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“How did you know what I was looking for? And how did you know where I was?”

  “The latter question is easily answered. The Pride of Orion’s central data bank contains a complete occupation directory for every chamber at all times.”

  “So you know where the survival team is housed?” For whatever reason, Julian Graves had kept his team of survival specialists in seclusion.

  “Of course.”

  “Do you know how many of them there are?”

  “There are five, all of human form. None, alas, appears to be an embodied computer. As to what you were seeking as you scanned the sky, I assume that it is what all others seem to be seeking: a first look at the Marglot system.”

  “Are we close enough for that?”

  “No. Nor will we be, until the final Bose transition is accomplished. However, logic is not at work here. Every being on board, in spite of known facts, stares impatiently at the screens. It is curious, but even I, who according to my designers lack circuits for the emotion known as excitement, feel a sense of impending fulfillment.”

  “But you’re not staring at screens.”

  “No. Logic still plays a significant part in my actions. Our final Bose transition to the vicinity of what we hope will be the Marglot system lies an hour in the future, and I have calculated that the whole system subtends less than a second of arc from our present distance. It is therefore invisible to the naked eye. I sought you out in order to ask for your assistance on something else, something for which the data banks provide no guidance.”

  “Then it’s not likely that I can help.”

  “Councilor Graves suggests otherwise. The subject calls for opinion, rather than fact. May I speak?”

  Had Julian Graves sent Tally to her just to get rid of the embodied computer, with his endless what-why-how? Darya gave up on screen-watching. The chances of finding evidence of Builder presence in the first five minutes in the Sag Arm was as low as that of seeing the Marglot system itself. She resigned herself to an E.C. Tally lecture. “What’s your problem?”

  “The nature of the Builders.”

  “You’re out of luck. Nobody knows that.”

  “My question is specific, and concerns the generality of their distribution. Were you present during the dissection of the Marglotta corpses?”

  “No, I was not.” And Ugh! as well. From what Darya had heard and the pictures she had seen, the bodies had been shrunken mummies by the time they were discovered in their sealed chamber on the Polypheme’s ship. She wondered just when they had died.

  “Nor, regrettably, was I present. However, I understand that the Marglotta are very different in external body structure and internal organs from any creatures in our local arm.”

  “That’s not surprising, E.C. The Sag Arm is so far away, you’d expect the development of life to have occurred there independently. Their beings should look and act utterly differently.”

  “So Councilor Graves suggested. Yet tests of the Marglotta living quarters on the Polypheme ship suggest that they were not segregated because they breathed different air from the Polypheme. In fact, they could have breathed the same air with no difficulty. And the Chism Polyphemes—who also developed in the Sag Arm—can breathe the same air as humans and Cecropians. Analysis of material in the Marglotta digestive tracts shows that they were also able to eat the same kinds of food as humans. Now, you are of course familiar with the ancient theory of panspermia?”

  Darya groaned mentally. One problem in dealing with E. Crimson Tally was the embodied computer’s built-in urge to acquire as much information as possible—no matter how old, no matter how useless. She shook her head.

  “Really? Then I will explain.” E.C. Tally casually fitted a neural cable from the room’s terminal to the socket on his chest, and went on without missing a beat. “Panspermia posits that life on many worlds was seeded there from outside. This leads at once to a question: Could such seeding take place not merely among the neighboring stars of a galactic arm, but clear across the Gulf?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “But I do. I performed the necessary calculation of Gulf crossing-time for spores of living matter when propelled by light pressure. I made plausible assumptions as to the mass/area ratio of such spores. And the result I obtained was a survival probability so close to zero that it can for all practical purposes be ignored.”

  “And?”

  “I decided that interstellar seeding can indeed take place, but not across so great a span as the Gulf. From which one would conclude that any living beings who inhabit the Sagittarius Arm must have arisen as and be descended from independent life. And yet we can breathe the same kind of air as the Marglotta and Polyphemes.”

