Thousandstar
At last she spoke, as from beyond the Star. 'I think I— overextended myself, and lost consciousness. Are we—how is the—?'
"We are successful!" Heem sprayed joyfully. "We shall survive! Your vision did it."
She was stronger now. 'Oh, I was so afraid.'
"But you were so certain I could do it! It was your confidence that kept me going!"
'Thank God for that!'
"Do you mean you thought I could not do it?"
'Oh, no, Heem. But I did fear, foolishly—'
She had feared strongly, and not foolishly, he realized now. Yet she had bolstered him with confidence, enabling him to do what he would otherwise have felt impossible. That realization stirred something strange in him. When he thought her absent, he had experienced a sensation of loss of surprising intensity; now he experienced a gratitude that verged on—but the concept was amorphous.
'I appreciate that feeling, though,' Jessica said. 'We have been through a terrific experience, together.'
But he was too tired now to explore that. He had expended considerable energy of his own, and with the let-down of effort the fatigue hit him. He had to rest, and so did she. He withdrew from her ambience, and the last of the sight-awareness faded from him. "The ship is on course; we can rest for some time," he sprayed, and allowed himself to roll to the stasis of complete relaxation.
'Yes,' she agreed, and there was something ineffable about her manner, and pleasant.
He dreamed, and now the dreams were visual. He saw a hillside decorated with pretty flowers and tall purple pines, and beside him was a presence that reminded him of Moon of Morningmist. But he could not see her, quite.
They intersected the column of ships at an angle. Using their new vision, Heem observed the tokens through the ship's perception. The situation was not good for the HydrO hosts; the first three ships were Erbs, and the next six alternated Squams and Erbs. Then, far back in the column, the HydrOs became more prominent.
"Sight makes a potent difference," Heem sprayed. "Erbs have sight, and they dominate the race. We can only consider ourselves fortunate that the remainder of the race will be onplanet, where taste is an advantage."
'But they aren't really Erbs and Squams and HydrOs,' Jessica said. 'They are only hosts for the other entrants of Thousandstar.'
"Still, if HydrO hosts do not perform well, it will be a negation for our species, and our influence in Thousandstar politics will diminish," Heem jetted. "We can be sure the true Erb and Squam representatives are present in that lead column."
'And the true HydrO representative is about to be,' she said. 'Our shortcut really worked! Where will we place?'
Heem surveyed the column critically. "Twentieth. That is comfortable."
'Not as comfortable as first would be.'
"More comfortable than first. The earliest arrivals will have to contend with the vagaries of the equipment and the landscape. There will be accidents, foul-ups, delays. Those best qualified to race in space will not be best on rough planetary terrain. I warrant that none of the first ten pilots will finish in the first ten to reach the Ancient site."
'None but you, Heem! You have wilderness experience!'
"I do. But I want to be lost in the pack, profiting from the leading contestants' follies. Then, at the later stage, I will exert myself. There is still a lot of racing to be done."
'That's for sure!' she agreed.
Heem jetted a course correction so that the ship angled to merge obliquely with the column. The ship remained in freefall, thus decelerating without the use of fuel. But as it converged with the column, fuel would have to be expended, for the retreat from the Hole was over.
'Do we have enough fuel left?' Jessica inquired worriedly. 'I know you said we did, but now that we're at the point—'
"We have plenty," he assured her. "Thanks to your vision, I judged the nebula passage so well that I used only half what I might have. We could decelerate late, and move safely up to fifth or sixth place, but I prefer not to advertise the extent of our success. So we will phase in with absolute minimum deceleration, somewhat shaky, obviously so battered from our pass between Star and Hole that we represent no serious competition."
'Heem, that's unscrupulous!'
"Yes. But legitimate. The longer we seem to be a minimal threat, the better will be our chance of eventual success. This is not a polite social matter. This is a savage competition for possession of an Ancient site."
'You have the mind of a Solarian.'
"I presume you regard that as a compliment."
'I do.'
