FOUR
Manning's quarters were larger than most of the prefab structures in thenew Earth town; the building was out near the end of one of the streets,a single-storied plastic-and-metal box on a quick-concrete slab base.Well, it was as well constructed as any of the buildings in the Edgeplanetfalls, Rynason reflected as he knocked on the door. And there wasroom for all of the survey team workers.
Manning himself let him in, grabbing his hand in a firm grip thatnevertheless lacked the man's usual heavy joviality. "Come on in; theothers are already here," Manning said, and walked ahead of him into thelarger of the two rooms inside. His step was brisk as always, but therewas a touch of real hurry in it which Rynason noticed immediately.Manning was worried about something.
"All right; we're all set," Manning said, leaning against a wall at thefront of the room. Rynason found a seat on the arm of a chair next toMara and Marc Stoworth, a slightly heavy, blond-haired man in histhirties who wore his hair cut short on the sides but long in back. Helooked like every one of the young corporation executives Rynason hadseen in the outworlds, and probably would have gone into that kind ofposition if he'd had the connections. He certainly seemed out of placeeven among the varied assortment of types who worked the archaeologicaland geological surveys ... but these surveys were conducted by the bigcorporations who were interested in developing the outworlds; probablyStoworth hoped eventually to move up into the lower management officeswhen the corporations moved in.
"Gentlemen, there's something very wrong about these dumb horses we'vebeen dealing with," Manning said. "I'm going to throw out a few facts atyou and see if you don't come to the same conclusions that Larsborg andI did."
Rynason leaned over to Mara and murmured, "What's his problem today?"
But she was frowning. "He's got a real one. Listen."
Manning had picked up a sheaf of typescript from the table next to himand was flipping through it, his lips pursed grimly. "This is the reportI got yesterday from Larsborg here--architecture and various otherartifacts. It's very interesting. Herb, throw that first photo onto thescreen."
The lights went off and the screen in the wall beside Manning lit upwith a reproduction of one of the Hirlaji structures out on the Flat. Itstood in the shadow of an overhanging rock-cliff, protected from theplanet's heavy winds on three sides. Larsborg had apparently set uplights for a clearer picture; the whole building stood out sharplyagainst the shadows of the background.
"This look familiar to any of you?" Manning said quietly.
For a moment Rynason continued to stare uncomprehending at the picture.He had seen a lot of the Hirlaji buildings since they'd landed; this onewas better preserved but not essentially different in design. Larsborghad cleared away most of the dirt and sand which had been packed upagainst its sides, exposing the full height of the structure, and he'dapparently sand-blasted the carved designs over the entrance, but....
Then he realized what he was seeing. The angle of the photo was a bitdifferent than that from which he'd seen the other structure back onTentar XI, but the similarity was unmistakable. This was a reproductionin stone of that same building, the one they'd reconstructed two yearsbefore.
He heard a wave of voices growing around the room, and Manning's voicecut-through it with: "That's right, gentlemen: it's an Outsidersbuilding. It's not in that crazy, damned metal or alloy or whatever itwas that they used, but it's the same design. Take a good long look atit before we go on to the next photo."
Rynason looked ... closely. Yes, it was the same design a bit cruder,and the carvings weren't the same, but the lines of the doorway and thecornice....
The next picture flashed onto the screen. It was a closeup of thedesigns over the entrance, shot in sharp relief so that they stood outstarkly. The room was so quiet that Rynason could hear the hum behindthe screen in the wall.
"That's Outsiders stuff too," said Breune. "It's not quite the same,though ... distorted."
"It's carved in stone, not stamped in metal," Manning said. "It's thesame thing, all right. Anybody disagree?"
No one did.
"All right, then; let's have the lights back up again."
The lights came on and once more there was a murmur of talking aroundthe room. Rynason shifted his position on the seat and tried to catchthe thought that had slipped through his mind just before the screen hadfaded. There was another similarity.... Well, he'd seen a lot of theOutsider buildings in the past few years; it wasn't necessary to traceall the evidences right now.
"What I want to know is, why didn't any of the rest of you see this?"said Manning angrily. "Have you all got plastic for brains? Over a dozenmen spend weeks researching these damn horsefaces, and only one of youhas the sense to see the evidence of his own eyes!"
"Maybe we should turn in our spades," said Stoworth.
