Алан Дин Фостер: Relic

Ruslan nodded somberly. “I didn’t say it was going to be easy. According to the legends on Seraboth, all records as to its spatial location were obliterated or maladjusted or spasmed more than ten thousand years ago.”

Cor’rin’s mouth was too small to gape, but she came close. “Why would that be done? Why would any species deliberately eliminate all traces of its homeworld’s galactic coordinates?”

“I said according to legends . There are many. Some say people were angry that the center of civilization didn’t or couldn’t do anything to stop the Aura Malignance. Some insist that the plague originated on Earth itself and was spread from there. As a mid-level administrator, I had access to a lot of records. Other stories insist that the Malignance did not originate on Earth and that its inhabitants themselves destroyed all references to its location in an attempt to preserve at least the homeworld from the devastation that was afflicting all the others.”

“Ah.” Bac’cul felt he understood. “Erasing their steps backward. If this Earth could not be found, then it could not be infected.” He waved a hand to indicate his excitement as he regarded his colleagues. “Consider what such a scenario might mean. If we can find Ruslan’s homeworld, it might be intact and healthy! Not only would our xenologists then have access to all of human culture and civilization, Earth’s people could help us to interpret and catalog and classify all the knowledge that we have acquired from studying their colonized worlds.”

“Be reasonable.” All three of Cor’rin’s hands were in motion. “If his homeworld escaped the cataclysm wrought by the Aura Malignance, would its people not, when it was subsequently determined to be safe to visit other worlds again, long since have done so?”

Bac’cul was taken aback by her observation. Not so Yah’thom. With his every response, Ruslan’s respect for the elder rose another notch. As he spoke, the senior scientist was gazing at the gleaming, curving ceiling. Or perhaps beyond it.

“Possibly there does still exist a surviving human civilization on Ruslan’s Earth, but one that has not yet determined it is safe to visit other worlds. They may be restraining their explorations out of caution, or uncertainty. Or fear. I should imagine that racial suicide of the kind induced by this species-specific contagion would be enough to keep every means of transport on any unaffected world severely, if not permanently, locked down.”

“Then it is up to us,” Cor’rin declared, “to locate this place and, if such is the case, free them from their concerns.”

I’d just like to see the place before I die, Ruslan thought. As Yah’thom declared, enough generalized information about humankind’s homeworld existed in the records on Seraboth to pique his curiosity, if not reveal its location. Everyone (before they died) knew of and was taught about Earth. It was just that for a very long time no one knew any longer where it was.

Bac’cul was speaking again. “I would think that if anyone on Seraboth had access to your homeworld’s coordinates, it would be an administrator such as yourself.”

“Not necessarily,” Ruslan countered. “I didn’t rise into the higher echelons of my classification. I would think the global astronomy organizations of Seraboth would have had far more such knowledge.”

Yah’thom emitted a soft, sibilant Myssari sigh. “The records of your world’s astronomical societies were among the first to be accessed and translated when the Combine began studying Seraboth. Unfortunately, there was little to be learned from them about the immediate galactic neighborhood that we did not already know, and certainly nothing about a human homeworld that had been safeguarded through deliberate isolation. Our scientists were frankly surprised. One would think that, included among the description of your species’ homeworld, there would at least have been hints as to its location.”

“There was much that was forgotten.” Ruslan was instinctively defensive. The population of Seraboth had not been composed of the mentally deficient. It was just that knowledge had shrunk in proportion to the population. Now only he remained. Perhaps he was not the brightest or the most educated individual his world had ever produced, but he was no fool. Dying of old age he might be, but he would uphold the honor of Seraboth to the last.

As for upholding the honor of humankind, that did not concern him. As far as he was concerned, that was no longer an issue, the species having forfeited it with the development and dispersal of the Aura Malignance.

There was a long pause on the panel until Cor’rin said, “Then what are we to do? How can we proceed?”

Ruslan had no suggestions, but Yah’thom certainly did.

“If there are no clues as to the location of Earth on Seraboth, then we must look elsewhere. A request for such information will be distributed among the other civilized species: the Hahk’na, the Lelopran, the Kastorii, and any others who might have access to or an interest in such knowledge. Many times one seemingly unrelated fragment of information will lead to another, and another, until greatly to everyone’s surprise all the many broken pieces of knowledge combine to form a useful theorem or fact.”

Present as an escort and handler rather than a participant, Kel’les had kept silent. Now s’he spoke up. “Sending forth such an appeal is certainly a fine idea, but it will take time to be dispersed. The Hahk’na and the Lelopran will not devote to it the resources we would like. This is understandable. They have their own priorities.” S’he glanced sideways at the human. “I doubt that the prospect of fulfilling such a request, even if it is made at the bequest of the last surviving representative of a species, will bestir their researchers to much action.”

“True,” Yah’thom readily agreed. “While we have plenty of time, Ruslan does not.” It was a cold assessment of the situation, but not a brutal one. He turned his attention from handler to guest. “Are you familiar with a world settled by your people called Treth?”

Ruslan’s thick gray brows drew together. “I’ve heard of it. Can’t say I’m familiar with it.” Where he expressed doubt, Cor’rin and Bac’cul showed no such uncertainty.

“It is the world we encountered after finding Seraboth,” Cor’rin explained. “The most recently human-settled planet yet found.”

Yah’thom gestured affirmatively, then returned his attention to their guest. “Human civilization appears to have persisted on Treth longer than on Seraboth or on any of the other several dozen worlds settled by your kind that we have thus far found and explored. Therefore it is reasonable to assume that knowledge that has been lost elsewhere might still exist in the records of such a place.”

Within Ruslan’s mind the tiniest flicker of interest began to froth. “As an administrator, I have to agree with you. That doesn’t mean there’s anything more to be learned about Earth’s location in the planetary records of Treth than there was on Seraboth, or anywhere else your people have visited.”

“No,” admitted the elder scientist, “but it strikes me as a good first place to look. We will begin our search there.” He did not need to seek confirmation from his colleagues. The proposal was too rational to debate. “Do you wish to accompany the expedition?”

Ruslan was visibly startled. Coming to the meeting, he had not expected to be presented with a blank tender. Now that it had been made and accepted and a plan of action decided upon, he realized that for him to participate would mean giving up the bland but comfortable life that had been made for him on Myssar. Mightn’t it be, he considered, that he was too old to go exploring? It was not as if his presence on such an expedition would be necessary. If by some miracle the Myssari actually located Earth somewhere in the vast firmament, he could then accompany the initial expedition designated to explore the ancient homeworld. That was what he sought: the result, not the work.