Текст книги "Dark Ararat"

Автор книги: Brian Stableford

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

TWENTY-THREE

When Matthew and Solari returned to the bubble Solari decided that the time had come to interview Maryanne Hyder about Delgado’s murder. Matthew decided, for his part, that it was time to confront Tang Dinh Quan.

The biochemist was in his laboratory, patiently monitoring the results on an electrophoretic analysis. The robot-seeded slides were so small that he had to use a light microscope to read the results. The shelves to either side of him were full of jars containing preserved specimens of tissues and whole organisms—mostly worms of various kinds—but pride of place on his largest work-surface was given to the massive biocontainment cell into which he had decanted the tentacled slug that Blackstone had brought in that morning. The interior of the cell was fitted with robot hands that Tang could use to manipulate the specimen, administer injections, and take tissue samples, but the slug seemed perfectly serene and relaxed. It was easy to imagine that its tiny eyespots were focused on its tormentor, while its distributed nervous system contemplated revenge for all the indignities he might care to heap up on it.

Matthew knew that Tang was one of numerous surface-based scientists working on the proteomics that would eventually supplement the genomic analyses carried out by Andrei Lityansky’s counterparts at Bases One and Two. Proteomic analyses had never acquired the same glamor as the genomic analyses upon which they were usually considered to be parasitic, but biochemists tended to regard theirs as the real work. Hunting and sequencing exons was a fully automated procedure, while the patient work of figuring out exactly what the proteins the exons produced actually did, in the context of a functioning physiology, required a talent for collation and cross-correlation that even the cleverest AIs had not yet mastered.

Forearmed by Lityansky, Matthew already knew that the proteomics of the complex organisms of the Tyrian ecosphere was likely to be just as convoluted as the proteomics of Earth’s “higher” organisms. On both worlds the genomes of the most sophisticated organisms had accumulated many idiosyncrasies as the improvisations of natural selection had built more potential into them. But Ararat-Tyre had an extra complication: the supplementary genome that might or might not be an independent homeobox.

“Is there anything new that I need to know about?” Matthew asked, figuring that it would be better to begin on a thoroughly professional basis.

Mercifully, Tang wasn’t the kind of man to quibble about the meaning of need. He was ready to share his discoveries with all apparent frankness.

“My colleagues at Base One are beginning to make progress with their analyses of the cellular metabolism of a wide range of plants and animals,” he said. “As you’d expect from the fundamentals, many of the functional proteins made by the nucleic acid analogue are very similar to those made by DNA. The functions of the second coding-molecule are much more arcane. There are no earthly analogues for the relatively few molecules we’ve so far identified as products of that system, all of which are protein-lipid hybrids. Until we can establish an artificial production system it will be difficult to test the hypothesis that its functions are mainly homeotic, but we have found that high concentrations of key hybrid compounds are associated with growth. Thisspecimen may be very useful to us in that respect; now that I know what to look for I may be able to confirm that its exceptional size is correlated with unusual activity of the second replicator. If I can prove that the slugs can alter their size in response to environmental circumstance, and that growth isn’t an ongoing, unidirectional process, it will be the first step in establishing a key difference between Tyrian and Earthly organisms. Proving that they’re emortal will be harder, and testing the limits of their metamorphic potential harder still, but it isa start. We know now that the apparent similarities between Tyrian animals and their Earthly analogues conceals radical differences, and that the entire ecosphere is far more alien than it seemed at first.”

“Have you been able to do much work on the higher animals?” Matthew asked. “Lityansky didn’t seem to have looked at anything as complicated as the slug, let alone the mammal-analogues.”

