The Silka
Chapter Five
Ther'lin dropped out of d-space and slipped easily into orbit around Silka, the fifth planet in a solar system rotating around twinned G5 suns. Behind her Aaru settled into orbit as well, a bit above her while she scanned as far as she could reach, making sure they hadn't reacquired their followers or been found by new ones. Then she sounded the soft ships bells, alerting McGee they'd arrived. Not, she thought to herself, that he needed telling. But it didn't hurt, it kept things routine and it also woke up Zaf who'd been pestering her for information about Eden the whole trip. Eden was no one's business but McGee's. The Silka, though...they were a different story.
McGee heard the bells in his cabin where he was lying on his bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, something he'd done a lot of during the trip. He was so used to the loneliness that he never noticed it anymore unless something touched it, made it swell and throb. Something like seeing Eden. Here, alone in his cabin, away from Zaf and his curiosity he'd been battling it back under control in preparation for seeing her again, and on Silka where he'd left her because that's what she'd wanted. And, he admitted, in preparation for when he'd leave her here again, after the Silka were well. He had no expectation that anything had changed in the time since he'd brought her here. He didn't expect the next few days would change anything either. All he could do was hope that he could get through it without making a fool of himself by betraying to her or anyone else how he felt about her.
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as the bells faded into silence. He knew Ther'lin was worried about him. He suspected Zaf suspected he ought to be as well. He was pretty sure that Marc and Dinah had a fairly clear idea what the situation with him was but whatever curiosity they felt they'd contain it rather than pry. He had no such illusions about Zaf. He sighed again and sat up. "Ther'lin?"
"Yes."
"I assume they know we've arrived. Are you in touch with them?"
"I sent a message. They said someone would come to talk to you."
"Okay. Ask Aaru to ask Marc and Dinah to come aboard. We can use the smaller lounge off the bridge."
"And Zaf?" Ther'lin asked.
"Him too."
"McGee..." she began in a different tone of voice only to be interrupted before she could get any further.
"I'm fine sweetheart. And whatever happens I'll be okay, just like always," he said as he stood up headed for the shower.
Ther'lin took the hint and said, "I'll make sure there's coffee and food ready for you," she promised. "Be sure to shave."
McGee grinned. "Why? We gonna be kissing each other?"
"You never know," she said and left him to his ablutions.
He was in the lounge, using food to avoid Zaf's questions when Marc and Dinah arrived. A reprieve, but not permanent he knew. He waved at the coffee. "Help yourself," he said. "The Silka are sending someone. There's plenty of food if you're hungry," he added, taking another bite of his eggs.
Marc, dying of curiosity, contained his questions and instead helped himself to the food. And coffee. He saw to Dinah's needs and once she'd sat he sat near Zaf.
"Aaru tells me she's sensed nothing of our shadows. Not yet anyway."
"Ther'lin's quite happy about that," Zaf reported. "Not that she talks that much to me, you understand, but I can generally tell from McGee's face whether things are good to go."
"Feeling snubbed, are you?" McGee asked.
"A bit," Zaf replied with a grin, totally unbowed.
"They haven't taken any shots at Aaru, so perhaps they aren't quite as secretive as you thought," Marc commented.
"They wouldn't need to shoot," McGee replied. "Whoever they send, what you will see will be to make it easier for you, rather like the Lylmik in that regard. It will be, basically, a dream projection of an image animated by the consciousness of whoever it is. Like Eden was the other night," he added, glancing at Marc as he said it.
"I'm not particularly surprised to learn that," Marc said equitably. "Makes sense. Many beings feel the need to hide their true selves. Such as the Lylmik. But they won't be able to continue with that particular strategy if they need help. If only to show themselves to the healers."
"A point I'm sure they'll grasp," McGee said, passing Dinah the toast. "They are an extremely courteous people, placing a high premium on civility and respect. They maintain a firm boundary between the public and the private. Their society is hierarchical, but not rigidly so. They will interact with us from that perspective."
