Grimly, Martine repeated the question.
NOTHING. YOU WON’T SEE US. MAYBE OUR YOUNG, OUR CATTLE.
NOT US.
That explained the two types of Solarians, Jacob thought. The “normal” variety must be the young, given simple tasks such as shepherding the toroids. Where, then, did the adults live? What kind of culture did they have? How could creatures made of ionized plasma communicate with watery human beings? Jacob ached at the creature’s threat. If they wanted to, the adults could avoid a Sunship, or any conceivable fleet of Sunships, as easily as an eagle could a balloon. If they cut off contact now, humans could never force them to renew it.
“Pleashe,” Culla asked. “Ashk it if Bubbacub offended them.” The Pring’s eyes glowed hotly and the chattering continued, muffled, between each word he spoke.
BUBBACUB MEANS NOTHING. INSIGNIFICANT. JUST LEAVE.
The Solarian began to fade. The ragged rectangle grew smaller as it slowly backed away.
“Wait!” Jacob stood up. He stretched out one hand grabbing at nothing.
“Don’t cut us off! We’re your nearest neighbors! We only want to share with you! At least tell us who you are!”
The image was blurred with distance. A wisp of darker gas swept in and covered the Solarian, but not before they read one last message. With a crowd of “young” gathered around it, the adult repeated one of its earlier sentences.
THE POET SPEAKS FOR US.
PART VIII
In ancient days two aviators procured to themselves wings. Daedalus flew safely through
the middle air and was duly honoured on his landing. Icarus soared upwards to the sun till the
wax melted which bound his wings and his flight ended in fiasco.. .. The classical authorities
tell us, of course, that he was only ‘doing a stunt’; but I prefer to think of him as the man
who brought to light a serious constructional defect in the flying-machines of his day.
From Stars and Atoms, by Sir Arthur Eddington (Oxford University Press, 1927, p. 41)
23. AN EXCITED STATE
Pierre LaRoque sat with his back to the utility dome. He hugged his knees and stared vacantly at the deck. He wondered, miserably, if Millie would give him a shot to last him until the Sunship got out of the chromosphere.
Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be in keeping with his new role as a prophet. He shuddered. During his entire career he had never realized how much it meant to have only to comment, and not to have to shape events. The Solarian had given him a curse, not a blessing.
He wondered, dully, if the creature had chosen him in an ironic whim . . . as a joke. Or had it somehow planted words deep within him that would come out when he got back to Earth, shocking and embarrassing him.
Or am I just supposed to spout out my own opinions as I always have? He rocked slowly, miserably. To foist one’s ideas on others by dint of personality was one thing. To speak clothed in a prophet’s mantle was quite another.
The others had gathered near the command station to discuss the next step. He could hear them talking and wished they’d just go away. Without looking up, he could feel it when they turned and stared at him. LaRoque wished he were dead.
“I say we should bump him off,” Donaldson suggested. His burr was very pronounced, now. Jacob, listening nearby, wished the ethnic languages fad had never caught on. “There’ll be no end of the trouble that man’ll cause if ‘e gets loose on Earth!” the engineer finished.
Martine chewed on her lip for a moment. “No, that wouldn’t be wise. Better beam Earth for instructions when we get back to Hermes. The feds may decide to use up an emergency sequester allotment on him, but I don’t think anyone would get away with actually eliminating Peter.”
“I’m surprised you react that way to the chief’s suggestion,” Jacob said. “One would think you’d be aghast at the idea.”
Martine shrugged. “By now it must be clear to all of you that I represent a faction in the Confederacy Assembly. Peter is my friend, but if I felt it was my duty to Earth to put him out of the way, I’d do it myself.” She looked grim.
Jacob wasn’t as surprised as he might have been. If the chief engineer felt a need to put up a layer of flippancy, to get through the shock of the last hour, many of the others had dropped all pretense. Martine was willing to think about the unthinkable. Nearby, LaRoque didn’t pretend to be anything but scared as he rocked slowly, apparently oblivious to them all.
Donaldson raised his index finger.
