Page 13 of Sentenced to Prism

  "There are many reasons for emphasizing gregarious­ness over solitude. Surely as an independent organism you must recognize some of them yourself. There is more to life than food gathering. For example, there are com­mon dangers which can better be dealt with on a coop­erative rather than an individual basis."

  So even as seemingly indestructible a creature as Azure felt threatened by the unseen and still unexperienced dangers of the forest. That was a sobering thought for some­thing as fragile as a human being to mull over. Perhaps Prism was home to things even more lethal than the acid ­spitters and ultrasound generators. The course of adaptive evolution on Prism had run no more smoothly or politely than on any other world, for all its divergence into the world of silicon.

  He looked down at the bubble grass crunching beneath his feet. Here even the simplest, lowliest lifeforms sported protective shells. Where did something like Azure fit into such an environment? Were his kind at the top of the food chain? But photovores stood outside the food chain, inde­pendent of it. Yet he had expressed fear of attack. It distressed Evan to think of larger, more powerful crea­tures preying on a being as intelligent and, yes, sympa­thetic as Azure. But hadn't there been a time, eons ago, when man himself had been forced to settle for a position in the middle of the food chain? It gave him plenty to ponder as he carried his newfound friend through the forest of wonders and astonishments.

  The whole world grated on his senses. Wherever he looked were hard, unyielding shapes. Beautiful and exotic they might be, but there was no tenderness to any of them. Even the silica fibers which simulated the appearance of plant fronds and stems were rough to the touch and would cut bare skin if pressed against it. He thought again of the syaruzi and how easily they had pierced his fresh and was more grateful than ever for the armor which Azure had provided.

  They'd chosen a place to spend the night and Evan had drifted to sleep when he was awakened by a soft buzzing in his right ear. Dancing jewels darted about over­head, though not in the profusion of several nights before.

  The buzzing came again. He sat up and stared into the darkness, all of Azure's warnings coming back to him with a rush.

  "There's something moving out there," he thought to his friend.

  "I know." The reply was slow and sleepy, as though Azure couldn't shake himself awake. Come to think of it, he'd never discussed the matter of sleep with the little alien.

  He wasn't going to now, either. He was too busy trying to penetrate the surrounding darkness. The moonlight added eerie shadows to the already disquieting silhouette of the forest. Other night sounds filled the air. They weren't loud enough to drown out that steady, monotonous buzz­ing.

  "I don't see anything."

  "Nor do I," Azure murmured. Why did he sound so tired? Evan wondered. Hadn't he ridden all day on Evan's shoulders?

  A form separated itself from the trees and came toward them. It was slightly larger than a dog and took the shape of a smooth hemisphere that traveled on four stumpy brown legs. A pair of bright red eyes peeped out at the world from just beneath the fore edge of the glassy dome. There were two more eyes on each side and a pair facing backward, but he didn't notice them until later. It was moving with ponderous deliberation, displayed nothing in the way of fang or claw, and looked anything but threat­ening.

  Azure saw it and panicked.

  "A busck! I have to disconnect. Run, Evan, and don't look back! I will try to find you later."

  "Hey, wait a minute!" Evan shouted, but Azure had already pulled the communications tendrils free from his ear and dropped to the ground.

  The busck continued to lumber toward them at glacial speed, buzzing excitedly. Evan was convinced he could outrun it by hopping on one leg, much less two good ones. He studied intently, searching in vain for any sign of offensive armament. If it was an acid‑spitter the telltale hypo organ was completely hidden from view. In any case, Azure had assured him his suit should be capable of resist­ing the effects of all but the most powerful acids.

  He reached down to try and restrain his friend, for the first time feeling awkward and alone during a disconnect. But Azure seemed interested only in flight.

  Maybe the approaching creature outmassed him, but not Evan, who was several times its size. "What's wrong? It doesn't look very‑"

  The ball of light that filled the campsite was as intense as it was unexpected. It was as if someone had set off a dozen magnesium flares at their feet. Evan was tempo­rarily blinded, having doffed his sunshades for the night. The effect was magnified by the reflective surfaces of the forest growth.

  He staggered backward, rubbing at his outraged eyes with both hands until he bumped into the solid mass of a big condarite. Instantly the trunk behind him began to vibrate and he stumbled away. Through vibration, a con­darite could generate quite a bit of heat. It was a defensive reaction designed to discourage browsers, whose con­ductivity would be thrown off balance by the internal heat. It's hard to gnaw on something if it burns your mouth.

  Gradually the plethora of tiny novas began to disappear from the backside of his eyelids. Just as he was able to see again the burst of light was repeated. But this time he was turned away from the busck. Shielding his eyes with one arm, he felt of his supplies until he recovered his sunshades. They should offer some protection.

  He was able to time and thus forecast when the busck was going to flare, since its pulses came at regular inter­vals. It had started toward him, but when he'd backed away it had turned its attention to Azure. To Evan's shock and surprise, instead of fleeing as he'd announced his intention to do, the little alien was standing motionless where he'd landed.

  "Azure, run! Why don't you run?" Idiot! he admon­ished himself. You're not plugged in. His companion's lack of movement was a complete mystery.

