Jack McDevitt - POLARIS

The real question was whether they were scattered so far in time and space that we would never encounter another in the lifetime of the species.”

There were lights moving at sea.

“An intersection seemed so unlikely that we never seriously considered it. I mean, we had a policy in place, guidelines on what to do if anyone actually saw another ship out there. But we never believed it would happen. And we certainly assumed that if it did, the aliens would not be hostile. Cautious, perhaps, but not hostile.”

“Why not? The Mutes are hostile.”

“They’re hostile because there was a series of incidents at the beginning, when we first discovered each other, that created conflict. It was mishandled on our end, and to a degree, on theirs. I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t anybody’s fault. People were surprised by an unprecedented situation and they reacted badly. Some of it’s in the genes. We can’t stand to be near them. Have you ever been close enough to a Mute to feel the effect?”

He wasn’t simply talking about their mind-reading abilities, but the fact that they touched something revolting deep in the bone. It was hard to say why; they were humanoid. But people reacted to them the way they did to large spiders, or snakes.

Add to that the knowledge that, in their presence, your brain lay open to the sunlight.

That you had to struggle not to think of anything that would embarrass you. That the creature knew more about you than you did because all the walls were down, all the rationalizations and pretensions set aside. They knew, for example, precisely how we reacted to them. It made diplomacy difficult.

“No, I’ve never seen one.” There weren’t many of them running around inside the Confederacy. They didn’t like us very much either. “Are you sure they weren’t involved?” I asked.

“We looked into it. You know, of course, they’d have to come through the Confederacy to get to Delta Karpis. Or go exceedingly far out of their way.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Not at all. Things had been quiet between them and us for a long time when the Polaris happened.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the moon. It wasn’t Rimway’s moon. Too big, and hazy with atmosphere. In fact, it had oceans.

“We couldn’t see any motive they’d have to kidnap the people on the Polaris. Certainly none worth risking war over. We talked to some of them. I personally talked with a representative.” He made a face at the memory and tried to shake it off. “He said they had nothing to do with it. I believed him. And I’ve seen no reason to change my mind.”

“Why would you take his word? There don’t seem to be any other likely suspects.”

“Because whatever else you want to say about them, Chase, they are notoriously poor liars.”

“Okay.”

“Furthermore, I couldn’t see how they could have accomplished it. They couldn’t have approached the Polaris without being seen. Had that happened, Maddy would surely have sounded the alarm. We’d have known.”

“Afterward,” I said, “you mobilized everything you had to look for them.”

“Yes. In fact, a sizable portion of the Confederate navy went out and conducted the search. And, although we didn’t encourage anybody, at least not officially, a lot of corporate and even some private vessels helped. The hunt went on for more than a year.”

“I assumed there’d been a campaign to get everyone involved.”

“We didn’t need a campaign. You don’t know what it was like at the time.

People were scared. We thought something new had shown up. Something with hostile intentions and advanced technology. Something completely different. It was almost as if we’d discovered a supernatural entity. It was so bad there was even talk of an alliance with the Mutes. So a lot of corporate types sent their ships out. Became part of the effort.” He moved some sand around with his feet. He was wearing sandals. “It generated good publicity for them. For the corporations.”

“And never a sign of anything at all out of the ordinary?”

“That’s correct. We never found anything.”

One of the vents came on and delivered cool air into the room. We sat quietly, listening to it. It was reassuring, evidence that basic physical law still ruled. “Dr.

Taliaferro,” I said, “do you have a theory? What do you think happened to them?”

He considered it. “I think they were taken,” he said finally. “By whom, or for what purpose, I don’t know.”

His bench was placed just beyond the reach of the incoming tide. We watched a wave play out and sink into the sand. “Why was there an empty compartment on the Polaris? ”

“You mean, why were there only six passengers instead of seven?”

“That’s the same question. But, yes.”

“That’s easy to explain. The eighth compartment was reserved for me. I’d intended to go.”

“For you?” He nodded.”

“You were fortunate. Why did you change your mind?”

“Something happened at the office. I just don’t know what it was. I was never informed. I, the avatar. Whatever it was, it was serious enough that I felt constrained to cancel out of the flight.”

“It was at the last minute.”

“Yes. We were literally boarding the Polaris. ”

I pressed for an explanation, but he insisted he had none. Whatever it had been, Taliaferro had kept it to himself. And I recalled seeing the director leaving early at the Skydeck launch. “Dr. Taliaferro, how about your disappearance? Why would you have walked off the way you did?” I should mention that it was a rhetorical question.

No answer would be forthcoming. This Taliaferro was a construct of what was known of the man. It was, in effect, only his public persona. I wasn’t disappointed.

“It is strange, isn’t it?”

“Yes. What do you think?” Might as well push the point. I’d heard the question asked at the convention, and he’d offered no explanation. But the atmosphere was better on that beach, alone and in casual surroundings as opposed to the clamor in the meeting room.

“I have to think I met with foul play. There were people who would have liked to see me dead.”

“For example?”

“Barcroft. Tulami. Yin-Kao. Charlie Middleton, for God’s sake. They’re too numerous to name, Chase. But it’s all in the record. Easy enough for you to find, if you’re really interested. I stepped on a lot of toes in my time.”

“Any who might have been willing to take your life?”

He thought about it. “No,” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought so. But it appears someone did me in.”

“When you were at the convention, you mentioned that you’d cleared off your desk that last day. You said that was uncharacteristic.”

“Did I say that?”

“Yes, you did.”

“I may have exaggerated. For effect. I mean, you appear at a convention, there’s always a little show business involved, right?”

“And you removed everything that was in your accounts.”

“Yes. Well, that does sound as if I was thinking about leaving.”

“Any chance you might have committed suicide?”

“I had everything to live for. A good career. I was still relatively young. Only in my sixties. In good health. I was in a position to help a number of causes that needed assistance.”

“Which causes?”

“At the time, I was active in efforts to improve public education. And I was helping the Kern Group raise money.” The Kern Group was a nonprofit organization that sent volunteers and supplies to places like Talios, where famine was common. (Talios, of course, was not on Rimway. Not many people ever miss a meal on Rimway.) “And I’d recently met a woman.”

Ivy Cumming. After Taliaferro’s disappearance Ivy waited a few years before giving up and marrying an academic. She eventually gave birth to two children, and was herself still alive.