From records pieced together in the course of investigating Charlie and the other Lunarian remains uncovered on the Moon, it had been established that the Lunarians knew of the lost race of giant-size bipeds that had inhabited Minerva long before their own time. Lunarian mythology told that this race still existed at a star known as the Giants' Star, which could be identified on the charts. At the time of these discoveries, the scientists of Earth had no way of knowing if the legend was true. But they kept the star's name, and it had persisted since.
Giants' Star, or Gistar, was located approximately twenty light-years from the Solar System in the constellation of Taurus. It was Sun-like in size and composition but somewhat younger, and supported a system of five outer gas giants and five inner terrestrial-type planets, all of them attended by various gaggles of moons, that came uncannily close to duplicating the pattern back home. This was hardly surprising, since ancient Ganymean leaders had searched long and diligently to find a new home for their race that would present as few hazards in the way of unknowns and surprises as possible.
Thurien was the fifth planet out from its star, as Minerva had been, a little smaller than Earth, and cooler, which suited the Ganymean range of adaptation. However, the composition and dynamics of the atmosphere provided a more equalized pattern of heat distribution than Earth's, resulting in polar regions that were smaller than a simple comparison of distances would have indicated, and equatorial summers that were seldom hotter than the equivalent of marginal subtropical to Mediterranean. The surface was roughly seventy percent water, with four major continental land masses distributed, unlike those of Earth, fairly equally across both hemispheres, but with a greater variation in height between the deepest ocean chasms and highest mountain peaks.
The Thuriens had been pursuing their unsuccessful attempt to unravel the mystery of trans-Multiverse movement in terms of their existing h-space physics at a place called Quelsang, close to the city of Thurios, the planet's administrative and governing center. Thurios was where Hunt and his group would be staying, as would most of the other Terrans aboard. It stood near the coast in a setting of lakes connected by gorges and waterfalls on one of the two southern continents, called Galandria. There was none of the complication of docking at a transfer satellite and having to board a surface shuttle as happened when Terran interplanetary craft arrived at Earth. The Ishtar went straight from its approach into a graceful descent that brought it down into the great space port situated by the water just over a hundred miles east of the city. Even Hunt, who had probably had as much dealing with Thuriens as any Terran, was awed by the vast complex of launch and loading installations, with starships the size of ocean liners lined up like suborbitals and freighters on a busy day at O'Hare or JFK.
Thurien architecture delighted in immense, soaring compositions of verticality, adorned with towers and spires, some of the larger cities extending upward for miles. A flying hotel lobby that looked like a flattened blimp from the outside but was burnished gold in color carried the arrivals to the city. Their first sight of it came before they were halfway there. It appeared on the horizon as a slowly growing cluster of whiteness and light, at first belying the distance by the suggestion being of some kind of monolithic structure. But as they drew closer and its true proportions revealed themselves, what had seemed to be facets of a single structure gradually unfolded and resolved into entire precincts of colossal frontages and vistas, terraced skyscrapers, canyons, and cliffs of architecture woven amid festoons of bridges and arcades around towering central massifs in a tapestry that sent the mind reeling. There was as much greenery as glass and sculpted stone filling the progressions of tiers and levels, with lakes connecting via a system of canals, and waterfalls constrained between the faces of buildings, while above, layers of cloud wreathed the topmost pinnacles. It wasn't so much a city, Hunt found himself thinking, as an artificial mountain range.
By the time the ray-shaped blimp brought them to what appeared to be the city's transportation center—or maybe just one of them—Hunt had lost track among the compositions of soaring cityscape that they had passed between and over. They sailed into a vast, hangar-like space high in a stepped block of city vaguely reminiscent of an outsize ziggurat, disappearing below into a tangle of curving traffic ramps and lesser structures. From here, conveyances of every description seemed to come and go, from a web of tubes radiating from the lower levels like an integral circulation system built into the city, to streams of objects following the ubiquitous g-conveyor lines across the spaces above and between, which were as much a part of Thurien city-building as the edifices themselves. It was not always easy to tell what constituted a "vehicle," for pieces of the architecture seemed capable of moving and reattaching elsewhere. On leaving the blimp, the Thurien hosts took Hunt and his group down a couple of levels to a dining area for lunch. When they had finished, they emerged to find that the room had become part of their hotel. A little under thirty-five hours had elapsed by their watches since the Ishtar lifted out from orbit above Earth.
