The False Mirror

by Alan Dean Foster

  "There should be a Human xenologist present," said the Massood, hastening to add, "I intend no suggestion of incompetence, D'oud."

  "That's all right, though I'm not sure I agree with you. I don't know that a Human xenologist would bring any more insight to this process."

  "What are you going to do with me?" Ranji asked them. "Different interrogators give me different answers."

  D'oud belched. His Massood companion looked pained. "You are being taken to a Weave world for study. You confuse us. We are convinced that you are some type of mutant, though whether natural or induced it's premature to guess. That will be for the specialists to determine.

  "We tend to think that many of your Humanlike physical characteristics are the result of Amplitur interference, of an attempt on their part to develop more effective warriors. Bioengineering on a large scale is standard Amplitur modus. We know from Koba that you are not an isolated example and that there are others of your physical type."

  "I don't have any Human properties." Ranji controlled his anger. "I'm entirely Ashregan."

  "So you have repeatedly insisted." The S'van's eyes glittered. "I'm sure you're telling the truth as you believe it. The reality will eventually emerge only from unprejudiced analysis."

  The Massood's upper lip curled by way of emphasis. "Your type is taller, stronger, faster, and according to the reports more aggressive than the average Ashregan. In short, Humanlike. How the Amplitur have managed this we do not know, but they can pick apart DNA as easily as I would dismember a small food animal."

  "The Amplitur have done nothing to me. I am Ashregan and only Ashregan. Analyze all you wish. You'll find nothing to support your ridiculous suppositions."

  The S'van sighed as he flipped off his readout and rose. Clearly the interview was at an end. It was Ranji's turn to smile.

  "I'll be happy to talk with you whenever you like. There's always the chance of winning an enemy to the Purpose."

  The two xenologists departed. "We need much more in the way of in-depth study facilities," the S'van was saying as he exited Ranji's cubicle. "These cursory interviews do not-" the door slid silently shut behind them, cutting him off in mid-declaration.

  Shortly thereafter it reopened to admit a familiar bulbous, guileless face. A student of alien expression would have noted immediately that the smile with which Ranji greeted this new arrival was quite different from the one he had so recently bestowed on his interrogators.

  "Purposeful greetings to you, Itepu."

  "Warm water and light currents." The Lepar had acquired the habit of bringing Ranji's meals to him personally. It gave them more time to talk. Itepu enjoyed their conversations, so long as the Ashregan kept them simple. There was much to learn from him, and Itepu liked to learn.

  Ranji swung his legs off his bed and bent to inspect the meal. As usual, the foodstuffs were unfamiliar but edible. The ship's automatic providers knew what to prepare. The Weave had been taking its share of prisoners for hundreds of years. The workings of Ashregan physiology were neither mysterious nor complicated. The meals might not delight him, but they would keep him alive.

  His captors were treating him well, even to providing him with Ashregan eating utensils. He made use of them as the ever inscrutable Itepu looked on silently.

  Their deceptive friendliness did not fool him. Everything they did was for the sole aim of securing the cooperation of a valuable specimen, nothing more. If they harbored any illusions about turning him to their way of thinking they were in for an extended period of disappointment. He dug into the meal enthusiastically, knowing he would need his energy for the arguments to come. A prisoner he might be, but that did not mean he could no longer serve the Purpose.

  "How did the session go?" Itepu leaned back slightly, using his strong tail to balance himself.

  Ranji poked something pink and fleshy into his mouth. Useless to wonder about drugs. He had to eat and drink in order to survive, and if they wanted to medicate him they could do so at any time without having to resort to subterfuge.

  "I think they went away frustrated." He chewed as he spoke. "I also think they're a little afraid of me. That's good. They should be afraid of me." He picked up a lump of baked grains and glanced across at the Lepar. "You're afraid of me, too, aren't you?"

  "Of course I am. Like any civilized race we find the very notion of combat unsettling and those species who engage in it quite terrifying."