"Then it must be one." The emotion he had experienced before, and put aside, came back more strongly. "I dreamed of you, but could not see you."
'I know.'
"Physically, you most resemble a Squam, with your limbs and hearing and the appalling habit of eating. Squams are anathema to me. In addition, you are female."
'I am.'
"Yet I find myself—not sufficiently appalled. Your mind—is more like mine, despite the grotesqueries of your species. When I feared you had departed from me, I suffered."
She was silent, but he could tell from her mood that she understood. It was beyond reason for a HydrO to approve of anything remotely resembling a Squam, but in this case something less stringent than enmity was in order. Maybe he should regard her more as he did the Erbs, alien but neutral, no real threat to him. She shared the perception of sight with them, after all. Yet she was not neutral. And not really alien, anymore. Why did he think of her now as he had once thought of Moon of Morningmist? It could not be simply because she was female, because he was largely indifferent to most females.
He had the feeling that she understood more about this than he did, but was holding her reaction aloof. Why?
Now Jessica spoke. 'The Erbs—you have thought very little about them. But we'll be encountering them personally, on Planet Eccentric, won't we? Along with the Squams?'
"Correct. We have had the intellectual challenge, and the piloting challenge; on planet we shall have the physical challenge. It will have its grim aspects."
'I believe it! I have some notion what a Squam is, thanks to your flashbacks, and I think I can help you there. Because I do, as you have so kindly pointed out, have certain points of resemblance. But I know nothing at all about the Erbs. If you could visualize one for me—'
Heem tried. He juggled their new sight to formulate a vision of a single Erb: a plantlike creature whose roots gathered water and minerals, a massive stem, and a splay of leaves that could fold into a dense cone.
'That's all? A sunflower with a folding flower? How does it live? I mean, it can't live on just water and minerals, can it?'
"HydrOs live on just hydrogen," he reminded her.
'I still haven't quite accepted that, either,' she admitted. 'But if this Erb is a type of plant, it needs light too—'
"It opens its leaf-disk to collect starlight."
'Sunlight, you mean.'
"A sun is a star, yes. When there is wind, it catches this on the leaves, achieving torque, and stores the energy for future use."
'Like a windmill, I guess,' she said uncertainly. 'What about self-defense? Say a nasty Squam attacks it—'
"It folds its disk into a wedge and drills into the Squam's armor, splitting it apart. It is a rare Squam who can withstand an Erb."
'But then HydrOs—you don't seem to fear the Erb—'
"HydrO bodies are soft. The drill has no purchase. We merely fire hot needlejets into the Erb mechanism, disrupting its operation, or holing its stem. Erbs represent no threat to us."
'I see,' she said dubiously.
They limped into mergence with the column, in twentieth place.
"H-Sixty-six. Heem of Highfalls—is that you?" the taste net inquired. "How did you escape the Hole? We thought you had suicided."
"Salutation, H-Forty-six, Swoon of Sweetswamp. I perceived I could not achieve the first fifty, so I needled through the interstice between Star an
d Hole." Heem knew the other ships were tuning in on the exchange, so he made the most of it. "I fear the radiation and the tide—" He let the taste fade out.
'Oh, that's sneaky!' Jessica said. 'They'll never worry about you now!'
"This is my hope."
'Heem, something about the way you say that—your attendant emotion—you're not doing this just as a tactic, are you. You're hiding!'
"I knew it was disaster to have an alien female in my mind," Heem jetted.
'Oh, come off it! We did just great together, even if I am still a little weak-kneed. After the Hole, what is there to worry about, in a mere competition?'
Heem made a mental spray of resignation. "My liability is now of concern to you. It is proper to inform you of it before it manifests on the planet."
'Oh-oh. There is something I still don't know? Heem—does it relate to your problem fighting Squams?'
"It relates. I deceived the competition management. I cannot defeat a Squam in fair combat. And I will surely have to, to remain in contention for the victory."
