Webdancers (30 page)

In his mind’s eye, Noah saw the waning battle,
experienced
all of it. And even before the fighting was complete and the remaining HibAdu ships had fled into space, he watched Tulyan caretaker ships take positions over the timehole. Perched there, the Tulyans dropped exploding packets into the opening and murmured their ancient incantations.

Gradually the cosmic hole became smaller and smaller, and presently it was no longer there.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

In the case of Noah Watanabe, the known rules of cellular physiology do not apply.

—Excerpt from CorpOne medical report

“You are something even more unusual now, aren’t you?” Eshaz stood over Noah, looking down at him with slitted, pale gray eyes.

“Some realities are not fact or science based,” Thinker said, standing beside the Tulyan. “Master Noah, increasingly, I must place information about you into my alternate data banks.”

Noah clasped one of Eshaz’s oversized hands, then reached over and patted his robotic companion on one of his metal shoulders. “My friends, it is good to see both of you. Very good, indeed. We have won a great victory at Yaree. It is the beginning of the end for the HibAdus.”

The reptilian man and the robot just stood there, looking at him.

“Well of course I’m different now,” Noah said. “Everyone is different from moment to moment. That’s true of each of you as well. Even you, Thinker, with your changing data banks.”

“Your skin is metamorphosing, isn’t it?” Eshaz said. “I sensed something once when I touched your shirt fabric. It was on one of your arms.” He squinted his slitted eyes, thinking back. “Your left arm. Through Tesh’s connection with
Webdancer
and the other podships, I learned from her that she actually felt rough skin under the sleeve on your left arm. Would you like to show it to us?”

“For what purpose?”

“You must trust us,” Eshaz said. “Perhaps we can help you.”

Noah hesitated, trying to maintain some personal space around himself. Then he sighed, and said, “All right, my friends.”

He stripped down to his shorts. All of the skin on his muscular body—with the exception of the neck, head, and hands—had turned gray, with deep veins of black coursing in several directions. “What am I becoming?” Noah asked. “A podship?”

“Accessing alternate data banks,” Thinker said, blinking his metal-lidded eyes. Orange lights flashed around his faceplate.

“How did you fly the space station to the starcloud?” Eshaz asked.

“Mmmm. Basically, I envisioned it, and it happened. Beyond that, I’m not sure.”

“Interesting,” the Tulyan said. Looking around the armored room, he said, “This is your sectoid chamber, then, and from here you control the amalgamated podships?”

Noah grew quiet for a moment, and heard the faint pulse of the cocooned Aopoddae. From this room, he was not in physical contact with their amalgamated flesh, but he was in touch with it in a different manner, and he cared deeply about the creatures. Through the link, he satisfied himself that the injured podships were beginning to heal, benefiting from their connection to their brethren, and from a connection they had with Timeweb.

Finally, Noah answered the question. “This is not a sectoid chamber at all. I just happened to be here when during the battle and the flight.”

“But the podships have cocooned you for a reason,” Eshaz said. “To protect you, obviously.”

“Supposedly I am immortal, and if that’s true I should not need protecting.” Then, remembering another vision he had in which his body tumbled free of the space station into a timehole, he said, “Perhaps you are right after all. They do offer me some protection. A great deal, actually. I think they enhance my mental abilities, as well. I feel more focused here, calmer and more centered. The podships actually trust me now, Eshaz!”

“Processing new data,” the cerebral robot said. “Remarkable information.”

“Knock it off, Thinker,” Noah said, as he put his clothes back on. “You don’t have to announce that you are processing data in order to do it.”

The metal-lidded eyes blinked quickly. “No, but I am feeling great excitement and astonishment at what is occurring around me. Programmed emotions, to be certain, but I want to be part of the discussion, sharing the joy of the moment with you. A great victory over the HibAdus and a new journey for Master Noah. Truly, these are epic times!”

Smiling, Noah said, “I recall making you the official historian of the Guardians, and the trustee of my life story. OK, my metal friend, process away.”

Meeting Eshaz’s gaze, Noah then said, “Everything that occurs here goes beyond this room, doesn’t it?”

“Not necessarily,” Eshaz said.

