The Light-years Beneath My Feet (11 page)

“What can we do about it?” Walker wondered aloud as he watched the massive Tuuqalian shuffle off toward the exit.

Both eyes curled back on their stalks to look at him. “Why not ask your good friend Viyv-pym?”

Was there a hidden suggestiveness in the Tuuqalian’s question? Nonsense, Walker told himself. It was a good idea. The only trouble was, he had on more than one occasion pressed Viyv-pym about the lack of response to their requests, only to receive evasive, noncommittal answers similar to those received by George tonight. That in itself was suggestive.

And not at all reassuring.

“A fraction of you evening-time, might I have?”

His companions having departed, Walker had remained behind to check and ensure that the last of the equipment that had been cleaned by his assistants had been properly deactivated for storage. Thinking himself alone in the empty Niyyuuan durbar hall, he was surprised to find himself confronting a single female.

She was notably shorter than the average Niyyuuan; no taller than himself, and for one of her kind, verging on stout. Her crest was fully erected and flaring a dark blue—taken together with the constant fluttering of her tails, a sure sign of anxiety. In attire she was, again by Niyyuuan standards, conservative, her body wrap consisting of a single yellow- and white-striped satiny material. But her eyes, like those of all Niyyuu, were large and luminous as those of any lemur, and her voice as raspy as that of a lathe shaping wrought iron.

“I am Sobj-oes. I am senior instructor in distant astronautics and vector navigation not only for Kojn-umm, but a consultant for four other realms as well.” A two-fingered hand moved to touch his shoulder. By now wholly familiar with the intimate form of greeting, he did not flinch.

“You enjoyed the presentation, I take it?” he asked her, not knowing what else to say.

“Very much so’s.” She looked around, high, limber ears working. They were alone. “Yous wish go home.”

Keeping his voice level, he tried not to look or sound anxious, even assuming she could recognize the meaning of such subtle changes in tone or personal appearance. “That would be a valid assumption, as my friend Sequi’aranaqua’na’senemu would say. But in order to continue our journey from here, from Niyu, we need the assistance of others. To help point the way. Others such as, perhaps, yourself.”

Her free hand made a gesture he recognized as an encouraging response. “Yous sentient creatures, not all so very different from Niyyuu. Appearance means nothing.” The two fingers of her left hand gently stroked the side of her elongated skull. “What is here is everything.

“I am one of those who was made aware of yous’ request, to try locate your homeworlds. This is very difficult business. Even one arm of galaxy is immensity personified. Thousands upon thousands of star systems.”

“Astronautics are developed on all of our worlds, so my friends and I are aware of that. All we have is hope, and that others might help. That’s all we’ve been asking of the government of Kojn-umm, and the worldwide organizations that link the Niyyuu together on matters such as science. To date, we have had no response.”

Once more his visitor glanced around. With her expansive oculars, it did not require her to turn her head very far to do so. “Yous’ query
was
passed along. But with accompanying admonition.”

Walker frowned. “What sort of admonition?”

“To conduct search for yous’ homeworlds, in line with yous’ request. But not to displace other work to do so, also not to make priority.”

“I see.” He considered carefully. From his years in the business of commodities trading, Walker was intimately familiar with the subtleties of bureaucratic obfuscation—with the ability to seem to say one thing while really meaning another. “Would you say that your ‘admonition’ might be interpreted to mean an order to go slow in the search for the homeworlds of my friends and I?”

Her right hand lightly touched his chest. “Many interpretations of meaning are possible. That could be one.”

“But why?”

She looked away, embarrassed without having any reason to be. “Yous four all unique individuals. No others like you on Niyu, ever. No others like you on Seremathenn, or anywhere else scientific establishment can determine. Your presence here a special thing for Niyu. Extraspecial for Kojn-umm. Pride involved. Pride and logic frequently mutually exclusive occurrences. Besides, you extraordinary food preparator.”

He nodded slowly, murmuring to himself, “So George was right. The authorities want to keep us here.”

“Not necessarily prevent from leaving,” she corrected him. “More akin to not be overly helpful in assisting departure. Difference is political.”

“But the result is the same,” he muttered. “If the government won’t help us, then we’re stuck here.”

“Not government, no.” Her voice softened from the intensely grating to the merely irritating. “Are one or two sympathetic individuals among my colleagues. Must be careful in such work. All afraid, if displease superiors, of losing official position. Few willing take such risking on behalf of strange aliens.”

He lowered his own voice. “But you will,” he guessed expectantly.