“When I first came here,” Tang said, “I was excited by the possibility that we might be able to go straight to the top, as it were, by recovering some genetic material from the city-builders, but the quest has so far proved frustrating. We know that there are monkey-analogues further downstream, which are presumably the nearest relatives of the humanoids so far observed, but our attempts to trap mammal-analogues in and around the ruins have been just as frustrating as our attempts to discover humanoid remains. The river expedition was, of course, intended to compensate for those disappointments. I assume that it still is. One of my fallback projects—fortunately, as it has turned out—was to investigate the class of creatures that includes the one that incapacitated poor Maryanne. My initial interest had nothing do do with the fact that all the species in the group are poisonous, but the work Maryanne and I have done on the toxins has proved very useful. You’ve presumably been informed that the genomics of organisms like this one seem unusually complex even if one sets aside the matter of the second coding molecule. The genomic potential of the DNA-analogue seems to be far more elaborate than its representation in quotidian proteomics.”

Matthew had little difficulty in cutting through Tang’s excessively pedantic choice of terminology, which inevitably tempted him to an opposite extreme. “You mean that it has more genes than it seems to be using at any one time,” Matthew chipped in. “In other words, the orthodox exon-bank has all kinds of tricks up its sleeve—just the sort of thing that a serial chimera would need.”

Tang didn’t take offence at the crudity of Matthew’s presentation. Indeed, he recognized its propriety with a smile. “That’s one possible interpretation,” he agreed. “But let’s not forget the example of the humble frog.”

Matthew nodded to signify that he took the biochemist’s point. Earthly genomic analyses had shown that the relationship between genomic complexity and physical complexity wasn’t a simple one. In spite of their metamorphic capability, frogs were fairly low down on the complexity scale, but they had very bulky genomes because they maintained several parallel sets of genes for performing such seemingly simple tasks as determining the conditions in which their eggs could hatch. On the other hand, that same flexibility extended to patterns of development in early embryos—which was exactly the kind of versatility that might be an interesting consequence of the relative complexity of Tyrian genomes. “Have you made any progress figuring out what the presently unexpressed genes might be for?” he wanted to know.

“Yesterday, I would have had to say no,” Tang said. “Today …” He paused in order to wave a languid hand at his prize specimen before picking up the story. “It’s not just bigger than the other specimens I’ve seen. The mass-surface area considerations that affect growth and form are universal. It hasn’t got legs, so it doesn’t suffer from the supportive problems that affect so many Earthly animals, but the tentacles pose a similar problem. The muscular strength needed to move them increases geometrically in proportion to their length. That could be accomplished straightforwardly by adding muscular bulk, but it isn’t. The structural materials framing the muscle are different. Either a different set of genes has come into play, or the exons are teaming up according to a different pattern. Ike will suspect the latter, of course, but he’s primed to look for gene-nesting explanations. He and I will have to get together to see if we can fit the proteomics to the genomics.”

“That might help to explain why the local invertebrates don’t use a chitin-analogue in their exoskeletal components,” Matthew said. “The advantages of hardness and strength have to be set against the disadvantages of inflexibility. Earthly insects have to shed their exoskeletons if they want to get bigger. Here, where versatility is the order of the day, they use an entirely different set of molecules because it makes it easier to ring the changes.”

“Quite possibly,” Tang agreed. “It remains to be seen, of course, how flexible the system might be. So far, I’ve only had the opportunity to observe relatively minor variations of size and form. Until I find a much bigger giant, or manage to identify two radically different forms of the same chimerical cell-mix, it’s all conjecture.”

“Have you searched the flying-eye data for giant slugs that might be blown-up versions of this one?” Matthew asked.

“Not yet,” was the suitably guarded reply.

“But even if we keep the frog example in mind– especiallyif we keep the frog example in mind—it’s plausible that the extra genes in the DNA-analogue part of the genome include metamorphic options. Options that remain permanently in place, rather than simply guiding a growing individual through a fixed series of stages.”

