The Light-years Beneath My Feet (13 page)

Saluu-hir-lek did not look at him. That was not encouraging. “I faintly aware of yous’ situation. Such searches, I understand, can take long time. Sometimes very long time.”

“We understand that.” Walker tried not to sound impatient. “It’s just that we’ve heard nothing at all. Possibly if someone like yourself looked into the matter, or used their influence, the relevant government agencies might be more         .         .         .         forthcoming.”

Their round, muscular mouths did not allow the Niyyuu to smile. Instead, Saluu-hir-lek tried to offer a sympathetic apologia by means of gestures. “Cannot do. Too much responsibility already, being charged with traditionally defend all of Kojn-umm. I sorry, but can do nothing for you.” His tone brightened. “I thank yous for staying night. Perhaps following sunbreak, can prepare small morning meal?”

With a heavy sigh, Walker turned away. “Yes, of course I’ll conjure breakfast.”

“A strange, untranslatable term. Understanding is clear, though. I thank you in advance.” He started toward the open portal behind them. “Now is retire time. Soldier needs good sleep as much as sharp sword. Maybe cook as well.”

“Whatever.” The dog had his head down as he moved to follow the general. The private nocturnal meeting had not produced the results he and Walker had hoped for.

“Is okay yous share habitation? Not much free-spare space in fortress.”

Walker glanced down at the dog and mustered a sliver of a smile. “We’ll manage. George and I have shared a lot more than a room together.”

Tonight they would also, he reflected as he followed their host, share their disappointment.

Their quarters were more comfortable than either had expected, equipped with many of the comforts of modern Niyyuuan technology. As usual, though soft and long enough, the customary sleeping platform was too narrow for Walker to sleep easily on it lest he roll over in the middle of the night and tumble off. With a second full-size platform at his disposal, George had a much easier time of it—once Walker helped his small friend up onto the high bed.

“Well, when considered as a summit in search of local allies, that sucked big-time.” Pacing out a circle atop the platform, George promptly flumped himself down in the middle of the aerogel padding.

Boosting himself up onto the edge of his own platform, Walker regarded his friend glumly. “The general was nice enough, maybe even understanding, but that was as far as it went.”

George sniffed derisively. “Me, I don’t even think it went that far. I think he was being disingenuous the whole time.” Rising, the aggravated dog walked to the edge of the platform. “Look, this Saluu-hir-lek is the top military guy in all Kojn-umm. It’s crazy to think that he’s not in on top-level policy decisions. And I have to believe that the employment and disposition of four aliens at government expense counts as a top-level policy decision.”

Walker deliberated. “Then you think he’s in on this “go slow in helping us to return home” policy?”

“Of course he is.” George let out a short, sharp growl. “Just like all the other upper-level local Niyyuu. It’s pretty clear to me from the way he reacted to your low-key request that he’s not going to help us any more than any of the other government officials we’ve talked to over the past couple of months.” The dog eyed his friend sagely. “You’re too good at your new vocation, Marc. I’ve been paying attention, listening to conversations. That’s one benefit to being my size. Bigger folk start to overlook your presence. Not only do the Niyyuu like your cooking presentations, they’re basking in the envy of their neighbors. Nobody else has a human chef. Not to mention a chatty canine, a verse-spouting Tuuqalian, and an encyclopedic, if smart-mouthed, K’eremu. You can be sure of it: they’re going to keep us marooned here as long as they can.” Returning to the center of the platform, he repeated the careful “pacing in a circle” ritual before lying down once more.

“Right now, ‘as long as they can’ is looking more and more like forever.”

A thoughtful Walker studied the communications ovoid that stood to the left of his sleeping platform. At a command, it could provide all manner of services and entertainment. But in accordance with Niyyuuan tradition, it did not permit reciprocal contact with the outside world. That had to be done by courier, or mirror signals, or some similar old-fashioned method that did not contravene the strict laws governing traditional Niyyuuan combat. Like the rest of the fortress, their sleeping quarters were an eclectic mix of the antiquated and the completely up-to-date.

While their long journey from Seremathenn to Niyu had hopefully brought them closer to home, their voyaging had subsequently stalled due to the lack of cooperation on the part of the Niyyuu of Kojn-umm. If George was right, and Walker saw little reason to dispute the dog’s assertions, an official if unspoken policy of benign neglect had landed permanently on their repeated requests for help in locating their homeworlds, or even ascertaining in which direction they might lie. In some ways, outright opposition to their requests would have been simpler to deal with. But facile prevarication was a tougher opponent: slippery and hard to pin down.

