Quozl

by Alan Dean Foster

  He put the book down carefully, marking his place. “What happened?” His calmness astonished him.

  “Arlo. I can’t find him. I thought he’d be getting ready to come with us.”

  Arlo had been sleeping in the den. Enlightened era or not, he and Mindy were still only engaged. Mother would have insisted on the proprieties being observed, so the happy couple had preempted her concerns by volunteering the temporary sleeping arrangement.

  “I’ve looked everywhere,” she was saying worriedly. “Even out back by the compost heap.”

  “That would be a good place to check, yes,” said Chad studiously.

  “Finally I asked Mother, and she said that he’d mentioned something about going into Boise with Dad, for a change of scenery.”

  “And he neglected to tell you? He’s not going to find much excitement in Boise, but then for some reason I don’t expect he’ll be lingering there. Did he take his luggage?”

  She hesitated, unable to meet his eyes. “Just his backpack.”

  “Didn’t want to provoke any discomfiting questions. How thoughtful.”

  Mindy sat down in the single chair, put her head in her hands, and began to cry. There were no great racking sobs, only the softness of despair. Chad let it run for what he thought was a decent interval, then rose, walked over, and put an arm around her. After all, she was his only sister, even if she was a certifiable idiot. As he understood things, that mental condition was a common companion of being in love.

  When the proportion of sobs to sniffles had reversed, he went into the bathroom and returned with a handful of Kleenex, waited while she mopped at her face.

  “That’s it,” he told her. “Nothing we can do about it now. By the time we could talk Dad into making another trip, loverboy will be long gone.” He laughed derisively. “Dad will put him down right at the airport. Somebody in a hurry couldn’t charter faster service.”

  “But I trusted him.” Mindy’s tone and expression were agonized. “We’re going to get married, goddammit. I made him swear to me, over and over, that he wouldn’t tell, that he wouldn’t say anything to anyone else about what I wanted to show him.”

  “Easy to agree to when you haven’t been shown anything. Six weeks of meeting with aliens doubtless weakened his resolve. I suppose it would weaken anybody’s. Your Arlo’s no better or worse than anybody else, I guess.”

  “No! He’s better.”

  “Yeah, right. So tell me, big sister, what’s your lover likely to do? You know him better than I, or at least you think you do.”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled disconsolately.

  “Think, dammit. Is he likely to go to the Times? The tv stations?”

  “I told you I don’t know. He—might just sit and think about it for a while.”

  “Uh-huh. He struck me right off as a real thoughtful kind of guy. At least he doesn’t know where the colony is. We can give Runs and the others that much warning. I suppose the key is whether he can convince anybody else to take his story seriously. He didn’t believe you. Maybe, just maybe, nobody will believe him. If the Quozl can stay hidden for a couple of years, maybe he’ll give up on it.

  “We’ll have to ask Runs for advice. His people are the ones at risk here, not you and I. Do you have the guts to come with me and help explain what’s happened?”

  He didn’t expect her to agree, would have understood had she declined. She did not.

  “I guess I owe them that much, after what I’ve done. But I didn’t mean to, Chad! I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen. I like Runs-red-Talking and all the others we’ve met and I …”

  “Fell in love. Maybe the Quozl will understand. They like you too, Mindy. In spite of what you’ve done.”

  “Do you think they might react violently? I know what I’ve said about that, but this situation is different. Do you think they could actually hurt us?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’m not sure they do, either. I suppose a lot depends on whether they’ve considered the possibility of this happening.” He looked out the window. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  They said nothing immediately, letting the excited group of Quozl scientists set up their field experiments and lay out their sleeping pads. Runs-red-Talking was not so easily fooled, however. He confronted his human friends on the second day, his huge eyes switching back and forth between brother and sister, ears cocked alertly forward, tail stiff and motionless.

  “Something is in difficulty. Large, small?”

  “Quite large, I’m afraid.”

  “Very large,” Mindy added. She was resigned to whatever might happen.

  Chad wondered if she might panic. It wouldn’t do her any good. The slowest Quozl in the group could easily outrun her.

  “What is this matter that has you so concerned that it grooves your face, friend Chad?”

  “It’s out,” he said simply. “The secret. Your secret.” He turned to his sister. With both her brother and Runs gazing at her expectantly she had no choice but to respond.

  “It’s all my fault.” She was on the verge of tears, but her voice did not quite break. “I was engaged to be mated. My intended was named Arlo. I felt comfortable, felt good, about sharing my life with him. That meant sharing everything. You can’t keep secrets from your mate. You …” She did break down then. “He swore he’d keep the secret. He swore! But now he’s …”

  “He left with our father,” Chad explained when his sister was unable to continue. “He left without telling anybody he was leaving and he took some of his baggage with him. He didn’t come back. My father said Arlo mentioned something about an important meeting he’d forgotten and that he had to get back home quick. That’s the last anybody saw of him.

  “He’s in the business, see, where knowledge of your presence here could mean a lot of money.”

  “I understand.” Runs-red-Talking spoke carefully so he wouldn’t be misunderstood. “And you think this Arlo person would truly do such a thing for money?”