"All right. I guess I should have worn my tux," Marc said raising an eyebrow at Dinah.
She shook her head ever so slightly and offered him the coffee pot. "What you're saying," she said to McGee, "is to be polite, let them take the lead and don't call them by their first names until they invite us to do so."
"Basically," McGee said. "At least at first. Once they accept you they are very friendly. They are highly intelligent, curious and remarkably compassionate. Very likable in fact."
"Even toward us lowly humans. Good to know," Marc replied lightly. Zaf snorted.
"Lowly humans?"
"The ones not ready for prime time," Marc explained. "Safe inside our box."
McGee shook his head and poured himself another cup of coffee. "Tell me, do you consider humanity ready? As a species?"
"Ready for what?" Marc asked. "And who gets to decide? Who gets to say what 'ready' means. I used to think I did, you see, so I've some experience with the whole evolution in aid of becoming 'ready' argument."
"Well you're the one that described it as the prime time. Ultimately though it will be humanity that says it's ready. The box isn't to keep you in but them out." He looked at Marc for a moment. "But I suppose you resent that as well."
"I wouldn't call it resentment. I'm just over the whole deciding what species is worthwhile saving and which ones aren't. I'm just a laissez-faire kind of guy these days is all. And yes, you did say it was to keep folks out. Which, generally speaking, only means they try that much harder to get in."
"True. Unfortunately. Still, it should be obvious that the idea behind this is that no one is competent to decide that other than the species themselves," McGee said.
"Really? How so?"
McGee sat back in his chair. "Okay, I'll play along. Start with the fact that there was no decision tree over which species should be inside and which shouldn't. They didn't even ask the question. The only reason they would intervene is if it looked like one species was about to destroy another. Otherwise it's entirely up to you what happens."
"Well, I'd dispute your first statement. There must have been some decision made with regard to what was inside, if only to decide the size of the protected habitat. As for the comment regarding intervention, see, there it is. Someone decides what is all right and what isn't. It isn't that I think it's a bad idea, it's just that if you're going to play god then at least admit that's what's happening. Set your default conditions, your variables and your outcome predictions and see who's right. And try not to have a premature end to the experiment before your predictions are proven or disproven."
Marc frowned. "It isn't like I'm not sympathetic. It's just that I've already done this exercise and it just never comes out very well no matter what."
"Okay," McGee said. "Then you figure out a better solution.
"Haven't got one," Marc admitted. "You act like a god to protect the species until they reach some agreed upon plateau, or you stand aside and let them get eaten by the bigger predator in the area. It's a thankless task and an impossible choice. But then what do I know. You're only telling me bits and pieces and I'm trying to figure out the rest. Since I don't have all the data I'm just accepting what you've said. But you asked, so I gave you the view from my own experience. I hope this works out better."
"And your view is that trying to prevent interference is playing God? I guess the difference between us is I don't see it that way. If I see a bullet headed your way and step in to deflect it is that playing God? Especially if I know that you're helpless to do it for yourself?" McGee asked. "I tend to view that as responsible and caring, not as arrogant, god-like or paternalistic. But then maybe it's that you see this as an experiment and my view is that it's in the nature of a rescue."
Marc nodded. "I've got nothing whatever against rescues. That's why we're here, right? To help a species in need?"
"But that doesn't answer the question I asked."
Marc frowned for a moment. "It's like Earth. Advanced civilizations stepped in to help the natives. Never worked. Even with the best of intentions. Humans are a rotten lot. We lay there starving, someone comes in with food and medicine and what do we do? We resent it all. Sad part of our genetics I think. Doesn't mean it isn't worth the effort, you just have to remember that not everyone sees things the way you do.
"With luck, they'll be in the same situation in the future and hit themselves on the side of the head and go, 'oi!'."
Marc eyed McGee. "Really. I think I understand where you're coming from. Where they are coming from."
"Ultimately I'm not sure it matters much if you do or not. Particularly since your personal goal, immediate and long range, is to get out of the box, no matter what, is it not?"
