The Candle of Distant Earth (22 page)

“Don't forget all these things when you're overcome by some new, alien sight or sound or sensation. Don't forget about home.
Females in heat,
” he added as a last resort.

It did no good. His human was fast asleep, wheezing contentedly into the depths of the supportive alien pile.

Stay here if you want, then,
he thought angrily as he turned and trotted away.
Or go back to Niyu and try to establish some kind of relationship with your scrawny alien admirer. Or return to Seremathenn and live off the largesse of the Sessrimathe. I can get home without you.

But he couldn't, he knew. Walker was the titular leader of this voyage, having so been anointed by the Niyyuu and accepted as such by the Iollth and the Hyfft. Without him, if only as a unifying figurehead, it was unlikely even Sque was capable of persuading the Niyyuu, in particular, to continue with the journey.

Probably he was worrying unnecessarily. Hadn't Marc expressed an equally strong desire to find their way back home? The human had just enjoyed an exhilarating nocturnal experience, that was all. George began to feel he was being unduly suspicious. Doubtless it stemmed from all those years of being chased down back alleys by marauding abandoned rottweilers and bastard half pit bulls.

Dog-tired. Come to think of it, all the pacing and worrying about his two-legged friend had left him notably short on sleep himself. Wandering over to his own bed, which was nothing more than a much smaller, less densely upholstered version of Walker's, he stepped into it, paced off three increasingly tight circles, and flumped down into a warm, furry, self-contained pile.

When Sque eventually roused herself, the first thing she did was spend several minutes pondering possible new ways to describe the unremitting laziness of the two semi-comatose specimens from Earth, whose respective consciousnesses she was unable to rouse despite the application of repeated prodding and inventive invective.

As Tuuqalians ate their communal meals only twice, once in the morning at sunrise and the other at night during sunset, the vast dining hall was empty save for a few stragglers when Walker and George eventually woke up enough to stumble in and request food. Having by now learned which local victuals were tolerated by their system and which would induce, among other things, uncontrolled vomiting, it did not take long to choose a couple of the smallest of the shallow divided bowls the Tuuqalians utilized. Despite the fact that it was not a recognized mealtime, there was more than enough leftover food to satisfy them both. Together, they ate less than a single Tuuqalian would consume as an appetizer.

Sque accompanied them. Not because she was hungry, which she was not, but out of the usual mixture of boredom and curiosity. One could only slumber for so long in the temporary sleeping quarters that had been assigned to them. Also, thanks to the nature of Tuuqalian cuisine, the interior of the dining hall was just moist enough for her to be comfortable. The cool, dry air of the atmosphere outside was much less to her liking.

Climbing up onto the now largely empty curved table, she settled herself down to examine her surroundings. Occasionally she would glance down at her primitive companions, marveling at their ability to consume almost anything with apparent enjoyment. But then, one could not expect even an educated food preparer like the human Walker to possess the educated palate of a K'eremu.

His snout buried in the bowl that had been placed before him, George lay on the floor next to his friend. Walker sat with legs crossed and the food bowl balanced between them. It did not matter that the Tuuqalians did not use chairs because the table was too high for him to reach comfortably anyway. Designed for grasping by massive, powerful tentacles, the single all-purpose Tuuqalian food scoop was equally useless. This deficiency did not trouble George, who had no grasping limbs anyway. As for Walker, he was content to eat with his fingers.

As he did so, he admired the gentle arc of the table edge above him. Its curvature was similar to that of the balcony on which he had stood last night, as well as the fluid lines of the scoop ship he had ridden with Braouk. Tuuqalian design was surprisingly relaxed and sophisticated, all gentle curves and smooth surfaces. It contrasted rather than clashed with the hearty, rough-hewn nature of the Tuuqalians themselves. Like the floor of every local building or room he had entered, that of the extended family dining hall rose gently toward the center. So did the ceiling, giving every Tuuqalian room the aspect of a fried egg.

