The Light-years Beneath My Feet (6 page)

“If we knew that,” the dog was saying in response to Walker’s question, “we’d probably have some idea what she was hiding. Maybe I’m way off base here, Marc. I have to keep reminding myself that we’re not captives on a Vilenjji collecting craft and that we’re here of our own free will.”

“It’ll be better once we get there. You’ll see.” Rolling over, he leaned across the narrow divide that separated their respective sleeping platforms and began to scratch the dog’s back.

George’s eyes half closed, and an expression of pleasure crossed his bushy face. “Farther down. Farther.” The dog’s eyes shut completely. “That’s it—both hip bones.” Walker continued scratching until his friend settled down on his stomach. “Thanks. Every once in a while it’s useful for me to be reminded why I keep you around.”

Walker grinned. “Because if we happen to stumble across a pile of dog food, you’ll need somebody to operate the can opener?”

“Sque’s right. You’re learning.” More seriously he added, “I may be paranoid, but paranoia’s kept me alive more than once. You keep an eye on that Viyv-pym specimen. And not the kind of eye you’ve been using.”

Walker feigned shock. “George, she’s an
alien
. She’s not even mammalian, in the scientific sense.”

“It’s not scientific sense that worries me here.” The dog eyed him evenly, cocking his head to one side, ears flopping. “It’s another one.”

“Look, I won’t deny that I find her attractive. But that’s all. It’s purely a matter of dispassionate aesthetics. The same’s true for every Niyyuu. They’re just a physically striking species, if verbally irritating.” He was very earnest.

The dog nodded tersely. “Let’s hope the irritation is confined to the verbal.”

“If my spending time trying to learn about her world and her people is worrying you that much,” Walker suggested, “why not ask Sque’s opinion?”

George snorted softly. “I said I was concerned, not daft. I don’t need to go looking for insults. I can find plenty without having to search for them.” With that, he rolled over onto his back, thrust his legs into the air, and gave every indication of embarking on a quick nap.

Walker let the matter drop. He was bemused by Viyv-pym, perhaps even beguiled, but he was not worried. She was too direct to be duplicitous. If he hadn’t felt that he could trust her, he would never have agreed to undertake the current journey.

Or would he? Had he been blinded by the chance to travel—hopefully—a little closer to home? Was there some aspect of her personality, of Niyyuuan nature, that his enthusiasm for the opportunity had caused him to overlook? He didn’t think so. A part of him almost wished his friends had not agreed to come with him, though. Because they had, and because it was his idea, he felt responsible for them. Braouk would have shrugged off the notion with verse, while Sque would have considered it beneath debate. Only the ever-ready George would have dumped a dutiful dollop of guilt on his fellow Chicagoan.

That settled it, Walker decided with a small smile. In some earlier incarnation, George must have been a Jewish or Italian grandmother.

4

W
hen word came down from ship command that arrival at Niyu was imminent, Walker’s wonderfully durable cheap watch informed him it had been nearly a month since they had left Seremathenn. Knowing nothing of the particulars of transpatial travel except that it was all relative, Walker could not assess if the journey had been swift or slow, or if it would be considered long or short. It was left to Sque to enlighten him as they prepared themselves and their few personal belongings for incipient disembarkation.

“Everything depends on the comparative velocity a container achieves while traversing that singular portion of space-time that makes interstellar travel possible.”

She elucidated while clinging to the crest of Braouk’s upper body, her tendrils securely entwined in the yellow-green bristles that covered him. One Tuuqalian eyestalk curled up to monitor her position while the other remained level and drawn in, taking the measure of the path ahead of them. Though Braouk was only giving her a ride, the incongruous temporary coupling made it appear as if the Tuuqalian had unexpectedly grown a small, rubbery head while the K’eremu had developed a truly enormous lower body.

“I don’t need a detailed explanation.” Heading down a ramp, Walker was careful not to bump into George as the dog trotted alongside him.

“That is sensible, since you would not understand it anyway.” The K’eremu considered briefly. “Devoid of the necessary technical input and basing my remarks, you understand, on the most casual and infrequent observation of the stellar neighborhood through which we have recently passed, I should say that unless for some unknown and unimaginable reason our hosts were compelled to take a circuitous route in returning to their homeworld we have traveled a considerable distance.”

Walker’s tone would have done Sque herself proud. “Oh good—thanks so much for pinning it down for me.” He and George turned a corner, following a male Niyyuuan’s lead.

Tendrils fluttered as the K’eremu shifted her position slightly atop the Tuuqalian’s crest. “Do not be impertinent. Do you expect one, even one such as myself, to be able to accurately estimate the distances involved in interstellar travel by simply eyeballing the view outside an optical port? It is not like pacing off the feluuls on a beach, you know. Besides, the direction we have traveled is far more important than the distance.”

“What direction might that be?” George inquired, glancing back and up at her.

“The right one, we must hope.” The K’eremu went silent. They were approaching an exit.

