The Mote In God's Eye

"I hadn't forgotten it," Ben Fowler said. "OK, let's discuss it. Sally, your notion's silly. You know what happened, they moved the asteroids around so long ago the pits are cold. Then, about the time of the CoDominium, they blasted themselves into a new Stone Age. Doesn't argue too strong they've learned not to fight, does it?"

"We did the same thing then," Sally said. "Or would have, if we'd been trapped in a single system,"

"Yeah," Fowler answered. "And if I was a Commissioner for a Motie Empire, I wouldn't let humans wander around space without a keeper. Anything else?"

"Yes, sir," Rod told him. "Sally, I don't like this, but-"

"Get on with it," Fowler growled.

"Yes, sir." Am I losing her because of Moties? But I can't just forget it. "Dr. Horvath, you seemed very uncomfortable after we agreed that the Modes have been civilized for millennia. Why?"

"Well-no reason, actually-except-well, I need to do more checking, that's all."

"As Science Minister, you're responsible for technological forecasts, aren't you?" Rod asked.

"Yes," Horvath admitted unhappily.

"Where do we stand with respect to the First Empire?"

"We haven't caught up with them yet. We'll get there in another century."

"And where would we be if there hadn't been the Secession Wars? If the old Empire'd been going along without interruption?"

Horvath shrugged. "You're probably right, my lord. Yes. It bothered me also. Senator, what Blaine implies is that the Moties aren't advanced enough to have had civilization for a million years. Or even ten thousand. Possibly not for a thousand."

"Yet we know they moved those asteroids at least ten thousand years ago," Renner exclaimed. His voice showed excitement and wonder. "They must have recolonized the Mote about the same time the Aiderson Drive was developed on Earth! The Moties aren't really much older than we are!"

"There's another explanation," Father Hardy pointed out. "They recolonized much earlier than that-and they have a new set of wars every millennium."

"Or even mote often," Senator Fowler added softly. "And if that's the case, we know how they control their population, don't we? Well, Dr. Horvath? What's your advice now?"

"I-I don't know," the Science Minister stammered unhappily. He picked at his nails, realized he was doing it, and laid his hands on the table where they wandered like small wounded animals. "I think we have to be sure."

"So do I," the Senator told him. "But it wouldn't hurt to

-Rod, tomorrow you'll work with the Admiralty."

"I remind you, Senator, that the Church will forbid any member to take part in the extermination of the Moties," Hardy said carefully.

"That's pretty close to treason, Father."

"Perhaps. It's also true."

"Anyway, it wasn't what I had in mind. Maybe we have to take the Moties into the Empire. Whether they like it or not. Maybe they'll submit without a fight if we go in there with a big enough fleet."

"And if they don't?" Hardy asked.

Senator Fowler didn't answer.

Rod looked at Sally, then around the table, finally at the paneled walls.

It's such an ordinary room, he thought. There's nothing special about the people in it either. And right here, in this stupid little conference room on a barely habitable planet, we've got to decide the fate of a race that may be a million years older than we are.

The Moties aren't going to surrender. If they're what we think, they are, they won't be beaten either. But there's only the one planet and some asteroids. If they're gone...

"Kelley, you can bring the Modes in now," Senator Fowler said.

The last of New Cal's dying rays fell into the room. The Palace grounds outside turned purple in shadow.

53 The Djinn

They were following their escorts through the Palace corridors. As they walked, Jock spoke to the Ambassador,

"Something has changed. This Marine who summoned us looks at us differently, as might a Warrior at another Warrior."

They entered the conference room. A sea of human faces. "Yes," Jock said. "Much is different. We insist be on guard."

"What may they know?" Ivan demanded.

Jock indicated lack of knowledge. "Some fear us. Others pity us. All try to hide their changed emotional state."

The Marine conducted them to badly designed couches at one end of a large conference table. "Humans are addicted to these tables," Charlie twittered. "Sometimes the shape of them is very important, for reasons I have been unable to know."

There were the meaningless greetings the humans called "formalities": insincere inquiries into the state of health, nebulous benedictions and hopes for past well-being; all compensations for the lack of human Mediators. Charlie attended to these as lock continued to speak to the Master.