Thousandstar (#4 of the Cluster series) (23 page)

And—the signs looked good. The Star-Hole complex retreated, more slowly each moment, but he had considerable residual velocity. The radiation eased. The ties subsided. It seemed that his velocity was sufficient—if his direction were correct.

As the ship moved on, the signs became clearer. He was off to one side, toward the Hole. But his new vision and its attendant judgment showed him that the ship's trajectory would carry it far enough beyond the Hole so that the larger ambience of the Star would dominate. He might even have to skirt the Hole more closely. Thus he had a conflict between his normal awareness and his sight-awareness. It was not merely a different perception, but a different mode of comprehension. Jessica's human mind had an alien system of logic. Heem decided to gamble on it.

As he concentrated on the trajectory, watching for the opportune moment to make a course correction, stray wisps of memory fleeted past his consciousness. The death of the estate-holder, a grandiose funeral service, inheritance of the title—yet these things meant nothing to him. His kind had no subjective awareness of death, not in adult life, therefore no rituals of passage. HydrOs had no property, therefore no inheritance. These were memories of the Solarian mind. He had infused it so thoroughly that Jessica's memories were like his own.

Very like his own—for his were forbidden. No true adult HydrO remembered his juvenile state. Heem's metamorphosis had been incomplete, and that made him a non-adult. Similarly, the memories of a female alien should normally have been forbidden to him.

Now her state merged with his and with the present problem. In space there were deadly forces exerted on the fragile ship; only by balancing them could the ship pass safely. Heem had been drawn by the force of his cultural crime, balancing it against his species' need for his special talents. Jessica and her clone-brother, hiding the secret of their alternate-genderness from their associates, had suffered loss of material resources. The estate was bankrupt; they had discovered this upon inheritance. So Jesse had gotten a job—the entire concept was devious for the HydrO mind, but equated roughly to Heem's own assimilation of this present challenge. When Jesse had been unable to complete his commitment, Jessica had done it for him. Balancing one set of needs and risks against another. It all merged into the present; it was all consistent.

And—his instruments shifted slowly, at last coming into conformance with his visual intuition. He had been correct to trust his new perception; the ship had been on course. A prior correction would have thrown it off, wasting fuel, perhaps eventually sending it into the Star to be destroyed. With a surplus of fuel, a second or third correction could have been made, but in this instance the tolerance was too narrow;
any
wastage of fuel could be fatal. Only through Jessica's perception, and the coordination of a mind to which that perception was natural, could this guidance have been accomplished. He had needed vision to verify that he needed to do nothing.

"We have won," he announced. "Vision enabled success. We shall be able to make planetfall."

There was no response from the alien.

"Jessica," he needled, alarmed. "Where are you?"

He felt a faint presence stirring, but there was no vigor in it. Oh, no! Had the tide and radiation and stress damaged her aura, fading it out before its time? Or had she yielded up what remained of her being to enable him to see, to make his final judgment? At what price had he accomplished his victory?

"Alien female!" he sprayed. "We have our differences, but I did not mean to abolish you! I—I value your presence. How may I restore you to health?"

Still she did not respond. Heem checked the ship's course once more, then turned all his attention inward.

"Jessica, I took your sight; let me give it back. It is a fine perception, it saved us, but it is yours. I took your aura; take it back. I affronted you; I apologize. You are no Squam, you are a valiant and feeling entity. Do not fade out. I need your companionship."

At last she spoke, as from beyond the Star. 'I think I— overextended myself, and lost consciousness. Are we—how is the flight?'

"We are successful!" Heem sprayed joyfully. "We shall survive! Your vision did it."

She was stronger now. 'Oh, I was so afraid.'

"But you were so certain I could do it! It was your confidence that kept me going!"

'Thank God for that!'

"Do you mean you thought I could not do it?"

'Oh, no, Heem. But I did fear, foolishly—'

She had feared strongly, and not foolishly, he realized now. Yet she had bolstered him with confidence, enabling him to do what he would otherwise have felt impossible. That realization stirred something strange in him. When he thought her absent, he had experienced a sensation of loss of surprising intensity; now he experienced a gratitude that verged on—but the concept was amorphous.