  Ranji tore a chunk off the brown loaf and waved it at his visitor. "But you're not as afraid of me as you would be of a Human."

  "The Humans are our allies. I am not afraid of Humans."

  Ranji swallowed. "In addition to fighting, I'm trained to observe. My interrogators learn from me, I learn from them. I think you're lying." Itepu said nothing.

  "My visitors keep telling me how many Human characteristics I have, how they've been 'bioengineered' into my friends and me by the Teachers to enable us to fight more like Humans. I see how they react when they speak of such things, and it doesn't matter whether they're S'van, Hivistahm, O'o'yan, or Massood. It's been very enlightening.

  "I know from my training and studies that Ashregan and Humans look a lot alike. It would be foolish of me to try and deny that I look more like Humans than most of my kind. But that doesn't make me Human, or mean that my genes have been tampered with. It means only that I'm a taller, stronger, more dangerous than usual Ashregan. I don't understand why your scientists keep trying to make something very simple into something much more complicated."

  "I would not know," replied Itepu quietly. "Such matters are beyond my comprehension."

  "Yes. The Lepar are a simple, straightforward people. That's why we don't understand why you cannot see the benefits of joining with the Purpose. Despite what is said for public consumption, you are looked down upon within the Weave. That would not be the case within the Purpose, where all species are treated as equals. You would be one with the Crigolit and the Ashregan and the Amplitur Teachers."

  "It is true that we are simple." Itepu spoke slowly and carefully. "But we are intelligent enough to be realists. No matter what you say, all species are not created equal. Since we realize and accept this, it does not trouble us. From that realization stems our contented independence, which we will never trade for some obscure alien ideal."

  Ranji sighed and pushed the remnants of his meal aside. "More skewed thinking. If we are allowed more time together, I hope to reveal the truth to you."

  Itepu gestured with one thick-fingered hand. "I am touched by your concern for my welfare."

  Stymied by his inability to convince, Ranji reached for the container of fortified liquid. The contents were pleasantly tart.

  "I like you, Itepu. I like you and your fellow Lepar a great deal. I think that in some ways you represent the best of the Weave, though you remain as misguided as any. There's an innocence about you, an honesty, that's absent from your sophisticated allies."

  "I like you, too, Ranji-aar. I am glad that I was permitted to accompany you. It must be a terrible thing to know that one is so far from one's companions, alone among aliens." A slight quiver ran through the amphibian, culminating in a sharp twitch of his tail. "I know that I could not long stand it."

  "That's because you're not a fighter. Don't condemn yourself for lack of abilities you were not born with. Each of us has a different role to play in this temporary existence."

  "In the current that meets itself." Tiny black eyes regarded him from the middle of an unintentionally comical face. "Are you so sure you know what your role is?"

  "No question about it." Ranji settled back on the bed. "To fight for the Purpose. To make my family and friends proud of me."

  "As I am sure they are." Itepu straightened, holding his tail off the floor. He smelled of the scummy water in which he and his companions spent their off-duty hours. "It must be a wonderful thing to be so certain of everything, to know always what to do, what is right and what is wrong. Sadly, the Lepar are a stupid folk. The
universe confuses us. We have difficulty choosing from among infinite possibilities. If only the cosmos were a simpler place. Then we could be more confident, more like the S'van, or the Ashregan, or the Aniplitur."

  "The Teachers?" Ranji blinked, surprised.

  "Yes. The Lepar think there is much to admire in the Amplitur. It is their attitude that troubles us. Their attitude, and their intentions."

  "It doesn't have to be like that," said Ranji earnestly. "You could change."

  Itepu touched a wall plate and the door slid aside. "I think we would rather see the Amplitur change." He paused in the gap.

  "I hope no harm will come to you, Ranji-aar of the Ashregan. I hope you will live out a long and contented life among your own kind. There is much about you that intrigues me. Much that I, simple representative of a simple people, can never hope to understand." The door closed behind him.