'I don't follow that. You learned how to overcome a Squam before, didn't you? You proved this, didn't you? Winning those five valleys for HydrO hegemony, one of which was Morningmist? You proved you were correct; your litter would never have survived in Morningmist, had the Squams taken over that region.'
"I did all that," Heem agreed. "Yet this was a sign of my ultimate failure. I was able to use what I had learned as a juvenile, to defeat that Squam in ritual combat, and I became a hero of my kind. But the memory that enabled me to succeed was illegal. When someone betrayed the guilty secret of my past, I was abruptly an outlaw. Yet no one had known my secret, not even me—for all memory of the juvenile state is wiped clean in the metamorphosis to the adult stage."
'But you just said—now wait a minute—you do remember! That's bothered me before. You're telling me all the things you aren't supposed to remember!'
"This—is the other facet of my secret," Heem jetted reluctantly. "My metamorphosis turned out to be imperfect. At first I remembered nothing; then the horrors of the Squam seeped through, and I knew I had to—to master the Squam. I began to remember how. To needle into the limb-grooves with heat, causing the limbs to retreat, preventing the creature from attacking. Rolling it off a height so it would be crushed in the fall. There was varied terrain in the Erb arena, simulating a natural environment. I used it well. Thus I did what hardly any other HydrO could do: I defeated the Squam in combat. Only when I saw it defeated, and the Erbs were drawing it half-drowned out of the water, did I realize that it was not skill and tactics so much as memory that had done it. That I was not truly adult. Were this known, I would be banished from my society until my complete metamorphosis occurred."
'Illegal memories!' Jessica exclaimed. 'Our kind thrives on memory! I remember my childhood—'
"You are not a HydrO."
'So you became a hero and qualified for the competition,' Jessica said. 'That much I can see. And you did it by cheating, according to your culture's definition, because you aren't supposed to remember. But since you still do remember, you should still be able to handle a Squam, shouldn't you?'
"No. When the truth became known about my treason, more memories came, until I remembered it all. And with full memory of my juvenile state came—"
'Yes?' she prompted eagerly.
"Awareness of mortality."
'You mean adult HydrOs really don't know they're going to die? That doesn't make sense! Swoon of Sweetswamp, just now, mentioned suiciding—'
"They know it objectively, not subjectively. It lacks personal force. We do not fear death, or consider it among our alternatives. Therefore Swoon remarked on this as a misjudgment of mine, attempting a tactic so risky as to be suicidal; she did not really contemplate death as a termination. I did—but I am not, am no longer, an adult; I am deficient."
'Heem, this is ridiculous! Every creature has to die sometime, and—'
"Awareness of death as an immediacy does not come until the senile metamorphosis, when the concerns of a lifetime are put aside. Then the events of the adult stage are forgotten, and the entity is equipped to contemplate termination."
'That's amazing! No concern about death, no awareness of youth or age! Subjectively. Like human beings always thinking the lightning will strike someone else, not themselves. You mentioned something about that before, but I didn't think it was literal!'
"When my adult metamorphosis became flawed, my awareness of demise returned. I knew I could die. My power departed, because I became a coward."
She was silent awhile. The ship decelerated, keeping its place in the column. Then she said, 'Heem, I can't accept that. The way you handled that concepts contest, and the first part of the spaceship race, and the Holestar navigation—you've got good nerve."
"These are all natural HydrO facilities. Fighting Squams is not."
'Still, you could rise to the challenge, as you have in other cases.'
"No. I tried to needle with the accuracy required, once, on a mock-up of a Squam. I could not do it. My needles lacked sufficient accuracy. My fear ruined my aim."
'That's not so!' she cried. 'You can't fear the Squam more than you fear the Hole. Fear didn't stop you when you were juvenile. I've been sharing your nerves, your mind. I know you are no coward!'
"I tested my needlejets again before I entered the competition. They remained inaccurate. My fear—"
'You knew you couldn't navigate the Hole, too!' she said. 'But when the time came, you threaded the needle perfectly!'
