opening cupboards and peering into containers.
Cormac took what looked like a guard position near the door. The man was observing, not relaxing, and it set Harry’s nerves on edge.
“Look, Cormac, we’re stuck here for however long it takes to get Hara up and running again. Would you please sit down?”
Cormac proved to be reasonable and sat without much further coaxing. They ate some surprisingly well-preserved ration bars while they waited.
“It appears as if Alvian technology didn’t progress much after these guys left,” Harry said as they sat at the table eating. “Most of this looks familiar and not too antiquated.”
“Astute observation,” Cormac replied, looking again at their surroundings. “I have studied this phenomenon in some detail. Technological advances were made among our people on a steadily increasing basis right up to the point where we started changing our genetic structure. It is a well-established fact. Since the gene alteration, breakthroughs in science and technology have slowed. Artistic endeavor has almost completely disappeared. Music, literature and other creative arts have few, if any, innovators among the current Alvian populace. We occasionally perform the great musical compositions or dance performances of the past, but nobody is creating anything new—and hasn’t for a very long time.”
“And that doesn’t seem wrong to you?” Harry paused to ask. Cormac’s recital of this information was a matter of fact. Like almost all Alvians, he couldn’t seem to work up any emotion even as he discussed the loss of his culture.
“Academically, I know it is a great problem and could foretell the end of Alvian evolution. Perhaps the end of Alvian civilization.” Cormac frowned, taking Harry by surprise. He seemed to struggle with his next words. “On a personal level, I feel we have gone astray as a race. I know it isn’t wise to speak against the Council’s decisions, but as we are far from potential observation and faced with a unique opportunity, I do not mind being candid with you, Harry. Please record my words kindly, Roshin 72, if you must record them at all.” He smiled at the woman who sat between them watching all.
“I’m astounded and glad to hear you say such things, Cormac. You know my sister married Chief Engineer Davin, right?”
“I have heard such is the case,” he affirmed.
“Davin has feelings. He’s a throwback to what Alvians used to be. And I can say with conviction that his deep emotion and creativity is far preferable to the emotionless cocoon in which you all live. I’m half human and half Alvian. I feel, and I worry for both races.”
Cormac eyed Harry with renewed respect and understanding. They had apparently reached some kind of détente. Good. Progress was being made.
Harry didn’t know where that progress would lead them all, but he was hopeful. If the visions he and his uncle had been having were to come to fruition, it would be a difficult road, but one that would lead to the salvation of both races who now shared the Earth.
A slight whirring sound in the hall alerted them to the arrival of Percival, now ensconced in a small, hovering chair. The ancient Alvian smiled as he approached the table under the chair’s power.
“I’m glad to see you all getting along.” Percival gave them an approving smile.
“How are you feeling?” Roshin asked, surprising Harry with her polite concern.
Most Alvians didn’t consider the feelings of others because most Alvians had no feelings to consider. It was interesting that Roshin would ask such a question of someone she knew was quite different from herself. Usually, such behavior indicated someone who spent a lot of time among humans. Harry stowed that thought away for later consideration.
“I am much better, thank you for asking. My legs will take some time to recover. Until then, the hover chair will suffice for my needs. All stasis pods are equipped with them for just such
Cormac took what looked like a guard position near the door. The man was observing, not relaxing, and it set Harry’s nerves on edge.
“Look, Cormac, we’re stuck here for however long it takes to get Hara up and running again. Would you please sit down?”
Cormac proved to be reasonable and sat without much further coaxing. They ate some surprisingly well-preserved ration bars while they waited.
“It appears as if Alvian technology didn’t progress much after these guys left,” Harry said as they sat at the table eating. “Most of this looks familiar and not too antiquated.”
“Astute observation,” Cormac replied, looking again at their surroundings. “I have studied this phenomenon in some detail. Technological advances were made among our people on a steadily increasing basis right up to the point where we started changing our genetic structure. It is a well-established fact. Since the gene alteration, breakthroughs in science and technology have slowed. Artistic endeavor has almost completely disappeared. Music, literature and other creative arts have few, if any, innovators among the current Alvian populace. We occasionally perform the great musical compositions or dance performances of the past, but nobody is creating anything new—and hasn’t for a very long time.”
“And that doesn’t seem wrong to you?” Harry paused to ask. Cormac’s recital of this information was a matter of fact. Like almost all Alvians, he couldn’t seem to work up any emotion even as he discussed the loss of his culture.
“Academically, I know it is a great problem and could foretell the end of Alvian evolution. Perhaps the end of Alvian civilization.” Cormac frowned, taking Harry by surprise. He seemed to struggle with his next words. “On a personal level, I feel we have gone astray as a race. I know it isn’t wise to speak against the Council’s decisions, but as we are far from potential observation and faced with a unique opportunity, I do not mind being candid with you, Harry. Please record my words kindly, Roshin 72, if you must record them at all.” He smiled at the woman who sat between them watching all.
“I’m astounded and glad to hear you say such things, Cormac. You know my sister married Chief Engineer Davin, right?”
“I have heard such is the case,” he affirmed.
“Davin has feelings. He’s a throwback to what Alvians used to be. And I can say with conviction that his deep emotion and creativity is far preferable to the emotionless cocoon in which you all live. I’m half human and half Alvian. I feel, and I worry for both races.”
Cormac eyed Harry with renewed respect and understanding. They had apparently reached some kind of détente. Good. Progress was being made.
Harry didn’t know where that progress would lead them all, but he was hopeful. If the visions he and his uncle had been having were to come to fruition, it would be a difficult road, but one that would lead to the salvation of both races who now shared the Earth.
A slight whirring sound in the hall alerted them to the arrival of Percival, now ensconced in a small, hovering chair. The ancient Alvian smiled as he approached the table under the chair’s power.
“I’m glad to see you all getting along.” Percival gave them an approving smile.
“How are you feeling?” Roshin asked, surprising Harry with her polite concern.
Most Alvians didn’t consider the feelings of others because most Alvians had no feelings to consider. It was interesting that Roshin would ask such a question of someone she knew was quite different from herself. Usually, such behavior indicated someone who spent a lot of time among humans. Harry stowed that thought away for later consideration.
“I am much better, thank you for asking. My legs will take some time to recover. Until then, the hover chair will suffice for my needs. All stasis pods are equipped with them for just such
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