MARC

It was typical of his kind that the loss of Soar—and of his fellow Amnion aboard—meant nothing to Marc Vestabule.

The ship itself had been merely a technological artifact: temporarily useful as an ally; ultimately more interesting for the methods of production it represented than for itself. Its human crew was exactly that: human rather than Amnion; significant only because they served the Amnion—and might become available for research. And the Amnion aboard Soar were expendable. The protein soup from which more Amnion might be grown was plentiful: any Amnioni could excrete it by the liter at need. Therefore any individual could be replaced by another with the same abilities and characteristics.

Even Milos Taverner was not to be lamented, despite his precious heritage. Physically he was a near-perfect transformation; better than Marc Vestabule. The Mind/Union had achieved important advances. But psychologically he was a failed experiment: he had retained too little of his past identity. An Amnioni who appeared human, but who thought, spoke, and acted Amnion, would be too easily detected; therefore useless against humankind.

Like all his fellows, Marc Vestabule wasted neither attention nor emotion on the death of Soar.

On the other hand, the fact that Soar had turned against Calm Horizons required a great deal of attention. Specifically it required Marc Vestabule’s attention. He had been invested with decisiveness aboard Calm Horizons. And he remembered more of his former humanity than any other Amnioni like him.

Because he remembered, he was not replaceable.

Sorus Chatelaine’s betrayal had been quintessentially human: no Amnioni could have imagined—much less carried out—such an action. Even Marc Vestabule only grasped it with considerable effort. To contemplate its implications caused him a form of nausea so fundamental that it might have been ribonucleic.

Nevertheless he did contemplate them. The dilemma of Trumpet’s escape made that necessary.

Many of his memories were gone, but he could still recollect the end of his time aboard the human ship he had served, Viable Dreams. He remembered its capture by treachery. He remembered the vindictive fury of the man who had taken it into Amnion space in order to sell its crew: Angus Thermopyle. And he remembered his own desperation—

The Amnion did not comprehend terror or frenzy. They understood urgency: they were capable of haste. Their dedication to their own purposes was complete—and completely organic. But they were not genetically encoded for desperation. They could not encompass it.

Marc Vestabule still did.

It was the key to understanding humankind. Sorus Chatelaine had betrayed Calm Horizons—despite the dictates of her own self-interest—out of desperation. Similarly, desperation had driven Angus Thermopyle to sell the crew of Viable Dreams: it drove him and his companions aboard Trumpet now. And the results of Soar’s treason had been disastrous. Trumpet had fled intact. A UMCP cruiser had received Trumpet’s broadcast. Beyond question the outcome of Trumpet’s escape would also be disastrous.

Once the desperation was grasped, the nature of the disaster became possible to imagine.

Trumpet would approach some large human station—or perhaps Earth itself. Alternatively the small vessel might join forces with its defender, the UMCP cruiser. Then the formula for the mutagen immunity drug would become broadly known. Until a means was devised to circumvent or mask the drug, humankind would be effectively impervious to absorption or transformation.

That invulnerability might inspire the species to initiate a war: a war of ships and weaponry; a technological war, which the Amnion could not win.

Yet even if humankind did not react so extremely, they would be forewarned of Amnion researches into near-C acceleration. Given their mechanistic ingenuity, and their vast means of production, they might well design weapons or defenses to counter the greater velocity of future Amnion vessels. They might devise the means to acquire such velocities themselves.

And their efforts would be inspired by Calm Horizons’ own actions, which they would doubtless consider an act of war, as well as by Trumpet’s broadcast.

Lastly—the heaviest blow—the opportunity which the force-grown template called Davies Hyland represented would be lost. If a human could be made Amnion, and yet retain the ability to speak and act and pass as human, the purposes of the Amnion might be achieved at one stroke. That great accomplishment would make possible a war of infiltration and mutation; a war which humankind could not win.

Only an opportunity to study Davies Hyland might serve to counter the other harms which Trumpet could do.

Sorus Chatelaine’s—and Angus Thermopyle’s—desperation had created a dilemma which none of Marc Vestabule’s fellows were equipped to evaluate.

He had been invested with decisiveness aboard Calm Horizons. After a period of rigorous contemplation—and acute nausea—he concluded that the complex threats of Trumpet’s escape could only be answered by an act of even greater desperation.

He decided nothing in isolation. The air of Calm Horizons was rich with communication of all kinds: information and analysis; emotion and commentary. Pheromones filled with language the sweet atmosphere which the Amnion craved. Marc Vestabule was an Amnioni, alive to the scents and hues of nucleotidal communion; nourished by it.

Yet he was truly unique among his fellows. Furthermore they all recognized his uniqueness: they recognized its value. Without that recognition he would not have been invested. The conclusions he reached were neither understood nor questioned. By a common consent of the most profound form, his uniqueness was granted scope.

The risks were great. Indeed, they were vast. If Calm Horizons failed and died, the costs would be terrible. And Marc Vestabule could do nothing to diminish them. Like symbiotic crystalline resonance transmitters, gap courier drones were difficult to grow; hugely expensive in time, effort, and expertise. He was fortunate that he had been supplied with the former. He had no access to the latter. Therefore if he acted on his memories of desperation he would be unable to inform or forewarn his kind of their peril.

Nevertheless when Calm Horizons reentered normal space beyond the Massif-5 system, the defensive turned at once and began spanning the dimensional gap on a direct course for Earth.