Home Ground? Eric frowned. I didn’t think the Vitae had a home.
“Second is the procedure for seizure and control of the artifacts on the Home Ground.”
The translation must be mucked up. That can’t be what she said.
“Third is the procedure for establishing habitable zones for the main body of Vitae emigration.”
The man standing to her immediate left spoke. “Historian Masselin of the Guardian Voice will present the first proposal.”
The crowd of holograms faded from view, leaving a single figure, a bald Vitae in an amethyst robe, standing on the third tier from the stage.
“We still do not have a reliable model of how the Aunorante Sangh accomplished the theft of the Home Ground …”
“Adu!” Eric started to his feet and slapped his hand down on the STOP key.
“What?” came back the android’s voice.
Eric backed away from the screen. “Where are you getting this translation from? It’s screwed up eight-eight ways.” He stabbed a finger toward the keyboard.
“The translation is accurate.”
“It can’t be!”
Adu stepped into the doorway. “Why not?”
Eric stared at the blank screen and realized he was still pointing. He lowered his hand slowly and swallowed. “Because,” he said as if he could force reason into his words, “Aunorante Sangh is a term from the Realm, not from the Vitae. This translation is coming through in Standard, and it must have gotten cross-fed with the …”
He suddenly remembered Basq’s sharp response when he had used the term. A slow, sick sensation closed in on him. Fear, with unwanted comprehension following fast behind.
They thought they’d be able to talk to Arla without help. Why did they think that?
“Adu,” Eric croaked, “do a data sort for me. The cross-reference is Aunorante Sangh.”
“Right.” He turned away, then turned halfway back. “Are you all right?”
Eric didn’t answer, he just sank back into his chair.
What’s the matter with me? I left that all behind. I left! I … Eric looked down at his hands and watched the smooth, blank, brown skin stretch and relax as his fists clenched and unclenched.
Right. I left. But I haven’t forgotten anything. And I still go back. First sign of trouble and I’m right back where I started.
Oh Nameless Powers and Metthew Garismit, let me be wrong. Let me be sick and tired and completely wrong. Eric pressed the heels of both hands against his eyes. Garismit’s Eyes! How could I have hoped to get away!
“… recording the statements of Bio-technician Uary of the Grand Errand. Proceed, Technician.”
Eric lifted his hands away from his eyes. On the screen, a pinched young man in a bright purple robe was unbending from a deep bow. At a table in front of him sat a man and a woman both robed in black. The man’s hand lay on the table and only had four fingers on it.
“Contractor Avir, Contractor Kelat, I have entered the data from the DNA analysis on Eric Born into data storage, but my findings are …”
Eric’s throat closed. He swallowed to clear it, but could do nothing to move his frozen gaze, or close his opened jaw.
The purple-robed man, Uary, leaned against the tabletop. Above the table appeared a holographic representation of two beaded, twisted strings.
“This is Born’s DNA construct. It is between one-half and one-third the length of the DNA sequence of any other race from the Evolution Point that our databases have on file. This brevity and lack of redundancy attests to his artificial genesis as much as his extramechanical ability. But within this short stretch, his Engineers”—Uary paused—“left no less than three hundred nucleotide sequences that can be identified as unique to the Rhudolant Vitae.”
Avir rose slowly. “Be very, very sure about what you are saying, Technician.” There was a tremor in her voice that sounded to Eric like eagerness.
“I am, Contractor,” said Uary with absolute finality. “Eric Born’s ancestors must have been engineered from Vitae DNA. If we know where his world is, it is likely we have found the Home Ground again. There is no question in my mind but that he is Aunorante Sangh.”
No.
“We will have to confirm …”
The Nameless sent their Servant, who saw a way to move the world …
“… will authorize a probe …”
Funny-looking place, isn’t it? Out there on its own.
“I cannot at this time offer congratulations …”
It ain’t natural, but it works …
“No!” Eric shouted aloud.
It couldn’t be. The Realm could not really have been moved. It was not possible. There could not have really been Nameless Powers who walked the world and created their people. They could not have really sent their Servant, who understood how to move the world to get it away from … Eric stared at the robed figures in their bare silver room. To get it away from these people in their ships.