06601030304800 1 2#Todd G. Sutherland F0110030 9[...................................................]001 € 9[..............................]301 NOTHING,NOWHERE 9[........................................................................................]201 „(forPred) 9[.............................................................]101 € Nov.18,8641 DearDanny, Well,accordingtotheStandardCalendar,thisisNovember,whichwasa monthtraditionallyassociatedwithcold,atleastonEarth'snorthern hemisphere.Butit'ssummeronOryonis.Highsummer,astheysay.In Frakkonwewouldsay"lumydu";literally,"stone-fire"inIRSE.Theidea,of course,isthatit'ssohotthestonesfeellikethey'reonfire.Yougrewup inaworldfullofpavement;I'msureyougettheidea.Itwouldbeautumn backinCaloda,amIright?Ienvyyouthecoolevenings;thesimplepleasure ofwalkingaroundwithoutthesensationthatyourpadsweregoingtoblister offatanymoment.Icanhardlybelievepowderygroundcangetthishot!And thenthetoesyouburntduringthedayfreezeoffatnight.Doyourselfa favoranddropanthropology;thesedigsareinvariablyonplanetsthatwere eithertoohellishlyhotornumbinglycoldfortheVespianstoconsider seedingus.WhattheoldhumanssawinOryonisIcan'timagine--iftheywere everreallyhereatall. IknowIshouldn'tsaythat--Dr.Neresterreallyknowshisstuff,and theAdvisorysaysthatOryoniswassubjecttooldhumanhabitationforover fourhundredyears,butforallthat,wehaveyettofindasinglepieceof tangibleproof.ThisisDr.Nerester'sseconddighere,too.Ifhedoesn't comeupwithsomethingbytheendofthestandardyear,theDepartmentof Antiquitieswillmostlikelypullhisdiglicenceandgiveittosomeoneelse. IhearVerdensunUniversityisitchinglikethemangetogetinhere. LikeIsaid,I'mbeginningtoquestionthedig.Isortofwonderedif maybethisisn'tOryonisafterall.ButthegeographymatchestheAdvisory's desciption,sothismustbeit.Ihopeso--it'sahelloflongwaytogoto winduponthewrongplanet!Eightweeks'flighttime--evenwiththe fastestspeedkeytechnologyonthemarket,itstilltakesfourdays,seven hourstosendamessageone-way;that'swhyourlettersbackandforthare takingmorethanawholeweekroundtrip!It'slikelivingpretachyonic,huh? Ican'timaginethetechnologytheoldhumansmusthavehadtobindthemselves togetherintoonepeopleoverthedistancestheyhadtocommunicate.Probably makesspeedkeylooklikeanoteinabottle.Maybewe'llfindout,ifthis digcomestoanything. Dr.NeresterisoftheopinionthatOryoniswasterraformed.Notbythe Vespians,butbytheoldhumansthemselves,fiveandahalfmilleniaago.He feelsthat'swhyit'ssohothere.Theplanetisslowlyrevertingtoits originalcondition.Terrestriallifewillprobablybeextinguishedherein anotherthousandyearsorso;it'lljustbetoohot.Feelslikethatnowto me.Mostofushaven'tevenbeenwearingclothesoutdoors.Ihaven'trun aroundnakedsinceIwasakidonIletia,beforewemovedtothecity.I'll tellyou--I'mseriouslycontemplatingshavingmyselfdown,mayberightdown totheskin.Oneofguys,aCrantanian,didjustthat.Helooksrealugly now,allskin(sortoflikeaoldhuman!).He'scoolernow,butthedrawback isthatnowhisskinburnsfromthesunlight,andhe'suselessoutdoorstill someofhisfurgrowsback.SoifIdoshaveoff,it'llbetoacentimetre thickness.Andnotovermytenderparts.Imightlookalittledifferent whenIgetbacknextyear.Yeah,justintimeforwinter,too. Oh,yeah,onelastthing.Youmightnothearfrommerightawaynext €time.YesterdayDr.Neresterannouncedthathe'ssplittingusupintopairs todosomewidersearching--Iguesshefeelsthepressure.Basically,he pairedusupwithwhoeverwewerestandingnexttoatthetime.IfI'dknown that,IwouldhavestoodnexttoTamaraMcAlpine.Actually,though,Iwas standingbesideBardochFeinerstadtatthatmoment.Whichisn'tsobad,I guess.IthinkImentionedhimlasttime.Level-headed,adecentwit,and friendlyenough.IthinkIcanputupwithhimforafewdays. Writebackassoonasyougetachance,okay? Yours, Poomba. 