Footsteps in the Sky by Greg Keyes Page B

But they are there. I and my three sisters have been parked above this planet for twenty local years.”
    â€œDoing what? For what reason?”
    â€œI’ve been growing this body.”
    â€œThat doesn’t answer my question.”
    Tuchvala sighed, her first truly human mannerism, one she must have learned from Sand.
    â€œIf you planted a million square kilometers of taproot dandelion at great expense. …”
    â€œHow do you know so much about what we do?” Sand demanded.
    â€œI’ve been watching and listening to you for twenty years,” Tuchvala reminded her.
    â€œGo on, then.”
    â€œIf you planted this crop and then returned to find that something had killed it all—say an ashfall from a volcano—what would you do?”
    Sand shrugged. “Re-plant somewhere else. There’s plenty of planet.”
    Tuchvala continued. “But suppose that there were only a few places to plant. Just a few small hectares on a barren, sterile world? And suppose that instead of a natural disaster, your crop was destroyed by vandals? What would you do then?”
    â€œI don’t like where this conversation is going,” Sand said. “You’re saying we spoiled your terraforming project.”
    â€œWe weren’t terraforming. We had no intention of making this planet like Terra. That’s what you are doing.”
    â€œSemantics. You started this planet out and left it. We came along and thought it looked too good to be true and fucked everything up.”
    â€œFrom our point of view, yes.”
    â€œWhat will you do about this?”
    â€œThat’s what I’m trying to decide,” Tuchvala replied.
    â€œWhat can you do?” Sand protested. “I mean, speaking for the human race, I apologize, but we’re already here.”
    Tuchvala nodded, this time with a little more ease. “True. But we could start over. Sterilize the planet and re-seed.”
    â€œSterilize. …” Sand stood up, quite slowly. “I think I should kill you,” she said.
    â€œAnd I think that that would seal your fate,” Tuchvala replied. “I’m basically on your side. It’s one of my sisters you need to worry about. She would have sterilized you long ago, if given the chance. I’m doing this to try to prove that you are similar enough to the Makers to merit our losing this planet.”
    â€œYou’re our judge.”
    â€œNo. I’m an observer, a kind of scientist. But I’m biased. I want to convince my sisters to spare you.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThat would take a long time to explain. It involves concepts that I have no way to frame for you yet. You have to be patient.”
    â€œTuchvala, you’re asking me to accept an awful lot on your word. I saw you drop out of the sky, but that doesn’t prove you’re some ancient planet-farmer. The Tech Society could have cloned my mother pretty easily. This could be some bizarre stunt of theirs. I’ve never heard of these ships you’re talking about, and in twenty years I think somebody here would have noticed them. Even if everything else you say is true, I have no reason to trust that you have our welfare at heart—on the contrary, you’re right: if I’d been working on terraforming some planet for a hundred thousand years or so and some alien squatters messed it up, I’d be damned tempted to wipe them out and start over, or at least demand that they leave. Have I left anything out? Probably.”
    Tuchvala regarded her with an imitation of Sand’s own thoughtful gaze. “I can’t reassure you about most of that. But the ships are there, and your people know about them. They have been broadcasting messages at us for twenty years. They also came and took away the first landing craft, little brother and all.”
    â€œLittle brother?”
    â€œI have stored all of the genetic information necessary to replicate