  Especially since it was quite clear that the busck was snaking straight for him. As it drew near it slowly began to rise on its four legs. They seemed to extend themselves like hydraulic pillars instead of unfolding or unwinding. Every couple of minutes it would generate another intense flash of light, the hemispherical body acting like an enor­mous omnidirectional lens.

  You didn't have to be a biologist to divine the preda­tor's intent. It was going to lift itself until it was high enough off the ground to clear Azure's body and then drop down to cover him completely. Evan didn't care to visualize the sucking, tearing mouthparts that must be concealed beneath the glassy dome, mouthparts which would rip Azure apart at their leisure.

  Still his friend didn't move. Logic drew a quick con­nection between Azure's immobility and the periodic bursts of light. The wavelengths involved were of a type suffi­cient to paralyze his companion, penetrating the silicate optics to numb the brain beyond. Evan had heard of ani­mals which could paralyze by the use of sound, but this was the first time he'd encountered a predator which employed light to immobilize its prey.

  The busck had reached a position immediately above the senseless Azure and was beginning to descend. Like its walk, the descent of that glassy dome was slow, so slow. The bursts of light hurt, but Evan's optics were not as sensitized to their wavelength as were the inhabitants off this world. He moved fast.

  Feeling uncomfortably like someone sticking his hand beneath a hydraulic press, he reached forward between the busck's legs. Grabbing Azure by two of his ten legs, he pulled him clear. The busck made no attempt to inter­fere with this brazen rescue effort, though for all Evan knew it might be emitting screams of outrage on frequen­cies beyond his range of hearing.

  What it finally did do was cease lowering its body toward the ground, turn, and start stalking the bipedal interloper, pulsing intensely. The light had no effect on Evan at all.

  He had plenty of time to pick up his staff and pack and walk away into the night. Turning occasionally he could still make out the intermittent pulses of light the pursuing busck was generating. It continued to follow even after Evan was safely beyond its range, unable to believe its prey had escaped. Evan sympathized
briefly with its con­fusion. It wasn't designed for chasing but rather for mak­ing a leisurely meal of completely paralyzed victims, the way a starfish would digest an oyster. Evan's flight was beyond its experience.

  Despite its demonstrated snaillike gait, Evan didn't pause until the last vestige of light had been swallowed up by the forest behind him.

  Azure hadn't stirred during the escape. Not knowing what else to do, Evan set him down gently and sprawled out nearby to wait. He couldn't very well pick up the curled communications tendrils and insert them in his own ear any more than he could administer first aid. For that matter, he couldn't tell if his companion was paralyzed or dead. All he could do was wait, hope, and provide residual heat.

  He tried to sleep but could not, and his patience was rewarded the following morning when first the legs and then Azure's mouthparts began to move. So that his friend would not have to make the considerable leap from ground to shoulder, Evan moved as close as possible to the limp silicate form.

  The tendrils uncurled and extended toward his head. Halfway inside there was a sharp stab of pain, but Evan ground his teeth and held his position. A moment later and the mesh was complete again.

  "I hurt you," were Azure's first words since the night before.

  "It's all right, it's nothing." Evan ignored the few drops of blood that spilled from his ear.

  "What happened? When we did not run in time I thought all was lost. Busek light penetrates even solid lids." He blinked by way of emphasis. "I did not expect conscious­ness to return."

  "It didn't affect me the same way," Evan explained. "It blinded me for a moment, but there was no paralysis. It was just about to start dining on you when I yanked you clear and walked off into the forest. I didn't have to move very fast."

  "The busck does not rely on speed."

  "Conveniently. Don't worry. It's a long way behind us now."

  "Yes, it is easy to run away from the busck. The danger lies in its seeing you before you see it. I owe you my life. If not for you I would be powder by now."

  Azure's effusive thanks didn't embarrass Evan. He thoroughly enjoyed such accolades, whether they came from colleagues or a silicate alien lifeform.

  "You've done a lot for me. I'm just glad I was able to repay the favors."

  "To be unaffected by busck light. That is a fine ability to have. It compensates somewhat for your delicate body. If you will excuse me, I must now..."

  "I know." Evan smiled. He made himself a quick break­fast while Azure lay in the sun recharging his severely depleted system. The reason for his friend's unaccount­able exhaustion the night before was brought out in dis­cussion when Evan mentioned the business of sleeping.

  It developed that Azure did not "sleep" in, the same sense as a human being did. The state was more akin to hibernation. As its supply of solar energy was depleted, a diurnal lifeform like Azure gradually shut down all inter­nal systems save those required to maintain memory and other brain functions. In such a state it was at the mercy of nocturnal organosilicate predators and scavengers, who instead of the sun relied on a round‑the‑clock production of chemical energy. No wonder Azure had taken the time to seal himself in the cave he'd shared with Evan.

  Evan did not go on to explain that he was as able as any busck to function continuously during the long Pris­matic night. Let Azure surmise what he might about his tall companion's sleeping habits. Despite all the alien had done for him, Evan still couldn't bring himself to trust it completely. No doubt he was being unfair to Azure, but when one's very survival is at stake it's not the time to make assumptions about the motivations of aliens or to take chances. So that one little secret he kept to himself, for the time being.

