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They're an abomination. It's to our shame that we ever could have conceived
such a deed, let alone commenced implementing it. We went against our own
nature and let ourselves be corrupted by the Jevlenese."
"They're no more than a precaution now. . . ."
Showm shook her head firmly. "No, Calazar. They represent far more. Their
existence says that we have yielded to the same arrogance of power that we
condemn in the Jevlenese and in the Terrans: the right to impose our will; to
equate superiority of force with superiority of virtue. For us to remain true
to ourselves, they must be destroyed."
Calazar frowned and made an appealing gesture, in the manner of one reluctant
to explain something that should have been obvious. "But you said yourself,
you cannot be certain. The human problem could be impossible to rectify,
something that goes all the way back to their origins. What would you have me
do, Frenua? You, yourself had the strongest misgivings about our decision to
adopt an open policy of making our knowledge available to the Terrans. You
said it would only enable them to make more ghastly and powerful weapons. Are
you saying now that we should leave them with that capability, but take away
our one means of protecting ourselves, should our worst fears prove true?
Would you want such weapons unleashed upon the Galaxy?"
"No, of course not. But what remains is a relationship that at the bottom is
based on suspicion and distrust. What poisons it is uncertainty. If we knew
for a fact that the cause was hopeless, we could avoid the disillusionment
that would be inevitable sooner or later by going ahead with the containment
option now, and at least be consoled in knowing there was no choice.
"But if we knew we were dealing with a sickness that was acquired, we could
commit ourselves positively to a future grounded in optimism which might well
prove to be the most important ingredient for succeeding without need for an
escape option that we have to keep secret, the very existence of which demeans
us. Terrans call it 'burning your boats.' It's a good phrase. It signifies
determination and the commitment to press on, without the choice of being able
to run back again."
"It could also be construed as signifying certifiable recklessness," Calazar
pointed out. "It would be a bit late to decide you'd made the wrong guess when
you've got planets being overrun, looted, despoiled, blown up, and who knows
what else all the way from here to Sol and out to Callantares, wouldn't it?
Your boats are gone, and a volcano just erupted in front of you. What do you
do then?" Calazar threw out his hands. "We can't be certain. So we try to be
prudent. We're giving the humans the benefit of the doubt, and yes, I agree we
owe it to them. But we have insurance if we are wrong. We owe ourselves at
least that much."
"All of which is inarguable on the basis of the premise that you advanced to
support it," Showm conceded. "But the premise is invalid. There is a way in
which we can be certain." She stopped, compelling Calazar to do likewise and
face her directly.
Calazar's features creased into non-comprehension. "How. What way? What are
you talking about?"
"The Multiverse project," Showm said. "What it points to, if it succeeds, is
being able to contact other realms that exist or have existed! And I think it
will succeed. We already know that it's possible to reach the time of ancient
Minerva." Showm looked at Calazar unwaveringly. She had never been as serious
in her life. "What were the Lunarians like before Broghuilio and the Jevlenese
arrived? Supposedly, they were industrious and cooperative, but nobody knows
for sure. Were they, in fact, and was that the beginning of a chain of events
that changed them? Or is it just a fable, and were they already showing traits
that the Jevlenese merely exploited? Your argument presumes that we have to
try and guess as best we can. But maybe we will soon possess the means to know
for certain."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Gregg Caldwell was in trouble on the home front again. His wife, Maeve, said
she had told him two weeks before that Sharon Theakston's wedding would be on
May 15, before he'd arranged his getaway golfing weekend in Pennsylvania. He
was certain he had heard nothing about it. Maeve insisted that he had assured
her he wouldn't forget (again). He had no recollection of any such fact. The
battle lines at breakfast had been unyielding. She'd said that he must have
been in one of these other realities that everyone was talking about. And
suddenly Caldwell grasped what Hunt had been getting at in these reports about
"lensing" and time lines coming together instead of branching apart.
He was still turning it over in his mind when he came out of the elevator at
the top of the Advanced Sciences building after having lunch with some
visiting Brazilians, and ambled back to his office. Mitzi was watering the
plants in the miniature Thurien rock garden that Sandy Holmes had sent back on
behalf of Danchekker. Apparently, Danchekker didn't trust Ms. Mulling to tend
it with the requisite love and care until they returned. "Well, at least they
haven't turned into monsters that run around the building eating people,"
Caldwell commented, inspecting the colorful array of fronds, flowers, and
cactuslike lobes.
"They seem to thrive here. Francis says it's because Earth has more carbon
dioxide. Plant food."
"Thirty years ago they were panicking about it."
"Well, life wouldn't be normal if they weren't panicking us about something. .
. . Oh, and you have a visitor." Mitzi indicated the direction of the inner
office with a nod. Caldwell took a pace, then stopped.
"It isn't that FBI guy, is it?"
"No, nothing like that. It's Chris's cousin Mildred, on a quick trip back. I
took her to lunch. She's got some fascinating stories. I can't wait to see the
book."
Caldwell went on through. Mildred was sitting at the meeting table that formed
a T with his desk, clad in a long, rust-colored dress and reading some papers
in a folder. Her hat, a bag crammed with more folders and what looked like
items of shopping, and an equally laden purse were parked on chairs on either
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