Resurgence

Darya glanced past Hans Rebka at the dark-haired man on her left. The Zardalu at the back of the room—Archie, an incongruous name for such a giant beast—must be the one that Louis Nenda had dragged along, trussed and wriggling, when they all escaped from Labyrinth. But who was the strange human?

She decided not to ask. Julian Graves already blamed her for interrupting yesterday’s meeting.

The councilor went on, “Perhaps the composition of this group has allowed some of you to guess why we are assembled here today. But let me be specific.

“We, like everyone else, grew up with the knowledge that there were Builder artifacts scattered around the local arm. The artifacts had been present for millions of years, and we assumed that they would always be there. Some of us devoted a large part of our lives to studying the Builder artifacts and seeking to understand them.”

Darya felt it was safe to nod. She certainly fell into that category.

“However,” Julian Graves continued, “two years ago, an astonishing thing happened. Following the event known as Summertide, in the Dobelle system, the artifacts started to change. I have heard half a dozen proposed explanations as to the cause of those changes, but one fact cannot be denied: one by one, the artifacts vanished. We saw the appearance of a single new artifact, Labyrinth. And shortly after that, Labyrinth disappeared along with every other artifact. All of you were present during that climactic event. Since then, we have seen no signs of an artifact anywhere in our local arm of the galaxy. For the past two years, all has been quiet.”

Perfectly true, and well-known to any five-year-old. So why are we having this meeting? But Darya remained silent.

Graves said, “At least, we assumed that all was quiet. Then, two months ago, a ship carrying a Chism Polypheme arrived at Upside Miranda Port. The Polyphemes are a species rarely seen in our local arm, since their home world is somewhere in the Sag Arm. The Polyphemes are famously reluctant to give accurate information on its whereabouts.”

Louis Nenda, next to Darya, sniffed loudly. “Why don’t you tell it like it is, Councilor? Any Polypheme would rather lie than tell the truth. They’re the most crooked, unreliable, deceitful species in the galaxy. If you believe anything that the one who came here said, you’re a fool.”

“You may be right, although the Chism Polyphemes accord the doubtful honor of maximum duplicity to humans. However, in this case it was not necessary to take the Chism Polypheme’s word for anything, since it could speak not a word. The ship finished the journey on automatic pilot. The Polypheme was dead on arrival.”

Darya felt a spasm of movement on either side of her. Hans Rebka and Louis Nenda were hard to shock, but they were shocked now. So was she. The Sag Arm was thousands of lightyears away. Only a vastly long-lived species, like the Polyphemes, would face the prospect of a Gulf crossing from one spiral arm to the next. As for one dying, she had never heard of such a thing. By human standards, a Chism Polypheme was immortal.

Julian Graves went on, “Normally, the interior of a ship arriving at Miranda Port is considered private property and off-limits. However, in this case there were exceptional circumstances. The port authority felt a need to know what event, be it natural or unnatural, had killed the Polypheme. To ensure that suitable procedures and propriety were observed, they called in a member of the Ethical Council to be present when the ship was entered. Upon an initial investigation she was unable to determine the cause of death. The body appeared quite intact, although a closer examination revealed that almost every cell within it had been ruptured and burst by some unknown agent. Soon afterwards, the councilor called for my assistance. She had, as a move to determine if there might be some danger of contamination, examined the ship’s log. And what she found was almost beyond belief. The Chism Polyphemes, astonishing as it may seem, have perhaps been lying to the species of our spiral arm—and for thousands of years.”

Louis Nenda said, “It’s like I told you—”

“There is therefore no need to tell me again. The ship’s log contained a complete listing of Bose transition points visited. The coordinates of the most recent transition nodes were in the Gulf.”

Darya felt the tingle all the way up her spine. No one in the Fourth Alliance, or in the Cecropia Federation whose boundary lay much closer to the Gulf, knew that those Bose nodes were there. Did it mean . . . ?