Earlier Terran guests had christened it the Waldorf. Originally provided for the convenience of Jevlenese making short visits to the city, it was designed to human proportions rather than Ganymean. Although it included accommodation, catering, recreational and other facilities, "hotel" didn't really describe it since it wasn't set up as a commercial venture. But it was near enough. The rooms had all the comfort and extras that Hunt had come to expect, including a full Thurien neurocoupler in each. There was also a section of cubicles for public use at the rear of the main entrance level, behind the lobby area. The gymnasium below included a gravitically sustained freefall pool where the water was spherical inside a trampoline-like elastic surrounding wall, and swimming combined with power diving became a whole new experience.
The main socializing focus seemed to be a sunken area of booths and seating alcoves set around a more open floor to one side of the lobby, screened behind planters and partitions and doubling as a bar and coffee shop. The sign in Jevlenese by the entrance gave it as the Broghuilio Lounge in recognition of their esteemed leader, but later Terrans, probably on account of its situation a few steps down from the lobby, had dubbed it the Pit Stop, which the Thuriens obligingly added in English. No arrangement had been made for the Terrans to see the Thurien Mutliverse work until the next morning. The rest of the day was for relaxing and acclimatizing. So after unpacking, freshening up, and settling in, it was to the Pit Stop that Hunt and the rest of the team gravitated, as well as others who had been on the Ishtar. The Thuriens who had been detailed to take care of them were either there already or drifted in later as time went by. It was a strange contrast that Hunt had observed before. Nothing ever seemed hurried or strained in Thurien day-to-day personal life. Yet when they put their minds to something like a construction or scientific project, the speed and efficiency with which they went about things could be astounding.
Preoccupation with rebuilding their culture back on their home world had reduced the numbers of Jevlenese coming to Thurien compared to those seen in times gone by. On the other hand, Terrans in some capacity or other were becoming a regular ingredient of life, so the demand for accommodation at the Waldorf was as brisk as ever. The Ishtar's complement had included a school group from Oregon on their way to summer camp on a world that had real dinosaurs; an Estonian choir that had been commissioned to give a series of performances across Thurien; and some technical support people from Formaflex Inc. of Austin, Texas, who were conducting an experiment on the economic effects of introducing Thurien matter-duplicating technology to Earth—the same outfit that Hunt's alter ego had tipped as an investment, which Hunt had passed on to his neighbor, Jerry. There were also some Jevlenese, but they tended to keep themselves apart, conditioned by tradition and upbringing to see Terrans as their implacable Cerian rivals.
Hunt found himself sitting with Sonnebrandt, Chien, and a Thurien called Othan, who was attached to the project at Quelsang in some kind of technical capacity. Sandy and Duncan had gone sightseeing around the city, Danchekker was away, checking something to do with the arrangements for tomorrow, and Mildred was making sure that the Waldorf staff were briefed on Lynx's foibles, aversions, and preferences.
As was the case with many Thurien materials, the table they were sitting at could be made opaque, transparent, or made to take on various textures. Currently it was glass-topped and functioning as a holo-tank, which Othan had been using to give them a visual tour of Thurios. The image contained in it now, however, was of the Quelsang Institute, where they would be going tomorrow. It was like a miniature version of Thurios, interconnected high-rise structures standing amid parkland and trees, but more curvy and exotically styled. Othan said it was named after a long-deceased Thurien notable. "Institute" was the term that Terran linguists had applied when nothing better really matched the original Thurien word.
"So what kind of a place is it?" Sonnebrandt asked.
"I'm not sure I know enough about Terran organizations to be able to compare it with anything," Othan replied.
"I met an Australian who was there, studying Thurien propulsion," Chien said. "He described it as a mix between advanced-physics research and teaching laboratories, and a philosophical academy."
"Who runs it?" Sonnebrandt asked. Othan looked perplexed.
"The administration sounds a lot less centralized than what we're used to," Chien said. "There doesn't seem to be much in the way of any coordinating policy."
"Different groups use the facilities to pursue their own programs, depending on what interests them," Othan said.
