“The best experts I have been able to assemble tell me that these buildings have been grown, just like the trees have been,” Devlin added. “The Periglus are using them for shelter, for we have picked up traces of carbon emissions.”
“They breathe oxygen…” someone whispered.
“Precisely,” Devlin said. “They are warm-blooded oxygen breathers. That isn’t why I brought you all here, though. Two days ago, I asked the Varkan to do a high-altitude pass over Kashya.”
“How high?” Catherine asked.
“Just beneath their parked fleet,” Devlin replied.
More mutters and sub-aural comments passed around the room and Catherine agreed with the sudden uneasiness. Such a fly-by was risky. The fleet of ships might well be parked. That didn’t mean they were dormant. There was still too much they didn’t know about the Periglus and their capabilities.
“It was pure hunch that made me ask for the fly-by,” Devlin said. “We’ve had weeks of feedback from close to the surface but I suddenly wanted to see the view from space. This is what we saw.”
He touched the board again.
The single image replicated itself across all the screens.
Catherine stared at it. The buildings were still visible from the high altitude, only reduced to dots by the distance. They were laid out in very regular rows and there were hundreds of them.
“More buildings,” someone said.
“Yes, more buildings,” Devlin agreed. “I didn’t see it at first, either. Now I can’t
not
see it. The Varkan who brought back these images was very excited. He was babbling, in fact. I’ve spent the intervening two days checking his results and asking a lot of experts a lot of questions and it has been reconfirmed a dozen times. These buildings are laid out as mathematical representations.”
Catherine caught her breath.
Devlin looked around the room as everyone else seemed to do the same thing. He nodded. “Yes, this is how the Periglus communicate,” he added.
Charlton Space City, New Cathay (Ji Xiu Prime), Ji Xiu System, Perseus Arm. FY 10.187
It took many minutes for silence and order to be restored. Catherine stared at the images while everyone around her shouted over the top of everyone else. She couldn’t read the buildings. They were just a line of dots and spaces to her. She knew, though, the Varkan would be able to read the messages there, if there were any, with the same ease that she read text.
She found where Bedivere was standing, on the other side of the table from her and all the way down at the end. He was staring at the image, too, his eyes narrowed as he studied them.
What were they saying to him?
Devlin held up his hands, high over his head, waiting for everyone to see him and fall silent once more. It took ninety long seconds for silence to reassert itself.
“I know you have a lot of questions. I can answer some of them. Not all of them. That is why I have brought this to your attention. We will have to work on this together, using our combined talents—human and Varkan, both. The mathematics are the province of the Varkan, but the language the mathematics represents…that is an analogue skill best left to humans.”
“Your Varkan can’t read it right now?” someone asked.
“They are not
my
Varkan,” Devlin said swiftly and firmly. “The Varkan merely choose to work with me on different projects, this being one of them. No, they can’t read the mathematics. Not yet. They assure me it
is
a communication and I have had three separate confirmations that the Varkan believe this is a warning.”
Silence. Everyone was staring at Devlin again.
Catherine was, too.
“A warning against what? The Periglus?” someone asked.
Devlin shook his head. “A warning about their enemy, the one that took their home world and everything they hold precious. The buildings they grow are a record of their history and their history is violent and bloody…and they were the victims.”
“If they have an enemy, that enemy could be our ally.” Catherine recognized the governor of Barros’ voice.
Devlin shook his head again. “When we realized that these buildings are a code, I had someone fly by Varnham. The buildings are in early stages of growth there, yet there are enough of them for the Varkan to recognize the same pattern there. The Periglus are repeating this warning everywhere they go and the tenor of the warning is clear, that their enemy is overwhelming and must be avoided at all costs.” He held up his hands again as the muttering and unease grew. “Think it through,” he urged. “Only intelligent species could read these warnings and interpret them. And by interpreting the warnings, they are also learning how to communicate with the Periglus themselves. If they make contact after that, then the Periglus know they have a potential ally on their doorstep.”