“With Thinker here, your answer seems easy to comprehend. If I instruct him to do so, he will bury the data somewhere. It could still be subject to detection by an expert investigating his data banks, but if any robot can successfully hide the information it is this one. You are not the same, though, Eshaz. You are linked to all Tulyans and to the Aopoddae.”

The reptilian man straightened. “Nonetheless, there are methods of concealing information from the truthing touch and from every other probe. What do you command of me, Master Noah?”

And what do you command of me, Master Noah?” Thinker said.

“If I wanted either of you to maintain confidentiality about me, I might
request
it, not command it. However, I see no way to keep the secret. It will get out eventually, because the podships cocooning me are linked to other podships, and in turn to their Tulyan pilots. Also to the one Parvii pilot, Tesh. No, it would get out anyway. And maybe it should.”

“We would do anything for you, Master Noah,” Thinker said.

“I know you would, and I appreciate that.” Noah finished dressing, and then said, “Lead the way, Eshaz. We must discuss the situation with the Council of Elders.”

“They asked me to tell you that is not necessary. Earlier, they were linked to you telepathically, and they obtained all the information about you that they needed. For the moment, anyway.”

“Very well. I suppose I can let them know I’m turning into a podman later.”

“With their probative powers they probably already know that,” Eshaz said, “but to make certain, I’ll let them know on your behalf. First Elder Kre’n also asked me to tell you that she actually permitted your cocoon to enter the starcloud in the first place. Our strongest minds—including her—detected your imminent approach, and opened the way for you.”

“Then why did they subject me to such intense scrutiny when I arrived?’

“For extra security purposes.”

“Can’t hurt, I guess.”

Eshaz scratched his side. “The First Elder agrees with you that EcoStation can be an important symbol for the Liberators, and for you as an eco-warrior. It could become a symbol of resistance, inspiring the people of various galactic races.”

These remarks only reminded Noah of his own limitations, and of his need to remain humble and respectful during all exchanges with the powerful Tulyan leaders.

“Please be sure to tell them we have a lot of bodies onboard,” Noah said. “I’d like the authorization to hold a burial ceremony somewhere in the starcloud.”

* * * * *

The Council of Elders gave permission for Noah to conduct services on the smallest of their three planets, in a flower-filled mountain meadow. The morning after Noah’s arrival, they provided transport ships to carry the mourners, along with more than twelve hundred bodies, to the destination.

As Noah boarded one of the ships and it pulled away from the cocoon, he felt a mounting panic, and considered asking the pilot to turn around and take him back. A sensation of dizziness came over him, and he felt weakness in the muscles of his legs, so that he had to hold onto a high railing for support when he stood—even though the flight through the mists was quite smooth.

“Are you all right, Master Noah?” It was Eshaz, reaching out to steady him by the arm. Thinker and Subi Danvar were there, too.

“I’m fine,” Noah said. As he had grown accustomed to doing, Noah wore clothing that completely covered the changes in his skin. This time, it was a green-and-brown Guardian uniform and cap.

Gradually, Noah felt a little better. But he came to suspect that it was only a stabilizing effect, and that he had to get used to feeling weaker away from the cocoon. How far he could journey from the amalgamated pods, he didn’t know. But he sensed a supportive, healing power here in the starcloud that gave him assurance that he could proceed with the burial ceremony.

When Noah disembarked on the high meadow, walking carefully, he said to Subi, “I am told that you are doing a terrific job in your duties with the fleet. While my Guardians have been merged into the Liberator force, I want you to oversee them in my place, whenever necessary. It seems that I am becoming rather occupied with other matters.”

“Yes, Master Noah, I will do that for you, until you are ready to resume your duties. I know how close the Guardians are to your heart.”

“Thank you.”

On the meadow grass, the entire Council of Elders greeted Noah, dressed in elegant black-and-gold robes. “I’m glad we are able to accommodate your desires,” Kre’n said. She shook his hand.

As the big alien woman held his hand, Noah felt the probing of her truthing touch. Another level of Tulyan security, he surmised. But he didn’t mind, and allowed her to complete her task. Finally she removed her grasp, and looking at him, she said, “You may indeed be the one spoken of in our legends.”

“I doubt if I qualify for any legends,” Noah said, with an embarrassed smile.

