Howling Stones (29 page)

“That is so,” the base’s second-in-command conceded.

“I think there may actually be less here than meets the eye,” Essasu continued. “Operation may be no more than
a matter of shoving two stones together and giving them room. Certainly they exhibit nothing in the way of visible switches, controls, or touch-sensitive contact points.”

Near the rear of the column, Vuikak was considering many of the very same points. Once back at the station, the stones would be turned over to the base specialists for detailed study. As an administrator, he would be left out of the excitement. The stones must be simple to use. Why not try two of them out and be the one to receive the credit for discovering their function?

He would avoid the potentially dangerous transport stones in favor of something simple, domestic. Already he felt he’d been passed over twice for promotion. At his present rate of advancement, with eleven clan-family designates following his given name, he would die of old age long before achieving a five-designate level like Commander Essasu.

Unless he did something dramatic to merit exceptional notice.

He broached the idea to Prenkip, the lowest-ranking member of the expedition. The technician was hesitant.

“I do not know, Vuikak. The stones are dangerous. Better they be examined under controlled conditions.”

“What controlled conditions?” Vuikak was not to be denied. “The natives make use of them openly, with nothing in the way of visible safeguards.”

“What about what is said to have happened to the human?”

Vuikak performed a gesture of first-degree dismissal coupled with overtones of disgust. “The human was stupid. We are not. Surely we can abort any reaction if it appears to be getting out of hand.”

Prenkip’s resistance weakened. Like Vuikak, he would not be counted among those charged with learning the
stones’ secrets, and he badly wanted to see a demonstration of these rumored powers.

His fellow tech pressed him. “What if the stones do nothing? What if they are no more than what they appear to be—the inert talismans of a primitive alien species? Suppose the tale of the transported human is only a fiction, designed to confuse and trouble us?”

“Two members of the commanders’ expedition to Torrelau did not return,” Prenkip mumbled. “Talk is that they were killed by stones.”

Vuikak snorted in disgust. “No one believes that. The commander committed fatal errors. Blaming two deaths on the natives is a way of deflecting responsibility from himself. No doubt the missing ones drowned during the storm, or were struck by one of the many poisonous creatures that inhabit these islands.

“Consider! If this is all a clever ploy by the humans, they will even as we speak be readying themselves to benefit from our theft of these stones. If we can prove that they are incapable of anything save the reflection of green light, we will have performed a valuable service. If not, we will be the first nye to descry one of their true functions.”

Prenkip pondered the possibilities. “You really think all this stone business may be nothing more than a human ruse to discredit us with the Mallatyahans?”

“It makes more sense to me than tales of green rocks disappearing troopers and humans,” Vuikak replied with fervor. “Why should we not find out for ourselves?”

“Why not, indeed?”

Vuikak pushed the argument home. “What is the harm in placing, say, two of the designated ‘growing’ stones together? That if this is not all fiction we will be overwhelmed by a surfeit of fresh vegetables?”

Finally persuaded, Prenkip gestured consent. “We
should do this here, away from the base.” Already bringing up the rear of the column, they purposely let themselves fall farther behind. In the fading light of evening, no one took notice.

To further ensure that they would be able to carry out their experiment unimpeded, Vuikak unwrapped the first stone from Prenkip’s pack as they walked. Falling behind his companion, the technician returned the favor. Shielding the stones from sight of their comrades with their bodies, the two AAnn examined the specimens.

“See? Lumps of green glass is all they are,” Vuikak insisted. “Volcanic slag, static and harmless.”

Prenkip had noted the labels on the respective wrappings. “You were right. These are growing stones. It will be fascinating to observe if they do anything and comparatively harmless if they do.”

“The procedure is to bring them together carefully to see if they merge. At least, that is what is supposed to happen.”

Prenkip turned the uneven olivine mass over in his scaly fingers. “None of the exposed faces appears shaped to fit into any other. I suppose we just push them against each other?”