Another gesture he recognized—this one signifying accord. “Is also one other. Famous researcher, much revered by public as well as colleagues. But not untouchable. Must work clandestine, he and I. Have taken what information on yous has been made available by government. In free time, away from official projects, are searching the vastness for transmission samplings of all yous: visuals, language snippets, references by other species not yous but knowing of yous. Maybe, with much lucks, come across something.” She eyed him questioningly. “You can suggest preference in area for searching?”

He mulled her query. His companions had long since departed for their own quarters. Alone with the astronomer, it would have been easy for him to instruct her and her distinguished colleague to limit their searching for signs of human life only, to look first for Earth. The sarcastic Sque and the lumbering Braouk could wait their turn.

But what if K’erem or Tuuqalia lay nearby, within easier detection range of Niyyuuan instruments? Could he deny that access, that chance, to people who had gone through the hell of Vilenjji capture and captivity with him? And they were his friends, even if one had a mouth that sometimes seemed bigger than her whole body and the other tended to bore to distraction when he wasn’t threatening to accidentally crush anything and anyone who happened to come too close to him. As for George, he knew what the dog would say.

But it wasn’t what he chose to say.

“No. No preferences. Whichever of our respective homeworlds whose position you can establish, that will be great. K’erem, Tuuqalia, Earth: locate one and we’ll manage a way to get there. Then we’ll worry about finding the others.”

She indicated her understanding. “I hope we can help yous. Is not right be kept so long and so far from one’s own kind when that gap can be spanned. Of course, certain is, the very good chance in attempting search such an immense area that we will not be able locate any of yous’ homeworlds.”

Extending a hand and keeping his touch as light as possible, he let it stroke her right shoulder in the accepted Niyyuuan manner. “It’s enough that someone is trying to help. That you’re looking.”

She gestured one last time before turning to go. “Niyu not such a bad place. Maybe not Seremathenn, but good air, good food, good people. If search never find anything, yous always have respected life-positions here. Meantimes, keep cheerful.” Lengthening her flowing stride, she left him standing among his equipment, watching her distinctive slight sway as she exited the room.

She was right. Despite the constant undercurrent of devious political and cultural machinations, Niyu offered him and his friends a comfortable life and lifestyle.

But no matter how one sliced it, it was a long, long way from Chicago.

7

H
e was not aware of any outward change in his mood or appearance subsequent to his clandestine meeting with the kindhearted astronomer, but evidently something about either or both struck Viyv-pym forcefully enough to comment on it. It was several ten-days after his surreptitious encounter. Viyv-pym was meeting with him in his quarters to discuss the final details of an elaborate banquet that was being prepared for an interrealm guild of computation engineers, at which his performance was to be the star attraction.

Bending her head slightly to avoid the assembling components that drifted in the air before them both, she tried to meet his gaze. “Something troubles you, friend Marc. It not new. I have been noticing for some time now. Will you not share with me?”

So preoccupied and depressed was he at the moment that her proximity failed to stir within him the usual basket of confused emotions he always felt in her presence. “It’s nothing. Forget it.” Sighing softly, he looked up at the integrants that patiently awaited his attention and did his best to feign interest in the proceedings. “Let’s get back to work.”

“No.” Reaching out with a long, limber arm, she waved her hand through the hovering holos. They obediently dispersed.

Now he did turn to her. “What did you do that for? It’s all saved, but now we’ll have to reconstitute before we can finalize.”

“Too much works you, maybe, I thinks. You need a change.”

He could no longer look at her without wondering how deeply she was involved with or how much she was aware of her government’s intention to keep him and his friends restricted to Niyu for as long as possible. He had become very adept at concealing such feelings.

“I’m open to a change,” he replied indifferently. Work or a change, it was all the same to him. Both were relentlessly, inescapably Niyyuuan.

Ennui notwithstanding, the comment she offered in response did succeed in surprising him. “There many prominent Niyyuu who admire you work. Prominent among them is Saluu-hir-lek.”

Walker shrugged carelessly. “Don’t recognize the name.” Other than those Niyyuu he worked with, such as Viyv-pym and his own performance assistants, he had not paid much attention to individuals among their hosts. He had met too many to remember them all.

“He attend you first important recital. Saluu-hir-lek is traditional military commander for Kojn-umm, defender of the realm, leader of conventional defense of Jalar-aad-biidh.”

“Very nice for him. What has it to do with me?”

“He wants meet you.” She was watching him closely, he saw.