9[...................................................]001 Twohours'walkfromtheradiostation.Heamusedhimself bydwellingonthesenseofalienationuntilthesensationthat hewastheloneliest,thelastmanintheuniversewaspalpable. Itwouldhavehelpedifhehadbeentrulyalone;twentymetres fromwherehesat,hispartnersleptintheirtiny,fragile shelterperchedhereattheendofeverything. Whilethedustbeneathhisbottomwasstillpleasantly frost-chilled,hestaredupintoablacknessunadulteratedbyany effectofcivilization,intoathickfrostingofstars,foreign andlargelyanonymous,butlovelyallthesame.Hehadalmost forgottenthestars.Hehadlivedlikethisbefore.Butnot „quite€likethis.Hewasremindedofaprayerfromhischildhood; assumingthelotusposition,heclosedhiseyesandbreathedthe wordshebarelyunderstoodanymore. ThedayonOryonisranjustoversometwenty-eightstandard hours;accordingtothechronometerontheshelterthestandard universaltimewas16:24GreenwichMeanTime,asmeasuredbythe rotationofaplanetnoonealivenowhadeverseen.Somewhere ontheEarth,somewhereintheuniverse,itwasmid-afternoon. Andeveryclockelsewherecountedtimebyadeadworld--the chancesthattherewasanyonealiveleftinGreenwichtocare whattimeitwaswereremoteindeed.Onthisparticular,scrubby patchofOryonis,however,itwasnearlydawn.AndPoombasat watching,insilentrespect,asonebyonethestarsabovehim sankintoarushingfloodofsunlightanddrowned.Andwhenthey weregone,andtherewasnofeaturelefttolookatinthe unfamiliarpinksky,hepaddedbacktotheshelter,settling underatreetoawaitthearrivaloftheblastfurnacesunthis worldorbited,theonlyconsolationofwhichwasthefierceshade itcast.Heturnedhisattentiontotheshelter,wonderingwhen Bardochwouldstir,andwashimselfasleepagainbeforelong. Somethingwasbitingthepadofonetoe.Hejerkedawake, involuntarilyyankinghisfootawayfromtheirritation.His eyesflickeredopenandfocusedinonthecrouchedformof Bardochbeforehim,whosehand,poisedforpinching,stillhung wherePoomba'stoeshadbeen."Don't,"Poombacorrectedhim. Bardochtookitinstride.Hestraightened;lookeddownat Poomba."Youwerewanderingaroundallnightagain,weren't you?" Poombafoughttheurgetoclosehiseyesagain."Notall night,"hereplied,andclenchedhisteethtostifleayawn.He €yawnedanyway. Bardochwaited;Poombaaddednothingelse.Bardochglanced backatthetinyplasticbubble,souglyandoutofplacehere. "Youwannaeatnow,orwaittilllater?" "Forwhat?" "Idon'tknow;I'mjustasking..."Bardochsteppedbackas Poombalungedforwardandachinglygottohisfeet.Heslapped thecinnamon-likepowderoutofhisfur;Bardochmadeacoupleof perfunctorysweepsatPoomba'sback.Poombagruntedhisthanks andsteppedtowardtheshelter. BardochstoodoutsideasPoombapushedhimselfintothe shelteranddugaroundinthestores."Anyparticularrequests?" hecalled. "Maybeneblemeal...Idon'tcare,really..." Moreshuffling."Yeah,wegotoneofthoseleft."Poomba startedtoemergefromthedome.Hedroppedtheplasticpackages inthedustandre-enteredtoretrievethestoveandsomewater. Bardochsatdown.Theheatwasalreadyrising. Poombaemergedandshookthewatercollectorskeptically. "Notmuchforawholenight'scondensing,"hecomplained. "It'sadryheat.Bethankfulit'snottoohumid." Poombashothimanimpatientlook."Weneedwater,"he intonedflatly."Icanstandsweating,butIwon'tgotoofar withnothingtoreplaceit."Hepouredasparingamountintoa pananddumpedthecontentsofapackageintoit. "I'lllookafterit,"Bardochoffered. "Don'tworryaboutit,I'vegotit,"Poombawavedhimoff. Hepouredanotherpananddumpedadifferentmixtureintoit,and placedthemsidebysideonthetinyburners.Hestaredvacantly attheunappetizingmuckswirlinginthepans;everythingwas eithersyntheticordehydratedorboth.Nothingtastedquite right,butitwouldn'tmakeyousickanditwouldkeepyoualive. Anditwaspractical.Thatwasabigwordinthissociety,he'd learned;practical.Itwasamagicword;itfacilitatedall things,ordisqualifiedthem.Verylittlewasdoneonawhim withthesepeople.Herememberedatribewithoutfireor weapons,whoseonlydistinctionfromtheanimalstheykilledwas languageandthetraditionsandstory-tellingitmadepossible. Heremembered,too,bloodrunningdownhischin.Warmbodies. Thelaughterofpeoplemurmuringinasimplebuteloquent languagehespokenowonlyindreams."Kepardunimradun,"he whispered:place-other-far;farotherplace.„'Alongtimeago.'