The Loranth (Star Sojourner Book 1) (17 page)

A pair of naked, winged Shayls, those light gravfolk, perched on a table and ate imported lizgrain, a substitute for their natural prey. They were forbidden to hunt on Tartarus because of the method, which was to bring down prey with microbes developed within body glands.

A swarm of oblong zenorgisms pulsed by overhead, tightened into a lavender cloud and tossed golden Interstel coins among themselves as they headed for the Sagan Observatory. See Billions and Billions of Stars, its sign announced. Only Cleoceans could communicate with this unusual race. According to those water people, Zenorgisms weren't really a colony of individuals, nor were they a loosely knit single organism.

“Somewhere in between,” a Cleocean would casually tell you if you understood his language of barks, woofs and squeals. Yet Zenorgisms had developed organic space flight. They traded, worshipped their multilayered god, were not violent, and made the rest of us ask questions about the true nature of civilized life.

Speaking of violence, I guess we Terrans are right up there in the front of the interstellar line.
We will know our own natures only to the extent that we understand extraterrestrials.

Who had said that?

I understood one extraterrestrial perhaps better than I wanted to. Loranths and Terrans shared the same thought processes and basic concepts of reality. But as for knowing myself, I didn't like what Sye Kor had brought out in me.

The car turned onto a hilly dirt road. I knew it would, but I felt no smug satisfaction as I maintained a discreet distance and followed it toward the reservoir. With no other vehicles on the road, the dust cloud raised by Christine and Thad's car wasn't sufficient to hide my candy-striped bike.

I took to the woods.

“Do you wish suspension system adjusted for off-road conditions?” a monotone voice asked.

“Huh?”

The comp repeated it.

“Oh, yeah. I mean affirmative.”

“Shall I switch to low range gears?”

“Please do.”

“Would you like power boosters engaged?”

“Why not?”

“Conditions unpredictable on off-road terrain. Advise a more moderate speed.”

“Forget it. Just be quiet.”

I followed the car's dust, riding up slopes strewn with branches, logs, slippery twigs and leaves. A scrabbler scuttled sideways from my path. I was getting the feel of dirt riding again when I hit a flattened beer can too new to have dissolved. The bike slid out from under me.

I rolled, got up unbruised, swearing, and brushed myself off. “So why didn't you detect
that,
” I asked the comp and kicked a tire.

“Please specify meaning of
that
and refer to previous advice on safe speed. Also, be advised that tires are properly inflated.”

“Advice noted. Now shut the hell up.”

I got on the bike, hurried to close the gap with the distant car and wished I'd taken Gretch, who wasn't nearly as cold-blooded as alloys and enzylastic.

Ahead the reservoir.

The car pulled into the dirt parking lot near the lake. I stopped about fifty meters back in a stand of trees, took off the helmet and walked to the base of a sandstone mesa where my view of the lake was unimpeded. I unholstered the stingler, resolved to do whatever was necessary to save Leone, and spun the ring to stun setting.

Christine and Thad finally got out of the car. They were bare-handed. No skins of Kor's milky fluid. I sighed with relief, holstered the stingler and watched them walk onto the pier. Two fishermen were out in a rowboat, but there were four vehicles in the lot, including Christine and Thad's. Well, people hiked, camped, did field work in these Institute-patrolled woods. Then again…

Could this be a meeting place for zombies? Were those really just fishing poles the tags in the rowboat dangled in the water, or underwater transmitters to communicate with Kor? Was I getting paranoid?

Christine and Thad stood on the pier's end and stared into the lake. Checking its size? Maybe determining the amount of Loranth chemical necessary to subdue the town. I had a thought. If the treatment plant's purification systems couldn't detect the chemical or filter it out, and apparently it couldn't if Kor intended to poison the lake, would samples from Christine and Thad's own skins of fluid show anything unusual in the Institute's test results? It would, I thought, in its effect on a human subject.

Christine and Thad remained motionless. They might be directing Kor himself to the lake through a sunken river.

I exhaled a long breath and opened myself to his link.

Nothing.

A rustling of bushes behind me.

I swung, unholstered the stingler in one motion and almost lost the gun when I smacked my hand against a sapling. “Jack!”