“It’s all speculative, at present” Tang said. “But yes, those are the lines along which we’ve all been thinking. The parallel systems in frogs are all to do with reproduction—the options can determine the sex of hatchlings as well as facilitating development at a range of different temperatures—so it’s possible there’s a reproductive function here, if only we could figure out exactly how these creatures do reproduce. I’m no anatomist, but I can’t find anything resembling sex organs in this specimen or any of its kin. Andrei Lityansky undoubtedly told you about Bernal Delgado’s speculations about chimerical renewal and exchange, but I’m afraid that I haven’t been able to find any supportive evidence for the kinds of process he imagined. If the organisms are very long-lived, they might not bother to maintain their sex organs permanently—they might develop them temporarily just for the mating season. There are Earthly examples … but the simple fact is that we don’t know.”

“That thing isa chimera, I suppose,” Matthew said, pointing yet again at the creature in the biocontainment cell. “Is it a more complicated chimera than its smaller kin?”

“Oddly enough, no. When I began investigating the specimen I half-expected to find far more extensive chimerization than the smaller specimens exhibit, but it’s a mosaic of eight genetically distinct but phenotypically similar cell-types, which is exactly the same level of complexity as specimens with a tenth of its body mass, and less than some thumb-sized individuals of other kinds. Eight is by far the most frequent figure that turns up—four is only half as common, sixteen less than a quarter. Two crops up fairly regularly, but I haven’t yet found a thirty-two—or, for that matter, a singleton.”

“What about the mammal-analogues?” Matthew asked.

“The work that’s been done at Base One hasn’t turned up anything but fours and eights. That’s disappointing, in a way. There doesn’t seem to be any correlation between phenotypic complexity and chimerical complexity—but everything we’ve examined thus far has been a simplechimera in the sense that all the cells are closely related—often sibs or half-sibs. Again, it all comes back to reproduction. If they don’t grow temporary sex organs for the mating season they may well indulge in periodic radical experiments in chimerization, but …

“Until we catch them at it,” Matthew finished for him, “we have no way of knowing whatthey get up to.”

It wasn’t quite the way Tang would have put it, but he nodded agreement regardless.

“How much hidden potential are we talking about?” Matthew wanted to know. “Setting aside worries about the frog example, how versatile might these beasts be when they’re not cruising in neutral?”

That was a step too far for Tang. “I really can’t say,” the biochemist told him, sadly. “Before I could make any sort of guess I’d have to know what kindof potential it is. I’d be very interested to know what might trigger its release, if you had any ideas on that score.”

Matthew took the invitation as the compliment it was, but he wasn’t able to respond. He hadn’t made any progress at all in wondering what might substitute for Earthly seasonal changes as a series of cues determining the pattern of Tyrian life cycles. All he was able to do, as yet, was turn the question around.

“Do youhave any ideas?” he asked, humbly.

“Not ideas, exactly,” Tang replied.

Matthew guessed quickly enough what that meant. “You mean you have worries,” he said. “Fears, even.” Matthew belatedly remembered what Solari had said about Tang reportedly having shown recent “signs of strain and acute anxiety.” He had seen none himself, so far—quite the reverse, in fact—but Kriefmann must have had some basis for his opinion.

“It seems to me,” the biochemist said, softly, “that the hidden potential contained in the duplex genomes of Ararat-Tyre must be responsive to ecological shifts of some kind. Perhaps it evolved in an era of intermittent ecological crises—not environmentally generated ecocatastrophes, but ecocatastrophes associated with dramatic population increases. I know that you know exactly what I mean, because I recall the rhetoric you used to employ in your inflammatory broadcasts: the lemming principle, the Mouseworld allegory, and so on. If so, isn’t it possible—perhaps probable—that the arrival of alien beings with radically different genomic systems might constitute exactly such a crisis. Thus far, I admit, the world has not responded to its invaders—unless the arrival in this vicinity of the creature that stung Maryanne can be counted a response—but the establishment of three discreet and understaffed Bases in three years has been the merest scratch on the surface. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

Because he obviously wanted Matthew to be the one to say it, Matthew spelled it out. “You’re saying that we might have avoided tweaking the lion’s tail thus far,” he said, “but that decanting the remainder of the would-be colonists and establishing an ecological base for their long-term survival would be a whole new ballgame. You’re saying that although this doesn’t look like a death trap today, it could turn into one with frightening rapidity.”

