Chapter Ten
Speed and efficiency have never been part of the Dreen psyche. Our high technology is concentrated on travel through the Spirals into an ever-changing universe. Ancient, unalterable Dreenor must remain a regenerative nest. The Dreen watchwords, “All things are possible,” must serve us always as a bulwark of conservatism.
—“Mugly the Elder,” a critique
Why didn’t she warn us the shield is going to change our sky?” Mugly complained.
He stared out a window of Jongleur’s home where he had been summoned by the Chief Storyteller. A late-afternoon sun painted rosy edges on puffy white clouds. But moments earlier, a weak test shield idmaged by Habiba had dissolved. During the test, Mugly and Jongleur had stared out at a gray landscape, not quite dusk and definitely unfamiliar.
“She’s testing because childseeds require a particular spectrum of sunlight,” Jongleur said. “There’s some question whether a shield can admit the correct light. Oddly, the light we need is close to what Earthers favor for darkening their skins.”
“That’s called ‘tanning,’” Mugly said.
“I know what it’s called!”
“We could always open flaps in the shield occasionally,” Mugly said.
“And how would we guard such openings?” Jongleur demanded. “Will we make weapons and slaughter intruders?”
“We have a right to defend ourselves,” Mugly insisted.
“The shield is a brilliant idea,” Jongleur said.
“Even if we never again have children, we must protect what we have now!” Mugly insisted.
“And what is it we have now?” Jongleur asked.
Mugly waved his arms to encompass Dreenor. “Everything! What a strange question! Your mind is becoming odd, Jongleur.”
Jongleur had to agree. Only that morning, he had taken his fears to Habiba. “What have we created in that Earth?”
“We?” Habiba had asked.
“Dreens have meddled with Earth since its creation,” Jongleur mourned.
“Meddled? These are strange thoughts, Jongleur.”
And Habiba had taken him on a small tour of her cone to quiet him. It was a strange feeling to walk the colorful floors and realize they were built over an extinct volcano. The porous ground beneath the cone was a spiritual abode, a place of secret chambers and passageways only Habiba traveled. Jongleur knew of them from Habiba’s quiet comments.
“Beneath this precise spot is a fumarole that spirals down very deep, and it is dry for all of that descent.”
Jongleur treasured these tours. The palatial floors and corridors inlaid with jewels brought to Habiba from uncounted planets had always seemed the most permanent thing in the universe.
But this day he was struck by the impermanence of the structure. In a catastrophic attack by Earthers, everything here might be scattered in fragments.
All things are possible. And once there was a volcano here. But now it’s a pumice island whirling in a sea. An eternal sea? Is anything eternal?
Thoughts about eternity came readily at the Sea of All Things but Jongleur now found them disquieting.
Mugly jerked him out of these reflections with a stark question:
“Is it true the erasure ship crashed?”
“The wreckage is on Earth.”
“Wreckage. That’s good.”
“My son was in it. And we do not know the extent of damage. If sensitive components survived …”
Jongleur let that idea hang between them.
“Patricia was designed to self-destruct rather than let aliens learn her secrets,” Mugly said.
“That is a very strange name for a ship, Mugly.”
“It is a common name for Earther women. Men are often called by a similar form, Patrick. A holy man, you know?”
“Did you think of that ship as holy?”
“I did not think of it as anything. My aides built it without my knowledge or consent. Why did you summon me, Jongleur?”
“Habiba commanded me to make certain our secrets are never learned by Earthers. And now I hear you have sent the Eminence Prosik to Earth with orders to retrieve this … this Patricia.”
“My people contributed to the problem; they should solve it.”
“Is Prosik a good choice?”
“The best.”
At least he’s the best for my purposes, Mugly thought.
“I have been trying to think as you would think,” Jongleur said. “And it is a fact that you still want Earth erased. Did you give other orders to Prosik?”
“He was told to act as the situation dictated,” Mugly said. “You must admit, if Earth were erased, that would satisfy Habiba’s command. Earthers would never again threaten us.”
“You left the question of Earth’s erasure up to a … to a mere Eminence?”
“He was a good Storyteller in his day, Jongleur.”
“I’ve heard rumors he’s a bazeel brain!”
“An occasional indulgence, no more. That could be said about many of us.” Mugly looked benignly at Jongleur.
Jongleur spoke quickly: “You have tied my hands! We cannot send ships after this Patricia willy-nilly! Every ship we send is a potential betrayal of our secrets. I am forced to use new operatives and your man, Prosik!”
“I told you he was the best. What do you have in mind?”
“The erasure ship is in the hands of the bothersome Zone Patrol. You must send a Spiral signal to Prosik, telling him this and ordering him to assume Zone Patrol disguise. That’s his only hope of finding the ship and recovering it.”
“Very well. I’ll see to it immediately.”
“And tell him he must not erase Earth!”
“Don’t you think that should be left up to our Dreen on the scene?”
“I do not! This is an extremely complex matter. Your ship did not just crash, Mugly. It collided in the Spirals with a ship built by an Earther named Hanson!”
Mugly was well and truly shocked. “In the Spirals?”
“You see, Mugly? A fine mess you’ve got us into.”
“Erasure of Earth becomes more and more our best option!”
“I forbid it in Habiba’s name! No! Prosik must search out this Earther, Lutt Hanson, Jr., and I want him to look for clues to what has happened to my son.”
“You’d endanger us to satisfy your personal fears?”
“Of course not! I am following a plan suggested by Habiba.”
Mugly sighed. “What is Habiba’s plan?”
“We will abduct Hanson—if he’s still alive—along with anyone in whom he has confided his knowledge of Spiral technology.”
“And how will you know who has shared this knowledge?”
“There will be plans, drawings and descriptions. We will find out who has seen them.”
“Earthers call them ‘blueprints’ and they—”
“I know what Earthers call them! You don’t have to explain everything about Earth to me, Mugly!”
“But you never can be sure you’ve identified everyone who has seen the blueprints. And as for people this Hanson has spoken to in the course of his—”
“It must be done! Anything is preferable to erasure!”
“Anything?”
“Mugly … please. You are the most violent Dreen I have ever encountered. It’s frightening. For Habiba’s sake, rein in your violent nature.”
“I must do what is best for all of us, Jongleur. But I will convey your admonitions to Prosik. He is really quite a peaceable type.”
Except when he’s high on just the right amount of bazeel.
“It gladdens me to hear that, Mugly. Get on with it, then. I must lay plans for the abduction.”