Omega Point Trilogy by George Zebrowski Read Free Book Online

senses, Raf, to appreciate and experience things, not for understanding, which is an illusion anyway.”
    “Then maybe those who are redesigning populations in the ring are right.”
    “But they’re not doing what you would want, just more so toward what I say we are. What you want was tried in Hercules, and we got warlike, unbalanced conquerors, not knowers, or appreciators.”
    “How are we to evolve further?” he asked. “We must do it by our own hand, because natural selection is over.” Maybe it’s not over , he thought, maybe after a million years of immortality, only the most ambitious and innovative will remain.
    “I’m glad there’s a place for unchanged people like ourselves,” Grazia said.
    Slowly, he knew, she was going to get the better of him. But nothing she could say would rid him of the feeling that he was beginning to die, that he would continue to die no matter how often he was renewed physically, no matter how long he lived.
    Julian Poincaré visited the next morning, dropping his image in from South Pole City just as Kurbi was beginning to resent the rising sun’s penetration of his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes and saw the stocky man standing near the railing, looking out over the ocean.
    “Julian?”
    Poincaré turned around. “Ah, you’re awake.”
    “Are you here?” Kurbi asked, sitting up on the deck cot.
    “Appearance only, dear friend — no substance, no reality, at least not as much as usual. You’re talking to yourself.”
    Kurbi looked around for Grazia, vaguely remembering that she had gotten up before dawn.
    “You’ll be surprised to learn,” Poincaré said, “that our intelligence at the Pole has just had news that a Herculean Whisper Ship has wiped out the rim colony on Precept.”
    “It must be Gorgias again,” Kurbi said. He stretched his long legs and stood up. “Precept? That’s in the open end of the Snake, north?”
    “That’s right — but why should it be Gorgias? He may be dead — we haven’t heard anything for more than a century. Why can’t it be someone else?”
    “I think he’s been in stasis. There’s some evidence of previous appearances and disappearances, with decades in between. If I’m right, then they have stasis capability and that means I’m right about there being a base; there would have to be to support the technology and the ship.”
    “And you still think he’s not alone?”
    “I think,” Kurbi said, “that Gorgias may have a son, daughter, even brothers or relations with him.” He started to pace back and forth on the terrace. “A base could support quite a few people.”
    “You’re the expert on the Herculeans,” Poincaré said.
    “The corps will have something to do.”
    “And you too.”
    “What are your thoughts about this?” Kurbi asked.
    “I’m worried about where the ship will turn up next. It may be soon.”
    “I think so too,” Kurbi said. He felt wide-awake suddenly.
    “As ranking intelligence officer, I’m issuing warnings — we can expect more violence.”
    “As long as it’s out in the colonies, I don’t think anyone in Chambers will care,” Kurbi said.
    “I’ll try to throw a scare into them. I want ships and resources, and I want you. If they think the ship will pose a threat to close-in worlds, they’ll give me what I want.”
    “Me?” Kurbi asked. He had never thought of his interest in Herculeans as resulting in any practical action. The mystery of Herculean psychology had fascinated him. He had even dreamed of time travel back into the war, just to soak up the atmosphere of those times, feel the pressure of purpose and necessity; now here was a chance to confront a living Herculean from those times.
    “Julian!” Grazia said as she came out of the house. The shade screen came on over the terrace, darkening the sky and rising sun. She sat down on the deck cot.
    “How are you, Grazia?”
    “Fine — now tell me what you want Raf for.”
    “It’s up to him.” Poincaré