Marc grinned. "Can't blame me. Wanna see the other side."
"I don't blame you. I'd probably feel the same in your situation. But keep in mind, when you achieve that goal, that you and she are light years ahead of the rest of humanity."
Dinah tilted her head at him suddenly. "Did you know Mac?"
"Yes. Extremely well. We spent a lot of time together out on the Rim."
"Oh why am I not surprised," she said. "I should have guessed long before this."
Zaf laughed. "McGee knows everyone."
"And who do you know?" Marc asked him.
"I'm just the sidekick. I take names."
"Poppycock," Dinah said.
Zaf cocked his head and regarded her. "Not exactly poppycock, Dinah. I don't have a goal. McGee's the one with that."
"Who the hell cares about that? But you pretending to be Jerry Lewis to his Dean Martin doesn't cut it at all."
"I had more Watson and Holmes in mind myself," Zaf replied grinning.
"Don't flatter yourself," she said. "I might, if pressed, go Bob Hope to his Bing Crosby. Certainly I can see the similarities to the 'On the Road to...' movies."
"They're requesting permission to board," Ther'lin said.
"More than one?" McGee asked.
"Yes. Kle'klit and M'nala."
"Tell them they're welcome to board."
As resistant as Marc had seemed to the whole idea of what the Silka were involved with, he stood as the two beings began to materialize, and looked polite if a bit distant. He stood beside Dinah, controlling his curiosity and waiting for an introduction.
McGee rose as well, a smile on his face. "Welcome aboard. It has been too long since last we met."
The taller one inclined his head. "Indeed. May I introduce my companion?"
McGee nodded. "As I would like to do with mine," he replied.
"This is my clan-mate, M'nala. M'nala, this is Jack McGee, an old friend who gave us the joy of having Eden'MacAshlish among us."
She inclined her head. "I have heard much of you, sir. It is an honor to finally meet you."
"It is I who am honored to meet you," McGee said. "And if I may, these are also friends of mine who I hope may become friends of yours. Marc and Dinah Siolastre, House Siol'Ster and the other gentleman is my co-pilot, Zaf." Then he turned and said, "This is Kle'klit, Master Dreamer of Clan Seti Targa as it is said in English and, as he said, his clan-mate M'nala."
Marc and Dinah both nodded. "Thank you for allowing us to come with Jack and Zaf. I hope we can be of some slight help," Marc offered.
"Ther'lin conveyed to us your offer," Kle'klit said.
"Why don't you join us and tell us what's going on?" McGee said, gesturing to the table. "Eden didn't say much when we spoke the other night. I gathered she was pressed for time."
"There are fewer of us than there were," Kle'klit agreed, holding a chair for M'nala before taking his own seat. "That is the problem. We couldn't sustain her for very long."
"Then what about...?" McGee asked quickly.
"All is well, my friend. We won't let you down."
McGee nodded, relieved. "So tell me. Eden said you were dying, of something she likened to a virus and you end up trapped in the dream."
"It reaches a point," M'nala said, "where the Dreamers can not avoid the dream. And once in it they can not get out. It becomes a nightmare, the cocoon a torture chamber and they tear themselves apart to escape."
"She is the Master Physician for our Clan," Kle'klit said. "It is the same with all the Clans Dreamers. At first it was just the Hopeful Ones and it progressed from there. Yesterday we lost a Master Dreamer from Clan Kara Logos."
"Eden says they sicken first?" McGee said.
"Yes. A minor ailment, we thought. And they seemed to recover. But then they would sicken again, becoming disoriented, acutely sensitive to sensory input such as light or sound. Escalating pain and then growing incoherence with exhaustion. Finally, they become unconscious and in that state they spin the cocoon and enter the Dream," M'nala explained. "We've tried opening the cocoon, as we would with a Hopeful One who loses control, but when we do..."
"It's horrible, Jack," Kle'klit said. No matter how soon we do it after the Dream begins, they continue on when it's opened. They tear themselves to shreds."