“Hey, point that somewhere else, buddy.” He grinned. “You're the one always telling me guns are dangerous.”

“Jack.” I reached out my free hand, then drew it back. “Are you OK?” I kept the stingler pointed, suspicious now. “What're you doing here?” I searched his face for that vacant zombie expression, didn't see it, but he looked awfully pale and drawn.

“I followed you,” he said. “Tried to catch up, but you took off into the woods.” He glanced around. “What's happening?”

“What's happening? Gretch came back without you!”

He gestured toward the stingler. “Any chance of you lowering that?”

I shook my head. “It's set on stun. Sorry, but I need some answers first.”

He stared at the weapon, his jaw tight, then shrugged. “She came back, huh?” He motioned toward the bike. “Glad you switched mounts. That hump-spined firebreather threw me into a thistle bush an' took off. Had to walk the rest of the way to town.” He rubbed his rear and grinned. “Still pulling stickers out of my butt. Anyway, Annie an' the kids…” He lowered his head but I saw his mouth twitch. “They're OK. So is the rest of Leone. I guess your Loranth ain't such braun spikes after all.”

I wasn't really listening. I was watching him. He'd been under a real strain, but he lacked the lifeless stare I'd seen on Christine's face for two months, and had lived behind myself.

And that convinced me.

I lowered the gun with a sigh and holstered it. Christine and Thad were still standing motionless on the pier. I put a hand on Jack's shoulder and smiled. “I can't tell you how good it is to see you. I thought you were dead. Or worse.”

He looked down and kicked leaves.

A sliver of fear prodded me but I ignored it. “Listen,” I said, dropping my hand, “that's Christine and -“ I'd never seen thistle bushes on Tartarus, except for small seasonal pods. Of course I could've missed them, but somehow I doubted the odds on my well-worn path from the sanctuary to Cape Leone.

“And Thad,” I finished and backed a step. “How come you didn't check in with Hallarin?”

“Just did, before I followed you here,” he said softly, without animation.

“Oh? What'd the old crote have to say?” I raised a hand to my face and saw him flick a glance at the stingler. I scratched my cheek.

“He was on his way to church. Said we'd talk later. He needs it.” His smile was humorless. “Church, you know?” He stood motionless, staring past me.

What the hell was wrong with him? I felt as though ice water were trickling down my back. “Yeah, he's not the only one who needs it.” I chuckled to act relaxed, but could've used some divine intervention myself to set things right for Jack. “Well,” I half turned, “I guess we'd better get those two zombies.” I brushed off my pants, lifted my hand and drew the stingler.

He sprang at me!

We went down, rolled through leaves. The gun slid away.

“Jack!” I struggled to stop him from reaching it. “What the hell's wrong with you?”

He didn't answer, just got up and went for the stingler. I reached out a foot and tripped him, then scrambled to my knees and hit him across the back with my fists. I heard air rush from his lungs as he sprawled. “Dammit, Jack, I don't want to hurt you. Let's talk!”

He stretched out a hand and tried to reach the stingler. I threw myself on it, grabbed it and rolled away. It was still set on stun. I turned to fire but he was on me. He caught my wrist and pinned it to the ground. I still clutched the weapon.

“Christ, Jack!” I tried to kick him but couldn't pull my legs out from under his. “You're no zombie. Why are you doing this? Jack!” But I saw the grim set of his jaw and thought I knew the answer. Kor had threatened his family. Had to be. It made my struggle seem almost selfish. Maybe it slowed me too.

He grabbed my wrist with both hands, lifted it and slammed it back down so I'd release the stingler. I gritted my teeth against the pain, drew back my free hand and hit him across the jaw with everything I had.

He grunted, swayed, then backhanded me across the face. The scene jiggled and I clamped my teeth against the pain, but I still clung to the stingler. He always was a moose. My hand was numbing, my grip on the weapon loosening. I had no doubt that he was fighting for more than his own life.

“For Christ's sake, let's talk about it!” I squeezed out. “There's got to be another way.”

“There's only one, Julie.” Tears wet his face. I was hoping they blurred his vision!

He drew back a fist to hit me. I lifted a stiff arm, took the blow there with a cry, then threw him off, finally breaking his grip on my wrist. I shoved him back and he fell hard against a tree. “We'll talk when you wake up!” I lifted the stingler to fire. It was kicked from my hand. I cried out, held the hand against my chest and looked up.