'I appreciate that feeling, though,' Jessica said. 'We have been through a terrific experience, together.'

But he was too tired now to explore that. He had expended considerable energy of his own, and with the let-down of effort the fatigue hit him. He had to rest, and so did she. He withdrew from her ambience, and the last of the sight-awareness faded from him. "The ship is on course; we can rest for some time," he sprayed, and allowed himself to roll to the stasis of complete relaxation.

'Yes,' she agreed, and there was something ineffable about her manner, and pleasant.

He dreamed, and now the dreams were visual. He saw a hillside decorated with pretty flowers and tall purple pines, and beside him was a presence that reminded him of Moon of Morningmist. But he could not see her, quite.

 

*
 
*
 
*

 

They intersected the column of ships at an angle. Using their new vision, Heem observed the tokens through the ship's perception. The situation was not good for the HydrO hosts; the first three ships were Erbs, and the next six alternated Squams and Erbs. Then, far back in the column, the HydrOs became more prominent.

"Sight makes a potent difference," Heem sprayed. "Erbs have sight, and they dominate the race. We can only consider ourselves fortunate that the remainder of the race will be onplanet, where taste is an advantage."

'But they aren't really Erbs and Squams and HydrOs,' Jessica said. 'They are only hosts for the other entrants of Thousandstar.'

"Still, if HydrO hosts do not perform well, it will be a negation for our species, and our influence in Thousandstar politics will diminish," Heem jetted. "We can be sure the true Erb and Squam representatives are present in that lead column."

'And the true HydrO representative is about to be,' she said. 'Our shortcut really worked! Where will we place?'

Heem surveyed the column critically. "Twentieth. That is comfortable."

'Not as comfortable as first would be.'

"
More
comfortable than first. The earliest arrivals will have to contend with the vagaries of the equipment and the landscape. There will be accidents, foul-ups, delays. Those best qualified to race in space will not be best on rough planetary terrain. I warrant that none of the first ten pilots will finish in the first ten to reach the Ancient site."

'None but you, Heem! You have wilderness experience!'

"I do. But I want to be lost in the pack, profiting from the leading contestants' follies. Then, at the later stage, I will exert myself. There is still a lot of racing to be done."

'That's for sure!' she agreed.

Heem jetted a course correction so that the ship angled to merge obliquely with the column. The ship remained in freefall, thus decelerating without the use of fuel. But as it converged with the column, fuel would have to be expended, for the retreat from the Hole was over.

'Do we have enough fuel left?' Jessica inquired worriedly. 'I know you said we did, but now that we're at the point—'

"We have plenty," he assured her. "Thanks to your vision, I judged the nebula passage so well that I used only half what I might have. We could decelerate late, and move safely up to fifth or sixth place, but I prefer not to advertise the extent of our success. So we will phase in with absolute minimum deceleration, somewhat shaky, obviously so battered from our pass between Star and Hole that we represent no serious competition."

'Heem, that's unscrupulous!'

"Yes. But legitimate. The longer we seem to be a minimal threat, the better will be our chance of eventual success. This is not a polite social matter. This is a savage competition for possession of an Ancient site."

'You have the mind of a Solarian.'

"I presume you regard that as a compliment."

'I do.'

"Then it must be one." The emotion he had experienced before, and put aside, came back more strongly. "I dreamed of you, but could not see you."

'I know.'

"Physically, you most resemble a Squam, with your limbs and hearing and the appalling habit of eating. Squams are anathema to me. In addition, you are female."

'I am.'

"Yet I find myself—not sufficiently appalled. Your mind—is more like mine, despite the grotesqueries of your species. When I feared you had departed from me, I suffered."

She was silent, but he could tell from her mood that she understood. It was beyond reason for a HydrO to approve of anything remotely resembling a Squam, but in this case something less stringent than enmity was in order. Maybe he should regard her more as he did the Erbs, alien but neutral, no real threat to him. She shared the perception of sight with them, after all. Yet she was not neutral. And not really alien, anymore. Why did he think of her now as he had once thought of Moon of Morningmist? It could not be simply because she was female, because he was largely indifferent to most females.

