Transvergence by Charles Sheffield Page A

could be mapped, though no one had ever done it. The two-day approach route that the Erebus had followed was discovered empirically by an earlier ship, and others had followed it without understanding why it worked.

    Darya had begun to map the external geometry of the Anfract. She began to have a better appreciation of why it had never been done before. The continuum of the region was enormously complex. It was a long, long job, but it did not require all her attention. While she was organizing the calculation, Darya felt a faint sense of uneasiness. There was something missing. She was overlooking some major factor, something basic and important.

    She had learned not to ignore that vague itch in the base of her brain. The best way to bring it closer to the surface was to explain to someone else what she was doing, clarifying her thoughts for herself as she did so. She found Louis Nenda in the main control cabin and started to explain her work.

    He interrupted her within thirty seconds. "Don't make no difference to me, sweetheart. I don't give squat about the structure of the Anfract. We still gotta go in there, find the Zardalu, an' get out in one piece. Get your head goin' on that ." He had left her, still talking, and wandered off to the main hold to make sure that Dulcimer's ship, the Indulgence , was safely stowed and the seedship was again ready for use.

    Barbarian , Darya thought.

    He was no better than Hans Rebka. No telling them that knowing was necessary, that knowledge was good for its own sake, that understanding mattered . That learning new things was important , and that it was only abstract knowledge, no matter what Nenda or Rebka or anyone else on board might say, that separated humans from animals.

    She went angrily back to work on the Anfract's external geometry. Could other variations reported by earlier ships also be explained in geometric terms? All approaching observers agreed that the Anfract popped into being suddenly. One moment there was nothing to see, the next it was just there , close up. But to half the approaching ships, the Anfract was a glowing bundle of tendrils grouped into thirty-seven complex knots. Others saw thirty-seven spherical regions of light, like diffuse multicolored suns. Half-a-dozen observers reported that the only external evidence of the Anfract was holes in space, thirty-seven dark occlusions of the stellar background. And two Cecropian ships, their occupants blind to electromagnetic radiation and relying on instruments to render the Anfract visible in terms of sonic echolocation, "saw" the Anfract, too—as thirty-seven distorted balls of furry velvet.

    Darya believed that she could explain it all in terms of geometry. Space-time distortion in and around the Anfract affected more than approach distances. It changed the properties of emitted light bundles. Depending on the path taken, some were smoothed, others canceled by phase interference. She happened to be seeing the pattern of glowing white-worm tendrils, but if the Erebus had followed a different approach route, she would have seen something different. And her geometric mapping of the Anfract's exterior could be continued to its interior , based on light-travel properties.

    Darya set up the new calculations. While they were running, she brooded over the vast inconstant vista beyond the observation bubble. Her mood seemed as changeable and uncontrollable as the Anfract itself. She felt annoyed, exhilarated, guilty, and superior in turn.

    A major mystery was hovering just beyond her mental horizon. She was sure of that. It was infuriating that she could not see it for herself, and just as maddening that the others would not let her explain the evidence to them. That was her favorite way of making things clear in her own mind. Meanwhile, the itch inside was getting worse.

    The arrival of Kallik in the observation bubble was both an unwelcome interruption and a reminder to Darya that there were other formidable