He realized with a start that local architecture set out in physical reality the same kind of undulating meter that characterized Tuuqalian sagas. All of a unified whole, the subtleness of it had escaped him until this moment. It was something he would never have noticed back on Earth. His travels, his encounters, were sharpening his perception in ways he could never have imagined.

He was no longer the same person he had been when he had been taken, he knew. Whoever had said that travel was broadening could never have envisioned what he had experienced these past couple of years. Not that he had ever been prejudiced, for example, or looked on others who were slightly different from him with anything other than usual jaundiced urban eye. But even any subconscious vestiges of suppressed disapproval of other ethnicities or cultures had vanished due to the company he had been compelled to keep.

Look at the Tuuqalians. The first one he had encountered had struck him as a ravening monster, best to be avoided if not killed outright. True, Braouk had been suffering from the effects of his captivity and at the time had not been quite himself, but that still did not wholly excuse Walker's initial revulsion. He had reacted without trying to understand, like a threatened chimp. Now Braouk and his kind were not only friends, they were, as the Tuuqalian had recently informed him, family.

Family. He munched on something bulbous and blue that back home he would instinctively have thrown into the trash. It was sweet and flavorful. What constituted family? Was it only blood? A straightforward genetic linkage? Or could it be expanded to encompass shared ideals, other intelligences, different desires? Who did he really have more in common with? His cousin Larry, who thought farting was the epitome of witty humor and who lived only for inhaling the fumes at Chicago-area racetracks? Or Braouk, thoughtful and creative, if characteristically long-winded? As he chewed, letting alien sugars satiate his system, his attention shifted to where Sque reposed on the table just above him.

Five serpentine limbs dangled lazily off the side of the table while the other five maintained a grip on its surface. From the center of these serpentine coilings rose a tapering, maroon-hued mass that gently expanded and contracted with the K'eremu's breathing. Set in slots of silver, her pupils were horizontal instead of round or vertical. Like a butterfly's siphon, the pinkish speaking tube lay coiled against her body, just above the round mouth. She was about as far from cousin Larry as anything animate he could imagine. And yet, for all the sarcasm and inherent condescension of her kind, she was a better friend and companion than his blood relation. On more than one occasion her intelligence and, yes, caring, had gone a long way toward sustaining his life. All Larry had ever done was borrow money.

How then should one judge intelligence and amity? By the number of limbs and eyes something possessed, by its manner of speaking, or by skin color or hair style? The more experiences he endured, the more he learned, the greater the shallowness of his own kind weighed on him.

When I get home,
he vowed,
it's going to be different. I'm going to be different.
He would not have to work hard at it, he knew. Travel was broadening.

They were almost finished when a familiar figure lurched into the hall, searched with scanning eyes, and found them. Lumbering over, Broullkoun-uvv-ahd-Hrashkin thrust one eye in George's direction and the other at Walker.

“Still you enjoy, food of my family, for eating?”

Rummaging around in his bowl, an unsqueamish Walker held up something that back home he would have consigned to his condo's garbage disposal. “The
poatk
is delicious, and so is everything else.”

His muzzle stained dark blue, George looked up from his bowl and burped reflectively. “Not bad, snake-arms. In fact, everything here has been good.”

Braouk's fur-quills stiffened slightly with pride. “Everything you are eating is of local manufacture. Fresh food of the northern plains is the best on all Tuuqalia, and that of my family famed as among the finest. It is a shame you will not be able to enjoy it any longer.”

Frowning, Walker let his stained fingers drop to rest on the edge of the bowl. “I don't follow you. Is something wrong?”

Flexible, muscular eyestalks brought both eyes so close to him that he could see little else. “On the contrary, everything is very right, for you.”

From the curving tabletop above, Sque withdrew from her contemplation of distant automatonic machinery to focus on their host. “You have news.” Bubbles of excitement burbled from her speaking tube. “Sobj-oes and the astronomics team have found something.”

