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principles."
Eesyan extended his hands pleadingly. "It's not just a question of
technicalities. You're talking about sending people . . . Thuriens, Terrans,
both; I don't know . . . not just robots. The whole underlying philosophy
changes. They'd need autonomy to be able to adapt to whatever local conditions
they encounter to provide for their own safety, or even survival. So they'd
have to go in some kind of ship. But they wouldn't even be able to move
around. Ships draw on the h-grid for power. There was no h-grid at Minerva
fifty thousand years ago."
Showm seemed to have been expecting it. "You're forgetting one ship that
doesn't need the h-grid," she said. Eesyan looked at her blankly, his mind in
too much of a whirl to make the connection. "The Shapieron. Right now, at
Jevlen. An old Ganymean starship with independent onboard drives, everything
self-contained."
"But even if we did what you say . . . the totality of the Multiverse is so
vast. They would be so few. Could it make any difference that matters?"
"What are you saying, Eesyan?" Showm chided. "That sounds like some kind of
petty profit-and-loss accounting that you would expect from Earth. Do you not
feed a hungry child because you cannot feed all of them? Do you let a sick
person die because there are other sick people in the world that you can't
help? Our very concept of civilization lies the principle of caring,
compassion, and love being extended outward from the primitive family to
embrace a progressively wider community: town and village, then nation,
planet, until today we feel kinship across many worlds. Isn't this the next
step that whatever power brought all this into being is calling us to?
Imagine, a community of universes that were isolated, just as the stars were
once isolated. Where it will lead, or what will one day come out of it, nobody
can say. We will be true pioneers and discoverers again. That is why we have
no choice."
Objections started welling up inside Eesyan again, but then he met Frenua's
eyes. They were bright, inspired, shining with a light that he hadn't seen
anywhere for a long time. He could sense the same intensity of feeling
radiating from Calazar. Something inside Eesyan the scientist was responding
to it. And as it grew and swelled deep down inside his being, the negative
fixations that had gripped him seemed to shrink to dimensions fitting to the
business of a jobbing-shop clerk.
Visions were stirring in his own mind now, of the Ganymeans long ago who had
cast out from the havens of their warm, familiar-sun systems into the daunting
voids between, who had dared to dream of constructions the size of moons and
taming the power of exploding stars. Were the unknowns and the challenges that
they had faced any less than of the prospect that was beckoning now? Could the
things they stood to gain and to learn have been any greater?
"Yes!" he heard himself whisper. It was involuntary not he speaking, but the
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spirit that was motivating him inside; yet even as he the word, he knew that
it was right. Calazar turned away, fidgeting with his hands, seemingly having
difficulty keeping his feelings under control. Showm was on her feet, looking
as if she were fighting back an impulse to throw her arms around Eesyan and
hug him. "Yes!" Eesyan said again, louder this time. "We will do it! Our race
has lived in security and complacency for long enough. It is time for us to
rekindle the flame and know again the adventure of true discovery. You are
right, Frenua. Minerva will live again, and become what it should have
been maybe even in a new reality that we will create! This was surely meant to
be."
PART TWO: Mission to Minerva
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
"Kles! Look! Bears!" Laisha shouted excitedly above the noise of the engine
and the rotors. They were riding with the supply flight that went up to
Ezangen two or three times a month. Klesimur turned his attention away from
the mountains ahead above the pilot's shoulder, crowning the skyline like
white fangs, and looked below where she was pointing. Disturbed by the sound
and seemingly being pursued by the spinwing's shadow, two adult bears were
herding four cubs away from the river bank and up a slope showing streaks of
snow toward the cover of some rocks and fallen trees, probably where their
lair was.
"Brown tundras," Kles confirmed. "You'll see plenty more when we get to the
camp. Don't try getting too near them, even if they do look cute. They can be
nasty. But they stay away from people in groups. So no straying off on your
own up there." He looked up at her. At twelve, only two years younger than
himself, she still had many of what seemed the ways of a child. But her family
had moved to the town when she was at an early age, and she still spent most
of her time there. And she learned fast. Her face was bright and eager, a
little pink in the cabin's heat with her heavy hooded jacket, happy at the
thought of being away and free for a couple of weeks. Kles grinned
reassuringly. "But we'll take good care of you. Haven't I always?"
The crackle of a radio coming to life came from somewhere forward, followed
by, "Ezangen camp calling. You reading, Jud?"
The pilot acknowledged. "Hi, Urg. This is Jud."
"How's it going up there? We may have some weather coming in."
"We're just approaching the bottom end of the lake now. Should be, aw . . .
another ten, fifteen minutes."
"That should get you here ahead of it just fine. Kids okay?"
"Sure. I'll let 'em tell ya." Jud turned and passed back a hand mike on a
stretch cord. "Hey, Kles, wanna say hi to your uncle?"
"Thanks. . . . Hello? Uncle Urgran?"
"Right here, buddy. It's been a while. Everyone's looking forward to seeing
you back around the camp again. We've got some interesting new things to show
you."
"Giants' things?" As was true of many young people, Kles had always had a
particular fascination for the lost race that had lived on Minerva long ago.
There was a scientific name for them that meant "long-headed sapient bipedal
vertebrates," but for most people they were simply the "Giants."
"You bet. More bones three complete skeletons, at least. Parts of some
buildings."
"Fantastic!"
"And pieces of machines . . . but all pretty flaky and corroded. We're not
sure what most of them are."
"Maybe Laisha will know. She's the one who wants to be an engineer, like her
dad. Can she say hi too?"
"Sure."
Kles held the mike toward her and nodded. Laisha took it. "Mr. Fyme?"
"Well, that's nice, but it's generally Urg to everyone around here. So you're
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going to be our guest for a couple of weeks, eh? Know much about archeology?"
"Not a lot, to be honest. As Kles just said, I'm more into science and
technical stuff. But it sounds really interesting, and I can't wait to get
there. Thanks so much for inviting me!"
"Well, I'm warning you, two weeks of the air up here and food the way the
Iskois cook it, and you might not wanna go back. But one thing at a time,
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