  7

  The authorities went to considerable trouble to keep his arrival a secret. He was the only passenger on the shuttle which transferred him from the Underspace transport to the surface of Yula. There he was promptly hustled into a small, self-powered air-repulsion vehicle. It was a lot like an attack floater save for civilian appointments such as darkened windows and comfortable seats.

  He and his escort sped through a city of modest size and alien architecture. Soon they were traveling through rolling green hills dotted with small agricultural establishments. Fields were lush with crops: green, yellow, brown, and purple. Clearly Yula was a comfortable, prosperous world. Civilized. Peaceful. Its young people did not run mazes or simulate warfare.

  Ranji felt sorry for them.

  The fluffy, fast-moving clouds scudding past overhead were painful reminders of home. A few raindrops hit the vehicle's shieldfield and evaporated. He wondered how his parents were doing, how long it would be before they learned of his disappearance in battle. He tried not to think of what their reaction would be. Saguio would handle it best of all, he thought. Cynsa was too young to understand. All of them would take comfort in the knowledge that he had sacrificed himself fully for the Purpose.

  Except that he had not sacrificed himself fully. He was still alive. As long as he could still think clearly he knew he would not willingly go on living just to satisfy the misguided curiosity of Weave scientists. He would find a way to resist, somehow. For the honor of his parents. For Kouuad, and for doomed Houcilat he was fated never to see.

  There might yet be opportunities to serve the Purpose.

  His captors were taking no chances. They had honored him with an escort of not one but two Humans-both males. A lone Wais driver sat in solitary splendor in the forward compartment, separated from the prisoner by a transparent shield. The two males flanked Ranji, their sullen, narrow faces focused straight ahead. If anything, they looked bored. Ranji was impressed, but far from awed.

  As evidence of the respect in which his captors held him, he was compelled to travel with his wrists securely bound behind his back. It was uncomfortable and he said so, but in this one regard, at least, his captors seemed prepared to act in an uncivilized manner.

  He used the travel time to study his escort. They were the first Humans he'd seen in the flesh whom he was not engaged in trying to kill. One was quite large, taller and more massive than himself. Its right ear was plugged with a tiny metallic button from which very faint musical sounds emerged. Whether that had anything to do with the way he moved in his seat, occasionally flicking his fingers against each other in the manner of a nervous Hivistahm, Ranji could not be sure. Certainly it was linked to the universal translator he also wore.

  The Human on his right looked no less competent for being smaller and slimmer. His skin was extremely dark, especially in contrast to that of his colleague. Ranji knew that color variance among the species could be extreme, whereas the Ashregan were all the same golden sepia hue. The man spent most of the time staring out the window at the rapidly changing countryside.

  They climbed into slightly more rugged terrain. Fields gave way to orchards and groves of wild trees. A range of snow-capped mountains materialized in the distance. So far he had seen more Yulans on the ship than on this world.

  No vehicles overtook them, nor did they pass any. Only a few shot past, traveling in the other direction. Perhaps they were traversing some kind of restricted route, Ranji mused.

  Since everyone had been equipped with translators, he found himself wondering at the presence of the Wais. Not that their contribution to the Weave was restricted to translating. They could do other things almost as well. But he would have expected a Yula or O'o'yan driver. Possibly the ornate ornithorp was also a scientist, assigned to observe the specimen as it was conveyed to its eventual destination. He amused himself with the knowledge that the Wais probably found traveling in the company of two armed Humans far more unsettling than he did.

  The very image of isolated elegance, it never once turned to look back at its fellow passengers. Ranji considered lurching forward should it do so, bulging his eyes and baring his teeth. Very likely it would keel over in a dead faint.

  As for trying to imbue the Humans with knowledge of the Purpose, he knew instinctively that would be a waste of time. Uncivilized and barbaric as they were, it wouldn't be surprising for them to react with violence to an attempt at simple conversation. So he sat quietly, held his peace, and studied the world outside.