Setting aside the bowl, Walker rose and wiped his mouth with the back of a sleeve. “They've got a direction! They've plotted a way for us to get home!”

Braouk gestured encouragingly. “I am led, to understand that is, the case. That by working together with the scientific opposite number among my people, our Niyyuuan and Iollth friends have managed to divine a Tuuqalia-K'erem vector.” Both eyes retracted. “I insisted on bringing you this wonderful news myself.”

On the table, every one of Sque's limbs had contracted up against her body. “I am swollen with excitement. Given the inadequacies of those with whom I had to work, this is a moment I was not sure I would live long enough to see.”

“And Earth?” Walker asked eagerly. Sitting attentively by his feet, George was wagging his tail rapidly enough to generate a small breeze.

Both of Braouk's eyes curved around to focus on him once again. Some of the initial keenness had faded from the Tuuqalian's voice. “They have what they believe to be a Tuuqalia-K'erem vector.”

The kindly Braouk's lack of a direct response spoke volumes. Walker slumped. The energetic back and forth flailing of the dog's tail slowed. The Tuuqalian did not have to say anything else.

Everything of significance was contained in what he did not say.

R
eturning to their quarters in the company of their companion and guide, they gathered together their few personal belongings prior to departing the northern plains. Walker tried to put a brave face on Braouk's revelation.

“I guess it would've been too much to expect that your people would know where Earth was. We're still isolated, somewhere out on the galactic fringes. It's tough for travelers to find you when you're isolated and alone.”

“I think the lyric you're looking for is ‘Don't get around much,'” George chimed in. His gaze drifted to Sque, who in her usual fashion was already several steps ahead of them and ready to depart. “I can't see the future.” He snorted. “Usually, I can't see beyond the next bone. But one thing I do know: no matter how this ends, I don't see myself spending the rest of my life on K'erem. It's hard enough being around one K'eremu. I can't imagine what living with a whole planetful of them would be like.”

“‘Maddening' is the word I think
you're
looking for,” Walker replied understandingly. Though she plainly heard everything that was being said, Sque took no offense at the comments and offered no riposte. She was as used to their sarcasm and occasional jibes as they were to hers. For a K'eremu, it was all part and parcel of a normal conversation.

“You are always, welcome among my family, any time.” Discerning the discouragement he knew would greet the deficiencies in his announcement, Braouk did his best to raise the spirits of his two friends. “Or you may choose to return with your friends the Niyyuu to their world, or even all the way back to distant Seremathenn, of which we recall so many good things.”

All the way back,
Walker ruminated. After everything they had undergone, it was a discouraging possibility to have to contemplate. A touch made him turn. Sque had come up silently behind him. She was chewing her morning treat of synthesized joqil, one of the two drugs (herbs, Walker dutifully corrected himself) she needed. Evening time would see her luxuriating in a dose of its complement, the pungent and perversely tempting si'dana. Reluctantly, she had once let the curious human taste the latter. To her disgust, he'd quickly spat it out. The powerful alkaloid tasted like powdered sulfur.

“Do not give up hope, Marcus Walker. How many times these past years would it have been all too easy to do so? I admit to having suffered from intermittent discouragement myself. Who would have not, given the odds arrayed against us?” A triplet of tentacles rose and gestured for emphasis. “Yet here we are on bland, bucolic Tuuqalia, having returned friend Braouk to his homeworld. Now it seems that it may be possible for I to do the same.” Three more slender, whip-like appendages wrapped encouragingly around his waist.

“By what we have accomplished we have already several times rendered impotent the word ‘impossible.' Half of us are to be returned home. I promise, that when we reach K'erem, I will intercede with the relevant authorities on your behalf.” The tentacles that had slid consolingly around his waist now withdrew. One arced down to pet George gently on the back of his head, mimicking the gesture she had so often seen Walker perform. The dog flinched, but did not retreat. A pet was a pet.

“Your people have never heard of Earth,” a dejected Walker muttered. “We haven't found a single space-traversing species that has.”