“We simply don’t know,” Tang added. “Until we figure out the protocols of reproduction, we have no idea what dangers lurk in all that hidden potential.”

And that, Matthew thought, was exactly why Tang was becoming more and more nervous as time went by, and why he had become an enthusiastic advocate of withdrawal, allying himself with the groundling party to which Konstantin Milyukov was implacably opposed.

He figured that the ice had been sufficiently thawed to allow the raising of more delicate issues. “I hear that you and I are rivals for the empty berth on Bernal’s boat,” he said, biting the bullet.

“It’s not Bernal’s boat,” Tang pointed out, mildly. “Common consent had certainly determined that he was entitled to his place in the expedition, but we have all played a part in the design and construction of the boat.”

Matthew took due note of the fact that the wein question did not include him, although Tang had not said in so many words that he ought not to be entitled to a vote when the time came to settle the matter of who should replace Bernal Delgado on the expedition downriver.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said. “I didn’t mean to imply that it wasn’t a collective enterprise. I dare say that everybody here would gain some benefit from the opportunity to see a little more of the continent, and to penetrate the dark heart of its mysterious vitreous grasslands. I understand that you want the berth as much as I do….”

“I don’t,” Tang put in.

The interpolation took the wind out of Matthew’s sails. “You don’t?” he echoed. He was about to apologize again for his misapprehension when Tang wrong-footed him again.

“It’s not a matter of wanting,” the biochemist said. “It’s a matter of which of us is best-equipped to make productive use of the opportunity. If I thought that you were the person who could derive the most benefit from the expedition, I would unhesitatingly concede your right to be a part of it—but you have come to this situation three years too late. I feel that it is my duty to place my own expertise and experience at the disposal of the expedition.”

“But you don’t actually wantto go,” Matthew said.

“That’s correct,” Tang said. He still wasn’t showing any glaringly obvious signs of strain or acute anxiety, but Matthew was beginning to realize what it was that Godert Kriefmann had picked up on.

“In fact,” Matthew added, “you don’t actually want to be here at all. You’d far rather be on Hopewith Andrei Lityansky, maintaining a safe distance from your subject matter.” He reminded himself that Tang was a biochemist: a man for whom reality was contained in chemical formulas and metabolic cycles.

“That too is not a matter of wanting,” Tang told him, very calmly indeed. “it is a matter of responsibility and common sense.”

“Responsibility to whom?” Matthew challenged.

Tang sat back in his chair and regarded him very carefully. “Since you were awakened, Dr. Fleury,” he said, “you have been briefed by Konstantin Milyukov and Andrei Lityansky. It’s rumored that you have also talked to Shen Chin Che. You have certainly heard Rand Blackstone’s opinion, and Lynn Gwyer’s. Every one of those five is opposed to the notion of a temporary or permanent withdrawal from Tyre, and every one will therefore have taken some care to represent the opposing case as a matter of cowardice or foolishness—but I do not believe that you are the kind of man to take aboard the ideas of others unthinkingly. I was rather young when I first encountered your work, and not yet twenty-five when you disappeared from the media landscape, but I have had time enough to familiarize myself with your writings and your intellectual legacy. I may be mistaken, but I feel that I know you rather better than some of the people who first encountered you in the flesh—people like Lynn Gwyer and Ikram Mohammed, perhaps even Bernal Delgado. I feel confident, therefore, that you will not have prejudged this question, and that you will understand far better than many others the true significance of the changes in our situation that have taken place since Hopeleft Earth’s solar system.”

Wrong-footed yet again by the earnest flattery, Matthew had no idea how to reply to it. In the end, wariness defeated his reflexive impulse to try to guess what Tang might mean. “Okay,” he said. “I’m listening. Convince me.”

