The Mote In God's Eye

"Nonsense. Mr. Re

"Yes."

"But Dr. Buckman is counting on going. The Moties have been studying Murcheson's Eye and the Coal Sack for a long time... how long, Mr. Potter?"

The midshipman squirmed uncomfortably before answering. "Thousands of years, sir," he said finally. "Only..."

"Only what, Mister?" Rod prompted. Potter was a bit shy, and he'd have to outgrow that. "Speak up."

"Yes, sir. There are gaps in their observations, Captain. The Modes hae never mentioned the fact, but Dr. Buckman says it is obvious. I would hae said they sometimes lose interest in astronomy, but Dr. Buckman can nae understand that."

"He wouldn't," Rod laughed. "Just how important are those observations, Mr. Potter?"

"For astrophysics, perhaps verra important, Captain. They hae been watching yon supergiant for aye their history as it passed across the Coal Sack. ‘Twill go supernova and then become a black hole-and the Moties say they know when."

Midshipman Whitbread laughed. Everyone turned to stare at him. Whitbread could hardly control his features. "Sorry, sir-but I was there when Gavin told Buckman about that. The Eye will explode in A.D. 2,774,020 on April 27 between four and four-thirty in the morning, they say. I thought Dr. Buckman was going to strangle himself. Then he started doing his own checking. It took him thirty hours-"

Sally gri

"Yes, but he found out they were right," Whitbread told them. The midshipman cleared his throat and mimicked Buckman's dry voice. "Damned close, Mr. Potter. I've got the mathematics and observations to prove it."

"You're developing a talent for acting, Mr. Whitbread," First Lieutenant Cargill said. "Pity your work in astrogation doesn't show a similar improvement. Captain, it seems to me that Dr. Buckman can get everything he needs here. There's no reason for him to go to the Mode planet."

"Agreed. Dr. Horvath, the answer is no. Besides-do you really want to spend a week cooped up with Buckman? You needn't answer that," he added quickly. "Whom will you take?"

Horvath frowned for a moment. "De Vandalia, I suppose."

"Yes, please," Sally said quickly. "We need a geologist. I've tried digging for rock samples, and I didn't learn a thing about the make-up of Mote Prime. There's nothing but ruins made up of older ruins."

"You mean they don't have rocks?" Cargill asked.

"They have rocks, Commander," she answered. "Granite and lava and basalts, but they aren't where whatever formed this planet put them. They've all been used, for walls, or tiles, or roofs. I did find cores in a museum, but I can't make much sense out of them."

"Now wait a minute," said Rod. "You mean you go out and dig at random, and wherever you dig you find what's left of a city? Even out in the farm lands?"

"Well, there wasn't time for many digs. But where I did dig, there was always something else underneath. I never knew when to stop! Captain, there was a city like A.D. 2000 New York under a cluster of adobe huts without plumbing. I think they had a civilization that collapsed, perhaps two thousand years ago."

"That would explain the observation lapses," Rod said. "But-they seem brighter than that. Why would they let a civilization collapse?" He looked to Horvath, who shrugged.

"I have an idea," Sally said. "The contaminants in the air-wasn't there a problem with pollution from internal combustion engines on Earth sometime during the CoDominium? Suppose the Modes had a civilization based on fossil fuels and ran out? Mightn't they have dropped back into an Iron Age before they developed fusion power and plasma physics again? They seem to be awfully short on radioactive ores."

Rod shrugged. "A geologist could help a lot, then-and he has far more need to be on the spot than Dr. Buckman does. I take it that's settled, Dr. Horvath?"

The Science Minister nodded sourly. "But I still don't like this Navy interference with our work. You tell him, Dr. Hardy. This must stop."

The Chaplain linguist looked surprised. He had sat at the back of the room, saying nothing but listening attentively. "Well, I have to agree that a geologist will be more useful on the surface than an astrophysicist, Anthony. And-Captain, I find myself in a unique position. As a scientist I ca

-I think I have to agree with the Admiral."

Everyone turned toward the portly Chaplain in surprise. "I am astonished, Dr. Hardy," Horvath said. "Have you seen the smallest evidence of warlike activities on Mote Prime?"

Hardy folded his hands carefully and spoke across the tops of his fingertips. "No. And that, Anthony, is what concerns me. We know the Moties do have wars: the Mediator class was evolved, possibly consciously evolved, to stop them. I do not think they always succeed. So why are the Moties hiding their armaments from us? For the same reason we conceal ours, is the obvious answer, but consider: we do not conceal the fact that we have weapons, or even what their general nature is. Why do they?"

"Probably ashamed of them," Sally answered. She winced at the look on Rod's face. "I didn't really mean it that way-but they have been civilized longer than we have, and they might be embarrassed by their violent past."

"Possibly," Hardy admitted. He sniffed his brandy speculatively. "And possibly not, Sally. I have the impression the Moties are hiding something important-and hiding it right under our noses, so to speak."

There was a long silence. Horvath sniffed loudly. Finally the Science Minister said, "And how could they do that, Dr. Hardy? Their government consists of informal negotiations by representatives of the givers of orders class. Every city seems to be nearly autonomous. Mote Prime hardly has a planetary government, and you think they're able to conspire against us? It is not very reasonable."

Hardy shrugged again. "From what we have seen, Dr. Horvath, you are certainly correct. And yet I ca

"They showed us everything," Horvath insisted. "Even givers of orders' households, where they don't normally have visitors."

"Sally was just getting to that before you came in," Rod said quickly. "I'm fascinated-how does the Mode officer class live? Like the Imperial aristocracy?"

"That's a better guess than you might think," Horvath boomed. Two dry martinis had mellowed him considerably. "There were many similarities-although the Moties have an entirely different conception of luxuries from ours. Some things in common, though. Land. Servants. That sort of thing." Horvath took another drink and warmed to his subject.

"Actually, we visited two households. One lived in a skyscraper near the Castle. Seemed to control the entire building: shops, light industry, hundreds of Browns and Reds and Workers and-oh, dozens of other castes. The other one, though, the agriculturist, was very like a country baron. The work force lived in long rows of houses, and in between the row houses were fields. The ‘baron' lived in the center of all that,"

Rod thought of his own family home. "Crucis Court used to be surrounded by villages and fields-but of course all the villages were fortified after the Secession Wars. So was the Court, for that matter."

"Odd you should say that," Horvath mused. "There was a sort of square fortified shape to the ‘barony' too. Big atrium in the middle. For that matter, all the residential skyscrapers have no windows on the lower floors, and big roof gardens. Quite self-sufficient. Looked very military. We don't hive to report that impression to the Admiral, do we? He'd be sure we'd discovered militaristic tendencies."