€ TherewerenospecifictermsfortimeinFrakkon;Englishhadtoo many.Timewasacage.Evenhere. "Hmm?"Bardochprodded. "Wherearewegoingtosearchtoday?"Poombamumbled wearily.Hestirredthepans,mindlessofthem. Bardochshruggled."Idon'tknow.I'llhavealook."Now itwashisturntohalf-vanishintotheshelter.Hecameout withtheviewpadandpuncheduptheorbitalsurveyofthearea. Heoverlayedthequadrantsthey'dalreadysearched;therewere stillhundredsleft."Maybeweshouldtryhit-and-missinstead ofbeingmethodical,"hesuggested,andturnedtheviewpadto Poomba.Poombaglancedatthepadandthenturnedbacktothe thickeningmixtures,nodding. € Bardochshuthiseyesandtappedhisclawtipblindlyonthe screen.Whenheopenedthem,hesawthetinysquarehe'dchosen blinkingrapidly;itwasanareaaboutahalfakilometrefrom wheretheywerecamped. "Hey,"Poombasaid.Bardochturned;Poombawasholdingthe panofneblemealouttohim."Watchit,it'shot." "Thanks."Hesat.Theyateinsilence;themealswere briefenough. „Practical€,Poombathoughtagain.Whenhehadscrapedthe lastofwhateveritwashe'dbeeneatingoutofthepan,he droppeditinthedustandstoodup.HefacedawayfromBardoch, dugathimselfforamoment,andstartedpissing. Normallyitwouldhavebeenavulgardisplay,butouthere itonlymadesense.Whatwouldhavebeenludicrouswouldhave beengoingbehindatreeorsomesuchneedlessbowtomodesty; therewasnoneouthere.Bardochstood,steppedupbeside Poomba,anddidlikewise.Hestrained."Mineshootsfarther," hesang. Poombasnorted,chucklinginspiteofhimself."Mine's bigger." "Hardly." "Thatwayespecially,"Poombateased. "There,see?"Bardochnoted,shakingoff,"Iknewyou weren'tdead.Justmoping." Poombasatbackdown,andthenlaybackinthewarmsand. "Aw,it'sthisplace,"hesighed,finally."It...Idon'tknow; it'sgettingmedown." "Boring,huh?"Bardochlaydownbesidehim.Drowsiness immediatelyfilledhim;hedecidedtositbackupbutcouldn't findthewill. "Yeah,there'sthat,"Poombaagreed,staringupatthe wispy,tenuouscloudsofadyingworld."Butit'smore.The placeremindsmeofIletia.Thecaves.Ihaven'tthoughtabout themforyears.I'vealwayslivedincitieseversincewemade contact.HappenseverytimeIgoonadigandwindupina wilderness..." Theylayinsilence.Thecloudsmoved,painfully,unrolling intonothingnessastheywent.Bardochsniffed."Icamefrom farmland,"hesaidsleepily."Thingswereprettyquietthere too." "Yeah,butyouwereborninthissociety.Evenifwhereyou happenedtolivewasrural,youwerestilllivingontheedgeof thespaceage.WhereIwasborn,weweren'teveninthestone ageyet."Heproppedhimselfuponhiselbows,glancingat Bardoch,half-asleepbesidehim."AndhereIam,lightyears fromIletia,lookingforartefactsfromacivilizationvanished forthousandsofyears."Heshookhishead."Youknow,on Iletia,IbetIneverwalkedmorethantenkilometresfromwhere Iwasborn." "Iusedtohavetowalktenkilometrestothecentralschool everyday,"Bardochmumbled. "Ah,whatalotofbullshit,"Poombaspat,smackingBardoch intheribs. Bardochjumped."Allright,maybeitwasn'ttenkilo metres,"hegrinned."Butitwasstillalongwaytome."He €clearedhisthroatandsettledback."It'salongwaytothedig sitetoday,too..."Hemoanedsoftly. "Yeah..."Poombalookedforthecloudhe'dbeenfollowing; he'dlostit."Whydon'twejustforgetaboutitfortoday? Nobody'sgonnaknowthedifferenceifwejustscrewoffforone day." "Mmm,"Bardochpondered. "Besides,"Poombauttered,lowly,"Idon'treallythink we'regoingtofindanythingonOryonisanyway." "That'snotmuchofanattitude,"Bardochscolded. "Isn'tit?Sorry." "Whoknowswhattheotherteamsmighthavedugupbynow?" Bardochspeculated."Wholecities,fullofwonders..." "Sanitaryfixtures,"Poombasuggested.Bardochchuckledin appreciation.Poombashuthiseyes."Mine„is€biggerthan yours,"heasserted. "Iknow." Warmbreezeshadsettleddustinhisfur;hecouldtasteit inhismouthasheblinkedawake.Thesunwashighoverhead;he feltsurethatifhestoodup,hegroundhe'dsleptonwouldbe darkerthantherest.Hesatup,panting.Damntheblackfur; itwasonfire.HelookedjealouslyatBardoch,blessedwitha soft,handsomecoatoflightbrown,almostblondfurwithsilver highlights.Heplayedwithafewtuftsbetweenhisfingers,and justforamoment,entertainedtheideaofskinningthemanfor it."Luckybastard,"hethought. Allthesleepwaswrungoutofhim;ifenergywasa commoditythatranout,thenitseemedevensleepranout eventually.Hesatup,feelingrestless.Histhoughtsturned, somewhatwillfully,toTamara,thegirlfromNimbrasalawhohad becomeratherfriendlywithhimoflate,beforeDr.Neresterhad splitthemalluptowidenthesearch.Hetriedtorecallwho shehadbeenpairedwithandwhattheymightbeuptorightnow. Theinteresting,hypnoticstripedpatternsofhercoatshifted