Tang nodded, as if this was no more than he had expected. “When we enlisted for this mission,” he said, “we did so in the expectation that Earth was about to enter a new Dark Age. You joined the ranks of the frozen in 2090 or thereabouts, more than twenty years before me, but you were a prophet of no mean ability and Mr. Solari must have told you that the situation in the early 2110s seemed every bit as desperate as you had anticipated. The ecosphere was suffering a near-universal collapse, and new plagues were in the process of sterilizing every human female on Earth. I always trusted that the human race would pull through, but I expected a drastic interruption of scientific and social progress. It seems, however, that you and I were too pessimistic.

“There was indeed a Crash, but the rebound was more rapid than you or I would have dared hope. The intelligence gleaned by Hope’s patient crew during the last few centuries suggests that the Dark Age lasted less than half a century, and that technological progress had resumed its ever-more-enormous strides by the end of the twenty-second century. Even then, it seems, men dared to hope that they could live long enough to be the inheritors of authentic emortality. It appears that they were wrong, but a potent technology of longevity was discovered soon enough—three hundred years in what is now our past. You and I, Dr. Fleury, would be members of the last generation of mortal men were it not for the fact that we both have mortal children in suspended animation aboard Hope.”

“But we’re here, and the emortals are still in the solar system,” Matthew pointed out. “We have to deal with our own situation as we are, as mortals—as we always knew that we would. The fact that Earth’s human population has survived and thrived instead of dying is welcome news, but it doesn’t affect what we came here to do. We’re still the first wave of extraterrestrial colonists: the vanguard of the diaspora.”

“On the contrary,” Tang came back at him. “That one fact changes everything—not, admittedly, in terms of what we wantedto do when we set out from the solar system, but in terms of our obligationsto our fellow men. Had Earth really entered a Dark Age, we would indeed have arrived here as pioneers, entitled to believe that we might be the best if not the only hope for the long-term survival of our species. Given the circumstances that actually pertain, however, we are obliged to ask ourselves whether we can still go ahead with the colonization of Tyre, given that it may require less than a hundred years—and will certainly require less than two hundred—for us to learn how to engineer men who would be far better adapted to that task.

“It is certainly not the case that we could not make good use of a delay, given what we have already discovered about the problematic and enigmatic nature of the local ecosphere. If we rush ahead foolishly with the colonization project we do so at the risk of disaster—not merely for ourselves but for the local ecosphere. If, instead, we were to remain in orbit until communications with our parent world could be properly restored, continuing our studies in the meantime with reasonable discretion, we would lose nothing but time. We left the solar system because we thought the human race had run out of time, but we were wrong. We did have time, and we have it still. To act as if we did not would be stupid and irresponsible.”

Tang had been right to point out that everyone to whom Matthew had so far spoken had taken the view that the colonization project must press ahead as originally envisaged. He had also been right to imply, without being so impolite as to state it forth-rightly, that their views had fitted in so readily with Matthew’s preconceptions that he had not even thought to challenge their views with any real vigor. Now, Matthew realized that there might be some merit in the ancient saw that said that wherever fools were inclined to rush in, angels ought to tread more carefully.

“So you’re not actually against the idea of colonization,” Matthew said, carefully. “You just want to take it slowly.”

“I’m not forthe idea of colonization either,” Tang said. “I believe that we ought to proceed slowly and carefully, so that we can make a proper determination of the practicality of colonization. I believe that we ought to discover the solutions to the many enigmas with which we are faced beforewe commit ourselves to a course of action that might be mutually destructive. And I believe that we ought to make sure that if, or when, we decide that colonization of Tyre is both feasible and desirable, the task is undertaken by people who are fully prepared for the job. You and I, Dr. Fleury, are not. We might wish that we were, but the fact remains that we are remnants of a primitive era, who have been far outstripped.

