Except for an occasional rain storm, the weather on the small, uninhabited tropical island remained pleasant following the return of Memsala and Boro from the last contact mission.
For the next eight days, with all Education Service people present (although one still slithered about very slowly), all contact specialists there (of those who were still alive), and all crew members back on duty (one with a new appreciation for the simple ability to walk), they began the process of telling the many stories they had heard or observed, asking questions, and coming to some tentative conclusions.
And all during those eight days, one purple-haired being — in a class by herself — sat on the sand or the galley counter and listened, but said nothing.
No one had any doubt that the whales, dolphins, seals, manatees, and other cetaceans, would be ready and willing to leap into evacuation ships in twelve years’ time. Boro thought they’d be lined up, watching the sky, in eleven. Everyone splashed or laughed deeply.
The testudine were more of a mystery. The sea turtles knew what was happening to their world, and Memsala thought some would leave, but couldn’t be absolutely sure.
Boro had no insights to add.
Just as the meeting was about to take a break for food and play, Toran Takil noticed a funny expression on Memsala’s face — a face not known for very many readable expressions — and asked everyone to stay for a few more
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minutes. They all sat in silence, waiting for the respected teacher to gather her thoughts.
“I think . . . they sense that they have a part to play in the drama that approaches . . . and do not feel good about giving us a decision . . . until they figure out what purpose they might still have.”
She fell silent for a long moment. Everyone waited.
“That
might mean,” she eventually went on, “that they will not leave in twelve years, but would appreciate a ship checking on them every few years
. . . until it becomes too late.”
Rini thought he saw Arantiloria nod slightly.
Malika-Terno was clearly full of mixed feelings as he talked about his fellow equines. Many others asked questions, and the situation became crystal clear as the day progressed. There was no evidence that any horses would leave the planet of their birth, no matter what. It was just not in their nature.
Mati remained silent, knowing she had already contributed, while hiding with Malika-Terno in various weedy places during their contact mission, everything she could.
Ashley wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily. “Mati, what’s your opinion of the equines of Ko-tera Three?”
Mati sighed, then took a moment to consider her answer.
“I was a slave once, a slave who had no hope of getting out of slavery. I just couldn’t do anything that would earn me a living in any other way. Of course, back then, I didn’t know about piloting starships, or any of the other things I do now.”
Several people chuckled or clucked.
She smiled. “I almost got married to the wrong person at one point in my life, but discovered that slavery can follow you anywhere if you’re not careful and make good choices.”
She paused to gather her thoughts, and noticed Rini trying not to smile.
“So . . . I guess I’ve come to understand why the equines won’t leave. But I keep thinking about a training exercise we did recently in which the simulated bunnies could not make good choices about the situation because it was too
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far outside their experience. We had to choose for them. I don’t know if this situation is like that, and we should force the equines to move to a new home, or if we have to respect their wishes. Someone with much more wisdom will have to make that decision.”
“Thanks, Mati,” Ashley said.
Kolarrr’ka turned his head slightly and tried to read the expression on Arantiloria’s face, but could not.
The near-sapient races were easier to talk about.
Everyone quickly agreed that a special mission by reptiles should be sent to the lizards T’sss’lisss had found. She just didn’t have enough information, and she freely admitted it from where she lay on the warm sand trying to stretch the kinks out of her spine.
Rini had not seen the lizards at all, so could add little to the meeting.
When they turned their discussion to the native avians, Kolarrr’ka proposed a ship collect a few thousand large birds, after putting them to sleep, from the tropical gathering places. Another transport, kept at a very low temperature, should be offered to the flightless birds near the poles. He believed they would take it willingly.
Ashley wasn’t so sure, but agreed there was no harm in giving them that option before rendering them unconscious.
“Bok,” Kolarrr’ka began after a leisurely breakfast the next morning that included all the bananas they could eat, “I’m sorry the ursine report rests entirely on your wings, Sata . . . I mean your shoulders . . . but as I understand it, you would have had a hard time getting back alive without Ss’klexna Rrr’tak’fi’s sacrifice.”
