There had been a shift in the Pipe-Rilla’s posture, and its voice reflected the change. It was too gabbling and jerky to be understood without translation, and Dominus had cut in to provide computer support.
“Ambassador MacDougal has agreed,” went on the Pipe-Rilla. “B-beginning at once, there will be created a new group within the department of Human System Security. It will be of a form peculiar to human history … a military expedition …. what your species knows as” — there was an infinitesimal pause, while Dominus selected and offered for Pipe-Rilla approval a variety of words — “as an Anabasis.”
“As a what ?” The grunted question from Brachis to Mondrian was nothing like a whisper. “What’s she mean?”
“Anabasis,” said Mondrian softly. “We need to review our translation boxes. I don’t know what she means, but I’ll bet that’s not it — the original Anabasis was a military expedition, one that turned into defeat and retreat. Not a good omen.”
The Pipe-Rilla took no notice of their exchange. She was in serious trouble of her own, limbs moving spastically and her narrow thorax fluttering. “The Anabasis,” she whistled, on a rising note. “It will be headed by Commander Mondrian, who has principal responsibility for the problem, assisted by Commander Brachis. Your t-task will be simple. You will s-select and t-train Pursuit Teams, to find the — location of — the Morgan Construct. You will follow it to — wherever it is hi — ding.” Now even Dominus could not help. The speech pattern of the Pipe-Rilla was becoming more and more disorganized as its voice rose past the range of human ears. It became a great, shivering whistle, matching the shake of the giant body. “Each pursuit team must contain one — trained — member of — each intelligent species. Tinker — Angel — Human — and … and Pipe-Rilla.” The voice became a supersonic shriek. “The Pursuit Teams will find the Morgan Construct and — they will — destroy it. DESTROY IT!”
The Pipe-Rilla was gone. The Link was broken, the Star Chamber atrium empty except for the huddled form of Dougal MacDougal.
Brachis turned to Esro Mondrian. “What in the name of living hell was all that about?”
Mondrian was rubbing his cheek and staring at the chromatic flicker of the dying Link connection. “I guess she couldn’t stand it. None of them can. No wonder they had to have a Closed Session, and a secret vote.”
“Couldn’t stand what?” Brachis was scowling. It had just occurred to him that according to the Pipe-Rilla’s edict, he now reported to Mondrian. “You’re as bad as they are.”
“Come on, Brachis. You know the prime rule of the rest of the Stellar Group as well as I do. Intelligent life must be preserved. It’s not to be destroyed ever, for any reason.”
“Yeah. As stupid a damned rule as I ever heard.”
“Maybe. But that’s the way they think of it — true at the individual level, and even more true at the species level.”
“So?”
“So they want us to find the Morgan Construct — and destroy it. Suppose it’s really an intelligent living form?”
“Tough. Happens all the time. Hell, I just lost twenty of my best guards.”
“That’s individuals. This Construct is the only one of its kind in the whole universe. Livia Morgan is dead, and we didn’t find her records. Without them we don’t know how to make a Construct. The ambassadors must have gone through agony to make that ruling — you saw them when they were looking at the images from the Cobweb Station probe. They told us we’re the most aggressive species they know — but they must be afraid that the Construct is a lot worse than us.”
“But if they can’t stand the thought of violence, why did they come up with that dumb idea about a member of each Stellar Group on every Pursuit Team? You can see what will happen when a Pursuit Team gets to the Construct and has to wipe it out. The other species will just fall apart.”
“Maybe they will. But that’s consistent, too, with their way of thinking. It’s the old idea of the firing squad, where one man gets a blank instead of a live bullet. Each species won’t know for sure that it was the one responsible for the death of the Morgan Construct.”
“Big deal.” Brachis stared down at the zombie figure of Dougal MacDougal. “I guess we’re dismissed. I don’t see him giving us orders for a while. If I’d been in that meeting, I’d have told us humans to go ahead and catch the Construct for ourselves. I care about intelligent species, too, but I’d blow away a thousand of ’em, and not think twice about it, for solar system security.”
“You’re proving the ambassadors’ point.”
“So what? Even you’ve got more in common with me than any one of them. They’re all less human than a damned jellyfish.” Brachis frowned. “Know what really pisses me off about this whole thing, apart from losing my guards? You screw up a lot worse than me, so the bug puts you in charge of me. Did you ever run across a more ass-backwards logic in your life? You’ve come out a winner! You ought to be in the worst trouble, instead you can sit there grinning all over your face. Though I must say, I don’t see you smiling much.”
“You know me, Luther. I could be laughing my head off inside, and you’d never know it. Come on, let’s go before the ambassador wakes up.”
He led the way out of the Star Chamber.
Esro Mondrian was not laughing, inside or out. He needed to track down the last surviving Morgan Construct. And when he met that Construct, the last thing he wanted around him was members of the other Stellar Groups.
TO: Anabasis (Office of the Director).
FROM: Dougal MacDougal, Solar Ambassador to the Stellar Group.
SUBJECT: Pursuit team selection and assembly.
Item one: Pursuit Teams, General. As agreed in the ambassadorial meeting of 6/7/38, redundancy of Pursuit Teams may be essential. Therefore, a total of ten (10) Pursuit Teams will be established. The final composition of each team will be determined by the Anabasis in consultation with ambassadorial representatives.
Item two: Pursuit Teams, Composition. As agreed in the above meeting, each Pursuit Team must consist of four members: One Human, one Tinker Composite, one Pipe-Rilla, and one Angel. Team members from each species will be proposed by that species. The Anabasis will have the authority to reject candidate team members on the grounds of incompatibility and performance. Any rejection by the Anabasis must be confirmed and approved through the office of the Solar Ambassador.
Captain Kubo Flammarion frowned, reamed at his left ear with the untrimmed nail of a grubby pinkie, and laid down the written document. He ran his right index finger over the last sentence he had read. There it was, Dougal MacDougal pushing into the middle of things. Why should rejections have to go through the Ambassador’s office?
Flammarion sniffed, attacked his waxy left ear again, this time with the point of a writing stylus, and read on.
Item three: Pursuit Teams, General Requirements for Human candidates. Candidates must be unaltered homo sapiens, male or female. Synthetic forms, pan sapiens, delphinus sapiens, and Cap-man modulations are excluded. .
Item four: Pursuit Teams, Selection of Human candidates. Candidates must be less than twenty-four Earth years of age, in excellent physical condition, and unbound by contract commitments. Candidates must also have at least a Class Four education (which may be achieved during training with Anabasis approval).
Item five: Pursuit Teams, Restrictions. Candidates will be excluded if they have military associations, or if they fail standard psychological tests for interaction with aliens.
Item six: Training programs.