“In other circumstances, you and I might have been justified in thinking of this world as our Ararat: the place in which, for better or for worse, our daughters must grow up and bear children of their own. In the circumstances that actually pertain, it is our duty—however unpleasant—to recognize that if our daughters are to be among the mothers of a new human race, they ought not to take on that role until we are able to make full use of the technologies of twenty-ninth-century Earth in shaping their offspring.”

“I see,” said Matthew, meaning that he understood the argument but needed time to think it over.

“I wish you did,” was Tang’s unexpected rejoinder. “Alas, you have only just begun to see. I, on the other hand, am able not only to see more clearly but also to feelthe true alienness of this world. When you return to Rand Blackstone, he will tell you—scornfully—that I am afraid, and that I have begun to sense menace in every ripple of the river, every cloud in the sky. He is right. I amafraid—but what I fear more than anything else is the insensitivity of men like him. Given time, I am sure that you would learn to see as clearly, and feel as deeply, as myself—but there are those here and in orbit who would far rather press you to reach premature conclusions.”

Matthew hesitated for a moment before saying: “What did Bernal Delgado think?”

“Bernal was an honest scientist,” Tang told him. “He had listened to both sides of the case, and had reserved his judgment—but I must believe, must I not, that he would have seen soon enough that I am right?”

“Are you implying that that was the reason for his murder?”

“I have not the slightest idea why Bernal was murdered,” Tang assured him, “nor have I any idea who might have killed him, in spite of what your friend the policeman thinks.”

“Vince has reserved his judgment too,” Matthew assured him. “If he suggests otherwise, it’s purely for tactical reasons. What difference would it make to your calculation of the logic of the situation if the alien humanoids turned out not to be extinct?”

“As a good Hardinist,” Tang said, letting a little irony into his voice, “I would surely be bound to assume that they were the putative owners of the world, and the best potential stewards of its future development. If there are intelligent aliens here—and if the city-builders still exist, even if they have given up the city-building habit, they must surely be reckoned intelligent—they are entitled to every moral consideration that we would apply to our own kind. This is not 1492, Dr. Fleury; we must learn from our historians as well as our prophets.”

“And what would you do if you found out that someone had been forging alien artifacts, perhaps with a view to persuading others that the aliens were not extinct?”

“I would be very sad to think that anyone would sink to such a subterfuge,” Tang told him.

“Solari’s convinced that Bernal faked the spearhead himself,” Matthew told him, although he knew that Solari would not appreciate his traps being prematurely sprung. “Is there anyone here who feels strongly enough to take violent exception to a discovery like that?”

“I would be very sad to think so,” Tang repeated. There had, of course, been no possibility that he would drop the slightest hint of accusation, even though Rand Blackstone was the man most flagrantly opposed to his own position—and thus might be reckoned to have the most to lose, if anyone did persuade others, dishonestly, that the intelligent aliens were still around.

Matthew thought that was the end of it, until Tang added one more observation. “However sad I may be or may become,” the biochemist said, seeming to pick his words very carefully indeed, “I do wonder how much it really matters who killed Dr. Delgado, or why. Whatever the details of the crime may have been, it is the world and the problems it poses that have shaped his death. No matter what solution your friend may find, the significance of the event remains the same. We came here too hurriedly, Dr. Fleury, and we are ill-equipped for our chosen task. If we cannot decide to be rational and dutiful, there may be many other deaths. We are mortal—and we know now how frail we are by comparison with those who inherited the world we left behind. I only pray that we may use what life we have as cleverly and as carefully as we possibly can.”

The biochemist’s tone was still level, still amiable, still perfectly serious—but for the first time, Matthew felt that he had caught a glimpse of the awful bleakness and devouring fear that had taken hold of the man. There were, apparently, many people at Base One who felt exactly the same. Matthew realized that the situation into which he had been delivered really was far more complicated than he had so far been prepared to assume.