nowbeforehiseyesandhefeltatinglingsensationstirinhis groin;itvanishedasquicklyasitarrived,chasedawaybythe oppresiveheat,carriedontheairasthickasblood.He grinned.Wherevershewas,Tamaraprobablywasn't'upto' anythingrightnow. Helookedaround,pokingthedustwithastickanddoodling littlemeaninglessswirlsinit.Accordingtotheorbital survey,wheretheywerecampedwasrightinthemiddleofalarge complex--oratleastwhereacomplexhadstoodsixthousand yearsago.Thegroundwaspackedandpatternedhere,supposedly. Youcouldseeitinthescan.Poombalookedaroundhimandall hesawwasthedrybrowndust. Bardochwaslookingathim."You'reawake?"Poombastarted. "Yeah.I'vebeenawakeforawhilenow." "Whydidn'tyousayanything?" Bardochshruggedashoulderwherehelay."Iwastryingto figureoutwhatyouwerethinking." PoombarefrainedfrommentioningTamara.Bardochwouldn't haveappreciatedit.Besides,histhoughtshadturnedtoother things."Doyoureallythinkthere'sanythinglefthere?" € "Sure.Thingshavebeenfoundonotherworlds.The Invaderscouldn'thavebeenonehundredpercentthorough, otherwisewewouldn'tbeheretoday." "Sixthousandyearsisalongtime." "It'samillisecondingeologicalterms,"Bardochreminded him."Theplaceprobablylooksalotlikeitdidbackthen. Onlymaybenotasgreen." PoombaturnedontohisstomachandfacedBardoch."Why don'twegolook?Takeouttheviewpadandgotothatspotyou picked.I'vehadsomuchsleepthelastwhileIdon'tthinkI'll beabletosleeptonightanyway,soitdoesn'tmatterwhenweget back." Bardochshruggedagain."Allright.Let'sgrabafew thingsandgo." Poombastood."Whydon'twejustmovethewholelot?" "Yeah,allright.Setupcampagainwhenwegetthere." Theypulledtheirmeagerequipmentoutofthelittledomeand packeditintoalargebackpack;Bardochhelpedhoistitonto Poomba'sback.Poombastood,bentundertheload,andwatchedas Bardochpressedareleaseontheshelter.Itsthin,air-filled wallsbegantodeflate;mooringandsupportsretracted,and withinaminuteithadfoldeditselfupintoapacknotmuch largerthanPoomba's. "Toobadwecan'ttraintherestoftheequipmenttodo that,"Poombaobserved.Bardochgrinnedandnodded.Theheat andtheburdenprecludedwastedbreath. Theyheadedoffinadirectionvaguelynorthwestofthe originallandingsite,whereevennow,Poombafeltcertain,Dr. Nerestersatinrelativephysicalcomfort,waitingtohearback fromhisvariousbanishedstudents.Waitingforthemtomakeor breakhisreputation. HelookedattheviewpadinBardoch'shands.Bardochstared atitpointlesslyastheymovedslowlyoverthebakingdust,as ifsomethingonthescreenweregoingtochange.Actually,he suspected,Bardochwaslosinghimselfinthedisplay,keepinghis mindofftheheatandthestrain.Hethoughtofaskingforthe viewpadhimself,butrealizedthatwouldbepetty.Andbesides, itwastheirmostimportantpieceofequipment,foralotof reasons.Itshowedthemwheretheywereheading,servedasa compass,andwhileitprovidednorealcommunicationwiththe others,iftheybecamelostorfoundsomethingofnotetheycould activateahomingsignalthatwouldalerttherestofthe expedition.Itwouldn'tdotobreakitinachildishscuffle. Hewantedwater.Buttherewaslittleenoughasitwas. Theycouldn'tbesureofwhichplantsweresafe;noonehaddone thatkindofsurveyonOryonisyet.Sotherewaseitheropen freshwater,whichnoonehadfoundyetinthearea,orvapor excruciatinglyekedoutoftheair.Hewaspanting;aprecious beadofsalivaplungedfromhistongue.Heshuthismouth,but theurgereturnedanditsoondroppedopenagain.Hewanted water. Walkandwalkandneveronceleavethespaceasingle complexhadonceoccupied.Howcouldtherebenothingleftof it,ifithadeverreallybeenhere?Itseemedfutile,likeone ofthosedreamswhereyouceaselesslypursuesomedesperately €importantgoal,somethingthatseemspatentlyabsurdwhenyou wakeup.Hewonderedifheweren'thallucinating,wanderinga badlands,lookingforthingsthatweren'tthere.Histhoughts turnedtothelush,greenforestsofchildhood.Theicy, mountain-shedrivers.Theuniquesenseofbeingtheonlysource ofheatintheworld,withthesungivingonlylight,andyour bodywiththepowertomeltallthesnowsinthehills,given enoughtime.Seeingyourbreathalivewithheat;seeingitrise offthetribe.Thefurious,free,openheatoflove.Aliving heat,allofit,soulsburningunquenchablyinthecoolworld. Thisheataroundhimwasdead.Sterile.Heatwithoutwarmth. AlthoughthatideasoundedstupidinEnglish,inFrakkonsit