Poul Anderson: The Day of Their Return

I can believe anyway some fraction of what he claimed. Artificial amplification and relayin’ of telepathy are beyond Terran science; but I’ve read of experiments with it, in past eras when Terran science was more progressive than now. Such technology is not too far beyond our present capabilities: almost matter of engineerin’ development rather than pure research.

Surely it’s negligible advance over what we know, compared to recordin’ of entire personality, and reimposition of pattern on member of utterly foreign species …

“Well,” Ivar said, “if you, usin’ artifact not really intended for your kind of organism, if you scan minds within radius of hundred meters or so—then naturally endowed bein’s ought to do better.”

“There are no nonhumans in Orcan territory,” Yakow said.

“Except Erannath,” Ivar retorted.

Did the white-bearded features stiffen? Did Jaan wince? “Ah, yes,” the Commander agreed. “A temporary exception. No xenosophonts are in Arena or town.”

“Could be human mutants, maybe genetic-tailored, who’ve infiltrated.” Ivar shrugged. “Or maybe no telepathy at all; maybe some gadget your detectors won’t register. I repeat, you probably don’t appreciate as well as I do what variety must exist on thousands of Imperial planets. Nobody can keep track. Imperium could well import surprise for us from far side of Empire.” He sighed. “Or, okay, call me paranoid. Call this trip unnecessary. You’re probably right. Fact is, however, I’ve got to decide what to do—question involvin’ not simply me, but my whole society—and I feel happier discussin’ it away from any imaginable surveillance.”

Such as may lair inside Mount Cronos.

If it does, I don’t think it’s happened to tap my thoughts these past several hours. Else my sudden suspicions that came from Tanya’s letter could’ve gotten me arrested.

Jaan inquired shrewdly, “Has the return of our Nova Roma mission triggered you?”

Ivar nodded with needless force.

“The message you received from your betrothed—”

“I destroyed it,” Ivar admitted, for the fact could not be evaded were he asked to show the contents. “Because of personal elements.” They weren’t startled; most nords would have done the same. “However, you can guess what’s true, that she discussed her connection with freedom movement. My letter to her and talks with your emissary had convinced her our interests and yours are identical in throwin’ off Imperial yoke.”

“And now you wish more details,” Yakow said.

Ivar nodded again. “Sir, wouldn’t you? Especially since it looks as if Commissioner Desai will go along with your plan. That’ll mean Terrans comin’ here, to discuss and implement economic growth of this region. What does that imply for our liberation?”

“I thought I had explained,” said Jaan patiently. “The plan is Caruith’s. Therefore it is long-range, as it must be; for what hope lies in mere weapons? Let us rise in force before the time is ready, and the Empire will crush us like a thumb crushing a sandmite.”

Caruith’s plan—The aircar had passed across the sea and the agricultural lands which fringed its southern shore, to go out over the true desert. This country made the Dreary of Ironland seem lush. Worn pinnacles lifted above ashen dunes; dust scudded and whirled; Ivar glimpsed fossil bones of an ocean monster, briefly exposed for wind to scour away, the single token of life. Low in the west, Virgil glowered through a haze that whistled.

“Idea seems … chancy, over-subtle … Can any nonhuman fathom our character that well?” he fretted.

“Remember, in me he is half human,” Jaan replied; “and he has a multimillion-year history to draw on. Men are no more unique than any other sophonts. Caruith espies likenesses among races to which we are blind.”

“I too grow impatient,” Yakow sighed. “I yearn to see us free, but can hardly live long enough. Yet Caruith is right. We must prepare all Aeneans, so when the day comes, all will rise together.”

“The trade expansion is a means to that end,” Jaan assured. “It should cause Orcans to travel across the planet, meeting each sort of other Aenean, leavening with faith and fire. Oh, our agents will not be told to preach; they will not know anything except that they have practical bargains to drive and arrangements to make. But they will inevitably fall into conversations, and this will arouse interest, and nords or Riverfolk or tinerans or whoever will invite friends to come hear what the outlander has to say.”

“I’ve heard that several times,” Ivar replied, “and I still have trouble understandin’. Look, sirs. You don’t expect mass conversion to Orcan beliefs, do you? I tell you, that’s impossible. Our different cultures are too strong in their particular reverences—traditional religions, paganism, Cosmenosis, ancestor service, whatever it may be.”

“Of course,” Jaan said softly. “But can you not appreciate, Firstling, their very conviction is what counts? Orcans will by precept and example make every Aenean redouble his special fervor. And nothing in my message contradicts any basic tenet of yonder faiths. Rather, the return of the Ancients fulfills all hopes, no matter what form they have taken.”

“I know, I know. Sorry, I keep on bein’ skeptical. But never mind. I don’t suppose it can do any harm; and as you say, it might well keep spirit of resistance alive. What about me, though? What am I supposed to be doin’ meanwhile?”

“At a time not far in the future,” Yakow said, “you will raise the banner of independence. We need to make preparations first; mustn’t risk you being seized at once by the enemy. Most likely, you’ll have to spend years offplanet, waging guerrilla warfare on Dido, for example, or visiting foreign courts to negotiate for their support.”

Ivar collected his nerve and interrupted: “Like Ythri?”

“Well … yes.” Yakow dismissed his own infinitesimal hesitation. “Yes, we might get help from the Domain, not while yours is a small group of outlaws, but later, when our cause comes to look more promising,” He leaned forward. “To begin with, frankly, your role will be a gadfly’s. You will distract the Empire from noticing too much the effects of Orcans traveling across Aeneas. You cannot hope to accomplish more, not for the first several years.”

“I don’t know,” Ivar said with what stubbornness he could rally. “We might get clandestine help from Ythri sooner, maybe quite soon. Some hints Erannath let drop—” He straightened in his seat. “Why not go talk to him right away?”

Jaan looked aside. Yakow said, “I fear that isn’t practical at the moment, Firstling.”

“How come? Where is he?”

Yakow clamped down sternness. “You yourself worry about what the enemy may eavesdrop on. What you don’t know, you cannot let slip. I must request your patience in this matter.”

It shuddered in Ivar as if the wind outside blew between his ribs. He wondered how well he faked surrender and relaxation. “Okay.”

“We had better start back,” Yakow said. “Night draws nigh.”

He turned himself around and then the aircraft. A dusk was already in the cabin, for the storm had thickened. Ivar welcomed the concealment of his face. And did outside noise drown the thud-thud-thud of his pulse? He said most slowly, “You know, Jaan, one thing I’ve never heard bespoken. What does Caruith’s race look like?”

“It doesn’t matter,” was the reply. “They are more mind than body. Indeed, their oneness includes numerous different species. Think of Dido. In the end, all races will belong.”

“Uh-huh. However, I can’t help bein’ curious. Let’s put it this way. What did the body look like that actually lay down under scanner?”