Maybe the urgency was imagined, but Vee felt it nonetheless. Part of her was aware that someone had come to stand behind her and read over her shoulder. She thought it was Josh, but she didn’t turn to make sure.
Wait, she typed. You can’t transfer an entire population from one world to another every ten years or so. On the other hand, who knew? T’sha had shown her an image of the portal they used to transfer from Home to Venus, but she couldn’t explain how it worked. Vee could give her no words to help out. This was so far up the line from the world Vee knew that there was no way to talk about it. They needed a quantum physicist or something down here.
We would not perform the transfer every ten years, T’sha’s new words said. It would be every three thousand.
Vee whistled. You think in the long term don’t you?
T’sha froze. Startled? Is there another way to think of life?
You’d be surprised. Vee licked her lips. Look, T’sha, I think you should know there are those in the government on Earth who are not going to be very happy with the fact that you’ve started colonizing one of our worlds without asking them first.
One of your worlds? T’sha grew and shrank uncertainly for a moment and then settled down, small but not sagging. Then this IS your world?
Yes, replied Vee, wondering at the emphasis.
T’sha’s muzzle opened and closed a few times as she watched the holobubble. Finally, new words appeared.
How is it yours?
Vee pulled back a minute. As she did, Josh leaned forward. She felt him before she saw him. She glanced back, looking for suggestions.
“Be careful, Vee,” he said. “I think we’re probing close to a nerve here.”
“You too, huh?” Vee shook her head. “Okay, let’s go for honesty.” She typed, I don’t understand.
T’sha swelled and rattled her wings. Impatience? How is it yours? What do you build here? Where do you live? How do you use this place? I must be able to speak of legitimate use.
Josh looked down at her and shrugged. Vee felt a chill sinking into her. Josh was right. There was a nerve under these words, and she had to find a way around it. We have our base, Venera, here.
Again, T’sha rattled her wings. Her crest ruffled and smoothed as if it were breathing. But your base does nothing. It does not expand, it does not build or grow, it does not spread life.
Vee hesitated and suddenly wished Rosa were with her. Rosa was the one who could manage a room full of hostile board members. Rosa would surely be able to give the right answers to one alien. Actually, Vee wished there was anyone in this chair right now except her.
We have always considered the planets orbiting the sun ours. They didn’t belong to anyone else.
Even the ones you do not use? They are yours? Now Vee couldn’t see T’sha move at all. The ambassador just hung there, like a holograph of herself.
The idea has always been we’d find a use for them eventually.
No answer came back. Vee licked her lips and tried again.
I’m not saying this is right, T’sha, but it’s an old habit of thought, and it’s going to be hard to break.
No answer. T’sha’s muzzle pointed toward the sky and her wings spread wide. Vee sat frozen with her hands hovering over the keys. What do I do? What do I do? What made me think I could pull this off?
All at once, T’sha froze. Vee saw her mouth move, but nothing new appeared on the translator. This had happened a couple of times before. T’sha was getting a message from her colleagues over the spidery headset she wore. Vee sat back and glanced up at Josh. His face was tight with worry. She knew exactly how he felt.
Outside, T’sha swelled as if she sought to drink in the whole world.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I must go. I…there is word my city is sick. Someone will come speak to you. I must go.
T’sha launched herself into the air, rocketing into the distance. The dirigible overhead detached itself from the tent and began to follow.
Vee lowered her hands onto the command board. “Good luck,” she murmured.
“Her city’s sick?” said Josh.
Vee nodded, watching after T’sha until she vanished over the edge of Beta Regio. “Her city’s alive. It’s…it’s like a friend.” She turned her gaze toward the sky again. The horror of the idea seeped slowly into her mind. The city was a friend and the city was sick, maybe dying. It was too enormous to be really understood all at once, and it overlaid all the previous conversation, where they scrabbled for ideas and understanding and came up empty.
Friends were dying, families were dying, and they needed someplace safe to go. That place, they had decided, was here. Their only question was whether the humans were here first.