Thad stood there, his boyish features locked in a hollow stare. “You're lost in a dark woods, intruder,” he said sadly, then looked at Jack, who picked up the stingler, spun the ring to hot and pointed it at me. “I think it's time to abandon all hope,” Thad added.

“Jack?” I stared at the gun, my heart a tight fist, each beat perhaps my last gasp of life. All the world that stingler pointed at my chest.

Jack's thumb was on the firing stud.

“You can't do it,” I said hoarsely. “I know you. You can't do it.”

“He wants you dead,” Jack said dully. “I think you stick in his craw. Getting Annie an' the kids off-planet wouldn't mean squat. He promised me that.”

“He's bluffing! We can work something out, buddy.” I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I felt sweat slide down my back. I steadied myself with a hand on a tree. “You're, you're not under his control. Jack. How are you going to live with my death on your conscience?”

“There is no real death, Jules,” Christine said as she approached from the pier. “But the Master wants your soul.” Her lips were pressed as she stared at me. “I could never understand you. Didn't you realize you'd be punished in the afterlife for your sins? Or did you think you were above that too?”

I tried to wet my lips. “Jack, you've got the gun,” I said. “Put these two zombies to sleep and let's talk. What do you say? For…” I tried to control the trembling. “For old times, buddy?”

He toyed with the ring, returned it to hot. “You think there's life after death, Julie?” he asked. “You were always smarter than me.” His voice, his face, held no emotion.

I couldn't stop shaking, couldn't take my eyes off that weapon. I tried to swallow and couldn't do that either. I lifted myself to my feet. “Then make it quick!” My voice came out in a rasp. “And don't miss.”

Thad patted my shoulder. “It's a far, far better place you go to.”

I considered shoving him into Jack and making a run for it, but he backed away.

“It's difficult,” Thad said, “to face the real truth. So much easier to ignore the important issues and just be an entertainer for your readers.”

“Shut up, Thad,” Christine ordered and turned to Jack. “How long do you intend to keep the Master waiting?”

I flinched as Jack raised the gun, but he brought it up to his own head.

“No!” I screamed.

Movement behind him. Off in the woods. Hallarin and four spikers! Hallarin stood with legs spread, a stingler pointed, and fired at Jack.

I threw myself away from the group as Jack collapsed, and prayed he hadn't been quick enough to press the firing stud on his own weapon.

Hallarin fired again and Christine staggered forward with a cry and fell. Thad backed toward the lake. Stumbled toward the lake like a drunk on a storm-tossed deck. My own legs tingled from the residual beam as I crawled toward Jack.

“Go ahead, heathen!” I heard Thad scream to Hallarin, “Shoot me if you think death is real. “If the red slayer thinks he slays,” he recited.

Hallarin fired. Thad stumbled toward the lake like a drunk on a storm-tossed deck. He collapsed with the poem in his throat.

I reached Jack. “Yes!” Just unconscious. “Hallarin?” I called. He was aiming at me. I got to my feet and waved both arms. “Hallarin, you got them. It's me! Jules! Don't fire!”

Coldness. Stark plunge into frigid waters closing. My legs went numb and buckled. I hugged the tree as I slid to my knees.

“We'll sort the zombies from the humans later,” I heard Hallarin say through a sea of ice cubes.

“You mother f -“ I squeezed out as my arms went numb and I sprawled on the ground.

“He holds on damn long,” I heard Hallarin say through a winter fog, “for such a skinny bastard.”

The frozen world shattered and crumbled. I crumbled with it.

Jewels? Sye Jewels?
The voice was a gentle touch within my mind. I tried to open my eyes, couldn't.

Do you listen me?

I tried to move my arms, to nod, couldn't do that either. I stemmed my sluggish flow of thoughts and focused on the press of a mattress against my back, the soreness in my right hand, especially the knuckles, a pounding in my head. I'd been in a fight.

Jack? I couldn't rest here, wherever here was. There was something I had to do.

This more drenesh than I've probable expect. Jewels, are you cloaking?

“What's cloaking?” I mumbled.

