Divergence

CHAPTER 28

“I must reiterate to you the great importance of this matter.” The speaker paused, and his eyes glared out of the screen. “And although it pains me to add this, I must remind you of your failure to honor your commitment and promises.”

Darya Lang wriggled in her wicker chair and stared at Professor Merada’s recorded image with a mixture of disbelief and irritation. The video signal had been sent skipping across the Bose Communications Network, bearing its MOST URGENT — IMMEDIATE ACTION insignia and her full name and title. Within minutes of her final descent from Midway Station and her arrival at the surface of Opal, the video in her room had been flashing for attention.

“Forty standard days,” the speaker went on. “The fifth edition of the Universal Artifact Catalog is due for final compilation in just forty standard days! It cannot be completed without your assistance. As you well know, I told you of my great concern and worry when you announced your intention to travel to the Phemus Circle and observe the event you described as Summertide. If my cautionary words at the time were less strong than they should have been, it was only that I had your reassurance and personal promise that the journey would not affect your schedule for delivery of materials. It is imperative that the Catalog appear on time.” The full mouth pursed in disapproval. “And if your material does not reach me in twenty days, at the very latest, it will be too late. The consequences of that will be most severe. I intend to—”

Darya turned off the sound.

Hans Rebka had entered the room as the words personal promise were spoken. He was carrying a sheaf of messages. He shook his head, sighed, and dropped into a chair at Darya’s side.

“Half an hour we’ve been back on Opal,” he said, “and look at these. Dozens of ’em. From Shipping Control: ‘Please explain the failure of the Zardalu Communion ship, the Have-It-All, to file a flight plan before leaving the Dobelle system.’ From Port Authority: ‘Define current location and status of the freighter Incomparable.’ From Transient Control and Emigration: ‘Provide the present location of the Cecropian, Atvar H’sial’ — hell, I just wish I could provide that.”

Darya gestured at the screen in front of her. “I have the same sort of problem. Look at him! What are you gong to do?”

“Dump the lot on poor old Birdie. You know the worst thing about all this? Everything has changed, yet I’m supposed to take all this bureaucratic nonsense seriously.”

“No, it hasn’t.” Darya pointed at the screen again, where Professor Merada was still in full spate and shaking his finger out at her. “Hasn’t changed, I mean. Three months ago, that message would have had me weeping. I’d have been totally appalled at the idea that I was missing a publication date. Now?” She shrugged. “So I miss a deadline by a couple of weeks. I’ll get the work done, and we’ll still publish on time. You see things differently after you’ve traveled sixty thousand light-years and had a fight with the Zardalu. Everything hasn’t changed, Hans. Everything else is just the same — we’ve changed.”

“Well, everything will change, unless people start taking us more seriously.” Rebka slapped the sheaf of papers onto the low table in front of him. “Julius Graves sent a message straight to the Alliance Council from Midway Station, telling what happened to us and warning about the Zardalu. He just received a reply. Know what they did? Ordered him back to Miranda, for psychological examination. And he’s a councilor!”

“Is he going?”

“He is. He has to. But he’s madder than hell. He’s taking Tally’s brain to be reembodied, and I’m going with them. Between the three of us, maybe the Alliance will start to believe what we say.”

“The four of us. I know.” Darya held up her hand. “I told you I had to get back to Sentinel Gate and catch up on my work. But I’m going with you anyway. All that” — she jerked her thumb at the irate face of Professor Merada — “is like a shadow world. Studying the Builders was all right, when there was no alternative. But we’ve been beyond the shadows. The-One-Who-Waits and Speaker-Between are real. The Builders are real. The Zardalu are real. We have to make other people believe that. And then I have to go back to Glister — and try again.”

“Try again, and bring some proof. When you go to Glister, I go, too. The whole spiral arm has to know what we know.” Rebka shook his head in frustration. “All that effort, and we came back completely empty-handed. No Builder technology, no proof that we went anywhere, nothing but our word about the Zardalu — even the tip of one tentacle would have made all the difference. We went farther than anyone has ever been, and we came back with nothing.”

“That’s not true.” Darya stood up, moved behind him, and started to massage the tight muscles of his shoulders. “We came out of it with us. You and me.”

Rebka sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You’re right. We’re here. That’s the only good piece. You know, I remember looking across at you when the Zardalu came along the tunnel leading to the vortex, and thinking that it was probably the last sight of Darya I’d ever have. I didn’t like that idea at all. And thank God it wasn’t true. We were unbelievably lucky, all of us.”

“Most of us” Darya said quietly. “Not everyone.”

The mood changed. They both went silent.

It was dusk on Opal, and the clouds had briefly opened. Without speaking, the two of them turned in unison to look up. They knew the direction. Out that way, thirty thousand light-years distant, floated the invisible enormity of Serenity. And somewhere within that great structure, lonelier and farther from home than any human or Cecropian had ever been, Louis Nenda and Atvar H’sial were locked in a final life-and-death struggle. No matter what happened, the logic of the Builders decreed that only one of them would win.

I can’t help hoping that the one is Louis, Darya said to herself. And I know that Hans would be outraged if he ever found out I feel this way, but I pray that someday Louis will find a way to return.

Do you hear me, Louis Nenda? She stared upward, projecting her thought beyond the stars, beyond the galaxy. Listen now. Come back. Come back safe.

She felt it so strongly — surely he would read her emotions. Unless… The idea crept in like a wave of cold: unless Louis was dead already.

But that suggestion was… intolerable.

Darya brought her eyes down to the screen, to lose herself in the comforting warmth of Professor Merada’s indignation.