“Did you notice that the Solarian didn’t say anything at all about the message beam? It passed right through him and he didn’t seem to care. Yet earlier, the other Ghost. . .”
“The juvenile.”
“. . . the juvenile, definitely reacted.”
Jacob scratched his earlobe. “There’s no end to mysteries. Why has the adult creature always avoided being in line with our rim instruments? Has it got something to hide? Why all the threatening gestures on all the previous dives, when he was capable of communicating ever since Dr. Marline brought her psi helmet aboard months ago?”
“Maybe your P-laser gave it an element it needed,” a crewman suggested, an Oriental gentleman named Chen, whom Jacob had met only at the start of the dive. “An alternative hypothesis would be that it was waiting for someone of reasonable status to speak to.”
Martine sniffed.
“That’s the theory we were working on on the last dive, and it didn’t work. Bubbacub faked contact, and for all of his talents Fagin failed . . . oh, you mean Peter. . .”
The silence could be cut with a knife.
“Jacob, I sure wish we could have found a projector,” Donaldson smiled wryly. “T’would have solved all our problems,”
Jacob grinned back, without humor. “Deux ex machina, Chief? You know better than to expect special favors from the universe.”
“We might as well resign ourselves,” Martine said. “We may never see another adult Ghost. Folks were skeptical about all of these stories about ‘anthropomorphic shapes’ back on Earth. It’s just the word of a couple dozen sophonts that have seen them, plus a few blurred photos. In time it may be all put down to hysteria, despite my tests.” She looked down gloomily.
Jacob was aware of Helene deSilva standing next to him. She had been strangely silent since calling them together a few minutes before.
“Well at least this time Sundiver itself isn’t threatened,” Jacob said. “The solonomical research can go on, and so can studies of the toroid herds. The Solarian said that they won’t interfere.”
“Yeah,” Donaldson added. “But will he?” he gestured at LaRoque.
“We have to decide what to do next. We’re drifting near the bottom of the herd now. Do we go up and keep poking around? Maybe Solarians vary among themselves as much as we humans do. Maybe the one we met was a grouch.” Jacob suggested.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Martine commented.
“Let’s put the Parametric Laser on automatic and add a portion in coded English to the communication tape. It’ll beam into the herd, as we spiral leisurely upward, on the off chance that friendlier adult Solarian might be attracted.”
“If one is, I sure hope it doesn’t scare me out of my codpiece like that last one did,” Donaldson muttered.
Helene deSilva rubbed her shoulders as if fighting a chill. “Has anyone else got anything to say ‘en camera’? Then I’m going to settle the humans-only part of this discussion by ruling out any precipitate action concerning Mr. LaRoque. Just everybody keep your eyes on him, just in case.
“This meeting is in recess. Think about ideas on what to do next. Someone please ask Fagin and Culla to join us at the refreshment center in twenty minutes. That’s all.”
Jacob felt a hand on his arm. Helene stood next to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine . . . fine.” She smiled without much conviction. “I’d just . . . Jacob, would you come to my office with me, pl
ease?”
“Sure, after you.”
Helene shook her head. Her fingers dug into his arm and she pulled him along in a fast walk toward the closet-sized cubbyhole in the side of the dome that served as a captain’s office. When they were inside she cleared a space on the tiny desk and motioned for him to sit. Then she closed the door and sagged back against it.
“Oh, God,” she sighed.
“Helene . . .” Jacob started forward, then stopped. Her eyes blazed blue up at him.
“Jacob,” she was making a concentrated effort to be calm. “Can you promise me you’ll do me a favor for a few minutes and not talk about it afterwards? I can’t tell you what it is until you agree.” Her eyes appealed silently.
Jacob didn’t have to think. “Of course, Helene. You can ask anything. But tell me what’s the . . .”
“Then please, just hold me.” Her voice trailed off in a cry. She came up against his chest with her arms tacked in in front of her.. in mute surprise, Jacob put his arms around her and held on tightly.
