Relic

13

To the best of Ruslan’s knowledge, the Vrizan never learned how not one but two human survivors had been spirited off Daribb. There was a moment of tension when the ship that had been diverted to pick up the Myssari scientific team was queried by one of the Vrizanian automated satellites, but it passed swiftly enough when the orbiting station accepted the explanation that the arriving starship was simply engaging in a routine replenishment of supplies and exchange of personnel.

It was not until he was back on Myssar that Ruslan finally relaxed. Or rather, relaxed as much as Cherpa would permit. From the moment she stepped into the orbital lift, a stream of questions and exclamations spilled from her lips that no volume of responses was able to quench. Striving his best to satisfy her, he achieved only partial success. Between the girl’s boundless curiosity and sometimes convoluted reasoning and Pahksen’s unshakable paranoia, Ruslan had very little time left to himself.

So it was that when Kel’les informed him that Bac’cul and Cor’rin desired his solo presence in the antechamber of his continuously monitored home, he was actually thankful for a few moments away from the two youthful Daribbian survivors.

“We appreciate everything you are doing to please the female and placate the younger male,” Bac’cul assured him. “Your participation in acclimatizing them to wholly Myssari surroundings has been invaluable.”

Ruslan tried not to smirk. “If you mean that I managed to get Pahksen to finally surrender his gun, yeah, I’ll take credit for that.”

He had eventually succeeded in doing so by convincing the suspicious youth that he could retrieve his weapon whenever he wished, simply by making the request. That was not true, of course. Accommodating though they might be, the Myssari had no intention of allowing a member of another species, however irreplaceable, to go wandering about Myssar in possession of a killing weapon. If a citizen were to be injured by the alien apparatus, even accidentally, it could cause untold damage to the ongoing program of human studies. It was enough that Pahksen believed he could have his gun back at any time.

“They appear to be adapting quite well,” Cor’rin added. “What is your current opinion?”

Ruslan considered. “Cherpa doesn’t understand everything she’s being shown or told, but I’m convinced full understanding will come with time. It may matter to you that she adapts to everything immediately, but it doesn’t matter to her. One reason she was able to survive as a lone child on Daribb was that she invented her own private world. She was able to retreat into herself, into her own mind. She still does it on occasion but I can see her resorting to it less and less. The same is as true of human offspring as it is of Myssari: the younger they are, the easier they adapt to new circumstances. I believe she’s doing extremely well and will prove a great help to your research programs for a long time to come.”

“And the older youth, the male?” Cor’rin pressed him.

Ruslan hesitated. “He’s still chary of everything. I can’t go so far as to say that he’s less mistrustful than he was on Daribb, but he’s certainly no worse.”

The three Myssari exchanged a glance.

“That is less than encouraging. I had hoped for better results to pass along to the Sectionary.” Bac’cul was plainly unhappy.

“What else can we do to reassure him?” Kel’les asked. “He refuses a minder.”

“I’ll keep trying to put him at ease.” Ruslan tried to sound optimistic. “The best thing you can do is the same thing you did with me: give him whatever he wants, within reason, and when you have to refuse a request be sure to provide an explanation. The more comfortable he becomes with his surroundings, the more he’ll relax, and the more he relaxes, the more he’ll come to accept his new life here.”

Ruslan found the next exchange of glances bemusing. The Myssari were hesitating about something. He turned to Kel’les, who could not refuse a question from him.

“Am I missing something here? Is there something I’m not being told?”

The intermet started to reply but ended up deferring to Cor’rin. She explained with unusual care.

“We are under pressure from the General Science Sectionary to begin the resurrection of your species. As you will remember, the project was to proceed with or without your consent, via cloning if necessary.” In the absence of an Adam’s apple, it was difficult to tell if she was swallowing nervously. “The acquisition of two young humans of breeding age renders the need to clone not only superfluous but—”

“Just a goddamn minute—if you please,” he added, remembering Myssari civil protocol. “First of all, while Pahksen may or may not be of breeding age, Cherpa certainly is not. Second of all, they don’t happen to much like each other.”

“You will fix that.” Was Bac’cul’s observation a statement of hope, Ruslan wondered, or an order? His tone turned emphatic.

“I can supply information. I can answer questions. I can’t work miracles. Anyway, it’s far too soon to contemplate the two of them engaging in…” He searched for the right words. “…natural reproduction. You don’t even know if either one of them is fertile.”

“The male is.” Cor’rin did not hesitate. “An examination was carried out while he slept.”

Now, that’ll make him less distrustful, a pained Ruslan thought. “I’d keep that particular information from him just now.” He realized he was almost afraid to ask the next question. No, not afraid, he corrected himself. Queasy. “Did you also ‘examine’ Cherpa?”

“We refrained,” Bac’cul told him. Ruslan was unaccountably relieved. His stomach settled. “Bearing in mind not what you have told us so much as information about such matters that we have gleaned from our years of research into human biology.”

Kel’les was no less curious than the more highly trained colleagues. “Are you saying, Ruslan, that mutual dislike makes it physically impossible for them to breed?”

“No,” the human muttered, “I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that now is not the time. It’s far too early to schedule the process.” His gaze switched back and forth between the two scientists. “I know that when Cherpa comes of age, you can remove eggs from her and sperm from Pahksen whether they agree to the respective extractions or not. What I am trying to convey is that it will be of more interest to you and better for the future of human revivification if you allow the process to proceed naturally.”

“And if it does not?” Bac’cul was staring at him evenly.

Ruslan shut his eyes. “Then I can’t stop you from doing what your superiors order you to do. I can object, but I can’t stop it. I know that.” Opening his eyes, he regarded the both of them once more. “There’s a proper way of letting such things eventuate and a wrong way. From a technical standpoint both can produce the end result you wish. I’m just saying it would be better, and more beneficial in the end, to do it the proper way.”

The Myssari triumvirate was silent until Cor’rin spoke up. “We will relay everything you have said to the Sectionary. I believe Yah’thom, at least, will back you up. Whether that will be enough to sway the majority opinion I do not know.” She eyed her coworkers. “There are those who are impatient to commence this.”

“Where science is concerned, impatience can work for good or for bad.” Bac’cul’s comforting words notwithstanding, the male researcher was clearly more ambivalent than his partners. “Every suggestion you have made in the course of our research has proven itself worthwhile. We will hope that this latest of yours meets with the same approval when it is communicated to our superiors. Meanwhile you will of course continue your work with the two young humans in helping them to adapt to their new lives on Myssar.”

As if he had any choice, he thought, despite all the fine words and gifts and promises. But he did not voice his reaction out loud.