Ah! Better. Please now, guard not your thoughts. I've will form images et help communicate.

“Kor?”

No! No, Sye Jewels. A chuckle inside my head. Not mine. Many Loranths would cloak opposite Sye Kor.

“Who, then?”

Val Tir Sye Morth Loranth.

“Loranth!”

Yes, but please, rain my…dew me…do not hold me against this.

“Hold you against what?”

Yes. Welcome! First meet between ro Terran ro Loranth. Were I've bodied we would festivate with liquid.

He imaged me a glass of sparkling champagne.

“Celebrate?”

Yes, that word. This ro well.

“You think,” I said, “That there's no contact between a slave and his Loranth master? You think we didn't drink? Oh, we drank, while he celebrated.” I felt his mental sigh.

Yes. Much troubling between our peoples Loranths Terrans. Many us Loranths opposite Sye Kor's in sane.

I felt fear and knew that wasn't mine either. “Do your people know you're here, Sye Morth? Are they waiting for the outcome of this momentous meeting?”

Hesitation. A soft cloaking.

“And Kor's just a renegade? A bad worm in the family tree?”

Sadness.

Well, I'd known sadness, too.

Please, Sye Jewels, thought me no wrong-right ethic code. I've geth flight your Earthworld et learn language yo Webster's dick yo people Terran ways. Small sunpath I find there. Yo people Terrans see no great light, no great sunpath…truth. Yo people Terrans no crenish Great Mind. Brens anger I find, brens hatred sorrow, brens compel…force geth state on each otter.

“Other?”

Yes. Otter. But many et good tu. We Loranths our squabbles et tu.

“Why does Kor hate Terrans so much?”

He hates. Lifebind drenesh ta Sye Kor. Yo under stan?

“Under Stanley? Oh. Understand. Yeah, life sucks for Kor. Too fucking bad.”

Carrier death drenesh ta Kor. All, all drenesh. I've think ta accident make sour his mind pond.

“What accident? Is that how he lost his arm?”

Never minds accident. He hates.

“I'm sorry about Carrier. It wasn't supposed to happen. If you tell Kor that, Loranth to Loranth, would he call a truce with Cape Leone?”

Ah, no trus in this Kor's lifebind, none peace I've see.

Somehow I didn't think so. I tried to open my eyes again, but couldn't. “Are you holding me in some kind of mind bind?”

Yes.

“Well, let go!”

I look ahead his metamorph geth kwaii time. Will I ta help heal his kwaii with geth flights, with Great Mind Touch, can I've find His Touch agin.
He mentally sighed.
So much pain, blindness in lifebind! Sye Jewels, you see back ta planet Valshorles, people Ram-Ki? You see back?
He showed me a landscape of ruby light and smoky vistas, of two suns like bright marbles low in a smoldering sky and creatures of electric blue moving across glowing mounds.

“That binary star system?” I asked.

Mind back. Remember?

I felt a strange stirring, in response to Morth's enthusiasm, I assumed. “Sorry, Morth, I've never been there. I want to sit up.”

Strange remember no lifebinds, no geths your people Terrans. Yo me, Sye Jewels, long particle time back new. Yo me. We brothers!

“Yo brothers? I mean, you and me? We were brothers on that planet?”

Yesh! Much happy game together.

“You'll have to tell me about that someday. Right now there's a few more pressing matters. But right now. Listen, Morth, talk to your leader. Tell him the people…the Terrans and other aliens who inhabit Cape Leone mean Loranths no harm. Ask him to call off Sye Kor's murderous plans and let our races meet, and talk in peace.”

I canna mindlink ta monarch befo Calling Time. Sorry, Sye brother Jewels, but thris no probability ta change the ways of Sye Kor.

I felt the link fading.

“Wait! Then how can we stop Kor?”

Stop what? Body functions? Metamorph et geth? Oh no, no! No Law put Loranth ta geth! You crenish? Yo Jewels, yo must stop Kor wit Terran Law excrement.

“What the hell? Oh. Execute?”

That word! Hate I say that word but Kris N' canna no stop Sye Kor's create wit Terran hunter slaves, hen…then you musty execute.

“All right. Just tell me
how
. Give me the means, Sye Morth. Whatever it takes to stop that bastard from destroying Cape Leone!”