Slowly he rocked her back and forth as a series of powerful tremors ran through her body. “Sshhh . . . it’s all right. . .” He spoke reassuring nonsense words. Her hair brushed his cheek and her smell seemed to fill the tiny room. It was heady.
For a time they stood-together silently. She moved her head slowly on his shoulder.
The tremors subsided. Gradually her body relaxed. He stroked the taut muscles of her back with one hand and they loosened one by one.
Jacob wondered who was doing whom the favor. He hadn’t felt this peaceful, this calm, for Ifni knew how long. It moved him that she trusted him so.
More, it made him happy. There was a bitter little voice below that was gnashing its teeth at this moment, but he wasn’t listening. Doing what he was doing now felt more natural than breathing.
After a few more moments, Helene lifted her head. When she spoke her voice was thick.
“I’ve never been so scared in all my life,” she said. “I want you to understand that I didn’t have to do this. I could have been Iron Lady for the rest of the dive . . . but you were here, available . . . I had to. I’m sorry.”
Jacob noticed that Helene made no effort to back away. He kept his arms around her.
“No problem,” he spoke softly. “Sometime later I’ll tell you how nice it was. Don’t worry about being scared. I just about went out of my skin when I saw those letters. Curiosity and numbness are my defense mechanisms. You saw how the others were reacting. You just had more responsibility is all.”
Helene didn’t say anything. She brought her hands up and put them on his shoulders, without creating a space between them.
“Anyway,” Jacob went on, brushing free locks of her hair into place. “You must have been more startled lots of times during your Jumps.”
Helene stiffened and pushed back from his chest.
“Mr. Demwa, you are intolerable! You and your constantly mentioning my Jumps! Do you think I’ve ever been as scared as that?! Just how old do you think I am?”
Jacob smiled. She hadn’t pushed back hard enough to shake off his arms. Obviously she wasn’t ready for him to let go.
“Well, relativity-wise. . .” he began.
“Fuck relativity! I’m twenty-five! I may have seen more sky than you have but I’ve experienced a hell of lot less of the real universe than you . . . and my competence rating says nothing about how I feel inside! It’s scary having to be perfect and strong and responsible for people’s lives . . . for me at least, it is, unlike you, you impervious, imperturbable, once-upon-a-time hero-oaf, standing there calm as you please, just like Captain Beloc on Calypso when we ran that crazy fake blockade at J8’lek and . . . and now I’m going to go highly illegal and order you to kiss me, since you don’t seem about to do it on your own!”
She looked at him defiantly. When Jacob laughed and pulled her toward him, she resisted momentarily. Then her arms slid around his neck and her lips pressed up against his.
Jacob distantly felt her tremble again. But this time it was different. It was hard to tell how it was different, since he was busy at the moment. Enchantingly so.
Suddenly, agonizingly, he realized how long it had been since . . . two very long years. He pushed the thought aside. Tania was dead, and Helene was beautifully, wonderfully alive. He held her tighter and answered her passion in the only way possible.
“Excellent therapy, Doctor,” she teased as he tried to comb the knots out of his hair. “I feel like a million bucks, though I’ll admit you look like you’ve been through a wringer.”
“What’s . . . urk, what’s a ‘wringer’? Never mind, I don’t want any explanations of your anachronisms. Look at you! You’re proud of making me feel like a bar of steel that’s been melted and bent out of shape!”
“Yup.”
Jacob didn’t succeed at suppressing a grin. “Shut up and respect your elders. How much time do we have, anyway?”
Helens glanced at her ring. “About two minutes. Damned awkward time to have a meeting. You were just starting to get interesting. Who the hell called it at such an inconvenient moment?”
“You did.”
“Ah, yes. So I did. Next time I’ll give you at least a half hour, and we’ll investigate matters in more detail.”
Jacob nodded uncertainly. It was hard to tell, sometimes, at what level this fern was kidding.
Before she unlatched the door, Helene soberly leaned up and kissed him.
“Thank you, Jacob.”
He caressed the side of her face with his left hand. She pressed against it briefly. There was nothing to say when he brought the hand away.