He had the feeling that she understood more about this than he did, but was holding her reaction aloof. Why?

Now Jessica spoke. 'The Erbs—you have thought very little about them. But we'll be encountering them personally, on Planet Eccentric, won't we? Along with the Squams?'

"Correct. We have had the intellectual challenge, and the piloting challenge; on planet we shall have the physical challenge. It will have its grim aspects."

'I believe it! I have some notion what a Squam is, thanks to your flashbacks, and I think I can help you there. Because I do, as you have so kindly pointed out, have certain points of resemblance. But I know nothing at all about the Erbs. If you could visualize one for me—'

Heem tried. He juggled their new sight to formulate a vision of a single Erb: a plantlike creature whose roots gathered water and minerals, a massive stem, and a splay of leaves that could fold into a dense cone.

'That's all? A sunflower with a folding flower? How does it live? I mean, it can't live on just water and minerals, can it?'

"HydrOs live on just hydrogen," he reminded her.

'I still haven't quite accepted that, either,' she admitted. 'But if this Erb is a type of plant, it needs light too.'

"It opens its leaf-disk to collect starlight."

'Sunlight, you mean.'

"A sun is a star, yes. When there is wind, it catches this on the leaves, achieving torque, and stores the energy for future use."

'Like a windmill, I guess,' she said uncertainly. 'What about self-defense? Say a nasty Squam attacks it—'

"It folds its disk into a wedge and drills into the Squam's armor, splitting it apart. It is a rare Squam who can withstand an Erb."

'But then HydrOs—you don't seem to fear the Erb—'

"HydrO bodies are soft. The drill has no purchase. We merely fire hot needlejets into the Erb mechanism, disrupting its operation, or holing its stem. Erbs represent no threat to us."

'I see,' she said dubiously.

They limped into mergence with the column, in twentieth place.

"H-Sixty-six. Heem of Highfalls—is that you?" the taste net inquired. "How did you escape the Hole? We thought you had suicided."

"Salutation, H-Forty-six, Swoon of Sweetswamp. I perceived I could not achieve the first fifty, so I needled through the interstice between Star and Hole." Heem knew the other ships were tuning in on the exchange, so he made the most of it. "I fear the radiation and the tide—" He let the taste fade out.

'Oh, that's sneaky!' Jessica said. 'They'll never worry about you now!'

"This is my hope."

'Heem, something about the way you say that—your attendant emotion—you're not doing this just as a tactic, are you. You're hiding!'

"I knew it was disaster to have an alien female in my mind," Heem jetted.

'Oh, come off it! We did just great together, even if I am still a little weak-kneed. After the Hole, what is there to worry about, in a mere competition?'

Heem made a mental spray of resignation. "My liability is now of concern to you. It is proper to inform you of it before it manifests on the planet."

'Uh-oh. There is something I still don't know? Heem—does it relate to your problem fighting Squams?'

"It relates. I deceived the competition management. I cannot defeat a Squam in fair combat. And I will surely have to, to remain in contention for the victory."

'I don't follow that. You learned how to overcome a Squam before, didn't you? You proved this, didn't you? Winning those five valleys for HydrO hegemony, one of which was Morningmist? You proved you were correct; your litter would never have survived in Morningmist, had the Squams taken over that region.'

"I did all that," Heem agreed. "Yet this was a sign of my ultimate failure. I was able to use what I had learned as a juvenile, to defeat that Squam in ritual combat, and I became a hero of my kind. But the memory that enabled me to succeed was illegal. When someone betrayed the guilty secret of my past, I was abruptly an outlaw. Yet no one had known my secret, not even me—for all memory of the juvenile state is wiped clean in the metamorphosis to the adult stage."

'But you just said—now wait a minute—you
do
remember! That's bothered me before. You're telling me all the things you aren't supposed to remember!'