The Candle of Distant Earth

by Alan Dean Foster

  His muzzle stained dark blue, George looked up from his bowl and burped reflectively. “Not bad, snake-arms. In fact, everything here has been good.”

  Braouk’s fur-quills stiffened slightly with pride. “Everything you are eating is of local manufacture. Fresh food of the northern plains is the best on all Tuuqalia, and that of my family famed as among the finest. It is a shame you will not be able to enjoy it any longer.”

  Frowning, Walker let his stained fingers drop to rest on the edge of the bowl. “I don’t follow you. Is something wrong?”

  Flexible, muscular eyestalks brought both eyes so close to him that he could see little else. “On the contrary, everything is very right, for you.”

  From the curving tabletop above, Sque withdrew from her contemplation of distant automatonic machinery to focus on their host. “You have news.” Bubbles of excitement burbled from her speaking tube. “Sobj-oes and the astronomics team have found something.”

  Setting aside the bowl, Walker rose and wiped his mouth with the back of a sleeve. “They’ve got a direction! They’ve plotted a way for us to get home!”

  Braouk gestured encouragingly. “I am led, to understand that is, the case. That by working together with the scientific opposite number among my people, our Niyyuuan and Iollth friends have managed to divine a Tuuqalia-K’erem vector.” Both eyes retracted. “I insisted on bringing you this wonderful news myself.”

  On the table, every one of Sque’s limbs had contracted up against her body. “I am swollen with excitement. Given the inadequacies of those with whom I had to work, this is a moment I was not sure I would live long enough to see.”

  “And Earth?” Walker asked eagerly. Sitting attentively by his feet, George was wagging his tail rapidly enough to generate a small breeze.

  Both of Braouk’s eyes curved around to focus on him once again. Some of the initial keenness had faded from the Tuuqalian’s voice. “They have what they believe to be a Tuuqalia-K’erem vector.”

  The kindly Braouk’s lack of a direct response spoke volumes. Walker slumped. The energetic back and forth flailing of the dog’s tail slowed. The Tuuqalian did not have to say anything else.

  Everything of significance was contained in what he did not say.

  Returning to their quarters in the company of their companion and guide, they gathered together their few personal belongings prior to departing the northern plains. Walker tried to put a brave face on Braouk’s revelation.

  “I guess it would’ve been too much to expect that your people would know where Earth was. We’re still isolated, somewhere out on the galactic fringes. It’s tough for travelers to find you when you’re isolated and alone.”

  “I think the lyric you’re looking for is ‘Don’t get around much,’” George chimed in. His gaze drifted to Sque, who in her usual fashion was already several steps ahead of them and ready to depart. “I can’t see the future.” He snorted. “Usually, I can’t see beyond the next bone. But one thing I do know: no matter how this ends, I don’t see myself spending the rest of my life on K’erem. It’s hard enough being around one K’eremu. I can’t imagine what living with a whole planetful of them would be like.”

  “‘Maddening’ is the word I think you’re looking for,” Walker replied understandingly. Though she plainly heard everything that was being said, Sque took no offense at the comments and offered no riposte. She was as used to their sarcasm and occasional jibes as they were to hers. For a K’eremu, it was all part and parcel of a normal conversation.

  “You are always, welcome among my family, any time.” Discerning the discouragement he knew would greet the deficiencies in his announcement, Braouk did his best to raise the spirits of his two friends. “Or you may choose to return with your friends the Niyyuu to their world, or even all the way back to distant Seremathenn, of which we recall so many good things.”

  All the way back, Walker ruminated. After everything they had undergone, it was a discouraging possibility to have to contemplate. A touch made him turn. Sque had come up silently behind him. She was chewing her morning treat of synthesized joqil, one of the two drugs (herbs, Walker dutifully corrected himself) she needed. Evening time would see her luxuriating in a dose of its complement, the pungent and perversely tempting si’dana. Reluctantly, she had once let the curious human taste the latter. To her disgust, he’d quickly spat it out. The powerful alkaloid tasted like powdered sulfur.

  “Do not give up hope, Marcus Walker. How many times these past years would it have been all too easy to do so? I admit to having suffered from intermittent discouragement myself. Who would have not, given the odds arrayed against us?” A triplet of tentacles rose and gestured for emphasis. “Yet here we are on bland, bucolic Tuuqalia, having returned friend Braouk to his homeworld. Now it seems that it may be possible for I to do the same.” Three more slender, whip-like appendages wrapped encouragingly around his waist.

  “By what we have accomplished we have already several times rendered impotent the word ‘impossible.’ Half of us are to be returned home. I promise, that when we reach K’erem, I will intercede with the relevant authorities on your behalf.” The tentacles that had slid consolingly around his waist now withdrew. One arced down to pet George gently on the back of his head, mimicking the gesture she had so often seen Walker perform. The dog flinched, but did not retreat. A pet was a pet.