  “That’s because of the Principle of Convergence.” It was rare for Darya to find simple facts of which Tally remained ignorant. “We have good theoretical grounds for expecting all worlds within the habitable zone of a star eventually to tend to develop one of just two kinds of atmosphere. Either they remain hydrogen-rich, or photosynthetic forms develop and they become oxygen-nitrogen rich. Taskar Lucindar proved that principle using very general arguments, more than three thousand years ago.”

  “Indeed she did. She also pointed out that the Principle of Convergence applied to biospheres as a whole, but not to the living forms that might inhabit them. To explain observed similarities in edible materials, Taskar Lucindar invoked the principle of panspermia; which, as I have proved to my own satisfaction, cannot operate across any empty space as wide as the Gulf.”

  Go away, Tally. You make my head ache. What was the old comment about the ancient who knew everything? “He not only overflowed with learning, but stood in the slop.”

  Darya said mildly, “So what’s your question, E.C.?”

  “Why, it is as I said: the Builders. They occupied our spiral arm long ago, and they filled it with their artifacts. Did they also occupy the Sag Arm, and perhaps the whole galaxy? Were they, rather than panspermia, the instrument by which life forms with similar metabolic requirements were able to appear on both sides of the Gulf?”

  E.C. Tally now had Darya’s full attention. For years it had been her conviction that the Builders would not have confined their presence to a single galactic arm. Her unplanned and uncontrolled trip to Serenity, the huge Builder artifact thirty thousand lightyears out of the plane of the galaxy, had supported her belief, although Professor Merada and others at the Artifact Research Institute on Sentinel Gate still regarded the story of that journey as a pure flight of fancy. Proving that the Builders had been active in the Sag Arm (and beyond) required access to that arm—which had until now been impossible. True, there were the wild tales told by the Chism Polyphemes. But Darya, like Hans Rebka, lacked faith in Polypheme pronouncements on that or any other subject.

  She said, “If the Builders were active all over the galaxy, that explains a lot of things.” She added, “Kallik and Atvar H’sial can tell you—” Then she paused.

  She had been going to say that the Hymenopt and the Cecropian probably knew as much about the Builders as she did. Unfortunately, Kallik and Atvar H’sial were aboard the Have-It-All, along with Nenda, J’merlia, and the hulking Zardalu, Archimedes.

  She glanced up to the display. The flashing beacon of the other ship was pulsing at a higher rate.

  “E.C., that’s a Bose entry signal. They’re about to make another transition.”

  “That is correct. Another, and the final one.”

  “So soon?”

  “As I said, this last stage of the journey is short and simple. Unless they return a warning drone after Bose node entry, our own transition is only a few minutes away. However, as to my earlier question, and our discussion of it—”

  “Not now, Tally. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk.”

  Unlike E.C., Darya definitely did have circuits for emotion. At the moment they were close to shorting out with overload. So many elements were converging. Louis Nenda was about to take a leap into unknown dan
gers—she found it hard to forgive herself for refusing his simple request for a meal together; mixed with worry for Louis came the excitement of encountering a new stellar system that sounded like nothing anyone had ever seen; and finally, most powerful of all, there was the promise of renewed Builder interaction. That hit her like strong wine after a two-year drought.

  Darya watched and waited until the beacon of the Have-It-All vanished, then watched and waited again through the long minutes preceding their own Bose transition.

  The moment came at last. The universe blinked. Darya sighed, leaned forward, and opened her eyes wide.

  And saw nothing. She felt bewildered. The records left by the Chism Polypheme and the dead Marglotta should have brought the Pride of Orion to a system where the central primary was a greenish-yellow star alive with hydrogen prominences. Before her eyes lay nothing but darkness, lit by the wan gleam of far-off stars and galaxies.

  At her side, E.C. Tally was not limited to wavelengths visible to humans. The embodied computer was in direct contact with all the sensors of the Pride of Orion, which had completed a first full-sky survey within milliseconds of transition. Darya heard Tally’s exclamation of surprise.

  “What is it, E.C.?”