"So how are they coordinated? What unifies them in their approach?" Sonnebrandt persisted. . . . Suppose they have different theoretical foundations. Or even contradictory ones. Would Quelsang be supporting all of it?"
Othan didn't seem to understand the problem. "Well, yes," he agreed. "But how else would we find out which was true?"
"The Australian told me it was like a scientific artists' colony," Chien said.
Hunt couldn't make out whether she approved or not. The kind of tradition she was from would not have accustomed her to see the beneficial side, but from his previous dealings with Thuriens he knew something about how they worked. There was no Thurien Establishment to pronounce the approved consensus on a given subject, or any institutionalized reward system that would encourage conformity to it. Ideas either worked or they didn't; predictions succeeded or failed; evidence said what it said, regardless of anyone's preferences or preconceptions. Without political pressures or fears of losing face—which didn't especially affect Thuriens in any case—individuals left alone to make their own assessments in their own time would eventually come around to playing a part in an act that was going somewhere, rather than be left out in the cold with one that wasn't.
Sonnebrandt seemed to get the picture. "I can't see something like that being made to work back home anytime soon," he remarked, looking at Hunt.
Hunt shook his head. "About as likely as the tribal witch doctor hanging up his mask and starting over as a bottle washer in the village clinic," he replied. "The Thuriens don't have police forces. What does that tell you about something just a little bit fundamentally different in our natures?"
"Ah, excuse me. It is Dr. Victor Hunt, the English?"
Hunt turned to find a pretty girl of about fourteen or fifteen standing by his chair, dressed in a sailor-suit school uniform. She looked Japanese and was holding a red, cloth-bound book and a pen. Hunt grinned. "None other. Who are you?"
"My name is Ko."
"Hi, Ko. What can I do for you?"
"Sorry for intrusion. But I collect many famous autographs. I would be honored if I could add also the great scientist."
"A pleasure. The honor is mine." He took the book, and while the others looked on, smiling, wrote,
To Ko, who came a long way from home. I hope you didn't follow me here just for this.
Victor Hunt
Thurios, Planet Thurien
In the system of the Giant's Star
October, 2033
Ko looked uncertainly at Othan. "Could have Thurien, too?" she inquired a shade timidly.
VISAR came in on the circuit—it had to be involved for her to talk to the Thurien. "You can speak Japanese, Ko. I'll take care of it."
It took Ko a moment to realize what was happening. Then she handed Othan the book. "I already have Bressin Nylek's," she said as Othan penned something in heavy Thurien Gothic-like script. "He's an officer on the Ishtar. That was the ship we came here in. I have the captain's, too."
"Very enterprising," Sonnebrandt commented.
Not wanting to leave anyone out, Ko passed her book to him and Chien in an unspoken invitation when Othan had finished. "I was hoping to find Professor Danchekker," Ko said, looking around while they complied. "The scientist who went to Ganymede, too."
"He's away right now, but—" Hunt started to say, and then caught sight of Danchekker coming down the steps from the lobby area and looking around. "No, wait. You're in luck. Here he is now." Hunt caught Danchekker's attention with a wave, and Danchekker came over. "Your fame knows no bounds, Chris. This is Ko, who collects autographs. She wants your moniker."
"What? . . . Oh. Yes, of course. . . . My word, you have been busy, young lady." Danchekker sustained a smile while he added his inscription. Ko trotted away happily.
"How goes life in the rest of the universe?" Hunt asked as Danchekker pulled up a chair to join them.
"Cousin Mildred has been drilling the unfortunates who work here on the art of living with her blasted cat. Luckily, they are mostly Jevlenese. Many Thuriens are uncomfortable around carnivores. For a while there was pandemonium. She thought they'd lost it."
"The missing Lynx?" Hunt threw in.
Danchekker groaned under his breath and tried to ignore it. "Everything is arranged for Quelsang tomorrow."
"Did you find out if Porthik will be here?" Hunt asked. Porthik Eesyan was the scientific adviser from Thurios that they knew from the Jevlen expedition. He had been playing a leading part in the Multiverse work.
"Yes, he will. He has some news that he wants to give you personally, Vic. The ideas you forwarded were right on. The Thuriens have been looking into them intently. It seems they were a lot closer to success than they thought. In fact, it appears that they have actually been sending things into other universes and not realizing it!"