  They began to slow, and he leaned forward slightly for a better look. Some kind of attenuated freight transport was traveling north-to-south perpendicular to their path, forcing their pilot to come to a complete halt while they waited for the longer, slower machine to pass. The dark-hued Human shifted irritably in his seat, a disgusted expression on his face. His larger companion continued to twitch to the strains of unheard music. Beneath them, the vehicle's repulsion unit idled softly.

  Ranji erupted from his seat, spinning to his right, the fingers of his left hand striking the door-release mechanism in the combination he'd memorized when he'd first been shoved into the vehicle. As he landed hard on the darker Human's lap he brought both legs up and over to grip him tightly around the neck. Twisting, he used powerful calf and thigh muscles to thrust his captor's upper body explosively forward. The man's skull slammed into the transparent barrier that separated the front and rear compartments. Blood splattered as Ranji released the dazed guard and tumbled out backward through the open door.

  "Get him!" the injured man moaned as Ranji felt the bigger Human's fingers fumbling at his ankles.

  Instead of dashing for the nearest trees, Ranji spun and kicked the startled smaller man directly beneath his chin. Weapon half-drawn, he collapsed in the doorway, effectively blocking his larger companion from pursuing. The big Human blurted a stentorian oath and turned to the door on his side of the vehicle, ripping the music device from his ear and fumbling for his gun. Clearly the prisoner was either going to sprint into the nearby orchard or else stand and try to fight with his feet as he'd just demonstrated he was quite capable of doing.

  Instead, as soon as the big man emerged and started to come around the rear of the vehicle toward him, Ranji jumped back in. Kicking the dark Human out, Ranji deftly manipulated the door controls with the toe of his boot, shutting and locking first one door and then the other. He was now alone in the secured rear compartment with the deceived guard gesticulating angrily through the window.

  Furious, the Human rushed to the front of the vehicle and yelled at the Wais to open one of the front doors. Unfortunately for him, the sudden outburst of raw violence had shocked the omithorp into a quasicataleptic state. It sat staring straight ahead, feathers quivering, utterly unresponsive. The more the Human ranted and raved, the deeper its paralysis became. Just as Ranji had hoped.

  He could not count on the condition persisting, however. Hands still bound behind him, he began hunting for a way of accessing the driver's compartment. His obvious intent only added to the Wais's terror.

  His search revealed a small compartment b
uilt into the back of the front section. It contained small, finely machined instruments of alien design and unknown purpose. There were also a number of thin transparent cards on whose surface fine etching was visible.

  The excluded Human continued to pound on the window while bellowing untranslatable imprecations.

  Ranji turned and carefully removed the cards from the shallow compartment. His back to the barrier, he tried one after another in the slot obviously designed to receive them, hoping one would lower the transparency that separated him from the driver's section. A soft beep accompanied each insertion, but the barrier did not fall.

  The slick plastic band that tightly encircled his wrists, however, metamorphosed into a handful of foam beads.

  Relieved and surprised to have regained the use of his hands, he ignored the rampaging Human as he tried the rest of the cards. The last in the pile turned out to be the one he was searching for.

  The barrier vanished into the floor. In no particular hurry, Ranji pocketed the card as he climbed into the empty seat next to the Wais. It continued to stare straight ahead, resolutely ignoring him. The big Human was now frantic.

  From the moment he'd been placed inside, Ranji had taken careful note of how the Wais operated the vehicle. After re-raising the barrier, he removed the control disk from the ornithorp's paralyzed fingers, pulling it across on its flexible stalk until it was in front of his seat. The disk was cleverly designed to accommodate a variety of manipulative digits.

  The lengthy freight vehicle which had instigated their delay had long since vanished southward. Experimentally resting his palm atop the unit, Ranji moved one finger slightly, as he'd seen the Wais do. The floater drifted forward, the agitated Human having to run to keep up as he pounded on the glass. Once he aimed his weapon through the transparency, but Ranji didn't flinch. He was relying on his importance as a specimen to preserve him from hostile fire.