Manning glared at him. "Maybe you should, if you think this isn'tserious. Let's get this clear: these old horsefaces that so many of youthink are just as quaint as can be have been building in exactly thesame style as the Outsiders. Quaint, are they? Harmless too, I suppose!"
He stood with his hands on his hips, dropped his head and took a long,deep breath. When he looked up again his forehead was furrowed into anintense frown. "Gentlemen ... as I call you from force of habit ...we've been finding dead cities of the Outsiders for centuries. They wereall over God knows how many galaxies before your ancestors or mine hadstopped playing with their tails; as far as we can tell they had acivilization as tightly-knit as our own, and probably stronger. Andsometime about forty thousand years ago they started pulling out. Theyleft absolutely nothing behind but empty buildings and a few crumblingbits of machinery. And we've been following those remains ever since wegot out of our own star-system.
"Well, we just may have found them at last. Right here, on Hirlaj. Nowwhat do you think of that?"
No one said anything for a minute. Rynason looked down at Mara, caughther smile, and stood up.
"I don't think the Hirlaji are the Outsiders," he said calmly.
Manning shot a sharp glance at him. "You saw the photos."
"Yes, I saw them. That's Outsiders work, all right, or something a lotlike it. But it doesn't necessarily prove that these ... how many ofthem are there? Twenty-five? I don't think these creatures are theOutsiders. We've traced their history back practically to the point ofcomplete barbarism. Their culture was never once high enough to get themoff this planet, let alone to let them spread all over among the stars."
Manning waited for him to finish, then he turned back to the rest of themen in the room and spread his hands. "Now that, gentlemen, just showshow much we've found out so far." He looked over at Rynason again. "Hasit occurred to you, Lee, that if these horses _are_ the Outsiders, thatmaybe they know a little more than we do? I suppose you're going to sayyou had a telepathic hookup with one of them and you didn't see a thingto make you suspicious ... but just remember that they've been usingtelepathy for several thousand years and that you hardly know whatyou're doing when you try it.
"Look, I don't trust them--if they're the Outsiders they've got maybe ahundred thousand years head-start on us scientifically. There may beonly a couple dozen of them, but we don't know how strong they are."
"That's if they're really the Outsiders," said Rynason.
Manning nodded his head impatiently. "Yes, that's what I'm saying. Ifthey're the Outsiders, which looks like a sensible conclusion. Or do youhave a better one?"
"Well, I don't know if it's better," said Rynason. "It may not even beas attractive, for that matter. But have you considered that maybe whenthe Outsiders pulled out of our area they simply moved on elsewhere?We're so used to seeing dead cities that we think automatically that theOutsiders must be dead too, which I suppose is what's bothering youabout finding the Hirlaji here alive. But it might be worse. That wholeempire could simply have moved on to this area; we could be on the edgeof it right now, ready to run head-on into a hundred star systems justcrowded with the Outsiders."
/> Manning stared at him, and the expression on his face was not quiteanger. Something like it, but not anger.
"The ruins we've found here were built by the Hirlaji," Rynason said. "Isaw them building when I was linked with Horng, and these are the samestructures. But the design was copied from older buildings, and I don'tknow how far back I'd have to search the memories before I found wherethey originally got that kind of approach to design. Maybe back beforethey developed telepathy. But this race simply isn't as old as theOutsiders; they came out of barbarism thousands of years after theOutsiders had left those dead cities we've been finding. The chances arethat if the Hirlaji were influenced by the Outsiders it was sometimearound thirty thousand years ago ... which means the Outsiders came thisway when they left those cities. That would mean that we're followingthem ... and we might catch up at any time."
He stopped for a moment, then said, "We're moving faster than they were,and we have no idea where they may have settled again. One more starfallfurther beyond the Edge, and we may run into one of their presentoutposts. But this isn't it. Not yet."
Manning was still staring at Rynason, but it was a curious stare."You're pretty sure that what you've been getting out of thathorseface's head is real?" he asked levelly. "You trust them?"
Rynason nodded. "Horng was really afraid; that was real. I felt itmyself. And the rest of it was real, too--I could see the whole racialmemory there, and nobody could have been making that up. If you'dexperienced that..."
"Well, I didn't," Manning said shortly. "And I don't think I trustthem." He paused, and after a moment frowned. "But this direct linkagebusiness does seem to be the best way we have of checking on them. Iwant you to get busy, Lee, and go after that horse's thoughts for us.Don't let him drive you out again; if he's hiding something, get inthere and see what it is. Above all, don't trust him.
