longer? The ceremonies—about which we have very few hard facts, as the initiates were forbidden to speak of what they had experienced—took place just slightly after your return date, with the procession from Athens the thirteen miles to Eleusis, where—”
“—Where the initiates went through a series of purification rites for which they had been carefully and secretly prepared,” Rutherford reminded him gently. “What, exactly, would you plan to do?” Landry looked crestfallen. “No, Bryan. With only one displacer stage in existence, our schedules are, of necessity, inflexible, as Commander Thanou has long since explained. And we have to draw the line somewhere. There would always be just one more enigma you’d want to unravel.
“You will proceed directly to Athens, where you should arrive in the afternoon. Commander Thanou, using the resources provided by his computer implant, will have no difficulty guiding you. He can neurally access a map showing all the main thoroughfares. I doubt very much if a complete map of ancient Athens ever existed, and if it had, it would have resembled a plate of spaghetti; most of the city was a maze of narrow pathways, lanes, and alleys. But you are going to be seeking hospitality from an individual whose area of residence is known. He is a prominent public figure, so once you are in that area, minimal inquiries should suffice to locate his house. And your politics should assure you a welcome there, as he is a leading advocate of resistance to Persian aggression.” Rutherford looked annoyed. “Or rather, he was. Tenses are such a problem when discussing time travel!”
The rest of their orientation passed rapidly, and toward its end Rutherford allowed them a day of relaxation. On the last evening before displacement, Jason found himself at the bar of the station’s lounge. As he ordered the last Scotch and soda he would have for two and a half months, he heard a familiar quiet voice behind him.
“Commander Thanou? May I join you for a moment?”
“Of course, Dr. Frey. But please call me ‘Jason.’ And may I call you ‘Chantal’?”
“Certainly . . . Jason. We’re going to be working together closely for some time.”
They found a table and he ordered Chablis for her. She took a couple of sips as though to fortify herself.
“I’ve been hoping to speak to you privately,” she began, “but the opportunity never seems to have arisen. You see . . . I can’t help being fascinated by that neurally interfaced implant inside your head.”
“Fascinated? Most people are repelled by the concept.”
“I know. I’d be less than honest if I didn’t say I was, just a little, at first. But at the same time there’s something exciting about it—the way it almost takes you beyond the ordinary human experience. I mean . . . what’s it like?”
“There’s really nothing transcendent about it. It’s very utilitarian—just an extremely convenient way of accessing information in various forms and recording sensory impressions. That’s as far as exemptions from the Human Integrity Act ever go, even in cases like ours where there’s clearly a legitimate need.” Jason laughed grimly. “Anything more is altogether too reminiscent of the Transhuman movement for most people’s taste.”
“Yes, I know. And of course they did many terrible things. And yet . . . I sometimes wonder if we’re right to automatically reject all their goals. Surely there must have been some power in their ideals, at least at first, before the movement took power and grew corrupt. Perhaps some of the things they sought could be made to benefit the human race without resorting to their extreme methods.”
Jason gave her an appraising look and ran over in his mind what he knew of her people’s history.
They had been among those who had left Earth on slower-than-light colony ships in the early days of the Transhuman movement’s rise to power, fleeing what they could see coming. The bulk of colonizers had gone to the nearer stars. The settlers of Arcadia, however, wishing to exile themselves even more irrevocably, had dared the thirty-five-light-year voyage to Zeta Draconis, most of that time spent in suspended animation. They had awakened to find that the second planet of that binary system’s Sol-like primary component was a hospitable world, fully deserving of the name they had bestowed on it. And there they had remained in the utter isolation they had sought.
Meanwhile the near-Earth colonists had returned to Earth on the wings of the negative-mass drive they had invented, blowing in like a fresh wind that had