Kinder des Schicksals 4 (Xeelee 9): Resplendent

conical. Sool
told the visitors the buildings were modelled after the tents the
first colonists here had used for shelter. ’A kind of memorial to the
First,’ he said. But Sool’s home, with big windows cut into the
sloping roof, was surprisingly roomy and well lit. There were traces
of art. On one wall hung a kind of schematic portrait, a few lines to
depict a human face, lit from below by a warm yellow light.
    Sool had them sit on cushions of what turned out to be stuffed
animal hide, to Pala’s horror. In fact everything seemed to be made
of wood or animal skin. But these people could generate Virtuals,
Pala reminded herself; they weren’t as low tech as they seemed.
    Sool confirmed that. ’When the First found this masked star they
created the machinery that still sustains us - the dome, the mirror
towers, the hidden machines that filter our air and water. We must
maintain the machines, and we go out to bring in more water ice or
frozen air.’ He eyed his visitors. ’You must not think we are fallen.
We are surely as technologically capable as our ancestors. But every
day we acknowledge our debt to the wisdom and heroic engineering of
the First.’ As he said this, he touched his palms together and nodded
his head reverently, and Bicansa did the same.
    Pala and Dano exchanged a glance. Ancestor worship?
    A slim, pretty teenage girl brought them drinks of pulped fruit.
The girl was Sool’s ’daughter’; it turned out his ’wife’ had died
some years previously. Thanks to her training Pala was familiar with
such terms. The drinks were served in pottery cups, elegantly shaped
and painted deep blue, with more inverted-sunburst designs. Pala
wondered what dye they used to create such a rich blue.
    Dano watched the daughter as she politely set a cup before himself
and Bicansa; these colonists knew Virtual etiquette. Dano said, ’You
obviously live in nuclear families.’
    ’And you don’t?’ Bicansa asked curiously.
    ’Nuclear families are a classic feature of Second Expansion
cultures. You are typical of your era.’ Pala smiled brightly, trying
to be reassuring, but Bicansa’s face was cold.
    Dano asked Sool, ’And you are the leader of this community? ’
    Sool shook his head. ’We are few, Missionary. I’m leader of
nothing but my own family, and even that only by my daughter’s grace!
After your scouts’ first visit the Assembly asked me to speak for
them. I believe I’m held in high regard; I believe I’m trusted. But
I’m a delegate, not a leader. Bicansa represents her own people in
the same way. We have to work together to survive; I’m sure that’s
obvious. In a sense we’re all a single extended family here…’
    Pala murmured to Dano, ’Eusocial, you think? The lack of a
hierarchy, an elite?’ Eusociality - hive living - had been found to
be a common if unwelcome social outcome in crowded, resource-starved
colonies.
    Dano shook his head. ’No. The population density’s nowhere near
high enough.’
    Bicansa was watching them. ’You are talking about us. Assessing
us.’
    ’That’s our job,’ Dano said levelly.
    ’Yes, I’ve learned about your job,’ Bicansa snapped. ’Your mighty
Third Expansion that sweeps across the stars. You’re here to
assimilate us, aren’t you?’
    ’Not at all,’ Pala said earnestly. It was true. The Assimilation
was a separate programme, designed to process the alien species
encountered by the Third Expansion wavefront. Pala worked for a
parallel agency, the Office of Cultural Rehabilitation which, though
controlled by the same wing of the Commission for Historical Truth as
the Assimilation, was intended to handle relic human societies
implanted by earlier colonisation waves, similarly encountered by the
Expansion. ’My mission is to welcome you back to a unified mankind.
To introduce you to the Druz Doctrines which shape all our
actions.’
    Bicansa wasn’t impressed. Her anger flared, obviously pent up.
’Your arrogance is dismaying,’ she said. ’You’ve only just landed
here, only just come swooping down from the sky. You’re confronted by
a distinct culture five thousand years old. We have our own
tradition, literature, art - even our own language, after all this
time. And yet you think you can make a judgement on us
immediately.’
    ’Our judgement on your culture, or your lack of it, doesn’t
matter,’ said Dano. ’Our mission is specific.’
    ’Yes. You’re here to enslave us.’
    Sool said tiredly, ’Now, Bicansa