Viyv-pym was waiting for them there. The change in her demeanor was evident even to her non-Niyyuu charges. Her movements were more erratic, her manner of speaking even sharper than usual, while neck frill and multiple tails were in constant motion instead of rising and falling only when necessary to emphasize a point. Walker could not be sure of his friends’ reaction, but to him their hostess looked decidedly nervous. So much so that as she shepherded them through customs checkpoints that were far less elaborate than those they had encountered on Seremathenn, Walker was moved to comment.

“Of course I edge-being,” she snapped sharply in response to his query. “Do you not listen my talking on Seremathenn, on ship? This very important engaging I have made done with you all.” As she spoke, her remarkable eyes were scanning the far end of the hallway.

Wondering as to its purpose, Walker was guided through an archway. Somewhere out of his range of vision, something beeped minutely. It must have been a favorable beep, because he was waved on. One by one, his friends followed—all except Braouk, who was too big to pass through. A trio of gray- and blue-clad Niyyuu armed with portable instruments promptly descended on him and proceeded to pass the business ends of the devices they carried over his body. The Tuuqalian tolerated the intimate inspection for as long as he could stand it. Then he lumbered forward to rejoin his companions. Apparently deciding that their inspection had been sufficient, none of the three Niyyuuan officials chose to challenge his departure, their collective inaction thereby reasserting their species’ claim to higher intelligence.

“What’s wrong?” Walker finally felt compelled to ask as they continued down the hallway. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Whatever it was, he prayed it had nothing to do with their presence.

She turned on him so abruptly that he flinched. “Fool of a provisional decision! Is not clear you? I expend much in bringing yous to Niyu. Much more I invest in bringing yous onward to Kojn-umm.” When he didn’t reply she added, her exasperation unbounded, “Here, home, I am become just like you, pale-skin Marc. I am employee too!”

So that was it, he realized as he strode along beside her. On Seremathenn she might have been dominant and in complete control of her fellow Niyyuu, but here she was subordinate to others. It made sense. In her defense, she had never claimed to be anything more than a posh procurer. But it was still strange to see the one on whom he had come to rely totally frill-flashing with unease at the thought she might have made a mistake.

It would be up to him, he realized, and his friends, to ensure that she did not suffer for making that choice. But mostly up to him.

The group that met them in the middle of an expansive, translucent-ceilinged rotunda was undeniably impressive, standing out from the bustle of other mostly, but not exclusively, Niyyuuan travelers. There were five of the greeters. Like Viyv-pym, each was clad in a variant of the familiar kilt-skirt and upper-body wrappings. Like her, each of the greeters flashed small bits and pieces of personal adornment to which the always-overdressed Sque paid particular attention.

Unlike the K’eremu, they carried forearm-length tubular devices that were strongly suggestive of weapons.

Why would a greeting party sent to welcome a cook and his friends find it necessary to come armed? Walker found himself wondering. Perhaps the devices served a more ceremonial than practical purpose, and were carried more for show than out of any fear of necessity. His thoughts were drawn in that direction because each of the spiral-holstered instruments flaunted one or more types of individual decoration, from engraving that had been performed on their plasticlike bodies to distinctive touches that utilized bright metal and polished gemstone.

None of the greeters drew his or her weapon in salute, however. The leader—a male, to judge by the color and shape of his frill—was almost stocky for a Niyyuu, though still markedly slimmer than Walker. Striding directly up to Viyv-pym, he briefly inspected each of the alien arrivals in turn before addressing their hostess. Walker’s Vilenjji implant conveyed the meaning of the escort’s speech with admirable clarity.

“Sayings tell you hire one. I see four.”

She extended one long, sinuous arm in the attentive human’s direction. “The one would not come without his friends.”

“Friends?” The leader of the escort hesitated visibly. “No two is alike. All of different species.”

“Yet friends they are,” Viyv-pym insisted. “Was only matter of additional bringing. Was ample room on ship.”

“Perhaps is a problem of adequate room in Kojn-umm.” The escort leader made a gesture Walker did not recognize. He hoped it was more encouraging that the newcomers’ words. “Not for me to say. Not for you to say.” So not saying, he turned to face Walker and his friends directly.

“I am Abrid-lon, scion and accountant of Kinuvu-dih-vrojj, administrator of Kojn-umm.”

An accountant. Definitely ceremonial, Walker decided on re-viewing the weaponlike devices each member of their escort displayed.

“Nice to meet you.” Walker thought about extending a hand, but decided to hold off. While Viyv-pym was by now familiar with the human gesture, this Niyyuu was not, and it was too soon after their arrival to chance gestures that might be misinterpreted.

Though he wore the same type of external translator Viyv-pym employed, Abrid-lon ignored him. “This is the cook?”

“This indeed him,” their hostess replied without hesitation.

Dominating yellow eyes peered down at the shorter but much bulkier arrival. “I welcome you—and you’s friends. All has been made ready for you. Living quarters to match yous’ standards on Seremathenn close as possible. Working site equipped with latest utensils and tools for nonsynthesized food preparation. Kinuvu-dih-vrojj and government officials look forward to you workings.” His frill erected to maximum. “Kojn-umm renowned throughout Niyu for its respect for all arts.”

