The Tar-aiym Krang (21 page)

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Authors: Alan Dean Foster

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“Look at the dome!” Flinx pointed.

For several inches of its height the dome was glowing a solid and unwavering crimson. Every now and then the cottony light would creep upward a few millimeters, only to sink back and disappear into the floor.

An hour later Truzenzuzex staggered out of the dome. Tse-Mallory had to support the philosoph around the b-thorax, as the old insect’s legs proved too shaky to manage on their own. The philosoph was visibly tired. Together they lurched down to the first row of alien benches. Truzenzuzex’s visage did not wrinkle as did a primate’s, but the usual healthy glow of his eyes was more subdued than before.

“You certainly labeled it correctly, brother,” he finally gasped, “when you said there was something trying to get inside your head! I felt like a youth again, trying to break out of my crysalis. Whew! I could tell it did no good, though.”

“Not true,” said Flinx. Malaika nodded confirmation. “You had the dome itself glowing red—around the base, anyway.”

“I did?” The whistling thranx laughter followed. “I suppose that is an accomplishment of sorts. I could not detect it from the inside. I was concentrating rather deeply, and my optics weren’t the nerves I was working with. Does that mean perhaps we are on a proper track?” He turned to face Malaika. The tone was gradually returning to his muscles. “Captain, I retract my earlier statement. Give me another three or four weeks at this and I believe I’ll be able to tell you, one way or another, whether this thing can ever be operated by man or thranx. Or whether your investment has proved itself a loss.”

Malaika looked resigned rather than frustrated. His own unsuccessful strivings with the Krang had produced a little patience, if no other results.


Bado Juzi.
‘Yet the day before yesterday.’ An old saying in my family, gentlemen. You’ve done already much more than I had a right to hope. Take your time, gentlesirs, take your time.”

Far below in the secret places of the planet the consciousness of the Krang stirred sluggishly. It considered more fully the impulses which had awakened the Prime Nexus with feeble, childish probings and pressures. Even in its semisomnolent state it was reasonably certain (+prob., 90.97,—prob., 8.03, random factoring, 1.00) that there was an A-class mind present above. One fully capable of arousing the Krang to the state of
Naisma,
or total effectiveness. Apparently it had chosen not to reveal itself yet. The machine considered and allowed the sections of itself which controlled intelligence to lapse back to dormancy, ready.

When the mind was ready, the Krang would be.

After all, it had been built that way.

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

 

As it developed, Truzenzuzex did not get his month. Nor his three weeks. They had been pouring over the accessible portions of the machine’s innards for only three days when Malaika’s comm signaled an extra-atmosphere incoming call. As a matter of safety his portable comm was hooked to the big transmitter in the crawler. Flinx was present when the signal came in, helping the two scientists with the more physical aspects of their work. Sissiph, Atha, and Wolf were back in the crawler, rearranging their supplies in its cavernous hold.

In order to facilitate their work, two cots (one modified) had been placed next to the scientists’ portastove. The others still found it more comfortable to sleep within the familiar confines of the crawler, despite the attendant daily walk it engendered.

Both scientists paused in their work the moment they spotted the strange expression which had come over Malaika’s face. Flinx picked it up from the sudden confusion of the merchant’s thoughts. He had been watching them labor over strange markings and unfamiliar alien switching devices all morning. Nine tenths of what they were trying to do mechanically eluded him. He had been able to help them with the more delicate portions of their operations, having, as they put it, a certain “feel” for where things were located. And as always, their conversation on both the vocal and mental level had been fascinating.

“Captain . . .” began Tse-Mallory.

“We’re being called,” the merchant replied. “Extra-atmospheric.”

His thoughts reflected suspicion as much as disbelief. He flipped over the broadcast switch of the tiny communit.

“Wolf, are you monitoring this?”

“Yes, captain,” came the unmodulated reply from the distant crawler.

“All right. Send an acknowledgment and put it over. Someone
knows
where we are. Not much use denying it.” He turned to the others. “We might be being monitored now, although I doubt it’s possible through these walls. But then, I also doubt we’re receiving a call from another starship, and that is the case.
Haidhuru.
Nothing matters. Leave your comms off and listen on mine, if you wish. No point in broadcasting how many units we have in operation. If they don’t know already.”

It was the first time Flinx had seen the merchant so downcast. Obviously the strain was taking a bigger toil of his resources than he cared to show. At any rate, all he said into the comm was, “Yes?”

The voice that responded was naturally high. But if the tone was slightly effeminate, the words were not.

“Captain Maxim Malaika, House-Head and Plutocrat? I bring you greetings, sir, from Madame Rashalleila Nuaman and Nuaman Enterprises.” Malaika’s lips twisted in a subvocal oath which made Flinx blush. “Congratulations!”

That superciliousness was sufficient to stimulate the merchant’s tongue.

“Damned decent of you. And who are
ninyi nyote?”