"Only because I borrowed your sight and your confidence. Your reflexes. No HydrO could have done it without those assets."
'And no HydrO can overcome a Squam!' she exclaimed. 'But with sight you could do that too, Heem. I didn't have confidence; I merely urged you on, while my own terror nearly wiped me out, and you had to revive me after the danger was over. You were the strong one, Heem, not me! I just told you you could do it, and you were fool enough to believe me, and then you could do it. Don't you see—it isn't cowardice that stops you, it's lack of perception! You were lucky in your prior encounters, but you were wounded too, and though your skin healed, your needlejets suffered loss of accuracy. You were burned twice, Heem! There must be scar tissue interfering with your aim, or with your perception, so that you aren't aiming where you think you are. Your skin just doesn't function as well as it did before you were hurt. Once you learned more, you knew you could not depend on luck, and your jets weren't fine-tuned, so you became afraid. Your fear was a natural response to your incapacity, not the other way around. With sight, you could do it, applying your knowledge of tactics, just as you did threading the needle of the Star-Hole. And you have sight now, Heem! For as long as I am with you. You can beat your Squam! I'm sure of that!'
"And you expect me to be fool enough to believe you, again?"
'Yes! Because this is not something new, like skirting a black hole. You've handled Squams before.'
Amazed, Heem reflected. "This is possible. I am aware of mortality, but I did navigate the Hole—with your help. Why should I not navigate a Squam—with your help? It just may be—" He paused. "How is it that your kind remembers its juvenile state? All your metamorphoses can't be flawed!"
'We have no metamorphosis,' she said, surprised. 'Didn't I make that clear before?'
"But how do you know when you're adult?"
"By your age! When we achieve the required number of years of life, we are by definition adult. There is no break of continuity, no loss of memory."
"By your age! This is incredible."
'Sometimes it seems so,' she agreed wryly. 'Actually, there are also some physiological changes that signal maturity, but age is the legal criterion.'
"But then you all remember the horrors of your juvenile state! All your siblings dying—"
There are no horrors, Heem. Our parents take care of us, or some other responsible party. No human child is left to fend for himself, and few of us
die in childhood. In our case, our parents died before we were grown, and the family retainer, Flowers, took over and saw to our security. It is like this in every Solarian family.'
"That cannot be so! In a few generations you would overrun your habitat. There has to be a natural control of numbers, so that a given species neither overpopulates nor dies out. Every suitable location must be seeded, but there must be no reseeding of populated regions."
'I can see the logic of your system, Heem,' she said. 'But it is a cruel one. We produce only one or two offspring at a time, and make sure they survive. The end result is the same—and we suffer no traumas requiring the oblivion of metamorphosis. For you, remembering— Heem, it's terrible! You really do have horrors to forget! No wonder you have traumas. I would, too, if I'd been alone with two hundred sisters, with no parents, in a valley filled with deadly menaces, and watched my sisters die, all but me, knowing that only luck accounted for my survival—'
"Your rationale and mode of life have their appeal," Heem jetted. "I believe I would prefer to propagate your way, rather than the HydrO way."
'Now don't start jetting treason,' she said, touched. Then she shifted the topic. 'One thing still bothers me. If you were the only survivor of your valley, and in any event metamorphosis wiped out the memory—how did anyone know you had refused to reseed the valley of Morningmist?'
"That bothered me also," Heem admitted. "It fostered my illegal exploration of my own buried memories. The valley of Morningmist was empty, but that was no necessary indication of the crime, for all HydrOs could have been killed before a male came across to assist the re-seeding. It had to be someone who had been there, and knew me personally, who knew that male and female had occupied the valley together, and left it empty."
'Meen of Morningmist!' Jessica exclaimed. 'She was not killed. She crossed to Highfalls, didn't she? She knew, and she could have—'
"She would have had to incriminate herself, for she too left Morningmist without reseeding. Even though she wanted to, her failure would have made her suspect."
'Yes, I have encountered that aspect of HydrO logic before.'