“You’re not suggesting we deal with them?” Barros demanded in his loud baritone. “They destroyed three of our planets!”
“They didn’t know we are sentient,” Catherine replied.
Devlin pointed to her. “If we communicate using mathematics, then they will understand the error they made. They didn’t destroy Kashya in anger.” He looked around the room, drawing their attention. Holding it. “They did it out of fear,” he finished.
* * * * *
The meeting deteriorated after that, as everyone struggled to be heard. Catherine shifted on her feet, wishing mightily that she could order a coffee or something cold to soothe her throat. There were too many people between her and the servery dispenser to make it worth the struggle to push through them all. So she stepped back, easing her way until the wall was at her back. There was plenty to think about until order was restored.
Gradually, the first panic and shock dispersed and the room grew quieter. Devlin picked his moment and spoke loudly, over the top of the few people still talking. The images on the screens arrayed down the table were flipping through in rotation now. There were thousands of them.
“Tell me you don’t want peace!” Devlin cried.
That silenced them.
“Tell me you don’t want to spend the rest of your lives running away each time the Periglus hove into view,” Devlin added, “and I will adjourn this meeting right now and never bother you again.”
The silence was total.
Some of the louder protestors shifted on their feet, their discomfort showing, including Barros.
“Put like that…” Barros rumbled.
“Exactly,” Devlin said. “This is the solution we’ve been looking for. This is the key to halting the Periglus. Once we decode their mathematics into a language we can use to build our own message, then we can speak to them. It might take a long time. It might take hundreds of years to reach an understanding, but we have that time thanks to the Varkan who destroyed the jump gates the Periglus were using—the gates that lead them straight to populated worlds, instead of the many empty ones on the way that they might have settled instead.”
Devlin gave them no time to consider that. He pushed on. “I propose we rebuild our star systems and our lives. I also propose that we also work to unravel the Periglus language and when we are ready, we reach out to them.”
“And what sacrificial lamb gets to take that first message to them?” Barros demanded.
“If no one else wants to, I will,” Devlin said evenly.
Catherine gasped, straightening up from her slouch against the wall. No one was looking at her. No one noticed. They were all watching Devlin, absorbing his offer.
She looked for Bedivere, to see if he had seen the implications behind Devlin’s simple words. The phrasing had been reasonable. Whoever that first person was who tried to speak to the Periglus, there was a good chance they wouldn’t survive the encounter. Had Devlin deliberately made them think of it in those terms only?
Except that Barros had mentioned sacrifice first.
Bedivere was studying Barros, frowning.
Had Barros been feeding Devlin the openings he needed?
Her heart hurried along as Catherine considered that possibility. That meant that Devlin
wanted
to be able to offer himself up as the sacrificial lamb…because the flipside of that role was that he would be representing all of humankind and the Varkan, too.
She tried to steady her breath as the implications slammed into her. If she was right, then Devlin was setting himself up to become the leader of the known worlds.
Could he really be that insidious?
Devlin Woodward?
Bedivere didn’t like him and had hinted at something.
Catherine couldn’t breathe. She was suddenly frightened. If Devlin really was that ambitious, then he was far more perilous than any man she had ever met. He had a spotless past and a flawless record of humanitarian good deeds. He was beloved everywhere he went…which meant he knew how to cover his tracks.
She hugged herself, the chill eating into her bones.
No wonder Bedivere had been so cautious. She was working for the most dangerous man in the universe.
She stayed with her back to the wall, a good seven meters away from Devlin where he stood at the top of the table and watched as he was elected by loud acclaim the representative of the settled human and Varkan galaxy…and no one noticed.
Devlin had assignments for everyone. The work of analyzing and translating the mathematical messages was divided up into portions. Each planet and star system had resources or expertise that was unique to them and Devlin took advantage of the available pool of talent. The planetary governors, who had no idea they had just voted themselves into a newly formed monarchy, hurried away to complete their assignments.
