Charles Sheffield - Transcendence

He pulled a listing from his pocket and handed it to E.C. Tally, who said at once, “Not much correlation with the earlier tabulations. And scattered all over the spiral arm.”

“Sure. Given a ship, the Zardalu could have gone to a world a long way from the artifact where they first arrived.”

“Except that if they went through many Bose Transitions, they would have been observed.” Darya stood up, heard her voice rising, and knew she was doing what she insisted that a scientist should never do: allowing passion and the defense of personal theories to interfere with logical analysis. She sat down sharply. “Perhaps you’re right, Hans. But don’t you think they have to be within one or two transitions of where they first arrived in the spiral arm?”

“I’d like to think so. But I still favor our analysis over yours. What you said was reasonable, in a reasonable world, but violence plays a bigger part in the universe than reason — especially when it comes to the Zardalu.”

“And psychology and fixed behavior patterns play a larger part than either.” It was Julian Graves, who had so far remained a silent observer. “They are factors which have so far been omitted from consideration, but I am convinced they are central to the solution of our problem.”

“Psychology!” Nenda spat out the word like an oath. “Don’t gimme any of that stuff. If you’re gonna question our search logic, you better have something a lot better than psychology to support it.”

“Psychology and behavior patterns. What do you think it is that decides what you, or a Zardalu, or any other intelligent being, will do, if it is not psychology? J’merlia and I discussed this problem, after you and Captain Rebka left, and we were able to take our ideas quite a long way. On one point, we agree with you completely: the Zardalu would not be content to stay near an artifact, although they probably arrived there. They would leave quickly, if for no other reason than their own safety. There is too much activity around the artifacts. They would seek a planet, preferably a planet where they would be safe from discovery and able to hide away and breed freely. So where do you think that they would go?”

Nenda glowered. “Hell, don’t ask me. There could be a thousand places — a million.”

“If you ignore psychology, there could be. But put yourself in their position. The Zardalu will do just what you would do. If you wanted to hide away, where would you go?”

“Me? I’d go to Karelia, or someplace near it. But I’m damned sure the Zardalu wouldn’t go there.”

“Of course not. Because they are not Karelians . But the analogy still holds. The Zardalu will do just what you would do — they would try to go home . That means they would head for Genizee, the homeworld of the Zardalu clade.”

“But the location of Genizee has never been determined,” Darya protested. “It has been lost since the time of the Great Rising.”

“It has.” Graves sighed. “Lost to us . But assuredly not lost to the Zardalu. And although they do not know it, it is the safest of all possible places for them — a world that, in eleven thousand years of searching, none of the vengeful subject races enslaved by the Zardalu has ever succeeded in finding. The ultimate, perfect hiding place.”

“Perfect, except for one little detail,” Rebka said. “It’s ideal for them , but it’s sure as hell not perfect for us . We have to find them! I don’t agree with the approach that Darya Lang and Atvar H’sial and Kallik propose, but even if it’s wrong it at least tells us what places to look . So does the approach that Louis Nenda and I favor, and I’m convinced that it’s the right approach. But you and J’merlia are telling us to go look for a place that no one has ever found , in eleven millennia of trying. And you have no suggestions as to how we ought to start looking. Aren’t you just telling us that the job is hopeless ?”

“No.” Julian Graves was rubbing at his bulging skull in a perplexed fashion. “I am telling you something much worse than that. I am saying that although the task appears hopeless and the problem insoluble, we absolutely must solve it. Or the Zardalu will breed back to strength. And our failure will place in jeopardy the whole spiral arm.”

The tension in the great control chamber had been rising, minute by minute. Individuals were listening to the arguments presented by others, at the same time as they prepared to defend their own theories, regardless of merit.

Darya had seen it happen a hundred times in Institute faculty meetings, and much as she hated and despised the process, she was not immune to it. You proposed a theory. Even in your own mind, it began as no more than tentative. Then it was questioned, or criticized — and as soon as it was attacked, emotion took over. You prepared to defend it to the death.

It had needed those ominous words of Julian Graves, calmly delivered, to make her and the others forget their pet theories. The emotional heat in the chamber suddenly dropped fifty degrees.

This isn’t a stupid argument over tenure or publication precedence or budgets, thought Darya. This is important . What’s at stake here is the future , of every species in this region of the galaxy.

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the chamber, suggesting that others were sharing her revelation. It was broken at last by E.C. Tally. The embodied computer was still wearing the neural cable plugged into the base of his skull. Like a gigantic shiny pigtail, it ran twenty yards back to the information-center attachment.

“May I speak?”

For once in E.C. Tally’s life, no one objected as he went on: “We have heard three distinct theories regarding the present location of the Zardalu. At least one of those theories exists in three different variants. Might I, with all due respect, advance the notion that all the theories are wrong in part?”

“Wonderful.” Julian Graves stared gloomily at the embodied computer. “Is that your only message, that none of us knows what we’re talking about?”

“No. My message, if I had only one message, would be to suggest the power of synthesis, after many minds work separately on a problem. I could never have originated the thinking that you provided, but I can analyze what you jointly produce. I said you are all wrong in part, but more important, you are all correct in part. And your thoughts provide the prescription that points us to the location of the Zardalu.

“There are components on which you all agree: the Zardalu, no matter where they first arrived in the spiral arm, would seek to return to familiar territory. Councilor Graves and J’merlia take that a little further, by suggesting the most familiar territory of all — the Zardalu homeworld of Genizee, the origin of the Zardalu clade. Let us accept the plausibility of that added proposal.

“Now, Professor Lang, Atvar H’sial, and Kallik point out that each of us was returned from Serenity close to the place from which we started.”

There was a snort from Louis Nenda. “Don’t try that on At and me. We were dumped off in the middle of nowhere .”

“With respect: you are from the middle of nowhere. You speak with disdain of the planet Peppermill, where you and Atvar H’sial arrived after transit through the Builder transportation system. But the planet of Peppermill is, galactically speaking, no more than a stone’s throw from your own homeworld of Karelia.” E.C. Tally paused. “Karelia, which could certainly be said to be in the middle of nowhere — and to which, oddly enough, you did not seek to go although it was close-by.”