"They're dreaming outside the cocoons?" McGee asked, stunned. "But that's not possible."
"So we've always thought. So now when they begin to spin the cocoon we are trying to stop them. But it is a constant battle and doesn't always work because, as you know, to do that is so dangerous." Kle'klit spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "That is why Eden suggested we contact you."
"What about the infants?" McGee asked.
"It hasn't reached a point where they are being impacted," he answered. "But if we can not stop this we will be faced with an impossible choice. Whether to dream to save them or not to dream to save ourselves."
"I think," Marc said quietly, "you need to explain to me, in a bit more detail, exactly what you mean."
McGee looked at Kle'klit. "He and Dinah were there when Eden came. He has offered his healers to see if they can help. I've told him very little. Other than these two no one else on their ship even knows where we are. Their ship, Aaru doesn't either."
"I see," Kle'klit said. He turned fully towards Marc, openly scrutinizing him. "You think your healers can help?".
"I don't know. But it is worth a try, isn't it?" Marc asked. "And if they cannot help, I have friends we can call upon. From the sound of it, you are reaching out. We're friends of Jack's and we are offering to do all we can."
Kle'klit held his eyes for an infinitely long moment, saying nothing. Then he smiled faintly. "What do you need from us?"
"Samples of your biological make-up, and I'd like, if it is at all possible, for my healers to see what you are describing," Marc replied quietly. "They need to fully understand what it is you are dealing with."
"What sort of samples?" M'nala asked.
"DNA, or other sorts of biological markers that we can analyze," Marc replied. "Your biochemistry, genetics, that sort of thing."
"Mr. Siolastre we are a very private people. We do not readily expose ourselves to outsiders. If we were to give you those things then you would have to give me your word of honor, speaking not just for yourself but also for your company that it and all the data you realize from it will be returned to us before you leave and that you and they will never speak of these things to others."
Marc eyed the alien for some time. "It is easy to give one's word. It is harder to understand the needs behind a request. If we ourselves cannot solve the problem then I will have to consult others to find you the help you need. I will promise that who you are and where you are need not be shared at all. The problem, and how to solve it, however, might entail more than just my ship's company. But I do promise you that your secrets will be preserved as much as is possible."
Kle'klit rose from his seat, a signal for M'nala to stand too. "Once you know us, Mr. Siolastre, the reasons will be self evident. You and your mate and your healers are welcome on Silka. But no one else, not even your dragons. I apologize for being unable to be more hospitable at this time."
Marc, standing, nodded. "I accept and understand the limitations. They seem quite reasonable under the circumstances."
Kle'klit smiled faintly. "When you're ready, Mr. McGee knows where to bring you." He looked at Dinah and then turned his attention back to Marc. "I am more grateful than I can tell you for you willingness to help us. No matter what the outcome we are in your debt."
"We are two species finding a solution to a common problem. Let there be no talk of debts. It was a pleasure to meet you Kle'klit and, M'nala. I only hope we can help you."
"As was meeting you," he said and then they were gone.
Dinah watched the dust motes in the air resettle themselves. "Well?" she said, addressing Marc. "What do you think?"
"I've no idea. They didn't give us much to go on," Marc replied frowning at Jack McGee.
"They aren't scientists," McGee said. "At least not in the concrete. Until you see them, as they live their lives, the cycles of it, they are almost impossible to understand. Even then it can be difficult to accept the choices they made and why they made them."
Marc shrugged. "Most choices aren't made with logic but based on emotions and needs. We'll go collect Max and Kalket and rejoin you when you call for us."
"When ever you're ready," McGee said, "just rejoin us here."
"Fine, that works for me. Shouldn't take that long. Dinah, you ready?" Marc asked, turning to her.
She nodded and took his hand, letting him zap them back to Aaru. When they got there she said, "Now, what do you really think?"
"I don't know," Marc replied thoughtfully. "Too little data for me to try to speculate. Cocoons and master dreamers... A virus or some sort of infectious agent killing them while they are dreaming... I'd say it sounds fascinating if we weren't talking about beings apparently in a great deal of pain and misery."
