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"Yes. If they are mere toys, then there is no longer spacefaring commerce in
the Wormwood system& none that we can detect."
"If there are any inhabitants, are they physical?" Martin asked.
"My guess is they are not. Not in discrete biological bodies, at any rate. All
the moms' profiles of other worlds and their development characteristics tell
us that Nebuchadnezzar and Ramses are old, perhaps a billion years older than
Earth, and that their civilizations, if any remain if there are any
intelligences in control of the planetary activity have transferred to a
non-biological matrix."
"Perhaps they've fled Wormwood entirely," Paola Birdsong suggested.
"Something's going on down there," Hakim said, the merest frown crossing his
brow. "If the primary civilization has abandoned Nebuchadnezzar and Ramses,
they've left machines to perform some task or other."
"It doesn't make sense. If nobody's here, and if we destroy these worlds, what
do we accomplish?" Ariel asked.
"I believe there are intelligences here," Hakim said. "There is activity it is
just very low-key.
Perhaps they have been hiding for a long time, and they are simply growing
lax& "
Martin pondered this for a few seconds. "We go ahead," he said. "We drop the
planetary makers and doers, and if possible, we reconnoiter. Still no evidence
of defenses? "
"None," Hakim said.
"And the five masses inward from Nebuchadnezzar?"
"Still unknown," Hakim said. "I'm giving them full priority now."
The system of planets around Wormwood spanned fifteen billion kilometers, the
major axis of the outermost planet's orbit. The
Tortoise would not resort to extreme acceleration except in an emergency, and
that made the system as vast, with regard to their present flow of time, as
the spaces between the stars. It could take them years to explore,
reconnoiter& Or they could do their Job and get out as best they could, to
rendezvous with
Hare
, and perhaps begin the new life.
Martin made his quarters small and spare, just large enough to suit two
comfortably. He did not request many goods, hoping to set an example for the
others.
There were still tough choices to be made, but they would not be made by vote
of the children.
The decisions were his alone now. The judgment had been passed; the system was
condemned.
But how much could they contribute to the total effort against the planet
killers? How much could they learn here about the development and growth of
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such civilizations, about intelligences so inclined to destroy and murder?
If Wormwood contained clues to the morphology of such civilizations, Martin
argued with himself that they had a duty to learn as much as they could, to
help the Benefactors. That meant time, and study and greatly increased danger.
"I'd like to speak with the War Mother," he said to his wand. A few minutes
later, the War
Mother appeared at the hatch to his quarters, and he asked it to enter. The
black and white paint on its surface had started to flake. They might have to
renew it soon.
He expressed his thoughts about exploring in a few brief sentences, and asked
for advice.
"Any knowledge gathered could be most useful," the War Mother said. "Should we
ever be in a situation to pass on what we learn to another Ship of the Law."
"Would it be crucial
!" Martin asked.
"That is impossible to judge until the knowledge is gathered."
Martin smiled wryly, wondering why he engaged in such conversations at all. As
Pan, it was all up to him to his instincts, which Martin did not trust.
He bit his lip reflectively, sucking in a lungful of cool air. If things went
bad on Mars and
Venus, if the solar system was (or had been
) attacked again and the Benefactors had lost, then the children and records
of Earth contained within the Ships of the Law would be all that remained&
Far more than just their individual selves could be at stake. He wondered if,
at some crucial moment, all Earth might scream through him, the world in his
genes reaching up to his mind, the spirit of terrestrial creation demanding
survival at any cost.
Martin sleeved sweat from his forehead.
I fear the ghost of Earth
.
"Then we concentrate on doing the Job," he said, "and we learn what we can."
For once, he was grateful for the War Mother's silence.
The
Tortoise coasted more quietly than any stone. Within, the children prepared,
watched, listened to the natural whickerings of Nebuchadnezzar and Ramses and
Herod and the high buzz and squeal of Wormwood, tracked the slow courses of
the tiny points of light that were ships.
Drifting, drifting, around the shallow well of Wormwood, across its vast
gently curved prairie of gravitation.
The children became quieter, more somber.
Theresa and Martin still found occasion to make love, but the love was
peremptory, more necessity than enthusiasm. Ramses, slightly larger than
Nebuchadnezzar, had once been covered with thick volcanic haze, high in
sulfuric acid, still evident in traces in its soil. Some internal anomaly a
huge undigested lump of uranium, perhaps had kept it hot and heavy with
volcanism even into its late old age. It had been tamed only by the action of
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