  “Everything was going so well,” Mindy mumbled. “We never fought or anything. I thought we understood each other. I guess—I guess he felt that if he’d talked about doing something like this I might have tried to stop him.”

  “I sure as hell would have,” said Chad fervently.

  “We have survived other crises.” Runs kicked thoughtfully at the ground.

  “Not like this,” said Chad tersely. “Don’t you understand? He has no intention of keeping your secret. As soon as he can manage it he’ll be back up here with media representatives, magazine reporters, photographers.”

  “Even if, as you suggest, none of these people believe what he tells them?”

  “It won’t matter.” Mindy’s sorrow was slowly giving way to bitterness. “He can hire photographers, people with detection equipment. He’ll find you, locate the colony.”

  “We are well hidden and there are safeguards against electronic intrusion. This person may not find the finding so easy. But this is a matter for the Elders to debate, not you and I.” He eyed Mindy sorrowfully. “You realize that this time more than my freedom may be forfeit.”

  “I said I was sorry, dammit! I don’t know what else to say.” She reached out to put an arm around his shoulders, realized that would constitute an uninvited Sama invasion, and pulled back, staring morosely at the ground.

  Runs-red-Talking whistled sharply to alert the members of the study team. “We will inform the Elders, but first I need to apprise my colleagues of this new development.”

  Chad and his sister sat off to one side, watching the Quozl discuss what had happened. The conversation was carried on at a distance since the Quozl were aware that both humans had grown conversant with their language.

  When they finished it was not Runs who spoke to them but Talks-through-Glass, the senior team member.

  “This matter is grave. You gain status from telling us instead of trying to protect yourselves. Actions show better than words how you truly feel
. I believe that you will help us if you can.”

  Mindy’s tone was earnest. “I’ll do anything to try and make up for what I’ve done.”

  “If anything can be done at this point,” the zoologist murmured sternly. “Perhaps there are ways to stop your intended mate from returning with others to search out our home. What those ways might be I cannot say. We three are scientists to whom human psychology is a dead-end tunnel. It will be up to the human studies section to make suggestions and for them and the Council to decide how to proceed.” He hesitated. “In order for them to make the best possible decisions they require the best possible input. That would include yours.”

  “Ours?” Chad was filled with a mixture of fear and excitement.

  “You must return with us, to prove firstly that you truly mean to help and also to offer your suggestions and advice. That is little enough to ask.”

  “You won’t be missed,” Runs reminded his friend. “You’re supposed to be camping here for many days. It is only a couple of days’ hike to the site of the colony.”

  “So close?” Chad had always thought in terms of a week’s walk.

  “I would have taken you there years ago, my friend, except for the danger.”

  “You’re actually going to take us to the colony?”

  “You already know so much. What does one more revelation matter? Do you agree to come with us?”

  “Of course we do.” When no response was forthcoming from his sister, he prompted her. “Don’t we, Mindy?”

  “Yes,” she whispered in a small voice.

  He could imagine her thoughts. Once inside the colony the Council of Elders could do with them as they wished. On the other hand, if they wanted him and his sister dead, Runs-red-Talking and Talks-through-Glass and the rest could accomplish that immediately. There were five of them.

  What were the Burrow Masters like? Despots, politicians, philosophers? It didn’t matter. Runs-red-Talking and he had matured together in an atmosphere of mutual respect and trust. That trust had been tarnished. All they had left was the respect, and Chad wasn’t going to jeopardize that. He would go to the colony to see if he could be of help, and so would his sister. If they had to bind and drag her.

  “Give us a few minutes to pack up.”

  “That will not be necessary,” Runs informed him. “You’ll be provided for.”

  “It’s not that.” Chad was scooping up camping equipment, food, and other freestanding items. “If anybody came looking for us and found just the tent they might think some harm had come to us. If they come looking and don’t find the tent they’ll assume we’re camping elsewhere until they do find something.”

  “That’s well thought through.” Talks-through-Glass gestured approvingly. “The stories Runs-red-Talking tells of you seem true.” His gaze flicked in Mindy’s direction. “You, we are not so sure of.”

  “I don’t blame you. Don’t worry.” She rose from her seat. “I’ll prove myself. I’ve been so damn self-centered through all this, but I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”

  “You cannot. You can only help us minimize.”

  XVII.

  ACTUALLY IT TOOK two and a half days to reach the valley of the colony. They crossed several mountain ridges, all high, none particularly difficult, only to discover a place as devoid of infrastructure as the campsite by the river. It was identical to the several valleys they had just traversed, with nothing to suggest that anything other than squirrels and badgers dwelt in its depths.

  But when one of the study team’s members pressed an open palm and his right ear to a depression in an uneven-sided boulder, the rock suddenly slid aside with a soft hiss to reveal a smooth-walled, plastic-lined tunnel beyond.

  Years of interacting only with Runs-red-Talking and later with groups of three to five Quozl had not prepared Chad to deal with the sight and smell of so many aliens in one place. A thriving population he expected. What startled him was the density. There were Quozl everywhere, rushing to and fro without bumping into one another, without so much as intruding on one another’s Sama. Some kind of internal radar prevented collisions. They repelled like furry magnets.