"Yeah. Kal and Max are waiting in the infirmary," she said. "I'll break the news to Laz and Kalie while you go get them if you like."
"Oh have fun with Laz and Kalie. Meet you back here in about half an hour."
McGee heard the bells in his cabin where he was lying on his bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, something he'd done a lot of during the trip. He was so used to the loneliness that he never noticed it anymore unless something touched it, made it swell and throb. Something like seeing Eden. Here, alone in his cabin, away from Zaf and his curiosity he'd been battling it back under control in preparation for seeing her again, and on Silka where he'd left her because that's what she'd wanted. And, he admitted, in preparation for when he'd leave her here again, after the Silka were well. He had no expectation that anything had changed in the time since he'd brought her here. He didn't expect the next few days would change anything either. All he could do was hope that he could get through it without making a fool of himself by betraying to her or anyone else how he felt about her.
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as the bells faded into silence. He knew Ther'lin was worried about him. He suspected Zaf suspected he ought to be as well. He was pretty sure that Marc and Dinah had a fairly clear idea what the situation with him was but whatever curiosity they felt they'd contain it rather than pry. He had no such illusions about Zaf. He sighed again and sat up. "Ther'lin?"
"Yes."
"I assume they know we've arrived. Are you in touch with them?"
"I sent a message. They said someone would come to talk to you."
"Okay. Ask Aaru to ask Marc and Dinah to come aboard. We can use the smaller lounge off the bridge."
"And Zaf?" Ther'lin asked.
"Him too."
"McGee..." she began in a different tone of voice only to be interrupted before she could get any further.
"I'm fine sweetheart. And whatever happens I'll be okay, just like always," he said as he stood up headed for the shower.
Ther'lin took the hint and said, "I'll make sure there's coffee and food ready for you," she promised. "Be sure to shave."
McGee grinned. "Why? We gonna be kissing each other?"
"You never know," she said and left him to his ablutions.
He was in the lounge, using food to avoid Zaf's questions when Marc and Dinah arrived. A reprieve, but not permanent he knew. He waved at the coffee. "Help yourself," he said. "The Silka are sending someone. There's plenty of food if you're hungry," he added, taking another bite of his eggs.
Marc, dying of curiosity, contained his questions and instead helped himself to the food. And coffee. He saw to Dinah's needs and once she'd sat he sat near Zaf.
"Aaru tells me she's sensed nothing of our shadows. Not yet anyway."
"Ther'lin's quite happy about that," Zaf reported. "Not that she talks that much to me, you understand, but I can generally tell from McGee's face whether things are good to go."
"Feeling snubbed, are you?" McGee asked.
"A bit," Zaf replied with a grin, totally unbowed.
"They haven't taken any shots at Aaru, so perhaps they aren't quite as secretive as you thought," Marc commented.
"They wouldn't need to shoot," McGee replied. "Whoever they send, what you will see will be to make it easier for you, rather like the Lylmik in that regard. It will be, basically, a dream projection of an image animated by the consciousness of whoever it is. Like Eden was the other night," he added, glancing at Marc as he said it.
"I'm not particularly surprised to learn that," Marc said equitably. "Makes sense. Many beings feel the need to hide their true selves. Such as the Lylmik. But they won't be able to continue with that particular strategy if they need help. If only to show themselves to the healers."
"A point I'm sure they'll grasp," McGee said, passing Dinah the toast. "They are an extremely courteous people, placing a high premium on civility and respect. They maintain a firm boundary between the public and the private. Their society is hierarchical, but not rigidly so. They will interact with us from that perspective."
"All right. I guess I should have worn my tux," Marc said raising an eyebrow at Dinah.
She shook her head ever so slightly and offered him the coffee pot. "What you're saying," she said to McGee, "is to be polite, let them take the lead and don't call them by their first names until they invite us to do so."