“More and more of us are agreeing with Eshaz’s assessment,” she insisted. “He thinks you are the first important member of the Human race in the history of the galaxy.”

“Oh, there have been far greater figures than myself,” Noah insisted.

“Perhaps not. You are the man who restored the ecological health of numerous Merchant Prince planets, and then went beyond even that. You are a man of vision. Many of us—myself included—believe that your emergence has triggered the resurgence of the Tulyan race. For the first time in millions of years, we are again dispatching caretaker teams to maintain and repair the web.” She paused. “Only time will tell how successful we are.”

Wrinkling his brow, Noah considered her comments for a moment, while she awaited his response. He remembered an earlier visit to the Tulyan council chamber, when Kre’n first mentioned the legend of a Savior to him. Some of the Elders had looked upon him with a certain reverence at that time, with the notable exception of the big, grumpy one, Dabiggio. Now, it was different. Even Dabiggo seemed to believe.

Presently Noah insisted, “I don’t think I’m the Savior spoken of in your legends. I am a mere Human, with a few quirks. However, I wish to do everything possible to make myself worthy of your respect. Admittedly, I do have certain leadership qualities that might prove helpful to others. As Master of the Guardians, I have been able to inspire others to achieve more than they might have without me. At this time, I find myself in a position to accomplish more than ever before. I hope I am not much more than a man, that I am not evolving into a god of any form, or your Savior. But if anything like that happens, if that is my destination, I shall be prepared to fulfill it.”

“Humbly,” Kre’n said. “I have already read this in your thoughts.”

Noah bowed to her. “Of course.”

“We Tulyans do not die often,” she said, “and we have always been underpopulated for the size of our starcloud. Consequently, we have plenty of space for burial plots. As we told Eshaz, this will be a single ceremony to include timehole and war victims alike, but there will be individual burials in carefully marked graves. Identities will be indicated if known, and there will be genetic charts for each victim. Later, if any of the family members want the remains sent somewhere else, those requests can be accommodated.”

“Thank you. It is very much appreciated.” Looking around, he saw gnarled mountaintops at higher elevations, and pristine lakes in a valley beneath the sentinel perches. It looked like someplace in a fairy tale, and the scenery alone seemed to return some of his strength. He stood tall as he accompanied the Elders to a large, flat stone where they all gathered.

Golden sunlight found its way through the mists of the starcloud, and bathed Noah in warmth. On meadows and grassy slopes around the site, he saw many Tulyans in white robes, standing beside coffins and grave sites that had already been dug. In those coffins were a variety of races. Though most of the timehole victims were Human, there were also Blippiqs, Huluvians, Salducians, and other races, including a couple of unidentified Mutatis who might have been spies sent by the vile Zultan, before his son Hari’Adab took control of the race and changed its alliances. Noah thought of the Mutati who had preferred being Human, Princess Meghina of Siriki, and wondered where she and her immortal companions could possibly be now.

Kre’n straightened her own robes, and stood facing the gravesites. Noah heard her words carrying far out on a warm breeze, without the need of electronics. As the Tulyan leader spoke, hundreds of tiny comets appeared high overhead, and sped through the mists separating the planets.

“We stand upon one of the miracles of our wondrous starcloud,” Kre’n said to the assemblage, as if in answer to Noah’s unspoken question. “This is one of our most sacred transmitting stones, one of the points where our most powerful intellects can stand, and dramatically increase the powers of mindlink. In this day and age, even at this very moment, we cannot afford to let our guard down for a moment.”

On the perimeter of the stone, several Tulyan men and women stood with their faces turned skyward, looking in different directions. They appeared to be in trances, but were undoubtedly watching for any approaching danger.

Kre’n continued: “We are honored to dedicate this sacred site to a new purpose, as the first multiracial graveyard on Tulyan soil. We are part of this great and just war and of the interconnected galaxy, and this is one of our contributions. All Tulyans are pleased to do this. In tribute to these dead, many of whom died honorably fighting for the Liberators, we have brought in a comet for each of them.”

Looking up, she pointed, and the comets put on a spectacular aerial show, speeding this way and that, swooping down almost to the valley floor and then going back up again, high into the ethereal mists. Then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone, as if the comets had taken the spirits of the dead to some other place.