He was good. Very, very good. For a moment, doubt assailed her. She had been looking at Devlin as though he was a monster. He had done so much, brought such massive change to the galaxy…could such naked ambition be hidden behind that?
As the numbers thinned around the table, Catherine straightened up from her lean against the wall. She was cold, chilled down to the bone. Coffee had never sounded so promising and she slipped between the governors still waiting for their assignments, over to the servery wall where the dispensers sat.
Bedivere met her half-way there.
She reared back, as if he had surprised her. “We have nothing left to discuss!” she snapped.
Bedivere halted. He didn’t frown or look puzzled. Instantly, his face darkened with anger. “You’ve become closed-minded since you took up with the politicians. All I’m trying to—”
“I’m not interested in what you think you’re
trying
. Results are the only thing I’m interested in. You’ve spent too long in your Darzi trance, Bedivere. Go back to your den and leave me alone.”
Everyone left in the bright boardroom was listening now. Her accusations brought a soft, stifled gasp from many of them.
Bedivere’s hands dropped back to his sides. He just stood there, defeated.
Then, silently, he turned and left.
Catherine pressed her fist hard against her chest. Her heart was hurting and she felt sick with adrenaline overload. She didn’t look at anyone in the room, not even Devlin. It wouldn’t look natural for her to check their reactions.
When the murmur of conversation started up again and she heard Devlin speaking softly, behind her, she left the boardroom . She badly wanted to find a place where she could be by herself and didn’t have to worry about what her expression might tell someone who was far too good at reading people.
Devlin Woodward. Humanist and Varkan activist? Or the most ambitious man in history?
It seemed impossible that he might be hiding such a massive agenda, except that she had just watched him push his queen out onto the board and check the opposition while everyone was busy watching the warring pawns.
And she might be completely and utterly wrong, over-interpreting a simple offer because she had been infected by Bedivere’s paranoia.
Mehtap Mining Colony, Velorum II, Velorum System. FY 10.187
Kasi clocked off her shift as soon as it was done. There were more patients—there were always more patients. Someone else could look after them, though. She wearily donned her rainshield in the antechamber, looking out through the windows. It was dark. And it was raining. In other words, no change from when she had started this shift, ten hours ago.
She sealed up the shield and strapped on her facemask, adjusted the oxygen flow and hit the outer door controls with a thump of her hand. Then, with a sigh, she stepped out into night, her boots squelching in gray mud that sucked at the soles, trying to pull them off her feet with each step.
There was no greenery here, not even weeds. The acid content of the rain saw to that. So did the endless night. Daylight lasted only three hours of the forty-two-hour rotation. This planet was one of the most miserable locations she’d known.
Her body throbbed painfully as she headed for the dormitory where she dossed. This end of the mining colony was where all the contractors lived and the company hadn’t gotten around to installing rain shields over the narrow streets like they had around the admin sections. The rain made her joints ache and standing on her feet for ten hours straight made
everything
hurt. She was getting old.
She almost laughed at her own joke, then sucked in her laughter in a wheezing gasp. There was a man standing in the middle of the street, watching her. He wore a shield and a mask just like everyone else did here. Even so, she knew him. The eyes…she had seen those eyes before.
She had been expecting someone like him to turn up for years now. Decades.
He was conspicuous among the crowd of hurrying contractors and workers, because he stood quite still in the rain. He was also taller than most men and he stood with his shoulders squared and his back straight. That right there marked him as a stranger to Mehtap, where everyone’s spirit was ground down into the mud sooner or later.
“Kasi Salamanca,” he said, lifting his voice above the sloshing and the patter of the rain on shields.
Kasi opened the shield up enough to fire the mini-rattler. The beam caught him square on the chest, slamming him backward to sprawl in the mud. She didn’t wait to see if he got up again. He was wearing a rainshield and that would have absorbed most of the damage. It would slow him down, though.