“But you think it has a purpose?” Vicki said to Sariena, before Keene could pick up on the political aspect again.
Sariena’s expression became distant, highlighted by the glow from the turning pattern of stars outside. “I believe so. It all seems too directed to be otherwise: stars manufacturing elements, fine-tuned to eject them at the end of the production run; planets as assembly stations for complex organisms programmed to evolve toward the expression of consciousness; consciousness, the instrument for accumulating experiences. And if we accept whatever our role happens to be as contributing a stone to the cathedral of eventually bringing the universe to life, then maybe yes, I suppose you could say that Kronians have their religion.”
All very fine idealistic stuff; but it caused Keene’s misgivings to return. He just couldn’t see these people negotiating effectively, Earth-style with hostilely disposed Terrans. The very concept of starting with maximum demands in return for the minimum they thought they could get away with would be alien to them. Instead, they would offer the best they could afford and expect reciprocation. It was by willingness to give, not the power to take, that they valued each other.
“Is Gallian a visionary like that too?” he asked Sariena. “You know, the people that you’re going to be dealing with when you go back down there aren’t going to be exactly falling over themselves to find reasons for diverting resources out to Saturn. They’ve got too many other concerns that are closer to home. I’d just like to be sure that Gallian is mindful of things like that.”
“You sound as if you might be trying to warn me of something,” Sariena said.
“It’s just . . . What I’m trying to say is, attitudes here won’t be the way you’re used to. Hiding one’s hand is considered a mark of shrewdness on Earth. You can’t take everything you’re told at face value.”
“We have studied Terran history and ways,” Sariena said.
“And that’s good,” Keene agreed. “But I’m not sure it can be the same as living them.”
Sariena gave him a long, thoughtful look, as if she were weighing up something. Then she said, “There is something more, that we haven’t made public yet or brought up with your people so far—but nobody has specifically forbidden us from talking about it. We didn’t come here expecting to outdo Terrans at Terran political games. Our objective is a scientific one: to gain acceptance for our beliefs on the basis of the evidence, not through debating tricks.”
Keene smiled, but with an effort not to appear condescending. “That’s a nice sentiment. Maybe you manage to keep science and politics in separate compartments out at Saturn, somehow. But life here is more messy. They have this tendency to get mixed up.”
“We’re aware of that,” Sariena said. “And that was why we chose to bring our case formally to Earth now, when we did. It wasn’t just to take advantage of the Athena event—although that was certainly timely. It was to present what we think is our strongest item of proof.”
Keene frowned. This was an unexpected turn. “Proof? . . . You mean about Venus being the comet of the Exodus?”
Sariena shook her head. “Much more radical than that. I’m talking about the stability of the entire Solar System, not just a single event in Earth’s history. We’ve believed for a long time that the planets had different configurations in previous ages. Now we’re certain of it.” She shifted her eyes to look at Vicki, who was waiting just as intently. “Let’s go back. I’ll show you what I mean.”
Keene and Vicki followed Sariena back the way they had come, into the deserted part of the Command Deck. She led the way to one of the consoles and activated it. The layout was unfamiliar, but a standard communications format appeared on one of the screens. “I just want to get Gallian’s okay first,” Sariena murmured by way of explanation. Moments later, Gallian was looking out at them.
“Sariena!” he exclaimed. “I presume you’re back up in the ship by now. No problems, I trust? Have Landen and his friends arrived yet?”