  And they talked. The noise was more overwhelming than the odor, a ceaseless high-pitched, breathy babble of male and female voices. In the enclosed tunnels and intersections it sounded like a million Buddhists alternately reciting the same mantra. He was reminded of the L.A. freeways at rush hour: everything moving slowly and methodically, the cars never quite smashing into each other, radios blaring and people talking above the overheated susurration of thousands of engines.

  Not all was activity and purpose. In places clusters of individuals paused to talk and debate, ears and mouths moving rapidly. Juveniles chased each other, weaving through the crowds, while infants on the verge of pubescence peered warily at the incredible congestion over the rims of their mother’s pouches. Adults paused at innumerable public mirrors to adjust their clothing.

  Shocking and graphic enough to draw the two young humans’ attention from the aliens themselves were the artworks that lined tunnel walls and dominated open places. None of it was reassuring. Chad had often discussed the barbaric, bloody past of the Quozl, but words were less threatening than sculptural depictions. More bloodspilling, disemboweling, and sheer sadism were on display than one would find on the screen at a rural drive-in in West Texas on a summer Saturday night.

  And all of it was rendered with exquisite attention to detail and taste. The peaceful, pacifistic Quozl strolled amiably through corridors that dripped with blood.

  He thought about asking Runs or Talks-through-Glass about a particularly gruesome bas-relief, had to remind himself he wasn’t on a sight-seeing trip. For their part Quozl glanced in the direction of the visitors, did a number of stunned double takes, and quickly looked away lest they be considered impolite. A few so lost their composure they didn’t care. They just stared.

  What really shook them was when Chad put both forearms alongside his head and imitated admonishing Quozl ear gestures with his hands.

  They were interviewed many times. The number of Quozl who had mastered English surprised not only Chad and Mindy but Runs-red-Talking as well. The linguists translated for the administrators and for those scientists for whom language was not a preeminent concern. None of the Burrow Masters spoke the tongues of Shiraz.

  The senior linguists spoke better English than Chad, complete to relevant colloquialisms and slang. They sometimes drifted over into French, which they had learned from watching Canadian satellite transmissions.

  Their room was small and cramped, though spacious by colony standards. While they were not watched it was made clear that they could not be allowed the run of the Burrows. Confusion and consternation among the general populace would be the result. Their brief appearance had caused enough of an uproar, which the authorities were having difficulty dealing with.

  The measure of Mindy’s contrition was that she did not once pull out her pad to sketch or make notes.

  By the third day it was apparent to Chad that certain conclusions had been reached. Oddly enough, he wasn’t worried about himself at all. For the benefit of the two humans the discussion was conducted in English as much as possible.

  “Two solitary infants accidentally encounter one another.” Short-key-Leaps was speaking authoritatively. “The course of two civilizations is altered as a result. One can plan forever, but individuals make fools of us all.” His ears bent out at right angles as he resumed his seat.

  “Once a heavy object begins to roll downhill it grows progressively more difficult to stop,” said another member of the surface studies team. “If not slowed it acquires a momentum and purpose all its own.” His gaze darted at Mindy for the barest instant. “I believe the correct English term is ‘avalanche.’”

  “This is what we are faced with.” Short-key-Leaps rose again. Chad admired the ritualized choreography even as he listened intently to every word.

  There was a brief pause as yo
unger members of the surface study team translated for the five Burrow Masters present. Only when they had concluded did Short resume speaking.

  “This is a thing grown too large to stop. If we could not halt it with logic in the past when it was of smaller dimensions, we surely cannot stop it now.” Both ears bent forward and down to momentarily cover his eyes.

  “The colony is invisible to sight but not to instruments sensitive to certain levels of the electromagnetic spectrum. We can put on an electronic mask with no guarantee it will not be seen through. In recent years the Shirazians have developed the ability to measure extremely low level radiation. A casual searcher will not find us. A determined one eventually will. We cannot measure the degree of this renegade human’s determination, nor can we gamble our entire future on it.” He turned to face Chad and Mindy.

  “It is generally agreed that knowledge of our existence here on Shiraz should have been kept from you for a minimum of another hundred cycles. That may no longer be possible.”

  He resumed his seat. There followed a period for meditation, in which Chad and his sister did their best to participate. At its conclusion one of the younger members of the surface study team rose. His English was not as good as that of Short-key-Leaps, but his tone was equally forceful.

  “Been decided it has been. We cannot allow first-time widespread contact/knowledge of our existence here prematurely to be disclosed by this Arlo human whom we know not knows us not at all. Must therefore with great reluctance and/or sadness take the initiative somehow and make the contact ourselves before he can reveal/disclose us. In vanishment of time we seek leverage.”

  Tries-simple-Glow took his place. Chad was a bit surprised to see her. He’d imagined her to be a mere technician. Perhaps circumstances had raised her status.

  She stared at him, whether out of curiosity or deliberate reproachfulness he had no way of determining. Age was revered among the Quozl and Mindy was older, but Mindy was the one guilty of betrayal. It greatly diminished her position among the Quozl.