He knew nothing of the sort would happen. However covetous of another species’ property, one did not risk damage to it if it happened to be an irreplaceable scientific specimen.

Pulling away from Cor’rin and separating herself from the band of armed Myssari, Cherpa slammed into him so hard and wrapped her arms around him so tightly that he nearly lost his footing.

“Bogo! I told Cor’rin you wouldn’t stay with the Vrizan. I told her!”

She was right, he knew, but perhaps not for the reasons she thought.

“So, I’m back.” Turning, he gently freed himself from her embrace. “Abinahhs! I want you and your kind off my homeworld. I want you to know that I’ll be working toward that end.”

The Vrizan gestured complacently. “And what of the Myssari? Do you wish them to leave this world as well? Or are you—exhibiting what I believe from my studies of the ancient human language is called ‘hypocrisy’—content to have them swarm here in numbers you wish to deny us?”

“That’s a matter to decide in the future,” he shot back.

Abinahhs was disappointed but not defeated. “By not you, or me, or any of the stone-faced triploids who now surround you with a perceptible air of greedy possessiveness. Until that decision is made, we will remain and continue with our proposed expansion here.” His gaze switched to the carefully watching Jih’hune. “Meanwhile the sexless one and the rest of his kind can stay, so long as their distant outpost makes no attempt to interfere with our progress and confines itself to work of a scientific nature. Whenever you find it unutterably boring, Ruslan, you and the female are welcome to visit us. With assurances you will be returned.”

Unable to stay silent any longer, one of the armed Myssari started to speak. “The assurances of the Vrizan are not —” Set upon by those next to him, he was quickly silenced by wiser, more experienced comrades. Much as they might have shared his suppressed sentiments, they could not permit the speaker’s independent action. Scientists did not start wars with settlers.

While his invaluable human charges were once more at ease in each other’s company, Jih’hune did not allow himself to relax until the transport once again set down safely within the perimeter that had been established by the Myssari around their expanding outpost. Kel’les was the first to greet his old human friend. Though the recovery sortie had been completely successful, it was a somber group who reported to the head of the expeditionary team.

As a senior explorer who had commanded more than a dozen primary expeditions to other worlds, Sat’shan was in every sense of the term world-weary. Nothing in her long career had prepared her for the situation in which she now found herself. Seated at a recently activated command station within the second of the landing team’s completed buildings, she contemplated the mix of human and Myssari assembled before her. Her first question was not directed at the salvaged specimen, nor intended for his equally irreplaceable female companion, nor even the accompanying researchers who specialized in human studies.

“Do you think they will try to mount a full-scale assault?” she asked her second-in-command directly.

“They have weapons,” Jih’hune informed her, “but from what I observed they are modest and intended for defense against the indigenous dangerous lifeforms. I saw nothing of a military nature.”

“From what you observed.” Sat’shan’s mind was working furiously: deliberating possibilities, making plans, considering and discarding options. “What about what you could not see?”

“There is no reason for them to have a significant military presence here,” her adjutant insisted. “There is nothing to defend save vast expanses of empty land and numerous archeological sites. The latter are surely of interest, but hardly worth the outlay of a military commitment.”

Unless one of your aims is to discover the workings of the most devastating biological weapon ever utilized in this arm of the galaxy . For now Ruslan chose to keep that information to himself. He did not wish to spark undue panic among the Myssari, much less do anything that might ignite an actual conflict.

“You speak sense.” The outpost commander was in agreement. “If they wished to forcibly contest possession of the specimen Ruslan, they would have done so within the familiar confines of their settlement. Indeed, they likely would have tried to prevent your transport from landing. Your preliminary report describes their settlement as extensive.”

Three arms gestured as one. “Even cursory scans suggest it is intended to provide permanent support for colonists numbering in the thousands. It is likely there are similar projects under way elsewhere on the planetary surface.” The intermet indicated the silent male human. “Ruslan says that the Vrizan plan to lodge a formal claim to possession of the planet and to develop it as a full-fledged colony.”

“That is distressing. The Sectionary will be displeased.” Sharp yellow-orange eyes regarded both humans. “It would be natural for you to be distraught at this development. I can understand if not feel your pain. This is your ancestral homeworld.”

Ruslan stepped forward. “I know it doesn’t make sense, logically. Our connection”—he nodded toward Cherpa—“to this world is only through history and sentiment. We were both born on other worlds. But the connection, however tenuous, exists. It is there, in our minds and in our hearts. Is there anything short of war the Combine can do to stop the Vrizan from turning Earth into a colony of theirs?”

“Their claim can of course be contested. Jih’hune says that the Vrizan offered the pair of you an entire continent to develop as your own. Doubtless they feel by the time you could reproduce sufficiently to populate even a small community, they will have expanded across the rest of the planetary surface to a degree that would render any future claims by a resurgent humankind pointless. It is plain they do not know about the reproductive program for your kind that has begun on Myssar. Human reproduction by natural methods is slow, it is true. The Sectionary’s program will produce offspring far faster.”

She almost added, “than you two,” but caught herself. It was widely known that while they demonstrated varying degrees of affection toward one another, the two human specimens before her had declined to engage in actual reproductive activity. Myssari cultural sensitivity demanded that the subject be avoided unless mention of it otherwise proved necessary.

“The program, under your supervision, will grow the human population of Earth far faster than the Vrizan realize. Whether it will grow fast enough to deter them from their own plans only future developments can answer.”