“That is the rumor.” Vuikak made eye contact with the technician. “If any kind of reaction ensues, we pull them apart. Agreed?” Prenkip gestured understanding and assent.

Out of sight of the rest of the group, they brought both masses together. A soft
click
ensued. That was all. No blinding flash of light, no aural implosion, no surreal distortion of reality—just an ordinary-sounding
click
. It was exactly what one would expect to hear from knocking two rocks together.

Vuikak was at once disappointed, angry, and relieved. “See?” he told his partner in experimentation. “I was
right. This whole business of the sacred stones having mysterious powers is nonsense, a product of the perverse human imagination. They have deceived us.” He lifted his gaze to the rest of the troop, marching stolidly along just ahead. “We must inform the commander.”

“Perhaps we performed the procedure incorrectly.” Having taken so long to be persuaded, Prenkip wasn’t quite ready to give up. “Let us try once more.”

A disgruntled Vuikak reluctantly agreed. “Very well. But it is evident that we have been wasting our time.”

Turning the stones so that different sides faced each other, they brought them into contact a second time. The result was—another
click
.

“Rocks.” A thoroughly disgusted Vuikak eyed the specimen he was holding. “Utilizing native mythology and a little imagination, the humans have fooled us badly. But you and I have discovered the subterfuge in time. We will tell the commander, and the stones can be returned to their holding places before any serious harm is done to our diplomatic efforts among the Parramati.” He extended a hand to the technician. “Here—give me that useless thing!”

So saying, and before Prenkip thought to object, Vuikak took the second stone and whacked it angrily against the one he already held. The resulting noise sounded exactly like two lumps of volcanic glass striking one another: a
click
magnified. Disdainfully he dumped both of them by the side of the narrow trail, onto a patch of short grassy growth.

“I still think we may be doing something wrong.” Having had promotion and glory waved wildly in front of him, Prenkip was now reluctant to surrender the vision.

“What? What could we possibly be doing wrong?” Vuikak was deeply disheartened. “Look at these things.”
He kicked one of the stones. It rolled up against the second and lay there, motionless and inert. “It is time to inform the commander.” So saying, he raised his voice and hissed importantly.

“Perhaps the only stones that generate unexpected effects lie on Torrelau,” Prenkip suggested.

Vuikak watched as those at the rear of the column turned. “If that is the case, then it is up to the commander to find a means of dealing with them. Regardless, it does not alter our situation here. These useless rocks must still be returned to their owners and our status among them preserved.”

As the other members of the expedition gathered around the two unauthorized experimenters, Vuikak told them what had occurred. Essasu listened gravely, waiting until the technician had finished before commenting.

“I should have you downgraded in rank and transferred, but it seems you have saved all of us a great embarrassment.” He nodded in the direction of the two stones lying by the side of the trail. “Show me.”

Vuikak nodded. Bending, he picked up the two growing stones and brought them together. He did this repeatedly, without visible consequence.

“If among the Parramati only the stones of Torrelau have the kind of hidden power we witnessed firsthand,” Piarai whispered to his superior, “then we will have to obtain specimens from that island.”

Essasu nodded resignedly. “A far more difficult proposition, but not an impossible one. After we have returned these stones to their ‘masters,’ we will return to base. Tomorrow I will consider proposals for a surreptitious collecting expedition to Torrelau. Now I am tired, and greatly frustrated.” Stepping forward, he put a clawed hand on Vuikak’s shoulder.

“I will not downgrade or otherwise censor you.” He glanced at Prenkip. “Either of you. But I cannot promote you for disobeying orders. The most I can offer is my personal gratitude.” He withdrew the hand and turned to address the others.

“The stones in our possession must be taken back. We will claim they were stolen by agents of the humans—the agenting species needn’t be identified. In gaining the gratefulness of the locals for their return, we may yet see some profit from this day’s work.”

Piarai was properly admiring. “An astute turning of a regretful situation, Commander.”