"If these things are the Outsiders, they could be bluffing us."
Manning stopped talking, and thought a minute. He looked up under raisedeyebrows at Rynason. "And be careful, Lee. I'm counting on you."
Rynason ignored his paternal gaze, and turned instead to Mara. "We'lltry it again tomorrow," he said. "Get in a requisition for a telepatherthis afternoon; make sure we'll have one ready to go first thing in themorning. I'll check back with you about an hour after we leave heretoday."
She looked up at him, surprised. "Check back? Why?"
"I put in a requisition myself, yesterday. Wine from Cluster II, vintage'86. I was hoping for some company."
She smiled. "All right."
Manning was ending the session. "...Carl, be sure to get those studiesof the Outsiders artifacts together for me by tonight. And I'm going tohand back your reports to each of the rest of you; go through them andwatch for those inconsistencies you skipped over the first time. We maybe able to turn up something else that doesn't check out. Go over them_carefully_--all the reports were sloppy jobs. You're all trying to worktoo fast."
Rynason rose with the rest of them, grinning as he remembered howManning had rushed those reports. Well, that was one of the privilegesof authority: delegating fault. He started for the door.
"Lee! Hold it a minute; I want to talk to you, alone."
Rynason sat, and when all the others had gone Manning came back and satdown opposite him. He slowly took out a cigaret and lit it.
"My last pack till the next spacer makes touchdown," he said. "Sorry Ican't offer you one, but I'm a fiend for the things. I know they'resupposed to be non-habit-forming these days, but I'm a man of manyvices."
Rynason shrugged, waiting for him to come to the point.
"I guess it makes me a bit more open-minded about what the members of mystaff do," Manning went on. "You know--why should I crack down ondrinking or smoking, for instance, when I do it myself?"
"I'm glad you see it that way," Rynason said drily. "Why did you want meto stay?"
Manning exhaled a long plume of smoke slowly, watching it throughnarrowed eyes. "Well, even though I'm pretty easy going about things, Ido try to keep an eye on you. When you come right down to it, I'mresponsible for every man who's with me out here." He stopped, andlaughed shortly. "Not that I'm as altruistic as that sounds, ofcourse--you know me, Lee. But when you're in a position of authority youhave to face the responsibilities. You understand me?"
"You have to protect your own reputation back at Cluster headquarters,"Rynason said.
"Well, yes. Of course, you get into a pattern of thinking eventually ...sort of a fatherly feeling, I suppose, though I've never even been onthe parentage rolls back on the in-worlds. But I mean it--it happens, Iget that feeling. And I'm getting a bit worried about you, Lee."
Rynason could see what was coming now. He sat further back into thechair and said, "Why?"
Manning frowned with concern. "I've been noticing you with Mara lately.You seem pretty interested in her."
"Is she one of those vices you were telling me about, Manning?" saidRynason quietly. "You want to warn me to stay away from her?"
Manning shook his head, a quick gesture dismissing the idea. "No, Lee,not at all. She's not that kind of a woman. And that's my point. I cansee how you look at her, and you're on the wrong track. When you're outhere on the Edge, you don't want a wife."
"What I need is some good healthy vice, is that what you mean?"
Manning sat forward. "That puts it pretty clearly. Yeah, that's aboutit. Lee, you're building up some strong tensions on this job, and don'tthink I'm not aware of it. Telepathing with that horseface is gettingrough, judging from what you've told me. I think you should go get goodand drunk and kick up hell tonight. And take one of the town women;they're always available. Do you good, I mean it."
Rynason stood up. "Maybe tomorrow night," he said. "Tonight I'm busy.With Mara." He turned and walked toward the door.
"I'd suggest you get busy with someone else," Manning said quietlybehind him. "I'm really telling you this for your own good, believe itor not."
Rynason turned at the door and regarded the man coldly. "She's notinterested in you, Manning," he said. He went out and shut the doorcalmly behind him.
Manning could be irritating with his conceited posing, but his veiledthreats didn't bother Rynason. In any case, he had something else on hismind just now. He had finally remembered what it had been about thecarvings over the Hirlaji building in the photo that had touched amemory within him: there was a strong similarity to the carvings that hehad seen, through Tebron's eyes, outside the Temple of Kor. The symbolsof Kor, Tebron had called them ... copied from the works of the OldOnes.
The Outsiders?