wouldhavebeenprofound.Likethethoughtthatthedeaddirt belowhisfeetwasthedustofoldhumanbones,groundtopowder byagesofwind,andtherainsthathardlyevercameanymore. Thescrubtreesthatdottedtheplainweregnarledandtwisted, eventheyoungones,asiftheywerebornelderly.Poombashook offanonrushofchildishsuperstition,afeelingthattheplace wasevilanddrawingoffhissoulasifbyevaporation.He glancednervouslyatBardoch,thecountryboy,forreassurance, butBardochwasstilltiedupintheviewpadanddidn'tnotice. Poomba'seyesnarrowedjustalittlewithresentment,andhe facedaheadagain. Themesas,farawayoverthehorizon,climbedlikestrange abodesintothesky;theytoowerenakedhere,asiftheheathad madethemcastoffthetreesandgrassestheymightoncehave worn.Poombathoughtoftheerodednubmountainsofhisbirth, perpetuallycappedinaceilingofmistthathungabovethe valley.Nothingwasforbidden;therewasnosuchthingasan organizedlawamongthetribe,onlyconvention.Buthecould neverrememberanyoneclimbingthathigh.Maybetherewasno foodupthere.Maybethewintersweretoosevere,eveninfur. Ormaybeitwassomethingelse.Aperceptionofsanctity,of propriety;theideathatsomeplacesaremeantforOthers.And hefeltthatnow,faceturneddowntohisfeet,stealingglances underhisbrowattheabruptridgesandtheflattopstheyhid: hefeltwatched. Bardochstoppedsuddenly,standingboltstraight.Itjarred Poomba,takinghimbysurprise,andhecrouchedjustforan instantuntilherealizedwhyBardochhadstopped."Ithinkthis isit,Rick,"Bardochsaid,callinghimbythenamethe civilizershadgivenhimforofficialpurposes. Poombaletthepackfallfromhisbacklikearagdoll might.Bardochsaidnothing,butwasmorecarefulputtingdown theshelter.Hepressedabuttonandsteppedbackandleftitto reconstructitself;heturnedhisattentiontothesite. Poombawaskneelingwiththeopenpackbeforehim;hewould havehiswaternow,nomatterwhat.Therewereonlyafew litres;hisimpulsewastodownitall,butthatwouldhavebeen bothgreedyandshortsighted.Heswalloweduntilhisthroatno longerseemedtoabsorbthewateronthewaydown,andthen stoppedshort.Hewipedhismouthacrosshisarmandwordlessly heldthecontainerouttoBardoch,whoaccepteditwithanodand drankjustasconservatively. Thesunwaslowerintheskynowandcastingtheirshadows €longer.Therewerestillseveralhoursofdaylightleft.Poomba glancedaroundandfrowned.Moreofthesame.Nothing.But he'dwantedtocome,sohetheywere.Hepulledoutan instrumentandcuffedittohiswrist;roseandmovedslowly around,armextendedandpointingatthegroundbeforehimashe went.Bardochdidlikewise,movingintheoppositedirection. Thedetectorwhirredsoftlywiththebackgroundmetallic tracesinthesoil.WhatevertheInvadershadpoundedthe buildingwith,itwascertainlyeffective.Afterseveral minutes,themachinebeganmakingafuss,andhedroppedtohis kneesandscoopedintothesandwithhisbarehands. Bardochwastherealmostatonce."Whatdidyoufind?"he breathed,bendinglowandplacingahandonPoomba'sshoulder. Poombaheldupanirregularchunkofbrowninsh-red,and lookeditover."Justapieceofore,itlookslike,"he decided. "Hmm,"Bardochagreed,glumly."Betterputitinthepouch anyway,sowecanhaveitanalysedwhenwegetback.Couldbea moltenartefact.Bettersafethansorry." "Iguessso,"Poombasighed. Bardochgavehimacoupleofpatsontheshoulder."Don't worry,we'llfindsomething.It'sjustamatteroftime." "When?"Poombaprompted.Heshovedtheblockintothepouch onhishipandstoodagain.Bardochmovedbacktowherehe'd been. The'when'Poombahadaskedaboutarrivedinlessthanan hour. Theyhadmovedaparttosuchanextentthattheywereonly juststillwithinearshotofeachother.Buttherecameamoment whengleefulshoutsintrudedontheboringhumofthedetector. Poombaspun,tryingtospotBardoch.Inthedistance,thebeige formwavedfrantically,jumpingchildishly,andtheaircarried thebarestedgesofhisfoolishcries.Poombathrewdownthe pouchandthedetectorandbeganrunning.Hispowerfulstrides dissovledthedistancebetweenthemoverseveralsecondsuntil finallyhedugintostophimself.Bardochjumpedinfrontof him,tryingtotakehimbytheshoulders,andtheycollidedand felloveroneanother.BardochscrambledupandseizedPoombaby thearm,babblinganddragginghimalongashefoughttostand up.Poombafinallywrenchedhisarmfree,demanding,"Whatis