would go,> Human told her.
But for once she did not answer him.
Jane was adamant. The team working on the language of the descoladores had to leave Lusitania and get back to work in orbit around the descolada planet. Of course that included herself, but no one was foolish enough to begrudge the survival of the person who was making all the starships go, nor of the team that would perhaps save all of humanity from the descoladores. But Jane was on shakier moral ground when she also insisted that Novinha, Grego, and Olhado and his family be taken to a place of safety. Valentine, too, was informed that if she did not go with her husband and children and their crew and friends to Jakt's starship, Jane would be forced to waste precious mental resources by transporting them bodily against their will, sans spacecraft if necessary.
"Why us?" demanded Valentine. "We haven't asked for special treatment."
"I don't care what you do or do not ask for," said Jane. "You are Ender's sister. Novinha is his widow, her children are his adopted children; I will not stand by and let you be killed when I have it in my power to save the family of my friend. If that seems unfairly preferential to you, then complain about it to me later, but for now get yourselves into Jakt's spaceship so I can lift you off this world. And you will save more lives if you don't waste another moment of my attention with useless argument."
Feeling ashamed at having special privileges, yet grateful they and their loved ones would live through the next few hours, the descoladores team gathered in the shuttle-turned-starship, which Jane had relocated away from the crowded landing area; the others hurried toward Jakt's landing craft, which she had also moved to an isolated spot.
In a way, for many of them at least, the appearance of the fleet was almost a relief. They had lived for so long in its shadow that to have it here at last gave respite from the endless anxiety. Within an hour or two, the issue would be decided.
In the shuttle that hurtled along in a high orbit above the planet of the descoladores, Miro sat numbly at his terminal. "I can't work," he said at last. "I can't concentrate on language when my people and my home are on the brink of destruction." He knew that Jane, strapped into her bed in the back of the shuttle, was using her whole concentration to move ship after ship from Lusitania to other colony worlds that were ill-prepared to receive them. While all he could do was puzzle over molecular messages from inscrutable aliens.
"Well I can," said Quara. "After all, these descoladores are just as great a threat, and to all of humanity, not just to one small world."
"How wise of you," said Ela dryly, "to take the long view."
"Look at these broadcasts we're getting from the descoladores," said Quara. "See if you recognize what I'm seeing here."
Ela called up Quara's display on her own terminal; so did Miro. However annoying Quara might be, she was good at what she did.
"See this? Whatever else this molecule does, it's exactly designed to work at precisely the same location in the brain as the heroin molecule."
It could not be denied that the fit was perfect. Ela, though, found it hard to believe. "The only way they could do this," she said, "is if they took the historical information contained in the descolada descriptions we sent them, used that information to build a human body, studied it, and found a chemical that would immobilize us with mindless pleasure while they do whatever they want to us. There's no way they've had time to grow a human since we sent that information."
"Maybe they don't have to build the whole human body," said Miro. "Maybe they're so adept at reading genetic information that they can extrapolate everything there is to know about the human anatomy and physiology from our genetic information alone."
"But they didn't even have our DNA set," Ela said.
"Maybe they can compress the information in our primitive, natural DNA," said Miro. "Obviously they got the information somehow, and obviously they figured out what would make us sit as still as stones with dumb, happy smiles."
"What's even more obvious to me," said Quara, "is that they meant us to read this molecule biologically. They meant us to take this drug instantly. As far as they're concerned, we're now sitting here waiting for them to come take us over."
Miro immediately changed displays over his terminal. "Damn, Quara, you're right. Look -- they have three ships closing in on us already."
"They've never even approached us before," said Ela.
"Well, they're not going to approach us now," said Miro. "We've got to give them a demonstration that we didn't fall for their trojan horse." He got up from his seat and fairly flew back down the corridor to where Jane was sleeping. "Jane!" he shouted even before he got there. "Jane!"
It took a moment, and then her eyes fluttered open.
"Jane," he said. "Move us about a hundred miles over and drop us into a closer orbit."
She looked at him quizzically, then must have decided to trust him because she asked nothing. She closed her eyes again, as Firequencher shouted from the control room, "She did it! We moved!"
Miro, drifted back to the others. "Now I know they can't do that," he said. Sure enough, his display now reported that the alien ships were no longer approaching, but rather were poised warily a dozen miles off in three -- no, four now -- directions. "Got us nicely framed in a tetrahedron," said Miro.
"Well, now they know that we didn't succumb to their die-happy drug," said Quara.
"But we're no closer to understanding them than we were before."
"That's because," said Miro, "we're so stupid."
"Self-vilification won't help us now," said Quara, "even if in your case it happens to be true."
"Quara," said Ela sharply.
"It was a joke, dammit!" said Quara. "Can't a girl tease her big brother?"
"Oh, yeah," said Miro dryly. "You're such a tease."
"What did you mean by saying we're stupid?" said Firequencher.
"We'll never decipher their language," said Miro, "because it's not a language. It's a set of biological commands. They don't talk. They don't abstract. They just make molecules that do things to each other. It's as if the human vocabulary consisted of bricks and sandwiches. Throw a brick or give a sandwich, punish or reward. If they have abstract thoughts we're not going to get them through reading these molecules."
"I find it hard to believe that a species with no abstract language could possibly create spaceships like those out there," said Quara scornfully. "And they broadcast these molecules the way we broadcast vids and voices."
"What if they all have organs inside their bodies that directly translate molecular messages into chemicals or physical structures? Then they could --"
"You're missing my point," insisted Quara. "You don't build up a fund of common knowledge by throwing bricks and sharing sandwiches. They need language in order to store information outside their bodies so that they can pass knowledge from person to person, generation after generation. You don't get out into space or make broadcasts using the electromagnetic spectrum on the basis of what one person can be persuaded to do with a brick."
"She's probably right," said Ela.
"So maybe parts of the molecular messages they send are memory sets," said Miro. "Again, not a language -- it stimulates the brain to 'remember' things that the sender experienced but the receiver did not."
"Listen, whether you're right or not," said Firequencher, "we have to keep trying to decode the language."