The Mote In God's Eye

"None?" demanded Ivan.

"None that I have seen." Jock indicated the tri-v. "They must train their young in every trade. Many of the programs on this set are for that purpose."

"They have time to learn," Charlie reflected. "They live very long. Longer than any Master."

"Yes, but what a waste. They have no Browns, and no Watchmakers-"

Ivan interrupted. "You are certain they have no Watchmakers?"

"Yes We saw no signs on the ships, nor have there been any on the tri-v, nor are there the expected products of Watchmakers. There are no individualized personal items-"

"I have seen such. The guards who attended us on Lenin carried such and many wore such footgear."

"Made by our own Watchmakers-"

"Precisely," said Ivan. "Now we know why they destroyed MacArthur. And why they fear us."

The Mediators jabbered excitedly until Ivan cut them off again. "You agree?" He asked in the tone commanding information to be confirmed,

"Yes!" they said in unison. Charlie spoke rapidly, drowning Jock out. "The Brown miner they took aboard would have carried a breeding pair of Watchmakers. The humans know nothing of Watchmakers and would have allowed them to escape. And given free run of the ship and much time to adapt to it-"

"Yet we were told they have Watchmakers," Ivan said. Jock took a pose indicating memory recall. After a second he said, "No. Sally allowed us to assume that they have them. When her Fyunch(click) suggested that human Watchmakers were large, Sally agreed."

"And the midshipmen seemed startled when we spoke of them regarding construction of their lifeboats," Charlie said flatly. "Yes. You are certainly correct."

There was silence. Ivan thought. Then he said, "They know we have a prolific subspecies. You will reflect on this."

"They fear that we deliberately caused the destruction of MacArthur," Charlie said. "Curse! If only they had told us. We could have told them of the dangers, and the humans would have nothing to fear. Curse! Why did the universe arrange that the first Motie they met was a Brown?"

"They said MacArthur was infested with plague," Jock mused. "And so it was, although we did not believe them. A plague of Watchmakers. Yet. If they truly believe we deliberately destroyed their ship, or allowed it to be destroyed, why have they not said so? Why did they not ask?"

"They conceal their vulnerabilities," said Charlie. "And they never admit defeat. Even in their final minutes the midshipmen refused to surrender."

There was silence. - Ivan spoke. "The humans did not wish us to know there were Watchmakers aboard until they had killed them. They were certain they could do that. Then, after, they did not wish us to know Watchmakers could destroy their ships."

"Fools!" Charlie shouted. "Watchmakers given time to adapt can destroy any ship. They contribute greatly to a collapse. If they were not so useful we would have them exterminated."

"That's been done," Jock said. He gestured dry humor. "With the usual result. Another Master kept hers-"

"Silence," Ivan demanded. "They fear us. Speak of that."

"Do you know of what the humans call ‘fiction'?" Charlie asked. "Deliberately constructed legends. Both those who hear and those who tell them know they are false."

Ivan and Jock indicated they were familiar with the concept.

"There was a tri-v program last evening. It was fiction as are many of the broadcasts. This one was called ‘Istvan Dies.' When it was completed the commentator spoke as if the major action of the story were true."

"I did not see," Jock said. "Viceroy Merrill wished me to meet some Traders before the reception for the Barons. Curse! These endless formalities consume our time and we learn nothing from them."

"I did not tell you of this program," Charlie said. "The principal actor portrayed a man obviously intended to be Admiral Kutuzov."

Jock signaled astonishment and lament for lost opportunities.

"You have a point?" Ivan demanded.

"Yes. The story was one of conflicting motives. The admiral in command did not wish to do what he did. There was war between humans: between the Empire and those outies they fear so greatly."

"Could we not come to terms with the outies?" Jock demanded

"How?" Ivan said. "They control all access to us. If they suspect we would ever do so, they would do anything to prevent it. Do not even think of such things. Tell me of your program."

"In this war there was revolt of a planet. Other planets would soon revolt. What was a small war could become a very large war, with many planets involved. The admiral detected a way to prevent that, and decided it was his duty. With five ships like Lenin he killed all life on a planet inhabited by ten millions of humans."

There was long silence.

"They are able to do this?" Ivan demanded.

"I believe so," Charlie answered. "I am not a Brown to be certain, but-"

"You will reflect on this. Remember that they fear us. Recall that they now know we have a prolific subspecies. Recall also that from study of the probe they placed this man in charge of the expedition to our system. Fear for your Masters and your sisters." Ivan went to his chamber. After a long time the Mediators began to speak rapidly, but very softly.

52 Options

Heavy clouds raced across New Scotland skies. They parted to let New Cal's bright rays slant warmingly into the paneled conference room. Bright objects flashed momentarily - before the windows polarized. Outside there were deep shadows in the Palace grounds, but the sunlight was yet bright in the narrow streets where government offices emptied for the day. Killed crowds jostled and milled as the sector bureaucracy hurried home to their families, a drink, and tri-v.

Rod Blame stared moodily through the windows. Down below a pretty secretary hurried out of the Palace, so frantic to reach a people-mover that she nearly bowled over a senior clerk. An important date, Rod thought. And the clerk, will have a family... all those people. My responsibility, and that may be just too damn bad for the Moties.

There was a bustle of activity behind him, "You got arrangements for feedin' the Modes?" Kelley demanded.

"Yes sir," a steward answered. "The chef would like to do something with that mush they eat, though-spices, something. He don't feel right, just putting meat and grain in a pot and boiln' it."

"He can get artistic some other time. The Commissioners don't want anything fancy tonight. Just be able to feed ‘em all if they want it." Kelley glanced at the magic coffeepot to be sure it was full, then glared at an empty space next to it. "Where's the goddamn chocolate?" he demanded.

"It's comin', Mr. Kelley," the steward said defensively.

"Right. See that it's here before the Moties come in. That'll be an hour." Kelley glanced at the wall clock. "OK. I guess we're ready. But make sure of that chocolate."

Since they'd discovered it aboard Lenin the Moties had become addicted to hot chocolate. It was one of the few human beverages they liked; but the way they liked it! Kelley shuddered. Butter he could understand. They put butter in chocolate aboard the Limey ships. But a drop of machine oil in every cup?

"Ready for us, Kelley?" Rod asked.

"Yes, my lord," Kelley assured him. He took his place at the bar and pressed a button to signal that the conference could begin. Somethin' botherin' the boss, he decided. Not his girl, either. Glad I don't have his problems.

A door opened and the Commission staff came in, followed by several of Horvath's scientists. They took seats along one side of the inlaid table and laid their pocket computers in front of them. There were soft hums as they tested their linkup with the Palace computer system.

Horvath and Senator Fowler were still arguing as they entered. "Doctor, it takes time to process these things-"