it?Whatdidyoufind?!" "This!!"Bardochcried,asifitwereself-explanatory. Thenhefelltohiskneesandreachedintoahand-excavated hollow.Heretrievedsomethingandstood,andturningaround,he presentedtheobjectbeforethem."This!" Hehelditgingerly,likethepricelessitemitwas,butas awesomeasthemomentwas,itlookedtoPoombaforalltheworld likeagaudypaperweight.Theybothstaredatit,transfixed. Itlookedlikealargeegg,madeofamber,withametallicbase. Itsopticalpropertieswereintriguing:onecouldseeintoitbut notthroughit;theinteriorsurfaceoftheoppositesideformed amirror,nomatterhowitwasturned.Sunlightglistenedonit, andthedustfellawayfromitasifrepelled.Itlookedasif ithadonlyjustbeenmanufactured.Whateveritwas. "Whatisit?"Poombafinallymanaged.Bardochwasunderits €spell;Poombahadtopokehimintheribsandrepeatthequestion beforehegotanyresponse. "Idon'tknow,"Bardochwhispered,asifitcouldhearhim. Hiseyesneverstrayedfromthetreasure. EvenPoombaseemednottobeabletoturnhisgaze,evenas hecrouchedbythehollow."Isthereanythingelse?"heasked, feeblingpawingatthedirt. "Idon'tthinkso,"Bardochmumbled.Poombadoubledthe sizeoftheholebeforegivingup,needingtolookatthething again.Hestood,rejoiningBardochinthepatheticgazing. Itwasold,herealized.Soold.Oldhumanshadmadeit. Oldhumanhandshadtouchedit,evenasBardoch'sdidnow, milleniaago.Thousandsofyearsbeforetheywereborn.Long beforethefirstofhispeoplehadeversetfootinthehills, Poombarealized,thisthinghadbeenmadeandlongabandoned.It hadlainburiedinthedirtforgenerationsbeforehisworldwas evendreamedofbytheVespians.Itwasasoberingthought indeed. Hisfingertipsfoundit,andBardochsurrendereditwithout comment,sharingthemagicwiththewonderofachild.Whatever itwas,itdidn'tmatter.Notnearlyasmuchasthatitsimply didexist.Itwaslikesolidproofofsomethingyoubelievedbut alwayshadtobealittleskepticalabout,likereligion.Butit wasreal.Oldhumanshadstoodhere.Anddiedhere.Andinsome smallway,werestillhere. "Maybeweshouldtryandfigureoutwhatitis,"Poomba said.Allthecynicism,thedoubt,thewearinesshadbeen flushedoutofhim.He'dknownallalonghewouldfeellike this,buthehadn'tdaredadmitit. Bardochsetitdownontheground,upright,andasgentlyas ifitreallywereanegg.Andthenthepairofthemkneltlow besideit,staringatit,asifwaitingtoseewhatitwoulddo. Bardochopenedacompartmentintheviewpadandpulledoutatiny opticalscanneronacord.Hefooledwiththeviewpadtocallup theappropriateprogramsandpointedthethingattheegg. "Whatisit?"Poombaprodded. "It'snotglass,andit'snotevenacrystallattice.It's somesortofceramic,Ithink..." "Transparent?" Bardochignoredhim."There'snointernalorganization;the moleculararrangementisrandom."HelookedatPoomba,blinking, andremarked,"butit'sloadedwithmicroscopicareasof polarity." "Acomputingelement?"Poombasuggested. "Whatelse?"Bardochbreathed."Whatelsecoulditbe?" "Molecularcurcuitry,"Poombamarvelled."Probablyyearsin advanceofanythingwe--" Bardochinterruptedhim."No.No,it'swaymoresubtle thanthat...Theregionsofpolaritydon'textendovermolecular distances.They'resosmall,thescannerhastroublepicking themup.MyGod,Poomba,thesearen'tmolecularswitchesatall. They'resubatomic." Poomba'sbreathlefthim.Theywerefamous.Nodiscoverya centuryeithersideofthemwouldbethismomentous.Hetriedto maintainsomedegreeofcomposure."Whatsortofmemoryarewe €talkinghere,huh?Imean,howmuchinformationcouldthisthing hold...?" Bardochshuthiseyes."Howmanysubatomicparticlesarein thisthing?Ifituseschargedparticlesforswitchingelements, well...Therecouldbemoreswitchesinthisoneitemthanin thebrainsofhundredsandhundredsofpeople.Idon'tknow. ButIdoknowit'snearlyfull.Almostninetypercent polarized." "It'sfullofstuff,"Poombababbled. Bardochlaughed,overwhelmed."Justimagine,"hesqueeked. "Justimagine." "Howdoesitwork?" "There'sasocketonthebottom,"Bardochpointed,"whichis probablywhereitconnectedtosomecomputer,orI/Oport. Accordingtotheviewpad,theswitchesoperatewhenstimulatedby radiationatthewavelengthemittedbyhydrogen." "Youmeanwecouldgetthisthingtodosomething?Even now?" "Well,Idon'tknow.Maybewecouldturnafewswitcheson andoff,butunlessthisthing'sholographic,Ican'tseewhat gooditwoulddo.There'snomeansforoutput." PoombagrabbedBardoch."Maybeitisholographic!Maybe that'swhyit'stransparent;maybeitprojectsoffthemirrored side!" Bardochfrowned."Maybe..." "Tryit!"Poombashovedthescannerathim."Sendabeam thewavelengthofhydrogenintoit!" "No!Wecoulddamageit!" "Ifitevenstillworks!"Poombacried. "Weshouldwaittillwecanturnitovertosomeone competent--" "Likewho?"Poombashot.Bardoch'smouthfluttered,buthe knewPoombahadhim.Poombasaid,"Whenthecomputerbuffsget theirhandsonthisthing,youknowwhatthey'regonnasay? 