"Basically," McGee said. "At least at first. Once they accept you they are very friendly. They are highly intelligent, curious and remarkably compassionate. Very likable in fact."
"Even toward us lowly humans. Good to know," Marc replied lightly. Zaf snorted.
"Lowly humans?"
"The ones not ready for prime time," Marc explained. "Safe inside our box."
McGee shook his head and poured himself another cup of coffee. "Tell me, do you consider humanity ready? As a species?"
"Ready for what?" Marc asked. "And who gets to decide? Who gets to say what 'ready' means. I used to think I did, you see, so I've some experience with the whole evolution in aid of becoming 'ready' argument."
"Well you're the one that described it as the prime time. Ultimately though it will be humanity that says it's ready. The box isn't to keep you in but them out." He looked at Marc for a moment. "But I suppose you resent that as well."
"I wouldn't call it resentment. I'm just over the whole deciding what species is worthwhile saving and which ones aren't. I'm just a laissez-faire kind of guy these days is all. And yes, you did say it was to keep folks out. Which, generally speaking, only means they try that much harder to get in."
"True. Unfortunately. Still, it should be obvious that the idea behind this is that no one is competent to decide that other than the species themselves," McGee said.
"Really? How so?"
McGee sat back in his chair. "Okay, I'll play along. Start with the fact that there was no decision tree over which species should be inside and which shouldn't. They didn't even ask the question. The only reason they would intervene is if it looked like one species was about to destroy another. Otherwise it's entirely up to you what happens."
"Well, I'd dispute your first statement. There must have been some decision made with regard to what was inside, if only to decide the size of the protected habitat. As for the comment regarding intervention, see, there it is. Someone decides what is all right and what isn't. It isn't that I think it's a bad idea, it's just that if you're going to play god then at least admit that's what's happening. Set your default conditions, your variables and your outcome predictions and see who's right. And try not to have a premature end to the experiment before your predictions are proven or disproven."
Marc frowned. "It isn't like I'm not sympathetic. It's just that I've already done this exercise and it just never comes out very well no matter what."
"Okay," McGee said. "Then you figure out a better solution.
"Haven't got one," Marc admitted. "You act like a god to protect the species until they reach some agreed upon plateau, or you stand aside and let them get eaten by the bigger predator in the area. It's a thankless task and an impossible choice. But then what do I know. You're only telling me bits and pieces and I'm trying to figure out the rest. Since I don't have all the data I'm just accepting what you've said. But you asked, so I gave you the view from my own experience. I hope this works out better."
"And your view is that trying to prevent interference is playing God? I guess the difference between us is I don't see it that way. If I see a bullet headed your way and step in to deflect it is that playing God? Especially if I know that you're helpless to do it for yourself?" McGee asked. "I tend to view that as responsible and caring, not as arrogant, god-like or paternalistic. But then maybe it's that you see this as an experiment and my view is that it's in the nature of a rescue."
Marc nodded. "I've got nothing whatever against rescues. That's why we're here, right? To help a species in need?"
"But that doesn't answer the question I asked."
Marc frowned for a moment. "It's like Earth. Advanced civilizations stepped in to help the natives. Never worked. Even with the best of intentions. Humans are a rotten lot. We lay there starving, someone comes in with food and medicine and what do we do? We resent it all. Sad part of our genetics I think. Doesn't mean it isn't worth the effort, you just have to remember that not everyone sees things the way you do.
"With luck, they'll be in the same situation in the future and hit themselves on the side of the head and go, 'oi!'."
Marc eyed McGee. "Really. I think I understand where you're coming from. Where they are coming from."
"Ultimately I'm not sure it matters much if you do or not. Particularly since your personal goal, immediate and long range, is to get out of the box, no matter what, is it not?"
Marc grinned. "Can't blame me. Wanna see the other side."
"I don't blame you. I'd probably feel the same in your situation. But keep in mind, when you achieve that goal, that you and she are light years ahead of the rest of humanity."
Dinah tilted her head at him suddenly. "Did you know Mac?"