Initially made uneasy by Viyv-pym’s unexplained nervousness, Abrid-lon’s brusque but heartfelt welcome made Walker feel much better. Behind him, he could sense his companions stirring impatiently.

“I look forward to beginning work,” he informed the escort leader truthfully. “How far to our quarters? A time-part or so?”

Abrid-lon gestured apologetically. “Kojn-umm large realm. Some traveling time involved, I say regrettably. With best possible traveling, arrive there late tonight.”

Oh, well, Walker mused. He would have the opportunity to view the approach to his new home another time.

He was left to chat with his friends as Abrid-lon engaged Viyv-pym in extended conversation. Distance rendered the Vilenjji implant inoperative, since it was dependent on his own hearing abilities to recover sufficient speech suitable for translation. As they were guided outside the port and toward a waiting transport vehicle, George inhaled deeply alongside Walker.

“Smell that! The air here is even fresher and more oxygen-rich than Seremathenn’s. I know it’s hopefully just a temporary state of affairs, but I think I’m going to like it here. The locals may be a bit gruff, but they’re civilized and friendly enough.”

In human and canine terms, anyway, the dog was half-right.

The journey from the port to Kojn-umm’s center of government was accomplished by means of small individual transports that traveled above open stretches of land. These cut through fields of waving, short-stemmed corkscrew growths that terminated in flowerlike cerulean and yellow bursts of color. They were more than fungi, less than flowers. A more visually appealing route would have been difficult to imagine. Walker’s excitement at finding himself on yet another new world was muted somewhat by the knowledge that it was already late when they had touched down on the surface of Niyu, and that they would not be arriving at their new home until after dark.

Despite the earliness of the hour when they finally reached its outskirts, Ehbahr city was still sufficiently illuminated for the newcomers to be taken aback by its modest size. It would have barely qualified as a small suburb to one of Seremathenn’s vast urban concentrations. Among the four fellow travelers, only Sque was not disappointed. The K’eremu preferred isolation and retreat to vast metropolitan concentrations, only joining together to form such when the needs of civilization and commerce demanded it. Walker, who had been expecting something like a smaller version of the great aesthetic conurbations that dominated highly developed Seremathenn, was openly disenchanted.

“Capital Ehbahr is larger than appears, especially at night. Much our industry built underground,” Viyv-pym explained in response to their queries. “Better to preserve actual landscape for beauty, for living, for keeping of cultural history.”

“Very admirable. We understand.” Walker looked over at his closest companion. “Don’t we, George. George?” Head on paws, the dog was sound asleep. The voyage and subsequent exhilaration attendant upon landing had thoroughly exhausted him.

“And for war, of course,” their guide and hostess added.

Walker blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard her.” From her position hanging upside down from the roof of the transport, Sque waved a couple of tendrils. “So much for trading one ‘advanced’ culture for another. A fine choice you have made for us, human.”

“Wait, wait.” One spoken word, assuming the Vilenjji translator had correctly conveyed its meaning, had banished all thoughts of sleep from his mind. “When I agreed to come here, Viyv-pym, you didn’t say anything about your realm being at war. Who is Kojn-umm at war
with
?” His hopes, so neatly aligned and optimistic, had been shattered like orange juice futures by a frost in Brazil.

It was as if those vast, expressive, yellow and gold orbs had suddenly turned cold. “At moment, with realm of Toroud-eed. Next ten-day gathering, with somebody else. Then maybe Toroud-eed again, or possibly Sasajun-aaf. Who else would realm be at war with?” When he did not respond, she added unhelpfully, “Is nothing worry about. Is natural state of affairs.”

A deep voice, the soul of glumness, rumbled from the back of the transport. “Here we sit, come all this way, conflict awaiting.” Given his habitual melancholy it was often difficult to tell exactly how Braouk was feeling. Not now. The Tuuqalian was as disheartened by the unexpected turn of affairs as Sque was scornful. As for George, Walker was grateful the often-acerbic George was still asleep.

Helplessly, as they slowed and entered the city, he asked, “How can you be at war with anybody and say it’s ‘nothing worry about’? Much less say ‘is natural state of affairs’?”

“You not have ongoing or at least periodic war between individual realms where you’s home is?”

He looked away briefly. “Yes, we have such wars, I’m sorry to say. I have been told that Braouk’s people do as well. Not Sque’s, I believe.”

“Only occasionally on a personal level,” the K’eremu amended him helpfully. “When two individuals disagree excessively on a point of Melachian philosophy, for example, or concerning the worth of a new piece of siibalon vibrato. On such occasions, fighting usually commences with a vicious exchange of harsh language. On rare instances, blows may be thrown, perhaps even accompanied by a flung rock or two.”

“That’s not war,” Walker muttered crossly. “That’s a domestic dispute.” He turned back to their hostess. “How long has this kind of episodic fighting been going on?” He trusted his implant to handle the translation of the relevant time frame.

It did. Whatever else one thought about the Vilenjji, their technology was admirably reliable. “About nine thousand years,” Viyv-pym informed him without missing a beat. “Ever since Niyyuu become civilized.”