“Pardon? Oh,
I.
I am of little consequence. But for purposes of facilitating further conversation . . . which, I assure you,
will
be forthcoming . . . you may know me as Able Nikosos.”


Je,
Mister Nikosos. I agree wholeheartedly that your personage is doubtless of little consequence. I am curious as to how you got here. This planet seems to be acquiring a universal notoriety.”

“How so? Umm. As to your question, Captain, why,” and the voice reflected mock astonishment, “we followed you. Most of the way from Moth. At a discreet distance, of course. Speaking of which, you certainly changed your course a good deal at the beginning of your journey. Yes you did. But after the first week we had no trouble plotting your approximate course. You know, this is the fourth system in this sector with planets that we’ve visited. We knew more or less where the one we wanted was, but not its exact coordinates. It made it hard on us, yes hard, when we lost you completely. Those coordinates were on a bit of material which. . . . but never mind that. That’s long in the past now, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t by any chance get some help from a certain AAnn baron?”

“An AAnn baron?” The squeaky voice reflected surprise. Malaika glanced at Flinx.

“He’s telling the truth, sir. And they’re definitely in a set orbit.”

The two scientists looked in surprise at Flinx. Neither said anything, but he could sense a mild resentment of his secrecy in their thoughts. He wanted desperately to tell them of how necessary it was to maintain that secrecy. Even today, psi-sensitives were not universally popular, a fact he had found out early and painfully as a child. Now was not the time, though. The voice on the comm continued.

“What would we have to do with the AAnn? Nasty people, those, nasty! No indeed, sir. We found you all by ourselves, in spite of the difficulties your disappearance occasioned us. But we did find you, didn’t we? So no harm done. Besides, no use trying to share the blame, and I refuse to share the credit. Not that it should matter to you in the long run. Or even the short one.” A brief giggle broke the commentary. “My ship is parked a couple of field-lengths from your
Gloryhole.
We beamed it first. When we did not receive a reply and when the lock refused us entrance—how clever of you, captain!—we assumed you had already made your drop to the surface. A glance at your shuttlebay confirmed it.”

“Thelathini nguruwe!
Thirty pigs. Which is the ultimate number which can be fitted into a standard captain’s cabin, in case you didn’t know.”

The voice seemed immune to insult as well as to modesty. “Tut, tut, Captain. You’ll offend my modest nature.”

“Small chance of that.”

“Anyway, the emanations from your components would have revealed your location to us even if you had declined to acknowledge our call. As I am sure you were well aware.”

“Captain,” said Flinx, “I thought you said. . . .”

“Forgot about the relay to the shuttle’s comm. That’s what they’d pick up. They could hardly miss us anyway.” He was already setting up a last-ditch defense in his mind.

“Where are you now, friend Nikosos, other than in orbit?”

“A good guess, Captain. Why, we’re drifting over this moisture-poor continent. Rather close to you, I’ve no doubt. We should be down in a short while, at which time I hope to greet you personally.” The voice paused, then resumed again. “Whatever you are hiding in must really be something. We’re having no end of trouble picking up your signal.”

“You’ve traveled a long way for a lot of nothing, Nikosos. We’ve been working on this ‘whatever,’ as you so accurately say, for weeks now. We haven’t been able to figure out what it does, much less how it does it.”

“Certainly, captain, certainly!” The voice carried a humoring tone now. “Personally, whenever the cold of space affects me too deeply, I like to fly through the nearest M supergiant to warm my chilly bones. As I said, we’ll be seeing you shortly.”

“He doesn’t believe you,” said Flinx.

Malaika nodded. “And then?”

“Well, that does pose a problem, eh? I certainly can’t wave you on your happy way home, because then all my hard work would have been for naught, wouldn’t it? But then, assassination really isn’t my line, either. Perhaps something can be worked. . . .” Malaika cut the comm. He turned to the others.


Je,
you heard. Where new planets are concerned, possession is nine tenths of the ancient law. I doubt Rasha will leave me be to call in a Church Evaluation Force.” He switched the comm to interpersonnel frequency.

“Wolf, you heard everything?”

“Yes Captain.” The shadow-man’s reply was even. Flinx wondered if the pilot were capable of an excitement he never showed. “I fear that your pet took it rather hard, though. She’s fainted. Miss Moon is caring for her now.”


Je!
She will be quiet for a while then, anyway. We’re going to join you shortly. We’d best all remain
pamoja.”
He flipped off the comm again.

“What do you propose?” asked Tse-Mallory.

“Not much I can, sociologist. Even if this Nikosos person should be
mjinga
enough to come down without a portable defensive screen, it would be awkward to attempt to fight our way out. Although we are not,” and here he looked directly at Flinx, “without surprises of our own. However, I am certain the men he leaves on his ship—only one this time, for a change—will be monitoring everything that happens. We’d be at their mercy in the shuttle. If this Nikosos doesn’t bring a screen, and if we could surprise him and get off a crippling few shots before they had time to warn their starship, and if we could slip up to the
Gloryhole
under their detectors, and if we could get inside and get the generator powered before they noticed—why, we might have a good chance of sneaking off or fighting them.”

