Way 3 - Legacy by Greg Bear

Author:Greg Bear [Bear, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Science Fiction, Fiction, Fiction - Science Fiction, Science Fiction - General, Science Fiction & Fantasy
ISBN: 9780812524819
Publisher: Tor Science Fiction
Published: 1996-04-28T23:00:00+00:00

"The spring _and_ the pond. The orphans. Every so often, sitting here, I smell the faintest traces of hydrogen sulfide. The pool is mildly acidic."

"I've tried not to advance opinions ahead of time..." I said.

"Yes?" Salap encouraged.

"We know so little about what an ecos needs to survive."

"I suspect we think along the same lines, Ser Olmy," Salap said, using the respectful form with me for the first time. He waggled his fingers, encouraging more.

"Vulcanism has died here. Mount Jiddermeyer was the last volcano to die. In time, the ecos would leach out whatever trace elements it needs -- "

"Chromium, selenium, cobalt, zinc, manganese," Salap suggested. "All found in scion tissues in stable concentrations, whatever the ecos, but seldom found in native soils."

"And for an isolated ecos like Martha, there's no place else to go."

"She withers," Salap said. "But this spring..." He dipped his toe again.

"The last source of trace elements. A small fissure below ground, still warm."

"She leaves her orphans here," Salap said. "Perhaps for Nimzhian? A last gift between friends?" He sighed, the closest to sentiment I had seen him come.

I matched Salap's pensive silence for a while.

He looked up, dark eyes steady. "My greatest regret, living on Lamarckia, is the poverty of intellectual variety. It might take us several more generations to build a base of intellect sufficient to understand Lamarckia, to solve the biggest puzzles. When intellect is found, we cannot afford to ignore it." He turned away and pulled his feet from the pond. "I will convince the captain."

The captain had for the past two days been spending most of his time on the ship, taking advantage of unusual radio conditions and listening with some concern to messages between Hsia and Elizabeth's Land. He hadn't revealed the content of these messages to anyone but Randall, but Randall seemed twitchy and drawn as well. It did not take much foresight to recognize signs of growing tension in the small but extended political world of the immigrants.

The pools in the palace chambers had turned dark and opaque with debris from the leaking, brittle walls. One apprentice, Scop, had fallen into the pool when a wall collapsed, giving Randall the idea of cutting holes in the chamber walls to drain them, creating a kind of canal across the bottom of the palace.

I helped set filters to catch solid debris, and Salap took samples of the liquid in all the chambers before the breaching began. The water smelled of mud, coldly musty.

I spent half my time the next week ashore, and half on the boat, where my new status caused some ribbing among the crew, good-natured and otherwise. Shirla was polite, but little more. Was I above her, or still equal to her, in rank? Would I shun a mere A.B., even one with scientific pretensions?

For my part, I was much too busy to do more than sleep and eat on ship, and make preparations for the next trip to the island.

Around a cold camp dinner on the island one

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