Read Online The Crystal Variation by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee - Free Book Online Page B

pattern to his wakefulness that no longer matched a typical M’s profile. As little as the average of the M Strain slept, he slept less. And there were the dreams, usually not so loud as to wake him, and behind them the conviction that he could almost smell the water, hear the surf on the beach, recall the dragons hovering over the world-forest, and know their names.
    This last was the most perplexing—for he must assume that the dreams and wistful memories were the tree’s, channeled to him by a mechanism he accepted without understanding—and how would the tree know the names of beings who rode the air currents?
    He permitted himself little time to explore these personal mysteries, however, with so glorious and complex a problem before him.
    IT WAS THE MIDDLE of the sixth day following his assignment to the task of the disappearances when the elder of the two instructors reappeared, interrupting a landing sim. Jela was a little disturbed by this, for the sim was decidedly trying to create unfavorable conditions and he’d yet to crash or hard-land—
    “Captain,” the instructor said briskly. “We will be sharing a quick meal with my colleague; our schedules will no longer mesh with yours after today, and so we seek a summary from you. In no case, by the way, will you divulge your analysis of the situation to the common troops you will be visiting as part of your mission. Most will lack your training and appreciation of nuance. Please follow me.”
    Though courteously enough phrased, it was an order, so Jela locked the sim and followed the instructor out of the connected rooms of his dormitory and tutoring hall, through a series of corridors on dark-time schedule.
    They passed several people, none of whom acknowledged them, and arrived in a small cafeteria as the younger instructor hurried in from yet another corridor, carrying what appeared to be travel cases.
    “We’re set,” he said to the elder. “When the interview is over, we go.”
    Jela’s interest was piqued: For many days it had been as if the only concern of this place was him and his training. To see outside necessity now so much in view . . .
    “Please,” the elder instructor said to Jela. “Sit and eat. We’re outbound in short order.”
    The meal was decidedly more ambitious than he’d been expecting, given the apparent imminence of the instructors’ departure, and Jela fell to with more enjoyment than he usually found in dining hall food. The initial discussion was near commonplace—questions about which information he’d thought most useful, which databases might as well be left out if the information were to be shared elsewhere . . .
    There was, amazingly, real coffee to finish the meal, which suggested his instructors to be even more out of the ordinary than he’d thought. High-rank officers, then, or independent specialists beyond the direct control of the military—
    “And so,” the younger said at last, “as you have had an extra bit of time in which to consider, would you care to share with us your analysis?”
    Eyebrows up, Jela glanced about the room, and the several tables occupied by quiet-speaking folk.
    The elder instructor smiled. “Of the secrets here, this is—like every secret here—the most important.”
    The younger moved a hand for attention.
    “What we have is a series of potentially cascading situations,” he said seriously. “Some discuss this type of event in terms of catastrophe. Things beyond our control and possibly beyond our ken have been set in motion and will continue in motion. And we? We are in a precarious spot, as if we stand on a high ridge of sand capable of sliding either to the right or to the left.
    “The motion—let’s call it a wind—may set off a slide, or it may not. If the wind carries more sand, the slide might go to the right. If the wind carries moisture, the slide may be delayed—or it may be to the left. If the winds gain strength slowly, an equilibrium may be reached for