Bastard? Kor haf legal parents et Loranths gene carriers.

See look?
He showed me an image of Terrans and Loranths hugging. The Loranths all looked like Sye Kor. My stomach felt queasy.

Single brensh, you crenish?

“Yeah, bring our people together. Sounds great, but first Sye Kor must be killed…executed.” I had a thought. “Do all Loranths hold other races as slave-hunters?”

Oh no! No. Only dimminds. No intels.

“Then why can't your leaders stop him? You have leaders?”

We have Kris N', Law Giver, but no law ta slay ro Loranth.

“It's OK for Sye Kor to hold Terrans like animals? To kill them when it pleases him, but you have no law to stop him from wiping out an entire town?” I tried to get up again, but couldn't move. “Let go of this goddamned mind bind!”

When geth state comes for Kor's body, Law Giver will find him a lowly bottom-dweller for next lifebind. It will not be a pleasant bind-time.”

“
That's
his punishment? And meanwhile he's free to destroy an entire town? What kind of people are you?”

We are the Lords of Syl' Tyrria, the Keepers of Homeworld.

“How will your people respond if I kill Sye Kor? Does he have friends? Followers who might seek revenge on Terrans?”

Oh. Small brens, se no many. My people take not happy ro arrow gence.

“Arrogance?” Hah! They could be the poster child for it. “Can you give me a little hint on how to stop him, Morth?”

Prehaps next Calling Time, Old Monarch Krs'N threaten ro Kor ta exile toe bottom. Slime.

“How long?”

How long what?

“Till the next Calling Time!”

Where I abide in blissful Geth only eternal no-time.

“Why did you come here, Morth? You can't help me or my people. Kor says he's going after Earth, my homeworld.”

Ah, Jewels, there is na homeworld an all is flax.

“Flux?”

Ye. That too. Bye good.

I felt the mind-link slipping. “Wait! Wait, Morth. There is…was a girl. My sister. She died nine years ago. Just a child.”

Sister child, yes Sye Jewels. I feel yo alone. But se all kwaiis touch, link, some particle time,
he sent gently.
Yo lifebind sister grs Ulum planet, diss tent galaxy. Yo, she crenishlink some mind diss tent time future. Do not…not dead flowers ro sister, yo crenish? Not dead flowers ta geth. Do no morn.

“Don't mourn?”

Yesh, Sye brother.

“Is she still human?”

Terran? No. Cou live no Terran form et Ulum. She Zwe…Zwegq cannot proclaim…enunciate Zwegq.

I felt tears slide into my ears but I could not lift an arm to wipe them. “Is she happy?”

Happy. Well adapted. Felicitous.

“Yes, Morth, those words.”

Do not know thris, sorry Sye Jewels. Zwegq…different diction ways. No Webster dick.

His mindlink was fading.

“Wait! Morth. Can Sye Kor kill Terrans on other planets?”

I felt his spur of fear.

Otter planet Earth? And otter Terran colonies? Si. I mean yesh. Sye Kor threaten yo this?

“Yesh! I mean yes. Kor's psychotic, Morth. I don't care about your Calling Time or how pleasant geth state is for the dead. He's got to be stopped!”

Thris will I link, ro brother. Ta Home-Pond of Kor et sub ta tunnel. Should na I link this, but yo me ro brother.

“I know there's a connection. Carrier came through to his pond. Where does it lead to?”

Ta Mother Sea. Yesh. An ta Sacred Grotto ro Calling Time. Yo will fine Kor there. Thris say is all, Sye Brother, or am I in threat ro bottom-bind ta sheller.

“I appreciate the risk you've taken for my people, Morth. But I still don't have a clue on the time of the Calling, and even if I'm armed, Kor's a very powerful telepath. How can I fight that?”

Ro Brother mine, yo tel electrons…power growth expanding like micro nova. Musty use it ta hear the Calling Time an ta power over Kor.

Then he cloaked and I was left alone in darkness. I opened my eyes. “Morth?”

A sense of yearning for something. Space. Stars, I think.

“Morth?”

I was alone within my mind and within my life.

I opened my eyes. A holo ceiling: Earth-blue sky, clouds scudding, ocean waves foaming over white sands. Empty shells rolling ashore. Soothing? Debatable. I threw aside the covers and sat up.

