Part 29 (1/2)

Sigmund stepped back. ”It's called the Blind Spot. The name fits, because the mind refuses to see it.”

A place that was no place, a place beyond Pak-and, apparently, human-perception. A place beyond s.p.a.ce, in which speed might have another meaning, and a clue to how the faster-than-light drive worked. The argument was compelling, the prospects momentous, but Thssthfok trembled, too shaken to follow the logic.

Sigmund was still speaking. ”You don't don't want to stare into the Blind Spot, Thssthfok. People who do, sometimes don't find their way out.” want to stare into the Blind Spot, Thssthfok. People who do, sometimes don't find their way out.”

”What happened?' Thssthfok asked again. ”The last I remember, I was ...” He wanted to gesture at the curved wall, behind which the other s.h.i.+p clung. Only all walls here were straight. This was a new room. Smaller.

”You were lucky,” Eric said. ”Kirsten found you, frozen. Lost in the Blind Spot. And you were lucky again she she managed not to lose herself there.” managed not to lose herself there.”

Thssthfok suddenly remembered that other little s.h.i.+p. He remembered boarding, tugging himself through walls. His fingers twitched. The structural modulator was gone from his hand!

”Looking for this?” Sigmund asked. He had the modulator in his gloved hand. ”We'll be keeping it. And since you've never been in this cabin, we should be safe from any more hidden surprises.”

Sigmund and Eric left, and Thssthfok was alone. On Mala, and even on this s.h.i.+p, he had always had tools and technology at his disposal. Bit by bit, one abortive escape after the next, he had lost everything. He felt as helpless, as primitive, as a breeder. Thssthfok looked about the bare cabin. He saw only a bit of food, a vessel of water, and a chamber pot.

The food tray held absolutely no interest for him.

50.

Two tiny minds, scarcely communicating, quavering. A third mind. A fourth.

Hints of emanations of thought, of someone other than these scarcely sentient components. More More, the emergent mind roared into an inchoate inner s.p.a.ce.

Trembling, the four reached out. Another little mind, and another, and another...

Awareness cascaded. Consciousness blossomed. We are Ol't'ro We are Ol't'ro, they remembered. Lesser minds faded into irrelevance.

They sifted the memories of their sixteen lesser components. By their own choice, much time had pa.s.sed since the last meld. Their units had answered every request for help, at a time when the mission needed every skilled hand and tubacle. And what had best served Sigmund also served Ol't'ro: It was far better to plumb the mysteries of the s.h.i.+p-particularly its engine room!-than to monitor Sigmund's and Alice's pondering of obscure human historical puzzles.

In performing repairs, making calibrations, and disconnecting unnecessary equipment, Ol't'ro's units had absorbed many nuances of Don Quixote Don Quixote's design. They would learn more from the myriads of miniature sensors that repair duties had allowed them to hide across the vessel. Meanwhile, they still had much to infer from observations of the Outsider vessel. And they found fascinating the recent discussions about neutronium existing outside of stellar objects.

Everything that could be turned off or fine-tuned had been serviced.

Now, at long last, Ol't'ro had the opportunity to contemplate ...

”IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK,” Jeeves said.

”It's good to have you back,” Sigmund answered, although Eric was off fuming about the a.s.sociated power drain and wondering how, even temporarily, to compensate. ”We relics should stick together.”

”I see that we're much closer to New Terra.”

A veiled complaint about time pa.s.sing as he was powered down? Fair enough if so, Sigmund decided. Had the s.h.i.+p's emergency been, say, an oxygen shortage, he'd not want someone else to decide he would be the one to go into an induced coma. Still, sympathy had no bearing on Sigmund's decision to awaken the AI.

”Jeeves, I'm missing something. I could use your help.” Sigmund stared at the dull, picture-mode-off walls of his cabin. ”It's about Alice.”

”What about her?”

”Brennan went to extraordinary lengths to put Alice where he did. At least I a.s.sume he's the one responsible. Who but a protector could have arranged for her to be found as she was?”

”In deep s.p.a.ce, you mean. Orbiting the neutronium ma.s.s.”