“Thank you,” Essasu hissed. “It may be that the events that unfolded before us that night on Torrelau had nothing to do with so-called sacred stones and were the result of some action or activity the source of which is still unknown to us. There is much we do not know about this world. From now on I will be most reluctant to jump to excitable conclusions about anything having to do with native mythology.”

Piarai was dutifully supportive. “The history of imperial exploration among aboriginal cultures is fraught with research that yielded little that was useful at first but that proved highly salutary later.”

Essasu made a casual gesture of agreement and turned away, muttering to himself. “Why did I not see it earlier? Some other mechanism was responsible for the debacle outside the human station. The humans themselves may even have been involved. I can imagine them enjoying a diversion at our expense. Well, we will uncover the truth, and then will come the reckoning.” Removing the weather stone he was carrying, he let it fall by his feet. It bounced once, struck the two growing stones, and rolled to a stop.

“Thanks to the enterprise of these two,” he declared, indicating the attentive Prenkip and Vuikak, “we have learned something valuable and been spared much trouble.”

Yaarinda considered the onset of night. “Could we not wait until tomorrow to return the stones, Commander?”

“I know that everyone is tired. I believe that I am more tired than most,” Essasu replied. “But I wish to put an end to this. We have lights and adequate instrumentation to allow us to find our way and retrace our steps. I will sleep better knowing that relations between ourselves and the people of this island have been maintained.”

Yaarinda bowed her head deferentially. “It shall be as you desire, Commander.”

Essasu turned away. “Piarai, you and I will return to base. There is real work to be done. The others can take back the stones. Yaarinda, you will take charge of the returning. Remember our story: they were stolen by unknown agents of the humans on Torrelau and we, at some danger to ourselves, succeeded in recovering them for our friends the Mallatyahans. We can expect them to be grateful.”

Removing the remaining two stones he carried from his pack, Essasu tossed them on the ground next to the three already there. The other members of the party could redistribute them as they saw fit. Piarai removed the pair of stones he carried and added them to the accumulated mass.

When the last stone made contact with the small pile, the agglomeration fused instantly. A rush of green radiance brighter than the noonday sun burst violently forth, shocking Essasu’s pupils into temporary blindness.

When he was able to focus again he saw that the island had vanished, along with the evening sky of slate blue-black, jungle and trail, clouds and grass. All that remained
of the familiar were his equally dazed subordinates—and the stones.

They had melted together into a single misshapen mass that pulsed with energy the hue of newfound emeralds. It had a faint brown tint to it and hovered an arm’s length above the ground, rotating slowly like a miniature green sun. Like angular, deformed planets, the helpless and bewildered members of the expedition orbited the consequence of their own accidental creation.

Barely visible within the agglutinated mass was an incredibly dense network of interwoven black filaments and other … things. Some of them seemed to be alive, or at least conveyed the illusion of life.

“What happened?” That sounded like technician Vuikak, shouting but oddly muffled.

“The stones.” Piarai rotated listlessly nearby. “The stones
do
work, do have power. Everything depends on how they are combined. Sequence may be as important as type.”

“Roads,” observed Yaarinda softly. “One needs to know the right roads.”

“There is great significance in all this.” Essasu felt light as a feather, free and alive. The last lingering effects of the light burst had faded and he found that he could see clearly all around him. He just wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

They appeared to be drifting in a vast swirling void, a silent three-dimensional maelstrom of green and black cloud. In the distance, prickly flashes of light took on peculiar shapes, like sculpted lightning. It was not true weightlessness, but something else. Something
other
.

An obsidian coil showed itself and darted toward the lightning. One by one it enveloped and consumed the darting spikes, which gave every evidence of attempting to escape. When it was through, it gave the unmistakable
impression of turning to face the bewildered travelers. Essasu’s tongue caught in his throat.

The coil twisted fiercely in upon itself and vanished into a vortex of its own making.

They were not alone here, he thought to himself. Wherever
here
was. It did not feel friendly, and he was not comfortable.