  “Your people have never heard of Earth,” a dejected Walker muttered. “We haven’t found a single space-traversing species that has.”

  “Just so,” she hissed softly through her speaking tube. “But if the Niyyuu can find Hyff, and Niyyuu and Hyfft working together can succeed in locating Tuuqalia, then who is to say what the K’eremu can and cannot find? Would you put the deductive capabilities of all those species up against that of the K’eremu?”

  Aware that Braouk was standing right there with them, Walker composed his reply carefully. “I certainly would not be the one to cast doubt on the scientific capabilities of the K’eremu.”

  “A proper response,” she replied in her whispery voice. “My people have achieved many wonderful things. Even finding a primitive, out-of-the-way, backward world such as your own is not necessarily beyond them. I do admit the fact that no one has ever heard of it or visited it tends to complicate the matter, but where my people are concerned, there are no absolutes. Presently, I envision only one problem.”

  “Why doesn’t that overwhelm me with optimism?” George growled softly.

  “Finding your world will doubtless require cooperation among the most eminent researchers in several fields,” she explained. “As you know, the K’eremu relish their individual solitude. Persuading the germane scientists to work together to try and locate your Earth may prove more difficult than actually doing so.” She swelled slightly, increasing her height another centimeter or two. “But as you know, I am not without persuasive skills myself. As a measure of our friendship, I shall exert myself to the utmost on your behalf.”

  “Thanks, Sque.” Walker smiled down at her. “I’m really happy for you, that you’re going home. Once we get there, we’ll be glad of any help you can give us. We’re glad of any help anyone can give us.”

  “Excellent it is, to hear that said, by you.” Looming behind the three of them, Braouk raised all four upper tentacles in a gesture Walker thought he recognized. It seemed inappropriate at that moment, until the Tuuqalian continued. “Because I will still be able to render what aid I can, since I will be accompanying you.”

  Turning, Walker gaped at the multi-limbed giant. “What? But you’re home now, Braouk. You’re back among your own kind.” Raising an arm, he gestured toward the far wall and the distant fertile fields beyond. “Back with your family. Back where you wanted to be.” He shook his head wonderingly. “Why would you want to leave all this? George and I aren’t asking it of you. We wouldn’t expect it of you. We wouldn’t expect it of anyone.”

  “Hell, no,” George agreed readily. “I’m not ashamed to sa
y that if our situation was reversed, I’d be staying home in Chicago and waving you a fond farewell. Shoot, I’d settle for staying anywhere on Earth.” He thought a moment, added, “Well, maybe not Korea. Or Vietnam. But pretty much anywhere else.”

  “This I do, as much for myself, as you,” Braouk informed them solemnly. Walker had shared the giant’s company long enough to recognize and interpret certain movements, gestures, and inflections. What he was sensing now, more than anything else, was embarrassment. “I am afraid,” Braouk continued, “that I have not been completely forthcoming with you.”

  Frowning, George trotted up to the base of the Tuuqalian. Though the dog was not much bigger than one of Braouk’s eyes, he showed no fear. “That sounds suspiciously like you’ve been hiding something from us.”

  Tentacles thick as tree roots swayed a bit aimlessly. “All Tuuqalians dream, of composing a saga, vastly beautiful. But in a mature society such as ours has become, inspiration is often lacking.” One eye dipped down to regard the dog while the other gazed at Walker and Sque. “It is said that out of bad things there oftentimes emerges some good. If you had asked it of me when I was a frustrated, introverted prisoner on board the ship of the Vilenjji, I would have replied that such a statement was not only untruthful but heartless.” Now all four upper limbs stretched wide to encompass them all.

  “But our travels, and the comradeship that has developed between us, has proven the wrongness of that notion and the truth of the ancient adage. From our experiences I have derived much material for, and have been quietly working on, linking together the stanzas and strains of a grand saga that I believe will go down among my kind as one of the better of its recent type. But in order for that to be true, it must have closure. There must be a conclusion that provides sufficient justification for all that has gone before. I thought my returning home would provide that. But since I have been here, I feel it is not so.

  “The conclusion to the saga can come only when all of us, when all of you, have also been returned to your homes. That will be my coda. A half-completed saga is no saga worth spinning at all. As for the fulfillment of my personal desires, now that the location of Tuuqalia is known to the ships of the Niyyuu and the Iollth, there will be no problem returning me home. It will always be here for me to enjoy. Whereas true inspiration comes but rarely.” The massive torso inclined toward George, teeth like serrated spades locking and unlocking with an audible clicking sound as their owner spoke.

  “I hope you will all forgive me this small deception.”

  With a dismissive grunt, George turned tail on the Tuuqalian. “Why didn’t you just tell us that’s how you feel? It’s no big deal.”

  “If you had known what I was about,” Braouk responded, “it might have altered your behavior. To serve as the basis for such an extended composition, the actions described therein must be entirely natural.”