  Nothing else sprang out at them to interrupt their jour­ney, and they reached Azure's Associative the following day. It was not what Evan had envisioned. He'd imagined Azure and his friends living in a larger cave or some kind of crude stone enclosure or community hut. He certainly didn't expect them to dwell within a cathedral.

  Much less a living one.

  Chapter Nine

  Is that what I think it is?”

  Azure sounded pleased. "Home. The Associative."

  Evan reached up to push back his specially made shades. He wanted a clear look at this miracle even if it did make his eyes water.

  Someone had taken a thousand rainbows, frozen the lot, and thrown them together in a bowl filled with a thousand gallons of transparent glue. Smooth curving walls were topped with intricate curlicues and spikes as sharp as they were beautiful. It glistened in the sunlight, a radiant testament to the architectural abilities of a race that could hardly be called primitive any longer.

  As it turned out, he was completely wrong, and for all the wrong reasons.

  "Wonderful," he murmured as he slipped his shades back down over his eyes and resumed his stride. "Who designed and built it?"

  "Designed? Built? You are confused. No one built it. It is the Associative."

  "We're not communicating." Evan couldn't take his eyes from the mirrored rainbow ramparts. In places the wall rose eight meters above the forest floor. "Someone built this structure for your friends and you to live within, right?"

  "I believe I see the cause of your confusion. The Asso­ciative not only lives within; the within itself is part of the Associative."

  "That doesn't clear it up," Evan replied dubiously. He slowed. Two creatures had abruptly appeared in front of them.

  They came up to Evan's waist. Both were jet black with crimson streaks running through them. They were thick, squat, heavily built, and their legs were concealed beneath the curving black shield that protected their flanks. Barbed spikes covered their sides and backs. Each held out a pair of arms ending in four‑fingered hands. The fingers were triangular and each side was as sharp as a scalpel. In each jaw a pair of sawtoothed disks rotated at high speed and produced a threatening whine.

  "Warriors. I will greet them."

  Evan nodded, waited patiently while his friend com­municated in high‑pitched squeals and hums to the two intimidating guards. Tiny well‑armored eyes regarded him emotionlessly.

  For a moment the two appeared to consult each other. Then they stepped aside. Evan glanced back and noted that they continued to observe his progress as he resumed his march toward the rainbow wall, but they did not fol­low.

  "Their station is behind us," Azure explained.

  "A different tribe allied to your own? They're certainly well equipped for fighting."

  "Different? No, they are the same. They are members of the Associative. Warriors, as I am a scout."

  "But you don't look anything like them."

  Azure stared up at his friend in confusion. "What does appearance have to do with anything?"

  Evan forbore from answering as he stopped before the wall. The brilliant highly reflective surface was composed of hexagonal shapes tightly interlocked.

  "Where's the gate?"

  "Gate? Oh, an opening. I was beginning to think we had lost the ability to understand one another's concepts." He broke off to emit a rapid high‑pitched series of beeps.

  Eyes appeared in the upper sections of several dozen blocks. Short, stubby hands emerged from the seams where the blocks joined. Incredibly strong grips were released. Like so many acrobats, the blocks unlinked and lowered themselves to the ground, forming a double line framing the newly created entrance. A gaping Evan strode through the magically formed gap, whereupon the blocks crawled and jumped back into position behind him. The wall was solid once again.

  "What were those?" He kept glancing back at the bar­rier. Here and there the seemingly solid structure would twist as one or two of the blocks tried to get a better look at the alien visitor without breaking ranks.

  "The walls, of course." Azure gestured forward with his front set of legs. "Here are the other members of the Associative."

  The spacious enclosure provided by the walls was filled with dozens of radically different lifeforms, each bus
y with its life task. The number of utterly alien shapes and colors took Evan's breath away. It was a xenobiologist's paradise. Azure guided him through the milling mass toward a definite destination.

  Each creature was as different from its neighbor as it was from Evan. Each specialized in providing a particular service to the Associative as a whole. All were true indi­viduals, Azure assured him, though some were more independent than others. Walls, for example, became paranoid if deprived for long of the company of other walls. So did the conduits, long brown tubular shapes linked together by short tentacles, whose job it was to carry excess rainwater away from the rest of the Associative.

  High above the community rose sweeping mirrored surfaces composed of slim polished bodies called flects. Their job it was to follow the sun's path across the sky and concentrate as much of its life‑giving energy as pos­sible on their fellow associates below.

  They were heading for the low hillock which dominated the center of the Associative. It was hollowed out by gatherers, Azure explained, who then filled it with those rare earths and minerals necessary to continued silicate good health. Processors refined these valuable substances according to the needs of the community, reducing and purifying them in their tough multiple gullets.

  A few hailed Azure curiously. Some he replied to, oth­ers he ignored. Walls were curious but stupid, he explained, while processors were interested in little but their work.

  They passed a creature which towered above the high­est of the community walls. It consisted of a spiral shell nearly ten meters tall, which ended in a crown composed of dozens of beautifully curved silicate projections. Evan saw no arms, but the base of the creature was rimmed with several dozen legs.