“Too many ‘ifs’,” said Truzenzuzex unnecessarily.


Kabisa,
quite. Still, we have other weapons. Rest assured I’ll try them. Bribery, for one, has often proven more effective in war than nucleonics. But I fear that Rasha wouldn’t send a creature that vulnerable on such an important mission. Not one who’d be tempted by total bribery, anyway. Partial, now. . . . There is only one other thing I can think of to do. There’s only one
mlango
to this building. Set up the rifle and blast the first being to enter it. As long as he has no certain idea of how we are equipped for supplies and guns he might be impatient enough to dicker with us. Unfortunately we don’t have much, even with what we could move in here from the shuttle.
Mibu,
all he has to do is burn the shuttle and take a leisurely safari back to Nineveh with coordinates for the Registry!”

“Why doesn’t he do that anyway?” asked Flinx.

“Not his assignment,
kijana,
or he wouldn’t even have bothered to call us. Simply disabled the
Glory
and been on his way. Obviously he needs to find out everything he can about the Krang.” He gestured at the two scientists. “Rasha knows about you two. I told her myself,
chura
that I am. She could hire experts of her own, but she knows your reputation. Rasha never neglects her homework. So I’m not worried for your lives. Only your reputations. I believe I can also manage something for myself. Too many people would ask awkward questions if I were to disappear suddenly. . . . even on a trip of exploration in an unspaced area. And he
can’t
make that much
fedha!
Oh, he still couldn’t afford to let any of us go free. Most likely he’s been ordered to keep us comfy someplace until Rasha’s investment here is tied up six ways in four dimensions. That veiled hint at ‘assassination’ was probably his way of opening bids.”

“A suggestion, captain,” said Truzenzuzex.

“Ndiyo?”

“Assuming all you’ve said to be true, why not simply accede quietly and give him what he wants?”

“What!” Even Flinx was startled.

“I assure you that the Krang will remain useless to both him and his employer. I was pessimistic when I said I would require three weeks to evaluate the machine’s potential usefulness. We could learn much about the Tar-Aiym from it, of that I’ve no doubt. I think that I can also say with a great deal of certitude right now that it will otherwise never be more than an outstanding curiosity for archeologists and
touristas.”


Lakini,
but . . . you got it working! Part of it, anyhow.”

“What I did was no more than polishing the drive coils of a Caplis generator. I succeeded in warming it up, perhaps, and appearing functional, but I doubt that I could ever, ever bring it to even partial operation. And we still have no more idea of what it’s supposed to do than we did before. No being could go further, I think . . . no matter who your Madame Nuaman engages.”

“If you’re positive—” began Malaika.

Truzenzuzex looked questioningly at Tse-Mallory and both turned back to the merchant. “Nothing is positive, Captain, but I will not bandy Church maxims with you. Without hesitation, I concur with my brother’s evaluation.”


Mbwa ulimwengu!
Very well, then. We will forgo destruction in favor of more subtle maneuvers.” He activated the comm for a wide broadcast channel. Now that he was on familiar ground once more, his voice had the old ring back. “Nikosos!”

There was a hiss, sput, pause, and then the mousey voice had returned. “No need to shout, captain. You have thoughts?”

“Look, agent I will give you the opportunity to gain what you wish and perhaps save a few lives in the process. I have a fully operational six millimeter laser rifle here, and plenty of charges, but I don’t see anything worth fighting over. I wish you luck in making it perform if you can, which I doubt. The whole city is yours. I wish only to leave this
nukia
as rapidly as possible. You may have our notes, if you wish. Everything we’ve found out about the Krang itself . . . which amounts to very little. But I’ve a boy and two women here, and I want them out of this.”

“How touching! I did not expect such admirable altruism from you, captain. Yes, despite my orders I think a financial agreement satisfactory to all concerned can be arranged. Blood tends to upset my liver, anyway. Although I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that you and your companions must remain as my guests for a short while. A minimal amount of time, really, but very necessary.”

“Naturally, I understand the necessity and will be glad to sign. . . .”

“Oh no, captain, that won’t be required. I trust your word. Your reputation precedes you. Personally I find honesty in our profession somewhat nauseating, but in this case it is to my advantage. No, much as you’d like to have such an agreement in words, I’d rather not have such a missive in existence. Such things have a habit of disappearing and turning up later. In the most
distressing
places. Shortly, now.

“Our flight has been interesting so far, captain, but I fear I should find this planet boring. If you would be so kind as to leave your transmitter on standby, we will follow its pulse in. This entire distasteful business can be speeded to completion. I am certain you have even less desire than I to prolong it.” He clicked off.

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