“Just so,” she hissed softly through her speaking tube. “But if the Niyyuu can find Hyff, and Niyyuu and Hyfft working together can succeed in locating Tuuqalia, then who is to say what the K'eremu can and cannot find? Would you put the deductive capabilities of all those species up against that of the K'eremu?”

Aware that Braouk was standing right there with them, Walker composed his reply carefully. “I certainly would not be the one to cast doubt on the scientific capabilities of the K'eremu.”

“A proper response,” she replied in her whispery voice. “My people have achieved many wonderful things. Even finding a primitive, out-of-the-way, backward world such as your own is not necessarily beyond them. I do admit the fact that no one has ever heard of it or visited it tends to complicate the matter, but where my people are concerned, there are no absolutes. Presently, I envision only one problem.”

“Why doesn't that overwhelm me with optimism?” George growled softly.

“Finding your world will doubtless require cooperation among the most eminent researchers in several fields,” she explained. “As you know, the K'eremu relish their individual solitude. Persuading the germane scientists to work together to try and locate your Earth may prove more difficult than actually doing so.” She swelled slightly, increasing her height another centimeter or two. “But as you know, I am not without persuasive skills myself. As a measure of our friendship, I shall exert myself to the utmost on your behalf.”

“Thanks, Sque.” Walker smiled down at her. “I'm really happy for you, that you're going home. Once we get there, we'll be glad of any help you can give us. We're glad of any help anyone can give us.”

“Excellent it is, to hear that said, by you.” Looming behind the three of them, Braouk raised all four upper tentacles in a gesture Walker thought he recognized. It seemed inappropriate at that moment, until the Tuuqalian continued. “Because I will still be able to render what aid I can, since I will be accompanying you.”

Turning, Walker gaped at the multi-limbed giant. “
What?
But you're home now, Braouk. You're back among your own kind.” Raising an arm, he gestured toward the far wall and the distant fertile fields beyond. “Back with your family. Back where you wanted to be.” He shook his head wonderingly. “Why would you want to leave all this? George and I aren't asking it of you. We wouldn't expect it of you. We wouldn't expect it of anyone.”

“Hell, no,” George agreed readily. “I'm not ashamed to say that if our situation was reversed, I'd be staying home in Chicago and waving you a fond farewell. Shoot, I'd settle for staying
anywhere
on Earth.” He thought a moment, added, “Well, maybe not Korea. Or Vietnam. But pretty much anywhere else.”

“This I do, as much for myself, as you,” Braouk informed them solemnly. Walker had shared the giant's company long enough to recognize and interpret certain movements, gestures, and inflections. What he was sensing now, more than anything else, was embarrassment. “I am afraid,” Braouk continued, “that I have not been completely forthcoming with you.”

Frowning, George trotted up to the base of the Tuuqalian. Though the dog was not much bigger than one of Braouk's eyes, he showed no fear. “That sounds suspiciously like you've been hiding something from us.”

Tentacles thick as tree roots swayed a bit aimlessly. “All Tuuqalians dream, of composing a saga, vastly beautiful. But in a mature society such as ours has become, inspiration is often lacking.” One eye dipped down to regard the dog while the other gazed at Walker and Sque. “It is said that out of bad things there oftentimes emerges some good. If you had asked it of me when I was a frustrated, introverted prisoner on board the ship of the Vilenjji, I would have replied that such a statement was not only untruthful but heartless.” Now all four upper limbs stretched wide to encompass them all.

“But our travels, and the comradeship that has developed between us, has proven the wrongness of that notion and the truth of the ancient adage. From our experiences I have derived much material for, and have been quietly working on, linking together the stanzas and strains of a grand saga that I believe will go down among my kind as one of the better of its recent type. But in order for that to be true, it must have closure. There must be a conclusion that provides sufficient justification for all that has gone before. I thought my returning home would provide that. But since I have been here, I feel it is not so.