"Yes. Extremely well. We spent a lot of time together out on the Rim."
"Oh why am I not surprised," she said. "I should have guessed long before this."
Zaf laughed. "McGee knows everyone."
"And who do you know?" Marc asked him.
"I'm just the sidekick. I take names."
"Poppycock," Dinah said.
Zaf cocked his head and regarded her. "Not exactly poppycock, Dinah. I don't have a goal. McGee's the one with that."
"Who the hell cares about that? But you pretending to be Jerry Lewis to his Dean Martin doesn't cut it at all."
"I had more Watson and Holmes in mind myself," Zaf replied grinning.
"Don't flatter yourself," she said. "I might, if pressed, go Bob Hope to his Bing Crosby. Certainly I can see the similarities to the 'On the Road to...' movies."
"They're requesting permission to board," Ther'lin said.
"More than one?" McGee asked.
"Yes. Kle'klit and M'nala."
"Tell them they're welcome to board."
As resistant as Marc had seemed to the whole idea of what the Silka were involved with, he stood as the two beings began to materialize, and looked polite if a bit distant. He stood beside Dinah, controlling his curiosity and waiting for an introduction.
McGee rose as well, a smile on his face. "Welcome aboard. It has been too long since last we met."
The taller one inclined his head. "Indeed. May I introduce my companion?"
McGee nodded. "As I would like to do with mine," he replied.
"This is my clan-mate, M'nala. M'nala, this is Jack McGee, an old friend who gave us the joy of having Eden'MacAshlish among us."
She inclined her head. "I have heard much of you, sir. It is an honor to finally meet you."
"It is I who am honored to meet you," McGee said. "And if I may, these are also friends of mine who I hope may become friends of yours. Marc and Dinah Siolastre, House Siol'Ster and the other gentleman is my co-pilot, Zaf." Then he turned and said, "This is Kle'klit, Master Dreamer of Clan Seti Targa as it is said in English and, as he said, his clan-mate M'nala."
Marc and Dinah both nodded. "Thank you for allowing us to come with Jack and Zaf. I hope we can be of some slight help," Marc offered.
"Ther'lin conveyed to us your offer," Kle'klit said.
"Why don't you join us and tell us what's going on?" McGee said, gesturing to the table. "Eden didn't say much when we spoke the other night. I gathered she was pressed for time."
"There are fewer of us than there were," Kle'klit agreed, holding a chair for M'nala before taking his own seat. "That is the problem. We couldn't sustain her for very long."
"Then what about...?" McGee asked quickly.
"All is well, my friend. We won't let you down."
McGee nodded, relieved. "So tell me. Eden said you were dying, of something she likened to a virus and you end up trapped in the dream."
"It reaches a point," M'nala said, "where the Dreamers can not avoid the dream. And once in it they can not get out. It becomes a nightmare, the cocoon a torture chamber and they tear themselves apart to escape."
"She is the Master Physician for our Clan," Kle'klit said. "It is the same with all the Clans Dreamers. At first it was just the Hopeful Ones and it progressed from there. Yesterday we lost a Master Dreamer from Clan Kara Logos."
"Eden says they sicken first?" McGee said.
"Yes. A minor ailment, we thought. And they seemed to recover. But then they would sicken again, becoming disoriented, acutely sensitive to sensory input such as light or sound. Escalating pain and then growing incoherence with exhaustion. Finally, they become unconscious and in that state they spin the cocoon and enter the Dream," M'nala explained. "We've tried opening the cocoon, as we would with a Hopeful One who loses control, but when we do..."
"It's horrible, Jack," Kle'klit said. No matter how soon we do it after the Dream begins, they continue on when it's opened. They tear themselves to shreds."
"They're dreaming outside the cocoons?" McGee asked, stunned. "But that's not possible."
"So we've always thought. So now when they begin to spin the cocoon we are trying to stop them. But it is a constant battle and doesn't always work because, as you know, to do that is so dangerous." Kle'klit spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "That is why Eden suggested we contact you."
