The Farpool (4 page)

Longsee was already moving in that direction.
“Let’s see—tell me about the capture…did you talk with it?”

The three of them floated to the containment
hold. The transparent pen was filled with treated water, but air
captured from Seome’s atmosphere, the Not-Water, had been added to
the hold, as the captive was an air-breathing creature.

They couldn’t pulse directly through the
structure, so they listened to its squeaks and whistles, and
watched.

Longsee ventured a question. “You had no
conversations?”

Pakma felt sorry for the thing. “We don’t
understand its language at all. It’s not like anything here…maybe
it’s not so intelligent after all.”

Longsee adjusted some controls, bringing up
the bio-luminescent lighting to full. “That’s still to be
determined…from what I can tell, the specimen is of the same
category as others you’ve brought back. It’s just a matter of
analyzing the sounds it makes—“

“They seem to use no tools we can find…they
live in open water, in small groups—that’s true—but they have no
observed technology, no communities like ours, no obvious
civilization of any type,” Kloosee said. “Longsee, we both saw
something that made us think these creatures are not the most
intelligent beings on the planet of the Umans.”

Longsee turned sharply. He pulsed
Kloosee, finding only
shoo’kel
, calm and controlled. No lies, no
deceit there. “What are you saying? That there’s another
species?”

Pakma related what had happened with the
Tailless people in the surface craft, how they had assaulted
Kloosee with a long rod. “We had to suppress them…they were
interfering…but they were like the Umans here, true beings of the
Not-Water. It was their eyes…the intelligent way they looked at
you—the way they reacted…I think this should be investigated.”

Longsee was skeptical. “We’ve always
believed the
klek
were the
dominant people on that world…the most intelligent. But I’ve been
discussing this with the
Mektoo
and I have to admit there are those on the council who think
these
klek
you’ve been
bringing back have so far exhibited nothing like the sentience or
intelligence of a level that could be helpful to us. There was even
a proposal to show the Umans one of these
klek
and ask their opinion. I think that is a
bad idea, personally—“

Kloosee was dubious. “The Umans think of us
as really intelligent pets, no more. We won’t get anything from
them.”

Pakma wanted to press the issue. “The
creatures that attacked us…whatever we call them—I think we should
propose a mission to capture one or more of them…bring some back
for study. They do resemble the Umans, in a lot of ways.”

Longsee watched the
klek
circling, nosing at them through the glass,
staring, wondering at them. It was clearly a curious creature. But
the language—much more study would be needed, much more time. It
was time they didn’t have.

Longsee seemed to have come to a
decision. Kloosee and Pakma both could tell. The Director pulsed
like the rough waters of the Serpentine gap when he had to make a
decision, weighing all the pros and cons, judging all sides.
No
shoo’kel
inside Longsee…he
was a turbulent cauldron that never showed externally…that was
always calm and placid. But inside—when you were a director of a
project directly authorized by the Metah and her council, you could
get away with that. It was bad form, even offensive, for most
Omtorish, but Longsee was never one to follow convention. Kloosee
had always liked that about him.

“I’ll take this up with the
Mektoo
. You’re both right…we seem to
be at a standstill in what we can learn from the
klek
. But more study will need more
time. The Metah is already impatient…the wavemaker, the Sound, it’s
getting worse. And the Umans don’t care what they’re doing to the
waters…they’re fighting their war and we’re no concern of theirs.
But, Kloosee—“ Longsee came over and drifted directly beside him,
“the lifeship will need modifying…how large are these
creatures?”

“Like the Umans, in every way. A fraction of
beat in length, similar width and mass. They’re full breathers of
the Not-Water….”

Longsee was already figuring out the
details. “The lifeship and the
kip’t
will have to modified to accommodate that.
Do you think you can do that? Can you bring back a specimen or
two?”

Kloosee said, “It can be done. But I’ll need
your help. And the lab. The more mass we add to the lifeship, the
greater the instabilities inside the Farpool.”

“Yes,” said Longsee, now warming to the idea.
“Yes, yes…we must work on this. I have a technician—Tamarek lu, you
know him, I think…he can help. He’s very good with these things.
Tamarek can fashion anything…just give him the right tools.”

“Then you’ll take this before the
Metah?” Pakma asked. She eyed the
klek
circling and circling, anxious, she could
tell, though they couldn’t pulse the thing directly.
Poor thing. It’s lost, frightened.

“Of course. We have no choice. The
Umans won’t listen to our problems. They won’t even talk with us
anymore. ‘
It’s the War…we have a
mission…you’re just exaggerating.’
Already there’s
talk of building some kind of sound shield to cover up the
wavemaker, even talk of making an attack on the Tailless base at
Kinlok…Bikloo ank tried that many
mah
before, but the mission failed. Time is
growing short…no, I’m sure the Metah will listen. And if she
decides, the
Mek’too
will
have to go along.”

Kloosee tried swimming alongside
the
klek
as it made a
circuit, swimming along the front of the hold. Curious, even
annoyed, the creature stopped short and nosed up to the
glass.
It has sad eyes
,
Kloosee thought.
Forlorn,
even
. Captured by strange beings like us. Prisoner in
a strange sea. Maybe the Umans feel the same way. Stuck on Seome, a
world they don’t like, fighting a war they didn’t want, against an
enemy they don’t understand. Neither side really understanding what
the other side needs.

Just like this
klek
, he decided.

Longsee was as good as his word, taking the
request for a new expedition to the Metah and her council. Debate
was limited; they could all hear the Sound and feel the vibrations
from the wavemaker. Already, seams of rock from the seamounts had
been loosened, falling and damaging structures inside the city.
Much of Omsh’pont’s life was conducted outside anyway; people
roamed and chatted, but not so much now. Life in the largest city
of the kel was muted, people were depressed, conversations were
hurried, clipped, pulses were becoming useless, you couldn’t tell
what anyone was thinking or feeling anymore.