Take the attitude of their current host. There were moments that suggested Saluu-hir-lek empathized with their situation. He simply wouldn’t do anything to help them, would not go against governmental dictates. How could Walker and his friends demand action when individuals like the general and his civilian counterparts insisted they were doing their best?

There was the hope that Sobj-oes, the senior scientist who had confronted him late one evening, would eventually come forth with some useful information. But suppose she did? he told himself. Then what? Knowing where Earth—or Tuuqalia, or K’erem—might lie in relation to Niyu would bring the respective orphans of those three worlds closer to home only emotionally.

“We need to be more proactive in our cause.”

“What?” Half-asleep, George looked up at his friend.

“We need to stop asking for help and do more to help ourselves.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” The dog’s head slumped back down onto his paws. “When you’re ready to hijack a Niyyuuan ship and its crew, let me know. Sometimes—sometimes I wish we’d recognized reality and stayed on Seremathenn. Or I wish I had.”

Walker had been frustrated. Now he was angry. Slipping off the platform, he strode over to the other, grabbed the startled dog by his forepaws, and lifted him up until he was standing on his hind legs. It brought them nearer to eye level.

“Now you listen to me! We didn’t fight our way out of Vilenjji captivity to end up stuck on Niyu or Seremathenn or any other alien world. Neither did Sque or Braouk. We’re going to get home, all of us!”

“Let go of me, or I’ll bite the crap out of your fingers,” George warned him.

Walker let the dog drop back down onto all fours. “We need to stick together and to focus on one thing, George—and it’s not making ourselves as comfortable as possible in an alien environment. We need to concentrate on ways of getting home.”

“Swell.” Unable to stay angry at anything for very long, the dog had lain back down and was licking his forepaws where the human had gripped them. “First we have to find it.”

“We will. Somehow, someway, whether the Niyyuu help us or not, we will. And once we’ve done that, we’ll damn sure figure out a way to get there!”

“A positive attitude,” the dog mumbled sleepily. “That’s useful. Since you find Saluu-hir-lek so sympathetic, maybe you can get him to conquer a few neighboring realms for us. Then you can
order
their scientific communities to do what we want.”

“Wouldn’t work even if we could,” a more subdued Walker murmured. “Remember what we were told? That if any one realm becomes too powerful, the others gang up on it to put it back in its place?”

George yawned. “Very civilized. Nothing like trading commodities, I bet.”

“No,” Walker agreed. “This is nothing like that. Nothing at all.”

He returned to his sleeping platform and directed the room to darken. But unlike the dog, he did not immediately fall asleep. In fact, he did not fall asleep for some time. His thoughts would not let him. Like the steaming, thick java brewed by his favorite coffee shop on the corner of the office tower back home where he used to work, they were percolating.

9

M
orning dawned as so many had since their arrival on Niyu: bright, sunny, cloudless, and depressing. A fine day for fighting, according to the aide who woke them.

As he slipped mechanically into his clothes, Walker noticed that George had not stirred. “Not coming.” With a nod of his head, the dog indicated their immediate surroundings.

“There’s not much to do here,” Walker pointed out. There were entertainment recordings to peruse, but little else.

The dog lifted his head from his paws. “Not much to do until we leave this place, either. We came looking for help. We didn’t find any.” The furry head dropped back down. “At the risk of appearing impolite, or impolitic, if anybody asks, tell ’em I’m not feeling well. Which is true enough. I’ve no interest in watching the natives ceremoniously slaughter each other.”

“To tell you the truth, neither do I.” Walker moved toward the doorway. “But in spite of the general’s diplomatic refusal of assistance, you never know when he might let something useful slip.”

“If he does, just make sure you don’t fall on it.”

Walker hesitated, thought to say something else, finally concluded with a familiar “See you later, then,” and exited the room. He didn’t blame George for staying behind. While adding to their knowledge of Niyyuuan culture, their visit to the fortress had produced nothing in the way of concrete assistance. Not that this was anything less than what they had expected.

Inquiring as to the whereabouts of their host, he was informed that the general was up on the central bulwark. And that was where he found Saluu-hir-lek, intently engaged in a study of the hills and central plain spread out in front of the fortress, organizing tactics for the day’s battle. To Walker’s disappointment, Viyv-pym was not there. There was no reason for her to be present, of course. Traditional combat was something she had seen before, had experienced on a far more personal level than he ever would.

He did his best to appear cheerful. For his part, Saluu-hir-lek greeted him effusively. The general had as much energy as any Niyyuuan Walker had yet encountered.

Looking past the much broader human, he inquired, “Where you small associate?”

“Not feeling well this morning,” Walker told him.