"What about the infants?" McGee asked.
"It hasn't reached a point where they are being impacted," he answered. "But if we can not stop this we will be faced with an impossible choice. Whether to dream to save them or not to dream to save ourselves."
"I think," Marc said quietly, "you need to explain to me, in a bit more detail, exactly what you mean."
McGee looked at Kle'klit. "He and Dinah were there when Eden came. He has offered his healers to see if they can help. I've told him very little. Other than these two no one else on their ship even knows where we are. Their ship, Aaru doesn't either."
"I see," Kle'klit said. He turned fully towards Marc, openly scrutinizing him. "You think your healers can help?".
"I don't know. But it is worth a try, isn't it?" Marc asked. "And if they cannot help, I have friends we can call upon. From the sound of it, you are reaching out. We're friends of Jack's and we are offering to do all we can."
Kle'klit held his eyes for an infinitely long moment, saying nothing. Then he smiled faintly. "What do you need from us?"
"Samples of your biological make-up, and I'd like, if it is at all possible, for my healers to see what you are describing," Marc replied quietly. "They need to fully understand what it is you are dealing with."
"What sort of samples?" M'nala asked.
"DNA, or other sorts of biological markers that we can analyze," Marc replied. "Your biochemistry, genetics, that sort of thing."
"Mr. Siolastre we are a very private people. We do not readily expose ourselves to outsiders. If we were to give you those things then you would have to give me your word of honor, speaking not just for yourself but also for your company that it and all the data you realize from it will be returned to us before you leave and that you and they will never speak of these things to others."
Marc eyed the alien for some time. "It is easy to give one's word. It is harder to understand the needs behind a request. If we ourselves cannot solve the problem then I will have to consult others to find you the help you need. I will promise that who you are and where you are need not be shared at all. The problem, and how to solve it, however, might entail more than just my ship's company. But I do promise you that your secrets will be preserved as much as is possible."
Kle'klit rose from his seat, a signal for M'nala to stand too. "Once you know us, Mr. Siolastre, the reasons will be self evident. You and your mate and your healers are welcome on Silka. But no one else, not even your dragons. I apologize for being unable to be more hospitable at this time."
Marc, standing, nodded. "I accept and understand the limitations. They seem quite reasonable under the circumstances."
Kle'klit smiled faintly. "When you're ready, Mr. McGee knows where to bring you." He looked at Dinah and then turned his attention back to Marc. "I am more grateful than I can tell you for you willingness to help us. No matter what the outcome we are in your debt."
"We are two species finding a solution to a common problem. Let there be no talk of debts. It was a pleasure to meet you Kle'klit and, M'nala. I only hope we can help you."
"As was meeting you," he said and then they were gone.
Dinah watched the dust motes in the air resettle themselves. "Well?" she said, addressing Marc. "What do you think?"
"I've no idea. They didn't give us much to go on," Marc replied frowning at Jack McGee.
"They aren't scientists," McGee said. "At least not in the concrete. Until you see them, as they live their lives, the cycles of it, they are almost impossible to understand. Even then it can be difficult to accept the choices they made and why they made them."
Marc shrugged. "Most choices aren't made with logic but based on emotions and needs. We'll go collect Max and Kalket and rejoin you when you call for us."
"When ever you're ready," McGee said, "just rejoin us here."
"Fine, that works for me. Shouldn't take that long. Dinah, you ready?" Marc asked, turning to her.
She nodded and took his hand, letting him zap them back to Aaru. When they got there she said, "Now, what do you really think?"
"I don't know," Marc replied thoughtfully. "Too little data for me to try to speculate. Cocoons and master dreamers... A virus or some sort of infectious agent killing them while they are dreaming... I'd say it sounds fascinating if we weren't talking about beings apparently in a great deal of pain and misery."
"Yeah. Kal and Max are waiting in the infirmary," she said. "I'll break the news to Laz and Kalie while you go get them if you like."
"Oh have fun with Laz and Kalie. Meet you back here in about half an hour."