“I’m happy to meet with any Niyyuu who appreciates my work,” he replied expansively. “When would he like to get together?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Tomorrow would work well. I am told is at that time likely to be lull in fighting.”

“Tomorrow’s fine. Mind if I invite my friends along?”

“They not specifically included in invitation, but should be not problem, I think. I will make certain beforehand. You have experience in combat?”

Whup. Evidently he had missed something. Something important. She now had his full attention. “What has that got to do with me meeting this guy?”

“Battle for fortress of Jalar-aad-biidh is ongoing. Saluu-hir-lek cannot relinquish command merely to facilitate friendly visit. Therefore meeting must take place in fortress. Reaching fortress means crossing line of technological demarcation. Once cross line, any normal Niyyuu is subsumed in rules of traditional combat. Can be captured or killed.” Seeing his alarm, she hastened to reassure him.

“Line crossing will take place under proper escort, timed for least likelihood of combat. But when making crossing, must always go prepared. Settle you fears. I will watch over you.”

He bridled instinctively at the offer. As an ex All Big Ten linebacker, no member of the opposite sex, alien or not, was going to “watch over him.” At the same time, he was perfectly aware as the testosterone fizzed within him that he was being stupid, that his present circumstances hardly merited comparison with accomplishments on a football field back home. That did not render the implications inherent in her thoughtful offer any less potent.

“As a matter of fact,” he shot back, “I do have some experience in hand-to-hand combat, though probably not the kind you’re thinking of.”

“I pleased hear this. You will be equipped with authorized weaponry.” She studied his build, which was far stockier than that of the stoutest Niyyuu. “Armor may be a problem. Perhaps by linking several pieces together         .         .         .” She broke off. “Not to worry. It will be managed.”

“Won’t matter,” he told her, “with Braouk accompanying us.”

But it developed that Braouk was not interested in accompanying them.

“I say firmly, no interest have I, in fighting,” the Tuuqalian replied when Walker explained the situation to him that night.

“It’s highly unlikely you’ll have to.” Pacing the dining area, unable to eat, Walker worked to cajole the big alien. “The sight of you in armor alone ought to be enough to send even the most intrepid Niyyuu fleeing. Hell, it even makes
me
quake a little, and you’re my friend.”

Avoiding Walker’s gaze, both eyes hovered close together above the Tuuqalian’s massive plate of food, their stalks nearly touching. “But if they did not flee, I would have to defend myself. You know what, my temper can be, once roused. I do not want to get involved in the interregional disputes of our hosts, and I most certainly do not want to hurt anybody. I’m not going with you, Marc.”

“Fine. Stay here, then.” He turned to Sque.

The K’eremu had swollen to half again her normal size, and her flexible, tubular mouth was emitting bubbles like crazy. This uncontrolled laughter was sufficient to prevent Walker from even asking her if she would be willing to accompany him. Thinking he already knew the answer to his final appeal but nonetheless feeling compelled to make it, he turned to George, only to be surprised yet again by another of the dog’s unpredictable responses.

“Sure, I’ll go up with you,” his small friend declared around mouthfuls of food. “Be a chance to see something new. If there’s an attack on the place while we’re up there, it ought to be quite a show.”

Walker hardly knew what to say. “I thought you, of all people, wouldn’t want to get involved in any fighting.”

The dog looked up from his meal. “Who said anything about getting involved in fighting? If your whippet of a girlfriend—”

“She’s
not
my girlfriend,” Walker snapped irritably.

“—says they’re going to try their best to sneak us in, then I think it’s worth a shot. Besides, we’ll be crossing part of a battlefield.” He smiled, showing small but sharp canines. “There’s likely to be bones.”

“The Niyyuu might not take kindly to the thought of an alien visitor nibbling on the remains of their kind.”

Lips pulled back, the smile remained. “I hope I get the chance to find out.” Sticking his face back into the server before him, he returned to his feeding.

Both Sque’s laughter and body swelling having settled down, the K’eremu eyed her human companion shrewdly. “I know you too well by now, Marcus Walker. You have not accepted this invitation out of a desire simply to play tourist. Especially not with a chance of real danger, however minimized, involved. You have another rationale in mind.”

He turned defensive. “Maybe.”

She waved a pair of tendrils at him. “Would you care to share it with us poor unenlightened ones?”

“I’m still considering possibilities,” he told her honestly. He took a deep breath. “It just occurred to me that since we’re not making any headway in our efforts to engage the Niyyuuan scientific community in our efforts to progress homeward, it might prove useful to make a friend or two among the military.”