“
Asghik.
I hope it not from eat you’s cooking.”

Walker blanched, then recognized that his host was making a joke. The general was full of surprises. “Expecting a rough day?” Turning, Walker contemplated the field of battle. All was quiet for now, with no sign of the besieging soldiers of Toroud-eed.

“I think they growing tired. Jalar-aad-biidh has not been breached, much less taken, in long time. This one valiant effort by them. All started because of some trade dispute. Is often the case. One more assault on outer wall fail, I think they go home.”

“And what then?” Walker asked curiously. “Will you pursue and try to destroy them so they won’t have the strength to attack you again?”

Morning light glinted from polished armor that had been forged in a modern factory and not by two-fingered hands working with hammer and tong. Saluu-hir-lek eyed him from the depths of wide, inquiring eyes. “You interested in military tactics, human?”

“Let’s just say that for much of my early life I spent a lot of time dealing with battlefield strategy.” He did not add that the object of that strategy had been to advance a small, oblong-shaped, inflated ball down a grassy field. Tactics were still tactics, whether the eventual objective was seven points or seven deaths.

“I am pleased by you interest. Besides cooking, you have perhaps in mind other goals?” Though Walker was mildly boggled by the Niyyuuan’s unintentional pun, the general of course remained utterly unaware of it.

“I want to go home. My friends want to go home. You know that already, General.”

The Niyyuuan gestured acknowledgment. “As I told you yesterday, not my area of influence. Can do nothing. Regrets only I can give you.”

They were both silent for a long moment before Walker, simply with an eye toward making polite conversation, thought to ask a question of his own. “What about you, General? What are your goals? Besides the ones your government and your official position have charged you with? Every sentient has personal as well as professional aspirations. Myself, I never thought I would become a professional food preparator. Now I find myself not only cooking, but doing it on different worlds for different species with entirely differing dietary requirements and tastes.” Moving a little closer, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Given a choice of anything, what would you do? What do you, Saluu-hir-lek, want most?”

A limber, pale hand reached out to him. Starting at Walker’s shoulder, two long, flexible, unarmored fingers traced a pattern down his arm.

“Such a thing is not for general speaking.” Perhaps this time, Walker mused, the pun was intentional. “But you not Niyyuu, not Kojn-umm. I tell you something, you keep secret. Tell no one. You eyes attest to this?”

Drawn to the alien’s unmistakable intensity, Walker did not hesitate. What personal ambition was so dodgy that an individual as powerful and connected as Saluu-hir-lek had to secure assurances of confidentiality before revealing it to an alien visitor?

“Of course,” he replied. Then he added formally, “I attest with my eyes that I will repeat to no one of this world what you are about to tell me.”

Saluu-hir-lek gestured solemnly. Then, instead of responding immediately, he turned to gaze once more out across the still-peaceful field of battle.

“It an uncommon thing, I know. Other officers, of all ranks, content enough to do their job. To follow orders. But when one is put in position not to follow orders but to give them, sometimes perception of reality, of world itself, can change.” He glanced over at Walker. “You have, maybe, some personal understanding of this phenomenon?”

“I’m not sure.” Something told Walker to tread with extreme care on this new subject, lest his host drop the matter entirely.

The general gestured enigmatically. “I endeavor explain. I am commander all traditional military forces of realm Kojn-umm. Rise fast within hierarchy. Many promotions.” All this was given as fact, Walker noted, for informational purposes only and insofar as he could tell, without boasting. Certainly the speaker did not wait for comment, genuflection, or other approval from his alien audience of one.

“I achieve much already. Defeat forces of Toroud-eed several times. Defeat forces of Biranju-oov twice. Could have taken both guardian fortresses of latter.”

“Why didn’t you?” Walker asked him.

Saluu-hir-lek’s disgust was plain to see, even to a newcomer such as Walker. “Governments make agreements between selves. Civilian control always overrules military, except when actual integrity of realm at stake. Was ordered both times to break off fighting and pull all attacking forces back to Kojn-umm.”

“You were disappointed.” Walker had quickly lost interest in the silent battlefield beyond the high wall.

Dominating the lean visage, huge dark eyes peered back at him. “You understand—perhaps.”

Walker dug in, persistent. “Last night you said that you sympathized with the situation my friends and I find ourselves in. I think I find myself sympathizing with you. You suffer from what my people would call thwarted ambition. Believe me, Saluu-hir-lek, from my previous profession I know many individuals who are afflicted with the same ailment.”

The general gestured understandingly. “It good to meet someone who appreciate condition. Even if that someone a great clumsy awkward alien creature like youself.”