It was the same throughout the world.
Even the
ootstek
, the
repeaters who roamed between the kels, passing messages on that
didn’t reflect properly, were muted and their voices muffled and
subdued, lost in the clamor that the Uman weapon
created.

The
Metah
, Iltereedah luk’t, was a vigorous older
female of nearly two hundred
mah
, arthritic and stiff in places but much
loved and respected by all. She had only one question for Longsee
and his entourage.

“These
eekoti
you speak of…you say they resemble the
Umans at Kinlok? Can they help us with the Umans…speak with
them…convince them to move the wavemaker?”

Longsee tried to keep
shoo’kel
. You didn’t go before
the
Metah
with your insides
bubbling like a steam vent…calm and cool, that was the
answer.

“Honorable
Metashook’let
, the travelers tell me this. We
think the Farpool takes us to the homeworld of the Umans, but back
in time, many
metamah
back,
so that the
eekoti
they
observed are like ancestors, perhaps like our Five Daughters with
Shooki.” It was protocol to address the
Metah
in highly stilted, formal language…Longsee
had to think about the forms and what to say and how to say them.
“Their words are similar, so their language must be similar. If we
could bring back a specimen or two, it’s possible they could talk
with the Umans…that would make communication much easier. Then we
could convince them of the damage the wavemaker is
doing.”

Iltereedah considered that, methodically
pulsing Longsee and his assistants from the lab, one by one,
seeking deceit, other purposes, the telltale bubbles of doubt. She
found none and so approved the expedition. Kloosee and Pakma would
make the trip.

Longsee then accompanied the two of
them to the
em’kel
Tu’klek,
on the far side of the city, to meet the master craftsman Tamarek
lu. It was a sobering excursion through Omsh’pont, through the
floating spheres and domes and platforms and canopies, all stayed
with guidewire and cable to the seamount, a three-dimensional
lattice of enclosures and domiciles and shops and berthing spaces
and restaurants, now largely empty of the usually gregarious
roamings of the people. The water was
m’eetor’kelte
, rough and turbid, not good for
strolling around.

So the citizens stayed away, roaming in the
lee of the seamounts and beyond, seeking calmer water.

Tu’klek was a small
em’kel
, the shop tucked in the folds of the
seamount Meta’shpont, a small cave-like place dimly lit with
luminescent bulbs drifting like seaweed. Tamarek lu ran the place
with a small force of interns and apprentices, hovering over his
charges like a stern father, never pleased, barking at their
mistakes, offering faint praise for jobs well done.

He and Longsee nosed each other and pulsed
formally. Tamarek scrunched up his face at what he got back.

“Longsee, you’re upset. Or excited, maybe. I
see it. Look at all that commotion inside you…what’s got you so
riled up?”

The Lab director explained what had happened,
the Metah’s approval of a new expedition, the modifications that
would be needed to the transfer pod.

“These creatures, Tamarek…we’re calling
them
eekoti
for lack of a
better word…they breathe Not-Water. Hard to believe, but it’s true.
Kloosee here, and Pakma, saw them on their last trip through. And
they’re going back. We’re hoping they can bring us a few specimens.
The
Metah
thinks these
eekoti
can help us with the Umans at
Kinlok.”

Tamarek chewed on that for a moment.
“Yes? I’ll believe that when I see it. Umans are like
k’orpuh
, only not quite as long and
slimy. But they’ll sting you given half a chance. You want a new
transfer pod, eh? Let’s see what we can do—“

The next few days were taken up with
Tamarek and his crew building and testing a new pod that could be
towed through the Farpool by the lifeship, a habitable space
suitable for creatures that only breathed Not-Water. While Longsee
worked with Tamarek, and Pakma drifted away to visit old friends
somewhere in the higher spaces of the seamounts, Kloosee decided to
look up an old
em’kel
-mate…Tulcheah kim. It wasn’t a roam he
wanted. Or a chat over old times. Kloosee wanted something more,
something closer. A coupling like they used to do.

He found her in the em’kel’s berth space,
occupying herself with a scentbulb. She seemed pleasantly surprised
to see him and they nuzzled for a few moments.

“Well, look at you,” she teased,
circling to inspect her visitor. “I never expected such a famous
kelke to come nosing around his old homewaters…all sleek and shiny.
And such happy bubbles, my word…
litorkel
ge
, old friend.”

Kloosee let her have her way. “Calmwaters to
you too, Tulcheah. I wanted to see you. Pakma and I are going
back—“

Tulcheah stopped him with a playful poke in
the sides. “I know that…nothing stays secret around here for long,
you know that. How’s Pakma…I hear she couples like a fat
pal’penk.”

Kloosee knew it was best to let Tulcheah get
all the ribbing and jealous sneers out of her system. You could
pulse the envy inside her…no one could hide all those bubbles.

“I won’t dignify that with an answer. Pakma’s
a good person. She’s smart, lots of stamina…I’d like to see you in
the Farpool, Tulcheah…you’d be plastered all over the lifeship,
screaming the whole time.”

Tulcheah played at being hurt. “So try me.
I’ll make the trip. I’m not afraid of the Farpool.”

“That’s not why I came.”

“I know why you came…it’s written all over
your insides. A blind tillet could see it halfway around the world.
What makes you think I’m in the mood?” Tulcheah held up her
scentbulbs; she had a tray of them and she was methodically opening
and inhaling each one.

“For the love of
Shooki
…the whole place smells like a seamother
herd…what do you think you’re doing?”