“Planning to lead a revolt and take over the pound?” George challenged him.

“I don’t believe the Niyyuu think like that,” Walker replied.

“How do they think about such things, then?” Sque inquired thoughtfully.

Round brown eyes locked with silvery horizontal orbs. “That’s one of the things I’m going to try and find out,” he told her.

The transport that conveyed them through the bustling, modern, smoothly running city and up into the foothills of the surrounding mountain range stopped well short of the line of demarcation.

“From here we walk,” Viyv-pym informed Walker and George. “As you been informed, only minor contemporary technology is allowed inside areas designated for traditional combat. Not even communicators. Communication from within is carried out by courier, in old-time manner.”

What a polite method of killing one another these people have devised, Walker reflected as he exited the transport. Employing strictly defined rules and limitations, slaughter and slaying could be conducted enthusiastically, with every individual and government firmly bound by the results. Certainly it was a better way than reducing entire territories to ruin and whole populaces to penury. Pity it would never work for humankind.

As George trotted to and fro, sniffing hopefully at the corkscrewing ground cover and bizarrely shaped bushes that clung to the slight slope, Walker decided that their hostess looked even better in sword and armor than she did in her usual daily administrative attire. Tinted a dark golden hue, almost bronze, the armor covered her in linked engraved piecework from neck to feet. Her helmet sported holes to allow her tall ears to protrude easily and a ruler-sized slab to protect the flattened, narrow nasal crest while leaving the rest of her face and her enormous eyes free to scan her surroundings in as many unobstructed directions as possible.

For the ascent, they were accompanied by half a dozen similarly clad soldiers. Though all were well trained in the use of modern wave and projectile weapons, inside the restricted zone none carried anything more lethal than a rapier or throwing blade. A couple hefted loaded weapons that resembled small crossbows. In deference to the Niyyuuan’s slender builds, none of the devices weighed very much.

Despite Viyv-pym’s earlier assurances, it developed that none of the armor available could be made to fit Walker. He was three times as broad across the chest as the stoutest Niyyuu, and fifty pounds heavier. The “heavy broadsword” they gave him would have been hard-pressed to qualify back home as a saber in a fencing competition. Which did not matter, since what little he knew about swords, fencing, and armor was derived entirely from watching old movies on television. He could only hope that in the event of actual conflict, his natural athleticism would carry him through.

“Should not be any trouble,” Viyv-pym reassured him as she adjusted her shoulder braces. “We make access from south. Toroud-eed prefer frontal attack on fortress, also careful to watch access road from west to prevent reinforcements from relieving Jalar-aad-biidh garrison. East and south are open. And forest here will provide cover.”

Nodding, he followed her as the small contingent continued to climb.

He was not certain exactly when or where they crossed the line of demarcation. Only that while he struggled uphill, George was having entirely too good a time, dashing from each new growth to the next fresh smell. Walker had always done well in the sprints—but long runs defeated him. And he had never been required to run wind sprints uphill. In college, running the stadium seats was an activity that had thankfully been reserved for backs and receivers, safeties and corners.

Evening was settling in damply around them when the first soldier died. The bolt, or short arrow, caught him in the throat, in the vulnerable opening above the chest armor and below his helmet. Shouts erupted all around Walker as the air was filled with alien exclamations unimaginably harsh in tone. Giving loud and threatening lie to Viyv-pym’s earlier assurances, armed Niyyuu burst from the cover of the stunted trees on both sides of the ascending party. The attackers wielded an amazing assortment of weapons, from blades that curled back upon themselves to almost form circles, to pikelike devices that terminated in barbed tips seemingly more suited to catching fish than hand-to-hand combat. They were designed, he realized quickly, for successfully striking at quarry that was nimble and fast but not especially muscular. Though tall, the ultraslim Niyyuu made difficult targets for thrusting spears and swords.

He had just enough time to also note that the attackers’ armor was steel-gray instead of golden-bronze before he found himself wildly swinging his own sword in an attempt to ward off a pair of onrushing assailants.

His ferocious but histrionic swings did nothing to slow the attack, but his appearance certainly did. Expecting to confront only others of their kind, the two hard-charging Toroud-eed warriors pulled up short, clearly taken aback at the unexpectedly alien aspect of their intended target. Assailants and quarry stared at one another. One of the Toroud-eed finally took a hesitant step toward the unwieldy apparition, who after all was holding a Kojn-umm sword. A moment later his companion let out a startled yelp and turned to see a small furry alien quadruped hanging by its jaws onto his lower right leg.