“Thanks,” Walker replied dryly. “I think that, like myself, you also suffer from frustration—though it arises from a different set of circumstances.” He moved as close as he could without actually making contact. “You can tell me about it if you like, General—who would I pass the information on to? Given the opportunity, what would you most like to do with your life?”

Saluu-hir-lek paused, as if suddenly aware that he might already have said too much. But the strange, short-earred, lumbering creature was right. Who would it recite the telling to? There was no reason for it to do such a thing. Particularly since it was apparent that the government in power was doing its best to ignore the alien’s own requests.

“I tell you something now, human Walker. Confession before morning meal, you may think it. I come this close”—he pressed both fingers of his right hand lightly together—“to taking both traditional defending fortresses of Biranju-oov. Capture both fortresses, means realm suffering the defeat must make major concessions to vanquisher. In commerce, taxation, tariffs, residency matters—everything.” His other arm swept forward to encompass the still-tranquil battlefield.

“When finally defeat these attacking forces of Toroud-eed here, I could subsequently muster greater army and chase them back to borders of their own realm. Defeat them also there, I am certain of it! First Toroud-eed, then Biranju-oov. Would become greatest traditional military commander in entire history of modern Kojn-umm.” He waited with obvious interest for Walker’s reaction.

The human merely replied softly, “And then?”

A great sigh eased out of the general, leaving him for an instant as thin as a reed. “You
do
understand. You have same feeling, I think maybe.”

“No,” Walker told him firmly. “I’m not interested in what you’re interested in, though I would someday like to be head of the company I used to work for. If that can be called all-conquering, then I’m all for it. What I
am
interested in is getting home. Every day that my friends and I are restricted to Niyu is one day more we haven’t moved any closer to getting home. It’s becoming abundantly clear that in order to get the kind of assistance we need from official Kojn-umm sources, we need more powerful allies among its governing elite.” He eyed the general meaningfully. “The greatest military commander in the history of modern Kojn-umm would certainly be one candidate for that list.”

Saluu-hir-lek’s mouth expanded. “Strategy and tactics. If I were the individual of whom you theorize, is true I might be able to help yous with yous’ wishes. But I not that. Cannot be that.” He looked away. “You been on Niyu long enough know that one realm grow too powerful, others combine to put it in its place.”

“If its power is readily apparent, yes,” Walker agreed. “But there are many ways to camouflage intent. To disguise one’s true objective. That’s something I used to be very good at.”

Saluu-hir-lek turned sharply back to face the human. “You have idea? One, or many?”

“One that is many,” Walker told him, intentionally cryptic. “Interested?”

The Niyyuuan general remained wary. “This very chancy subject for open discussion. You make morning meal first. Bring you friend along if he feeling better, please. I interested also in his opinion.”

“The gist of my idea does not fall within his area of expertise,” Walker replied.

“I understand that. But I interested in his opinion all the same. You not object to presence during discussions of you’s own friend, do you?”

“No, of course not.” Walker had no choice but to concede the point. To have argued it further, he sensed, would have killed the general’s interest in such a touchy subject completely.

As it was, Saluu-hir-lek was clearly pleased. “Always better eat first. Not good discuss sedition and duplicity on empty stomach.” Putting a long, limber arm around the human, the general escorted him off the rampart and back into the depths of the fortress.

“Well, what do you think?”

The waterfall at whose base they had gathered was not high, but it was noisy, which was what Walker was after. As always, their appearance garnered the usual stares from passing Niyyuu. None approached the foreign visitors to the nature park, however. Visiting aliens were accorded the same privileges as locals. That extended to privacy.

And if common courtesy was not sufficient to discourage infringement, Braouk’s intimidating presence was sufficient to keep the otherwise intrigued at a distance.

Espying a shallow sandbar, Sque slid gratefully into the water. She remained there with only the upper half of her body breaking the surface, forcing her companions to settle themselves around her. No one minded the proximity to the manicured cataract that over the centuries had undergone a transformation from wild torrent to well-mannered cascade. Though carefully maintained native vegetation, lush and vibrant, flourished throughout the park, Walker would have traded every gaudy frond and twisted fiber of alien exoticism for one glimpse of a solitary daisy.

They had not come to enjoy the scenery, however, but to discuss their immediate future. One that Walker’s proposal promised to perturb appreciably.

“Is taking a chance, that could seriously unsettle, existing relationship.” Himself larger than many of the surrounding growths, Braouk’s initial response to Walker’s plan reflected his natural caution. “We have fashioned a comfortable arrangement with the Niyyuu. Involving ourselves in a scheme such as you propose, Marc, could damage that irreparably.”