'Sendabeamthewavelengthofhydrogenintoit.'Ifthat'show thesecretsaregoingtobefathomedanyway,wouldn'tyourather ournamesgodowninhistorythansomeoneelse's?" "Well...WeshouldatleastwaittillwecanshowittoDr. Nerester..." Poombathrewhisarmsup."Ifyoupressthecallbutton rightnow,it'llbeatleastthreehoursbeforeanyonegetshere! ThreehourstillNerestercomes,says'Thankyou'andtakesthe creditforthefindofthecentury!"Heputanarmaround Bardoch,andbuzzedconspiratorilyinhisear."What'stheworst thingthatcouldhappen?Nothinghappens.Okay,sothenweknow wecan'taccessanything.Butwhatifwecan...?" Bardochnoddedslowly."Allright.We'lltryaweakbeam andseeifwegetanything."Poombaslappedhimontheback. Bardochpressedinafewcalculationsonthescreen,pointedthe scanner,andemittedthebeam. Instantlytheeggsilvered.Itwasnowfullymirrored,all thewayaround.Theysawtheirowndumb-struckfaceswarpedon itssurface. "Oh,shit,"Bardochsnarled. "Takeiteasy,"Poombasoothed,notveryeffectively,"it's €probablyjustananti-tamperdevice.Wejuststrokeditthe wrongway,that'sall." "Yeah,maybe,"Bardochcroaked."Ormaybeit'sscrewedup forgood.I'mgoingtocallfortheothers..." Poombagrabbedattheviewpadwithavehemencethatstarted Bardoch."No!Don'tbestupid!There'splentyoftimetotake thisthingbackthere.Useyourhead." Bardochgrowled,"Whatareyoutalkingabout?" PoombapushedhishandflatonBardoch'schest."Ifwe're smartwhatwe'lldoitmakeagoodthoroughsearchofthis immediatearea.Ifwedon'tfindanythingbytomorrow,wecall themandshowthemthisthing.Butifwedo,wekeepworkingit tillwe'vegoteverythingoutofthegroundthat'sworthgetting out."HecockedaneyebrowanddroppedhishandfromBardoch. Bardochstrokedhischin."Yeah,thatisasmartidea.No reasonweshouldn'tgetasmuchcreditforthedigaswecan." Poombajabbedahandatthehole."Solet'sdig!" Bardochplacedthediscoveryinapouch,gatheredoneortwo tools,anddroppeddownbesidePoombaatthelittletrenchthey'd cleared. Byduskitwasabigtrench.Abigemptytrench.Andthey laybesideit,halfinandhalfoutofit,exhausted."Aw, shit,"Poombarumbled. "Let'sjustbegladforwhatwe'vegot,"Bardochreminded him."Imean,it'snotexactlypeanuts,youknow." Poombasmiled.Thismorning,hewouldhavebeenhappyto findacan,akey,abolt,anypieceofrubbishthatproved someonehadbeenhere.Nowthey'dfoundthediscoveryofa lifetimeandhewasfeelinggyppedbecausetherewasn'tmore. "You'reright,"hesaid,turningtoBardoch."We'regonnabe famous,evenifwedidalotofdiggingfornothing." "Nobodyhastoknowaboutthatpart,"Bardochgrinned, rollinghiseyes. "We'vedoneahellofaday'swork,"Poombasighed."So let'sjustunwind.Wedeserveit." "That'sforsure,"Bardochgroaned,grimacingandrubbing hisback.Hisearspricked.Hefroze,andhiseyespoppedopen. "Didyouhearsomething?" "Likewhat,didyoucrackyourspineorsometh--" "No!Imeanlikesomethingmoving." Poombawasmakingalecherousnoiseinreplywhenavoice croonedimmediatelybehindthem:"Greetings." Theyspun,gainingtheirfeetinaninstant.Therebefore theminthetwilightstoodatallmetalman.AnATJES.A 'Vespian'. Therewasnomistakingit,eventhoughnoonenowlivinghad everseenone.Atleast,notofficially,notface-to-face. EveryonehadseenTheContact;itwasrecordedonvideo.Agroup offiveVespianshadappearedontheplanetEscalia,outof nowhere,inthemiddleofthelegislatureinPozwon,thecity thatbecameLibertasandremainedtothisdaythecapitolofthe Republic.Itwasbeforethefirstspaceflight,thespreadingof theRepublictootherworlds,andwaspromptedbythesplitting oftheatom.TheVespianslaiditallout:wherehumanityhad comefrom,whereithadgone,allthathadhappened.Theystayed €forfivedays,addressedallthemajorpowers,andleftthe Advisory,asortof'cluebook'tohistoryandtheimmediate cosmos,andthecompletevocabularyandsyntaxoftheInter