“Now don't try to get up yet, Mister Rammis.” A thin, tired-looking nurse left her chair to feel my forehead. “You must lie down until the doctor examines you.”

A window view of red canyons, wings of flaming clouds as a failing sun torched the day. Time running out with the draining of light.

“There's a lot of things I must do, nurse. Lying down's not one of them. Sorry.”

I got up, went to the closet, took out my clothes and threw them on the bed. “Where's my stingler?”

“Get back in bed, Mister Rammis.” Her tone turned severe. “You've been talking to yourself for the last half hour. Now
please,
lie down!”

“Now I'm talking to you. Where's my stingler?”

Her look was tinged with fear. “I'll get the doctor.” She left the room.

I'd try the reservoir first, I decided as I got dressed. If Kor wasn't there, I'd take Jack's police manta and fly out to the crotemunger's lair. I couldn't wait for the Calling Time. Before that sun set, Kor and I would have a talk.

At least.

I'd apologize again for Carrier's death. What benefits could Loranths reap from contact with the galactic community of Interstel? What did a Loranth require, or want that he didn't already have? Christine might know. In a few days she should be back to normal. Thad too.

I pulled on a boot, paused. Did Loranths have a deep abiding love of cultural exchange, as we Terrans and other races had?

I shoved on the other boot. Not all of them!

“Trade you a pair of breeding Terrans for a healthy young grunithe stallion!” I muttered sarcastically to myself. I squeezed my throbbing temples and squinted at the sunset through the high windows.

Time! Some scientists will tell you it doesn't exist. I threw on my jacket. Had they ever known urgency or the concept of time running out?

There's no walking away from this one, Rammis.
I searched frantically through the cabinet drawers for my stingler, went to the closet, dug past sealed enzlastic bowls, bedpans, cups, pitchers, hoping to close my hand on the weapon's cool metal.

Nothing! I had an insane desire to laugh, perhaps hysterically. I was going to save Leone, maybe even Earth, with a Carson hand-held adjustable stingler. And I couldn't even hang on to one! The tight feeling in my stomach was fear, I admitted. But not for me. Not this time.

Time…

It might have already run out, for all I knew. Why'd that croteass Hallarin beam me anyway? I kicked the closet door shut. It yawned open. “Goddamn you, Hallarin!” I kicked it again. “You dumb croteassing spawn of a senile mudlumper!”

“You're sounding normal. For you.”

“Listen, Doc!” I turned.

“But you've still got a foul mouth, Rammis,” Hallarin said from the doorway in his cracked- cement voice. He shook his head, closed the closet door softly as he went by, and sat down.

“Where the fuck's my stingler?”

“Weapons aren't allowed in the hospital. Only doctors get to play with beam instruments.” He took out a cigar, lit it, puffed it to life. “Mind if I smoke?” he said absently from behind a pod of smoke and squinted at me. “What happened up there at the reservoir?”

“I don't think they were trying to poison the water after all. So you finally believe me?”

He didn't answer.

I rubbed a hand across my mouth and paced. “I think they were guiding Kor there to do it himself. You understand what I'm saying? We'd all better learn to like imported sparkle-bru.”

He chewed his cigar and watched me.

“Did Jack tell you Kor threatened his family?”

“The reservoir treatment plant's doing a continuous water check. Institute's on it too. They say the water checks out just fine.”

“They need to test it on human subjects. Do they know that?”

“You volunteering?”

“I've got other things to do. How's Jack? Is he still in the hospital?”

“He doesn't like the BS treatment.”

“What?”

He rolled the cigar between fingers. “Behavioral Sciences. He doesn't like them messing with his head. Refused to sign the forms for corrective implants. He's a good cop, Rammis. It would've been nice if you hadn't dragged him into your mess.”

“For chrissake, Hallarin, there's nothing wrong with Jack. He's no zombie.”

“It looked a lot like he was trying to commit suicide from where I stood.”

“Kor has him backed into a corner. It was either kill me or lose his family.” I stared through the window. The sun continued its slow descent, dragging the blanket of night down over it. “He chose to kill himself so Kor would have no excuse to attack his family.”