  “One star, but many planets—more than forty of them.”

  “Where? I can’t see a single one.”

  “Nor can I, even with the superior eyes of my body. But the Pride of Orion reports the presence of a central star less than two hundred million kilometers away from us, orbited by a large train of planets.”

  “Then why don’t we see them?”

  “Because they are all, even the central star, at low temperatures. The Pride of Orion employs bolometers, able to detect and measure the radiation from objects only a few degrees above absolute zero. This is ridiculous!”

  “What is?” Darya had heard—or imagined—excitement in Tally’s voice.

  “Why, the readings. The star and most of the planets are cold, no more than a couple of hundred degrees absolute. But one of those planets—a big one, in a close-in orbit—is at only 1.2 kelvins. That is lower than the temperature of the universe’s microwave background radiation.”

  “Isn’t that physically impossible?”

  “According to the accepted theories of human and Cecropian scientists, it is. But perhaps the scientists of the Sag Arm employ different theories.”

  Darya hardly heard E.C. Tally’s reply. A more disturbing thought had come into her head. Where was the beacon? Where was the flashing sign assuring them of the safe arrival of the others? Where was Louis Nenda?

  Darya called for a new full-sky survey, centered on the frequencies of the signal beacon. She concentrated totally on the monitors as the results came in, ignoring E.C. Tally who was still babbling on at her side.

  Nothing, nothing, nothing. The Have-It-All, along with all its crew, had vanished without a trace.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The wrong place

  Louis Nenda wished to travel separately from the Pride of Orion for a very specific reason. Julian Graves, as you might expect of a numb-nuts Ethical Council member, was a hopeless pacifist who did not believe in the use of weapons. Maybe it hadn’t been Graves’s idea to add a “survival team” to the party, but it was unlikely that he had fought against it. Arabella Lund—whoever she might be—had trained them, and she was one of Graves’s buddies. So he trusted her and them. Nenda, on the other hand, trusted nobody but himself, and he had made too many blind and desperate leaps through Bose nodes to leave to chance whatever might lie on the other side.

  Long before the Have-It-All made the final Bose transition, the ship had every weapons port open and every weapon primed. All warning sensors were on full alert. The ship was ready to fire on command, to make another Bose jump, or to run a high-speed route for whatever cover might exist. Nenda had also silenced any device that might signal their presence to an unfriendly listener. If anyone’s signal beacon served as a homing signal for enemy fire, it would not be Louis Nenda’s. What those morons on the Pride of Orion chose to do was up to them.

  The Have-It-All emerged from the node and floated free in space, its drives turned off. Nenda took one look at the warning displays and released a long-held breath.

  “Nothing. Not one blessed thing.”

  He meant that he saw no signs of anything dangerous, but Atvar H’sial, at his side, was receiving the input of other sensors tuned to her own echolocation vision. Her pheromonal output murmured, “Less than nothing.” When Nenda turned to stare, she became more specific. “We are supposed to find here the home world of the Marglotta, are we not? It is the presumed source of much strangeness and who-knows-what wonders of alien technology, priceless when returned to the Orion Arm. Tell me, then. Where are these treasures?”

  Nenda turned on the raft of displays not dedicated to warnings. The Have-It-All should have emerged close to the Marglotta home star, somewhere within a complex stellar system. All that showed on his screen was a central disk of darkness against a faint background of distant stars.

  He scanned the other monitors. “Nothing at any wavelength. What gives? Has the Marglotta star been turned into a black hole? And where are the planets?”

  The pheromonal reply from Atvar H’sial was tinged with uneasiness. “There are planets, in abundance. But all are cold. Too cold for liquid water, too cold for a breathable atmosphere.”

  “No air, no water. So there’s no life. Unless the Marglotta don’t need any of that?”

  “But they do, Louis. Remember, they were air breathers just as we are air breathers. They could not survive on any of the worlds we see.”

