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"What do you mean? How?"
"Destroy it! You know: wipe the database clean, make a bonfire of the blueprints or whatever. . . ." My
voice died as I saw the effect my words were having on Khorat.
I had made some progress toward being able to "read" the Ekhemasu in general and Khorat in particular.
But now he was in the grip of an emotion I had never seen before. I can only say that if I'd been looking at a human I would have sworn he was making a physical effort to control his visceral revulsion at a suggestion so indecent as to lie beyond the pale of obscenity. Of course I know that's like translating
German by the if-only-it-were-English system. But whatever it was, it was so different from Khorat's usual persona as to be alarming."Uh, Khorat," I ventured, "I hope I haven't inadvertently given offense."The old Ekhemar gave a final shudder and took a deep breath. "No, I suppose I am not really offended.
You cannot be expected to understand the philosophy which the Medjavar have followed for several
times longer than the entire recorded history of your race. Let me try to explain.
"As you know, we have always sought to influence-and, if possible, control-the dissemination of dangerous knowledge, in order to steer society away from undesirable paths-"
"As defined by yourselves."
The software must have accurately reproduced my tone. Khorat's huge eyes held an unreadable expression. "You've never been altogether comfortable with that, have you?"
"No, not altogether." Something in those eyes compelled honesty. "Maybe it's just that I grew up in a
society which makes something of a fetish of freedom of information." And which takes a dim view of people playing G.o.d, I retained enough tact not to add. "But has the possibility ever occurred to you people that you just might be wrong sometimes about what knowledge is 'dangerous' and which paths are 'undesirable'?"
"As a matter of fact, we are most sensible of our own fallibility. It is for that very reason that we have always observed an inflexible rule: knowledge may be concealed, but it must never be obliterated. We regard ourselves not as the proprietors of knowledge but rather as its custodians, holding it in trust in case later events or discoveries prove us wrong. Thus any mistakes we make need not be permanent in their effects." Khorat paused, as though seeking for words to express something which, for him, required no words. "Whenever any item of knowledge is lost, a potential aspect of the future is foreclosed forever. To do this deliberately would truly be to play G.o.d!"
I blinked in surprise, for without any prompting from me Khorat had come out with a Delkasu phrase the software had translated by that particular English expression. Maybe, I decided, he wasn't as insensitive as I'd supposed to the kind of concerns that had been bothering me.
"So," I asked quietly, "you're prepared to run the risk of leaving . . . whatever this is lying around?"
"If you must put it that way. However, the 'risk' is so small as to be ignorable." Serenely: "Nothing can go wrong."
Why was I even surprised when, the following night, the sanctuary was raided?
* * * By "the following night" I mean the next twenty-four-point-something-hour night of Khemava. For me and for Chloe, it was simply a "day" that, like every fourth one, was dark.
However, by sheer coincidence, it was our "night" as well-the time period we arbitrarily set aside for sleep. So I was dreaming the disturbing dreams that had troubled me since coming to this place, when the first explosion wrenched me brutally out of them.
Drilled-in reflexes took over for me. I rolled out of bed, fumbled out of habit for the gun that wasn't
there, and simultaneously reviewed all my senses.
Sight wasn't much use in the dark, and hearing had already been alerted. Feel reported the impact of the hard floor as I fell on it, and taste was irrelevant. But smell . . .
Gas! shot through my mind.I held my breath, stumbled to my washbasin, grabbed a wad of paper towel, soaked it, and clasped it across the lower part of my face before allowing myself to inhale. Then I switched on the light and stumbled to the connecting door to Chloe's room.
The door opened before I reached it, and Chloe tumbled through.
"Bob!" she gasped. "What's happening? And . . . what's that smell?"
The fact that she was still functioning told me a great deal. I flung away my makeshift gas mask and
drew a breath. The odor was unabated, but I could perceive no physiological effects. It wasn't until later that I learned the raiders were using a chemical agent effective against the Ekhemasu species but not, fortuitously, humans. At the time I merely a.s.sumed some such explanation, and acted accordingly.
"Come on!" I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the door into the corridor, illuminated by dim emergency lights. There the gas was faintly visible and the smell was stronger, but we still felt no ill effects. From the distance came the noise of chaos. I dragged Chloe after me, past the fallen, unconscious form of an Ekhemar. My idea was for us to get outside and sprint into the desert night, where we couldn't be cornered, and worry later about finding our way back.
I was thinking about it when reality wavered in a curious way. Before I had time to realize that I was pa.s.sing through an invisibility field from the outside, I crashed into the short wiry form of a Delkar, losing my grip on Chloe's arm as the alien and I went over in a heap.
He and I grappled clumsily in our private world of blurred shades of gray. He had a paralysis beamer, but it was long-barreled and useless at close quarters. And he obviously knew nothing about human anatomy; he went for my upper chest, where the equivalent of a solar plexus would have been if I'd been
a Delkar. I, on the other hand, had a pretty good theoretical grounding in unarmed combat with his species. I used my superior weight and strength to immobilize him and, working one arm free, used the elbow to shove his oddly shaped head sideways, exposing the neck. Having no hand free, I bit him just below one tiny ear-not to break the skin, but to pinch a certain nerve. He went limp.
