In all of his exploits, Olmy had exercised a maximum of caution, commensurate with the time he was allowed to plan and act. Even so, he had been killed twice…

He took risks gladly enough, but he did not seek them. If there was a safe and easy way to accomplish his task, that was the method he used.

Now he was about to break his own rule. He knew he would not go to the Hexamon authorities with Mar Kellen’s discovery. That would have been safe, and theoretically his duty would have been fulfilled. Instead, he told no one and pondered different alternatives, all of them deliriously mad.

Olmy had lived through enough history to realize that at most times, major human events were shaped not by rational acts, but by guesswork and something akin to instinct.

To take proper advantage of this mystery, in the time allotted to him, he would have to act alone. Turning it over to the Hexamon authorities would mean delays, investigations by committee, the usual bureaucratic dance around a controversial asset that could very easily be a debit. He strongly suspected—as Tapi’s work had probably confirmed—that within less than a year the information this discovery contained would be needed desperately.

Total caution was impossible, even inappropriate. Especially when all that he put at risk—for the time being—was himself.

He journeyed again to the fifth chamber, this time through the bore hole, traveling alone on a small private shuttle. He climbed the trail, followed Mar Kellen’s instructions to open the security door, and descended into the asteroid’s thick, ancient walls.

In the Jart’s crypt, he contemplated the creature’s static mind patterns.

The image had changed little since Mar Kellen had first brought up the display for him. He walked around the image, again studying the Jart’s preserved body. It was as ugly as he had suspected a Jart would be—and as strange. Perhaps stranger than anything they had met in the Way, and that had included some very odd beings indeed—some difficult to define as “alive” but for their mental activity. What creature had ever walked on solid sharp-ended poles? How did it eat? It was obviously not designed for speed or flexibility. What function did the tentacles and cluster of spikes serve? How could that narrow body service such a large head?

Olmy sat in the tiny chamber, subduing an old, pale fear of very small places. There was no chair, so he sat on the smooth ancient floor, back against the wall.

Why is it here? A question equally as unaswerable as Who brought it here? or How was it captured?

Why would a Jart allow itself to be captured and have its personality downloaded?