nationalReceivedStandardEnglishthattheyspoke.Andthen theyweregone. Tillnow. "Greetings,"itsaidagain."Donotbealarmed."Itspoke perfectly,freeofanyaccent,justthewaytheAdvisorytaught. Thevoicewaswarm,vibrant,andnonsibilant,buttherewas somethingmissing,somethinglistenedforwiththeheartandnot theear:thewasnosoulbehindthevoiceatall.Itwasthe voiceofadeadthing.Awalkingcorpse.Aghost.Iteven lookedlikeaskeleton,afterafashion. Thethingstoodovertwometerstall.Ithadsixserpentine limbs,andstooderectontwoofthem.Twoarmsendedinhands, andtwoinnasty-lookingspikedcudgelsthatreputedlyhoused laserweapons,althoughthishadneverbeendemonstrated.Its pupilless,narroweyesglowedthecolorofdyingembers.Whenit spoke,itsvoicecamefromnowhere,asiftheveryairspokefor it."Ihavecomefortheelement,"ittoldthem. Poombawantedtourinate.Hefoughttheurgeunsuccess fully.Bardoch,preoccupied,sidesteppedthestream.Hesaid, "Whoareyou?" Thethingfacedhim,staringstraightintohim,andBardoch wantedtopisstoo.Itsaidtohim,"Iamarepresentativeof Control.IspeakonbehalfoftheCoordinator.Ihavecomefor theelement."Itspokeasifitexpectedtheyunderstoodevery reference.Fortunately,theydid. "Theegg?"Poombaaskedstupidly. "Ihavecomefortheelement." "Isityours?Didyouloseit?"Bardochquavered. "Itwaslostlongago.Itbelongedtothepeoplewhoonce livedhere."Itpaused.Itadded,"Thisplanetisyours.I requirethesurrenderoftheelement." "Why?"Poomba,inspiteofthepuddleathisfeet,had gainedboldnessattherealizationtheywereabouttolose everything. "Itcontainsinformationwhichcouldthreatenyoursociety atthispointinitsdevelopment,"itreplied,soothinglyand directly. "Whatkindofcrapisthat?"Poombagrowled. "Shutup,"Bardochhissed.Headdressedthemachine."It's in,uh,"hepointed,impotently,andthemachineturnedtofollow thegesture,"...it'sinthatpouchthere." Twomajesticstridescarriedtherobottothepouch.With aninhumanmachinegraceitretrievedthesilveryeggand replacedthepouch."Thankyou,"itsaid. "Waitaminute!"Bardochpleaded."Howdidyoufindit? Howdidyouknowitwashere?" "Yourinvestigationsofittriggeredanalarm,"itreplied. "Itwasdetected.Anditwasdeterminedthatthiselementshould beretrieved.Thankyouforyourcooperation,"itconcluded. "Wait!" Themachinepausedagain. "Where--wheredidyoucomefrom?Howdidyougethere?" € "Intime,youwillknow." Itwasgone.Withoutasound. "Dighereforwater." Theyspun.Theycaughtaglimpseofthethingstandinga fewmetersacrosstheplain.Thenagainitwasgone. "Jesus,"Poombasaid.Bothofthemlookedaroundnervously, butthistimeitreallywasgone. Afewminutespassedbeforeeitherofthemcouldspeak again.Thesunwasgoneanditwasdark.Theheathadvanished abruptlyandthenightsideoftheplanetwasplungingintothe cold.Poombanoticedhisbreath."Thisfriggin'planet,"he said,finally. "Nobody'sgoingtobelievethis,"Bardochstated. "Sowho'sgoingtotell?"Poombareplied. Bardochlookedathim."Youcouldkeepthisasecret?" Poombapulledasourfaceathim.Snottilyhereeled,"Gee, fellahs!Wewerediggingandwefoundthiscomputerthingthat wouldhaveadvancedsciencetwoorthreehundredyears--uhhuh uhhuh!Butthenthisrobotappearedoutofnowhereandtookit awayandthenjustdisappeared!Andthat'sthetruth,Iswear it!" Bardochstared.Poombasaid,"Idon'tsupposedyousaved anyofthedatayoucollectedwhenyouscannedit?" Bardochmumbled,"Uh,no,Ijust...scanned.Ididn'tthink therewasanyreasonto--" "Yeah,that'swhatIthought."Poombasighed,andmotioned forBardochtofollow."C'mon,"hegroaned. "Forwhat?" "Weshoulddigforthatwaterhewastalkingaboutbeforewe forgetwhereitis.Thenwecandrinkasmuchaswewant tomorrow." "Let'sjustmarkthespot,okay?I'mtired.Whataday," Bardochmoaned.Poombadugadeep'x'intothegroundwherethe machine'sprintswere. "Let'sgobacktotheshelter.It'sgettingcoldouthere," Poombasaid,andpromptlytrippedwithayelpandfellflat.He grabbedhisstubbedtoe,rockinginpain. Bardochbenddown.Hebrushedawaysomedustandthen hauledalong,narrowtubeoutoftheground."Well,whatdoyou know,"hesaid."Lookslikepiping.Theremustbeawater sourcehereafterall." "Terrific." "It'snotthefindofthecentury,"Bardochopined,"butit mightjustturnouttobethefindoftheexpedition."Hehefted thetubingandsmiled."Congratulations,Rick.Yougetan'A'."