Sata swallowed. “Yeah, unless Manessa had arrived very quickly.”
“When we listened to your story the first time, bok, we focused on the events. Now we want you to give us your opinions, your evaluations, your judgments.”
The navigator was silent for a long time. Eventually her mouth began to move back and forth between a slight smile and a worried frown.
“Part of me is still angry at the bears, and is tempted to say leave them, let
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them die with the planet.”
As she took a slow breath, she could almost feel Arantiloria looking at her.
“But I know that’s not an emotion I should act on. That would make me
. . . like the stupid bears . . . and only near-sapient.”
Chuckles and splashing noises all around the circle of listeners made Sata smile. She looked up to see Boro grinning from ear to ear at her.
“The bears have some kind of code of honor,” she went on. “Ss’klexna understood it, but I don’t pretend to. They kept their word and didn’t harm me, so that’s something. I guess . . . they should get a chance to relocate if the planet cannot be saved. But I recommend they be put into a deep sleep first, or someone could get hurt.”
Several other thoughts about the ursines of Ko-tera Three were expressed by others, but no one contradicted Sata’s primary recommendation.
During play time that day, everyone got at least a little wet in the warm tropical waters of the lagoon. Kolarrr’ka floated on the surface, and T’sss’lisss slithered quickly across the water, later saying it felt wonderful to her sore muscles. Malika-Terno surprised everyone by preferring the open beach, where he walked out as far as he could, then swam another hundred meters before starting to feel a cross-current that would have taken him out to sea.
At that point, he turned back.
After shaking, toweling dry, or running in the sunshine, they gathered in a circle at the water’s edge once again. Everyone looked at Toran Takil, the only contact specialist who had not yet made his recommendations.
“You all know me. You know I would never speak lightly on such matters, or with any intentional conflict of interest. And I offer as proof that I have never made a recommendation like this before, even though I have been a contact specialist to felines several times.”
They all sensed the gravity of his words, and remained silent.
“If the climate of Ko-tera Three can be stabilized so the hydrological cycle continues to function — in other words, so the tropical rain forests are preserved — either by the actions of the monkey mammals or our actions after they are gone — then I believe the large cats of this planet are a very good candidate to become the next dominant land animal.”
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The team discussed Toran Takil’s recommendation for hours.
They agreed that even if the humans acted quickly, some climate heating had already begun, and the jungles would expand, along with the deserts.
Monkey mammals could live in both, but not thrive in either.
It was also explained that the humans had already raised their population far beyond what the planet could support in the long run. By whatever means their dominance came to an end — voluntary or forced by a changing climate
— they would experience a huge die-back, and their culture would be greatly simplified in the process.
Toran Takil was quick to point out that if the planet lost its hydrological cycle, no rain would fall anywhere, vast deserts would span the globe, and nothing, no matter how sapient, could preserve anything beyond simple, tribal culture.
Arantiloria seldom revealed what she was thinking, but to the big cat’s last comment, she nodded.
After another day of playing, relaxing, gathering tropical fruit, and discussing the recommendations that had been made, T’sss’lisss rose up from her coils as the sun found the western horizon.
“Ashley has informed me that I am now in charge. I guess I healed my poor broken body — and learned some hard lessons about wild snakes — just in time.”
Everyone smiled, laughed, or whinnied. Rini’s ribs were still too sore to laugh, so he just grinned.
“The monkey mammals’ space probe is approaching its final assignment, the last major planet in the system, Ko-tera Eleven. It will take pictures, make some measurements, then continue on into the blackness of inter-stellar space. Let us go witness this historic event, and consider the next step in our mission.”
Everyone went into action, bringing in beach balls, towels, pieces of clothing, or one last bunch of fruit, before beginning pre-flight preparations or settling into passenger seats.