  “Master Nenda, if I may with respect add to this discussion.” Kallik, crouched at Nenda’s side, had access to the same displays and was following Nenda’s spoken version of the conversation with Atvar H’sial. “The main body that you see on the screen cannot be a black hole. Our mass detectors indicate that it contains as much matter as a large star, and this is confirmed by the periods of revolution of the planets. However, a black hole of such a mass would have a diameter of only a few kilometers. What we observe is a dense object several tens of thousands of kilometers in diameter, at just a couple of hundred degrees above absolute zero.”

  “The size of a large planet, but as heavy as a star. A white dwarf?”

  “Except that it gives off no energy. I wonder.” The Hymenopt hesitated.

  “Spit it out, Kallik. No time to get coy with me.”

  “The body that we see does not lie at the end of any natural stellar evolutionary sequence known in our own spiral arm. It appears to be solid matter in a cold, crystallized form. Could it be that the laws of physics are different in the Sag Arm?”

  “That is at best a remote possibility.” Atvar H’sial had been receiving pheromonal translation through Nenda, and her response revealed her chemical scorn at such an idea. “The laws of physics are the same throughout the universe.”

  “Maybe. But either way we got us a mystery.”

  “I think not. Louis, there is one other possible answer. Ask Kallik if she believes that the star arrived in its present state through natural processes.”

  As soon as she received the question, Kallik shook her round head. “I can see no way for natural processes to achieve such a result.”

  “Very good.” Atvar H’sial nodded as Nenda gave her that reply, and went on, “Tell Kallik, then it must have reached its present state through unnatural processes. The star has been drained of its energy, by some external agent.”

  “I concur. And the same is true for the big planet.” Kallik gestured to the bank of monitors. “Observe. It is supernaturally cold. Nothing in this whole system is warm enough to radiate significant amounts of energy.”

  “Not quite nothing. Not any more.” Nenda pointed to one of the monitors, where the signal beacon of another ship suddenly flashed bright against the dark span of the Gulf. “Look at those dummies. They’re certainly radiating energy. They c
ome through the Bose node into possible danger, an’ they’re all lit up for the holidays. I’ll bet you Hans Rebka is foaming at the mouth, but he don’t have final say on the Pride of Orion. Lucky for them there’s nothing sittin’ here waitin’ to wipe ’em out.”

  “Nothing now.” The chill in Atvar H’sial’s words was that of the frozen stellar system to which they had come. “But at some time, Louis, the fusion processes of that star were halted and it was depleted of its energy. Something has been at work here on a scale that I find hard to imagine.”

  “The Builders?”

  “They are certainly capable of it. Yet this does not fit with my perceptions of Builder activities.”

  “Kallik? Do you think the Builders might have done this? Atvar H’sial says no.”

  “With respect, Master Nenda, I must agree with Atvar H’sial. This does not have the feel of a Builder artifact.”

  “So where do we go from here? At, do you think we’re safe in this system?”

  “I believe that we are safe for the moment. The continued existence of the Pride of Orion supports that idea. Its crew must be as puzzled as we are, since this is clearly not the system of the Marglotta.”

  “We should have known that all along. We told ’em that no Polypheme ever tells the truth unless it has to.”

  “Congratulations to us on our own perspicacity. However, self-praise does us little good. This is not the place where we thought to arrive. I repeat, it is not the system of the Marglotta.”

  “Damn right. It’s colder than a witch’s cul-de-sac.”

  “And I am at a loss to suggest what we should do next.”

  “Ten heads might be better than five. Let’s go an’ see if Graves and his bunch have any bright ideas.”

  “In order to do that, Louis, we must either travel or send signals to them.”

  “Then that’s what I guess we gotta do.”

  “Either signals or motion will reveal our existence and our position.”

  “But according to you, At, for the moment we don’t need to worry too much about that.” Nenda turned on the Have-It-All’s signal beacon. “There. Now everybody knows we’re here.” He activated the intercom to the pilot’s cabin. “Hit them buttons, J’merlia, an’ take us to rendezvous. It’s time to compare notes. Let’s give the others a chance to show off how smart they are.”