Getting to my knees, I took time to notice details. The Delkar wasn't wearing any sort of gas mask; evidently the stuff the raiders were using didn't affect his species either. He did have, attached to a belt around his black coverall, a device I remembered from an alley in Washington. I switched it off. The world, including Chloe, snapped back into focus and full color. She recovered quickly, being familiar with the field, and moved to my side as I fumbled to get the control pad free.
I had just about succeeded when the black-clad figures popped soundlessly into sight around us, their invisibility fields ceasing to exist with the suddenness of p.r.i.c.ked bubbles.
Chloe and I froze into immobility, bracing ourselves for the touch of the paralysis beams.
Instead, to my amazement, one of the Delkasu merely gestured with his weapon, motioning us along the corridor. We felt no inclination to argue.
They herded us around several corners, deeper into the warren of the Sanctuary. They obviously knew where they were going-probably from interactive contact-lens displays, I imagined-but I soon grew bewildered.
Then they hustled us around a final corner, and I suddenly knew where we were. Not that I could have found my way back to our quarters unaided, for I'd only seen the monumental doorway looming ahead of us once, and that only in pa.s.sing. It had been in the course of a quickie tour we'd gotten of the Sanctuary shortly after our arrival. We'd been ushered past it before I could frame a question, with a haste that made pretty clear that it was not a legitimate subject for curiosity.
But now it stood open, and Delkasu forms were moving in and out of it. Standing amid the litter of equipment that, I supposed, had been used to open it, were more Delkasu . . . and, looming among them, three humans.
The leader of our captors approached one of the humans, who turned toward us. Renata Novak's face
wore as little surprise as I felt.
"I told them to be on the lookout for humans," she said without preamble. "I had a feeling you two might have been brought here, after that fiasco on Antyova II."
I was determined to match her coolness. "Who are your friends? The Tosava gevroth again?""Of course. They were as eager as I was-well, almost as eager-to see our mutually beneficial deal come to fruition. Also, while they might possibly have let meddling by the Ekhemasu go unanswered, the involvement of their old enemies of the Osak gevroth made it something they couldn't ignore. So they and I had a mutual interest in a solution."Chloe glanced at the motionless form of an Ekhemar. "Yes," she said coldly, "you certainly seemed to have murdered your way to a solution."
"Don't be ridiculous, Chloe! We haven't murdered anybody. We used a nonlethal nerve agent specific to
Ekhemasu body chemistry, which induces unconsciousness. Your friends will be awakening before too long, with no significant ill effects. The Tosava insisted on it."
"What peachy guys," I observed absently, while I covertly sized up the situation. The Delkasu had
moved on. But the two other humans-male, nondescript, unfamiliar to me-both had paralysis beamers
trained on us, and looked alert.
"They insisted on it," Novak continued, ignoring me, "because they don't want to antagonize the Medjavar any more than necessary. They cherish hopes that this whole business can be just written off as quits between them. For the same reason, they also insisted that there be no unnecessary looting of what is in here." She gestured in the direction of the great doors, through which the last of the Delkasu
had departed, carrying mysterious burdens. Then she gave us a shrewd look. "You don't know what's in here, do you?"
"I didn't . . . but I think I do now," said Chloe. "It's the Medjavar's storehouse of knowledge. Their hall
of records."
I stared at her. As usual, she'd succeeded in surprising me.
Novak nodded. Then, abruptly, she turned on her heel and strode through those doors. After a fractional
second's hesitation, we followed her.
It was hard to believe we were inside a mountain, for this was too vast to be called "cavernous." It stretched away into indefinite distances, under a lofty ceiling upheld by forests of ma.s.sive
columns-rows and rows of them, marching off into the shadows. And everywhere, between those columns, were racks for computer storage media, in various forms from various cultures.
Novak was some distance ahead of us, standing with her hands on her hips and looking around. She
radiated an intensity that somehow allowed her to dominate all this giganticism, which should have
reduced her to a visual zero."G.o.d," she breathed. "I'd love to plunder this place! But for now I have to stay on good terms with Tosava'litan. And she seems to think the Medjavar could be inconvenient people to get seriously mad at you. So we're not allowed to take anything except what we came for."
"About which," said Chloe, "I suppose you still won't tell us."
Novak turned to us, looking surprised. "You mean your Ekhemasu friends haven't confided in you?"
I had a sudden attack of shrewdness. "No. It seems us primitive humans can't handle the knowledge.
You know what they told us? They weren't really worried about you getting it. Being a human, you're too stupid to understand it, much less do anything with it." Strictly speaking, of course, this was what the Tosava gevroth had thought-incorrectly, in the opinion of Khorat and his colleagues. But I pressed on, inventing freely. "They said recovering it on Antyova II was just sort of a routine precaution. They were worried that a crummy human like you might screw up and lose it to somebody else-somebody smart enough to be dangerous."