”Right.” Hands behind his head, Sigmund lay on the floor of his cabin. Sleep fields were among the expendable functions disabled to conserve power, but the reduced cabin gravity was almost as comfortable. ”Brennan took extraordinary measures to protect her. Brennan protected Earth by heading for Wunderland.” Jeeves had been disabled through most of Alice's debrief, and that required an explanation. ”Why send Alice away from Earth?”

Jeeves didn't comment.

Sigmund sat up. He saw only one answer, and he didn't much like it. ”Somehow, the void between the stars was safer.”

Jeeves considered. ”Then Brennan was less than confident he could lure away or defeat the Pak.”

Still not explaining special treatment for Alice. ”Why protect Alice more than the billions on Earth?”

”I don't know,” Jeeves said.

They had overlooked something. Sigmund refused to accept that Alice's reappearance here and now would remain a mystery. He opened his pocket comp. ”I'm going to upload every discussion I've had with Alice, and every speculation I've had about her. Then do what you do best, Jeeves. Review everything you know about Brennan. About Alice. About anything. And correlate.”

”All right,” Jeeves said, not sounding hopeful- And Sigmund knew he was projecting his own doubts. He did progressive relaxation of his muscle groups, trying, and failing, to relax. He stared at the featureless walls.

”I have a possible match,” Jeeves finally said. ”Brennan had two children, Jennifer and Estelle. Alice says Roy Truesdale called his great-to-the-fourth grandmother 'Greatly Stelle.' ”

Greatly Stelle. A pa.s.sing mention that Sigmund, never good with names, had forgotten. How many million women named Estelle lived in Sol system at any given time? A trivial coincidence-had Sigmund believed in such things. And he had more than a name match to explain. ”Roy inherited a great deal of money. Enough to purchase the s.h.i.+p he and Alice took Brennan-hunting.”

”Again, so Alice says.”

Great-to-the-fourth grandmother. At two offspring per generation-common enough among the rich on Earth, and conservative elsewhere in Sol system-Stelle would have had two children, four grandchildren... going to thirty-two in Roy's generation. Depending on how many direct descendants had survived Stelle, up to sixty-two heirs. More still, if any bequests went to spouses, friends, or charities. Yet Roy's tiny slice of the estate had bought and equipped a long-range interplanetary s.h.i.+p. ”A very wealthy woman.”

”So it seems, Sigmund.”

In how many ways might a super-intelligent parent secretly influence his child's fortunes? Suppose that Greatly Stelle was, or had been named after, Estelle Brennan. Then everything made sense.

A protector must must protect its bloodline, and Brennan knew Earth wasn't safe. protect its bloodline, and Brennan knew Earth wasn't safe.

”Roy was a descendant of Brennan's,” Sigmund decided. ”The child Alice carries has Brennan's blood. It's the unborn infant Brennan took such care to protect.”

DON QUIXOTE WOULD SOON REACH NEW TERRA, raising anew the possibility of returning the Gw'oth pa.s.sengers to their home. Ol't'ro was determined that that not happen. Opportunities amid the humans were too valuable. And if Ol't'ro could reconnect with Baedeker and those like him, how much more might the Gw'otesht learn? WOULD SOON REACH NEW TERRA, raising anew the possibility of returning the Gw'oth pa.s.sengers to their home. Ol't'ro was determined that that not happen. Opportunities amid the humans were too valuable. And if Ol't'ro could reconnect with Baedeker and those like him, how much more might the Gw'otesht learn?

Reminding Sigmund of their value would be easy; the artistry lay in innocently making their case. It would not do to intimate how much s.h.i.+pboard technology they had mastered since coming aboard. Gw'oth understood wariness-how could they not, borne to an ocean teeming with predators and contested by rival city-states?-but Sigmund embodied suspicion beyond their experience. So they would offer something apart from this s.h.i.+p. Something important to Sigmund. Something, perhaps, about Alice.

With sixteen minds become one, they sorted data relevant to the challenge, reviewed options, modeled the most favorable scenarios, and chose.

Ol't'ro extended a tubacle to a comm terminal. ”Sigmund,” they called. ”We have new thoughts about neutronium and where the Outsider s.h.i.+p found Alice.”