Charles Gannon - Raising Caine

Yiithrii’ah’aash’s neck waggled slightly; his limbs drooped somewhat. Was it the onset of melancholy? “So here is the problem you foresaw in our paradise. In essence, the indagatorae had done their job too well. All Slaasriithi now dwelt in biospheres which held no threats, in which there were no undiscovered countries, and in which the only crises were natural disasters for which we had developed excellent contingency plans. The indagatorae’s innovation and boldness was no longer needful or pertinent, except in rare rescue operations.”

Riordan nodded. “But you still had a taxon with an acute self-preservation instinct and whose focus was as much, or more, upon the individual as upon the community.”

“Perceiving this problem, and what it portends, is why we hope you shall consent to be our liaison. As you no doubt conjecture, we reduced the indagatorae over time. It was not difficult. The demographic balance of our breeding is driven by chemistries more than cognitive determination, and the almost vanished need for the abilities of this taxon had already made it the smallest of our taxae. And, having had no contact with any other intelligent races for many millennia, we believed that the past wars had very possibly wiped out all the others. Meanwhile, the indagatorae were constantly disrupting our polytaxic harmonies, always pushing for faster solutions, deviations from protocols and norms, seeking challenges where the community sought tranquility.”

“And so they dwindled and were gone.”

“Just so. But recent events have swelled the number of voices which, as a few always had, caution that no species should willingly divest itself of any skills, that no state of existence is so permanent that once-useful traits may be said to have outlived their usefulness.”

“A point that no doubt became more pertinent at the last Convocation.”

Yiithrii’ah’aash emitted a weary hum. “We had noted the increasing Ktor aggressiveness for some time, but the events of the past two years exceeded our worst projections. Now, the wisdom of the most senior ratiocinatorae is that although the indagator did become a disruptive element of our polytaxon, it still had a purpose. And this purpose did not reside solely, or even primarily, in the utilitarian skills it possessed. Rather, the nature of the indagator itself was a reminder of what we are in toto: a harmony among all things, because all things do have their place. In the case of the indagatorae, the variables they introduced into our existence were, ultimately, more beneficial to the long-term health of our polytaxon than they were disruptive to its smaller, short-lived particularities. The indagatorae may problematize the overarching strategies whereby we hope to achieve a universal synergy among all biota, but they are also a reminder that surprise, serendipity, and chance are powers that ineluctably shape us — and require special management — over time.”

Riordan nodded. “So you are going to reintroduce the indagatorae.”

“That is our intent. But we need you in order to do it.”

Caine leaned back. “I don’t understand.”

“It has been at least ten millennia since the indagatorae walked amongst us. The genome for that taxae has been heavily compromised. It was repressed whenever it attempted to naturally reexpress in our communities. What is left of its coding is inconsistent, incomplete: insufficient.”

“So you can’t reintroduce the indagator?”

“Not by ourselves, no.”

Caine shook his head. “I don’t understand. How can I help? What do you need?”

Yiithrii’ah’aash spoke slowly, carefully. “We must have access to the original genome, to a genecode which was not altered by our repeated and forceful suppression of the indagator.”

Caine frowned — and then understood. “The beings I met on Delta Pavonis Three, the devolved versions of your species: although they are regressed, they still carry that genome.”

“Precisely. Indeed, I suspect that their population is heavily shaped by the genecodes particular to the indagator taxon. It is unlikely any other taxon could survive in isolation for so long.”

Caine nodded. “And you need me to get permission to acquire a sample and—”

Yiithrii’ah’aash was buzzing softly but steadily. When Caine grew silent, Yiithrii’ah’aash said, “No. That would not be sufficient. We cannot know if every cell, or any cell, in one Pavonian’s body or blood would carry the entirety of the code we require. It may only reside in what you would call stem cells, or in the nuclei of other specialized cell types. And only our experts will be able to make that determination.”

Finally Caine understood what Yiithrii’ah’aash was asking of him. “You need me to take you to Delta Pavonis Three to meet, and abscond with, one or more Pavonians.”

“Not abscond,” Yiithrii’ah’aash insisted. “We would not compel compliance. But we will not need to. The mark they placed upon you tells me that. They will still recognize rapport spores; they will understand.”

“Okay,” Caine allowed, “but what if they don’t understand? As you said, Ambassador, the Pavonians may be ‘of’ you, but they are not Slaasriithi anymore. So the way I look at it, that makes them free agents. Even if it’s best that they cooperate with you, they’re under no obligation to do so. And I won’t support any attempts to coerce or compel their compliance.”

“And I will never ask you to, Caine Riordan, because we are in absolute accord on this point: the Pavonians must be free to choose their own path. However, the mark on you tells me that they will hear our call and will come with us.”

“All of them?”

“Only if they so wish. But eventually, I believe they all shall. However, I suspect that we will not be able to tarry to determine this during our first visit.”

Caine mentally checked how this scenario would impact the clockwork gears of humanity’s own political machinery. Yiithrii’ah’aash was right about not tarrying: Earth needed Slaasriithi technical assistance as quickly and as profoundly as the Slaasriithi needed the return of their indagatorae. But doing so promptly was going to involve a territorial violation, no way around it.

Trying to process a formal request for access was a nonstarter. It would take months, maybe years, to be cleared by the fledgling Terran Republic’s inchoate and still-decentralized bureaucratic and diplomatic services. The upside of the violation was that, once the deed was done, the resulting agreement might provide an easy way to send most or all of the Pavonians to a good home, leaving DeePeeThree wide open for unrestricted human settlement. That would make everyone happy — eventually. But in the meantime…

“Yiithrii’ah’aash, you are aware that if we do this, it will be without any official permission or knowledge. In short, I will be violating the laws of my own government.”

Yiithrii’ah’aash bobbed slowly. “I have examined the ramifications of what I ask. That is why I only ask it now, after you have seen us in our worlds: peaceful, productive, and woefully incapable of protecting ourselves. Or of being truly useful allies to you. To change that, we must reintroduce the indagator. And to accomplish that, we must act in stealth and in violation of your laws.” He rose slowly, stiffly; was it a formal gesture of some sort, perhaps a supplication? “I would not ask this of you if there was any other way for our need to be met, or if the consequences were not so great. For both our peoples. And so I ask: would you do us the honor of consenting to be our Liaison with humanity?”

Caine stared at the tubes running into his arms, many without the benefit of needles or other mechanical interfaces. What had made this mission — a deep contact — different from a first contact was that the strangest and most unexpected challenges were those that percolated within oneself, not in exchanges with the exosapients. In this case, the questions and consequences spawned by Yiithrii’ah’aash’s request were so immense, and so intertwined with humanity’s uncertain and rapidly unfolding future, that it was impossible to separate and dissect them all discretely. At some point, the person on the spot just had to go with their gut feelings and choose a path.