“The conclusion to the saga can come only when all of us, when all of
you,
have also been returned to your homes. That will be my coda. A half-completed saga is no saga worth spinning at all. As for the fulfillment of my personal desires, now that the location of Tuuqalia is known to the ships of the Niyyuu and the Iollth, there will be no problem returning me home. It will always be here for me to enjoy. Whereas true inspiration comes but rarely.” The massive torso inclined toward George, teeth like serrated spades locking and unlocking with an audible clicking sound as their owner spoke.

“I hope you will all forgive me this small deception.”

With a dismissive grunt, George turned tail on the Tuuqalian. “Why didn't you just tell us that's how you feel? It's no big deal.”

“If you had known what I was about,” Braouk responded, “it might have altered your behavior. To serve as the basis for such an extended composition, the actions described therein must be entirely natural.”

Initially tense, Walker's expression melted into a slight grin. “So that's it. ‘Smile—you're on candid saga.' It's all right, Braouk. You can compose about me all you want. I'm just glad we'll be having you along for the rest of the ride.”

Stepping forward, he extended a hand. One flexible tentacle tip wrapped around his fingers in the human gesture of friendship Braouk had mastered early in their relationship. There was a time when it would have concerned Walker that the appendage grasping his hand could have effortlessly ripped his arm from its socket. No longer. Braouk might have the look of a nightmare, but he had the heart of a poet.

“Would you like to hear the first quotidian stanzas?” his friend asked eagerly.

Withdrawing his hand, Walker hastily composed a reply of his own. “Still some preparation, we have to do, before leaving. Surely you have arrangements to make, things to see to, as well?”

“Some few,” the Tuuqalian admitted. “Also, measures must be finalized for the others who will be accompanying us. It is important, that everything be coordinated, for travel.”

That brought Walker up short. “‘Others'?”

Braouk executed the equivalent of a Tuuqalian shrug. “Though your visit has been confined to the territory of my family, the notoriety of your experiences has been widely disseminated and appreciated. I am not the only one who finds inspiration in our history together. Others wish to experience something of it as well and, if possible, gain stimulation from the unique circumstances of our continuing encounter. Also, the government of the conjoined extended families of Tuuqalia is always grateful when one of its citizens is preserved from harm, and now wishes to express its gratitude in tangible terms.

“From both a need to acquire fresh artistic inspiration and a desire to reward you for helping in my salvation, the government has decided to provide four ships to escort and assist you all the rest of the way back to your homeworlds.” He straightened proudly. “As you may have observed, Tuuqalians do many things by fours.” Again, a single tentacle reached out, to rest its flexible end on Walker's shoulder.

“To avoid confusion and conflict, the four vessels and their crews will participate in and agree to the existing command arrangement. I have spoken with the relevant authorities and explained the particulars to them. The response was amenable. They foresee no difficulty placing the ships under your nominal command.”

Walker swallowed. This was getting out of hand. All he had hoped for, when leaving Seremathenn for Niyu, was to find one ship crewed by one sentient species that might be willing to help him and George, Sque and Braouk, find their respective ways home. Now, like some rolling galactic stone, they had gathered to them a very impressive cluster of twelve starships. With him as the ostensible head of operations. He might in truth be little more than a facilitating figurehead, but even that responsibility was growing daunting.

“That's very kind of the extended families.” More than a little overwhelmed, it was all he could think of to say.

George was more openly delighted. “
One
Tuuqalian ship would be enough to scare off any troublemakers. Four of them should be enough to scare anybody. And if that doesn't work, we can always sic the Iollth and the Niyyuu on anything that happens to get in our way. They'd both enjoy the digression.”

“We're not siccing anybody on anybody,” Walker warned the dog sternly. “This is and will stay a peaceful expedition, no matter how many decide to join in.”

“As a show of force,” Sque opined from behind them, “the number and diversity of vessels that will now be traveling with us should be more than adequate to stop any confrontation aborning. Even a K'eremu will acknowledge that an overwhelming display of strength is sometimes an adequate substitute for lack of intelligence.”