They were once able to alter their own imprintings. To write changes in their carbon kind.
They lost it as we\you diminished them. Now they are the same as the unthinking forms, the animals—shaped by random forces.
They were once important players here. We\You should understand their threat to us before expunging them.
Possibly they harbor information harmful to us\you—so say our most stable records.
Those are sheltered against the Mass Eater’s radiant storm and so should be well preserved.
By its nature we\you cannot know what this hidden information is.
Why “by its nature”?
There are many theories.
Precisely. Does it not seem curious that something in our\your makeup makes it somehow impossible for us\you to know what these humans carry? That such knowledge is blocked for us? A curious aspect of our deep programming.
May carry. Such ancient records are suspect.
We\You cannot risk disbelieving them.
Long ago the philosopher [|~] resolved such questions. We\You are imprisoned within our perception-space. There will always remain matters you\we cannot know.
But if these matters affect ourselves? Disquieting.
Living with ambiguity is the nature of high intelligence. Still, to lessen uncertainty we\you should exterminate the remaining bands.
And lose their information?
Very well—archive them first. I now point to this latest incursion— already it nears True Center.
There may be risks in erasing them.
Nonsense. You\We have destroyed many such expeditions before.
First, let scouts find them accurately. The usual primate-hunter units will track them, perhaps inflict minor damage—one must give such lower forms some reward structure, remember.
You/We advocate delay?
No—cautious action. Remember that higher forms than us will judge our\your actions. Prudence demands care. Earlier events involving these primates, on two separate planets, have pointed toward some significant yet poorly defined role they play. They may carry information—and what are they, but information? Indeed, what are we?—which can bring the attentions of minds above ours.
Very well, caution. But how?
A trap.
PART ONE
Far Antiquity
ONE
Techno-Nomads
Toby had barely gotten back inside the air lock and was shedding his suit when Cermo showed up. Toby wore nothing but shorts under his vacuum suit, and the ship felt colder than outside. He rummaged in his locker for his overalls, shivering, and Cermo said, “Where you been?”
“Where’s it look?”
The big man towered over Toby. Cermo had been called Cermo-the-Slow in years past, but now was leaner and quicker. A broad grin seemed to divide his face in half with delighted anticipation. “Heard all the ruckus. Cap’n found us somethin’ to eat, right?”
“We’ll see.”
“Doesn’t change anything for you, though,” Cermo said with a sly chuckle. He was a big man with a soft-eyed, mirthful face, so the chuckle carried no malice.
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re on maintenance detail today.”
“So? Okay, I’ll check the biotanks, the usual.”
“Today’s not usual.” Again the sly grin.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sewage seals broke.”
“Again? No fair! They went out last time I was on maintenance, too.”
“Well then, you’re an expert.” Cermo handed Toby a mop. “Apply your know-how.”
