“But it can’t go on forever. Nilis sees that. We can’t keep up our blockade of the Core indefinitely. Now Nilis offers us a chance to win, to take the Galaxy. I’m not at all surprised you, Gramm, and your self-serving colleagues are seeking to sabotage his efforts. In fact I’m surprised you have given him as much support as you have. But it’s not enough. Gramm, you are going to give Nilis all the backing he needs—all the way to the center of the Galaxy.”
Gramm sneered. “Madam, this buffoon has nothing. Don’t you understand that yet? He is blocked! He has no way to defeat FTL foreknowledge, or to strike at the Prime Radiant itself.”
Faya Parz said, “Then we must help him. There may be answers.”
Gramm snapped, “What answers?”
“Mankind is very old; the past contains many secrets. . . . This is a treasure which the Coalition chooses to ignore. We believe that somewhere in this deep heritage we may well discover the key to unlocking the final puzzles.”
Nilis rammed his fist into the palm of his hand. “You’re right. Yes! That’s where we must go next.”
Pirius said, “Where?”
Nilis said, “Why, to Mars. To the Secret Archive of the Coalition.”
Torec whispered to Pirius, “What Secret Archive? I don’t like this talk.”
“Nor me.”
Pila, Gramm’s advisor, had been showing increasing irritation. Now she seemed to lose patience. “Why are we listening to this heretical nonsense? What hold does this woman have over us, Minister?”
Luru Parz smiled. “Why don’t you tell her, Gramm?”
Gramm looked thunderous, but didn’t reply.
Luru said evenly, “Oh, I’m just another of the Coalition’s little secrets. Just another Doctrinal violation, tolerated because I am useful. I’ve had an uneasy, ah, working relationship with Gramm for many years, and his predecessors, long before him. Before that—well, my life has sometimes been complicated. But things are civilized these days. The Coalition tolerates our research, here on Port Sol, as long as we share the results. Of course, it could destroy us at any time. But on the other hand I could do a great deal of harm to the Coalition.” She opened her mouth wide, showing blackened teeth.
Nilis suddenly seemed to understand. His jaw dropped, and he gulped before he could speak again. “All this talk of the depths of time . . . Port Sol always was a notorious den of jasoft refugees. And they weren’t all cleared out, were they? And you are one of them, Luru Parz. You are a jasoft.”
Pila flinched, as if she had been struck; her bland, pretty face curled in disgust, the strongest expression Pirius had ever seen her show. Nilis merely stared, utterly fascinated, his intellect overriding his emotions, as it did so often.
Pirius was stunned. He stared at Faya, who had conducted them around the Pit. Was she an ancient too? She had talked of dancing among the floating palaces of Port Sol—but the ice moon had been all but abandoned for twenty thousand years. Was it possible it wasn’t just a dream?