Helene opened the door and looked out. There was no one in sight but the pilot. Everyone else had probably gathered for the second meeting at the refreshment center.
“Let’s go,” she said. “I could eat a horse!”
Jacob shuddered. If he was going to get to know Helene better, he’d better be prepared for a lot of exercise for his imagination. A horse indeed!
Still, he dropped a little less than a foot back as they walked, so he could watch Helene move. It was so distracting that he didn’t notice when a spinning torus swung past the ship, its sides emblazoned with starbursts and surrounded by a halo as white and bright as the down on the breast of a dove.
24. SPONTANEOUS EMISSION
Culla was just pulling a liquitube out of Fagin’s foliage when they returned. One arm was enmeshed in the Kanten’s leafy branches. The Pring held another liquitube in his other hand.
“Welcome back,” Fagin fluted. “Pring Culla was just assisting me with my dietary supplement. I am afraid that in doing so he has neglected his own.”
“No problem, shir,” Culla said. He slowly pulled the tube backward.
Jacob came up behind the Pring to watch. This was a chance to learn more about Fagin’s workings. The Kanten once told him that his species had no modesty taboo, so surely he wouldn’t mind if Jacob sighted along Culla’s arm to see what sort of orifice the semi-vegetable alien used.
He was bent over thus when suddenly Culla jerked back, pulling the liquitube free. His elbow collided painfully with the ridge above Jacob’s eye, sending him backwards on his rump.
Culla chattered loudly. The liquitubes dropped from the hands that fell limply to his sides. Helene had trouble choking back a fit of laughter. Jacob hurried to his feet. His “I’ll-get-even-someday” grimace at Helene only made her cough more loudly.
“Forget it, Culla,” he said. “No damage done. It was my fault. I have a spare eye anyway.” He resisted the urge to rub the spot where it hurt.
Culla looked down at him with shining eyes. The chattering subsided.
“You are mosht gracioush, Friend-Jacob,” he said at last. “In a proper client-elder shituation I wash at fault for careleshnesh. I thank you for forgiving me.”
“Tut tut, my friend.” Jacob waved it aside. Actually he could feel the beginnings of a nasty bump forming. Still, it w
ould be worthwhile changing the subject to save Culla further embarrassment.
“Speaking of spare eyes, I read that your species, and most of those on Pring, had only one eye before the Pila arrived and started their genetic program.”
“Yesh, Jacob. The Pila gave ush two eyesh for esthetic purposhesh. In the galaxy mosht bipedsh are binocular. They did not want ush . . . teashed by the other young racesh.”
Jacob frowned. There was something . . . he knew Mr. Hyde already had it but was holding back, still in his peevish mood.
Damnit, it’s my unconscious!
No use. Oh well.
“But Culla, I also read that your species were arboreal . . . even brachiating, if I remember right. . .”
“What’s that mean?” Donaldson whispered to deSilva.
“It means they used to swing from tree limbs,” she answered. “Now hush!”
“. . . But if they had only one eye how did your ancestors have good enough depth perception to keep from missing when they reached for the next branch?”
Before Jacob even finished his sentence he felt jubilation, That had been the question Mr. Hyde was holding back! So the little devil didn’t have a complete lock on unconscious insight! Helene was doing him good already. He hardly cared what Culla’s answer was.
“I thought you knew. Friend-Jacob. I overheard Commandant deShilva explaining during our firsht dive that I have different receiversh than you do. My eyesh can detect phase ash well ash inteashity.”
“Yes.” Jacob was starting to have fun now. He’d have to keep his eyes on Fagin. The old Kanten would warn him if he was getting into an area Culla found touchy.
“Yes, but sunlight, particularly in a forest, would have to be totally incoherent. . . random in phase. Now a dolphin uses a system like yours in her sonar, keeping the phase and all. But she provides her own coherent phase field by letting out well-timed squeaks into her surroundings.””
Jacob stepped back, enjoying a dramatic pause. His foot fell on one of the liquitubes Culla had dropped. Absently he picked it up.