  Initially tense, Walker’s expression melted into a slight grin. “So that’s it. ‘Smile—you’re on candid saga.’ It’s all right, Braouk. You can compose about me all you want. I’m just glad we’ll be having you along for the rest of the ride.”

  Stepping forward, he extended a hand. One flexible tentacle tip wrapped around his fingers in the human gesture of friendship Braouk had mastered early in their relationship. There was a time when it would have concerned Walker that the appendage grasping his hand could have effortlessly ripped his arm from its socket. No longer. Braouk might have the look of a nightmare, but he had the heart of a poet.

  “Would you like to hear the first quotidian stanzas?” his friend asked eagerly.

  Withdrawing his hand, Walker hastily composed a reply of his own. “Still some preparation, we have to do, before leaving. Surely you have arrangements to make, things to see to, as well?”

  “Some few,” the Tuuqalian admitted. “Also, measures must be finalized for the others who will be accompanying us. It is important, that everything be coordinated, for travel.”

  That brought Walker up short. “‘Others’?”

  Braouk executed the equivalent of a Tuuqalian shrug. “Though your visit has been confined to the territory of my family, the notoriety of your experiences has been widely disseminated and appreciated. I am not the only one who finds inspiration in our history together. Others wish to experience something of it as well and, if possible, gain stimulation from the unique circumstances of our continuing encounter. Also, the government of the conjoined extended families of Tuuqalia is always grateful when one of its citizens is preserved from harm, and now wishes to express its gratitude in tangible terms.

  “From both a need to acquire fresh artistic inspiration and a desire to reward you for helping in my salvation, the government has decided to provide four ships to escort and assist you all the rest of the way back to your homeworlds.” He straightened proudly. “As you may have observed, Tuuqalians do many things by fours.” Again, a single tentacle reached out, to rest its flexible end on Walker’s shoulder.

  “To avoid confusion and conflict, the four vessels and their crews will participate in and agree to the existing command arrangement. I have spoken with the relevant authorities and explained the particulars to them. The response was amenable. They foresee no difficulty placing the ships under your nominal command.”

  Walker swallowed. This was getting out of hand. All he had hoped for, when leaving Seremathenn for Niyu, was to find one ship crewed by one sentient species that might be willing to help him and George, Sque and Braouk, find their respective ways home. Now, like some rolling galactic stone, they had gathered to them a very impressive cluster of twelve starships. With him as the ostensible head of operations. He might in truth be little more than a facilitating figurehead, but even that responsibility was growing daunting.

  “That’s very kind of the extended families.” More than a little overwhelmed, it was all he could think of to say.

  George was more openly delighted. “One Tuuqalian ship would be enough to scare off any troublemakers. Four of them should be enough to scare anybody. And if that doesn’t work, we can always sic the Iollth and the Niyyuu on anything that happens to get in our way. They’d both enjoy the digression.”

  “We’re not siccing anybody on anybody,” Walker warned the dog sternly. “This is and will stay a peaceful expedition, no matter how many decide to join in.”

  “As a show of force,” Sque opined from behind them, “the number and diversity of vessels that will now be traveling with us should be more than adequate to stop any confrontation aborning. Even a K’eremu will acknowledge that an overwhelming display of strength is sometimes an adequate substitute for lack of intelligence.”

  There was no impressive ceremony of departure. For all their individual size and strength, and for all the accomplishments of their advanced society, the Tuuqalians were a modest folk. Accompanied by a Braouk reenergized by his return to his homeworld, the travelers were farewelled simply and efficiently and waved on their way. All of it recorded for posterity and with suitably breathless commentary by the ever effervescent representatives of the Niyyuu media, of course.

  But there was nothing modest about the four vessels that had moved into orbit proximate to those of the Niyyuu and the Iollth. Even the combative Iollth were impressed, if not actually awed. Each of the arriving Tuuqalian craft was larger than any several Niyyuuan or Iollth ships combined.

  Perhaps it was inevitable that a certain tension ensued. It did not last long, as representatives of both of the travelers’ allies were immediately invited to tour the newest additions to the expedition. The blocky, multi-cube component designs of the Tuuqalian craft reflected the needs of their oversized crews rather than any military excess. Noting this, Iollth and Niyyuu alike were quickly able to relax and enjoy the educational visits. In turn, crew from the Tuuqalian quartet were invited to visit their counterparts. While this was manageable on the larger Niyyuuan craft, including the Jhevn-Bha, all visits to the five Iollth ships had to be conducted virtually, sinc
e none featured internal corridors expansive enough to allow the passage of even a small Tuuqalian.

  The exchange of visits and information was followed by a small designated chorus of composers on board the Tuuqalian vessels who commenced creating a special saga to commemorate the unusual coming together. By the end of the first day of continuous and unrelenting recitation, Iollth and Niyyuu alike were more than ready to begin the next stage of the journey.

  Navigators provided the necessary equations to ensure that the ships from three different worlds maintained constant speed and contact during the crossing from Tuuqalia to K’erem. When these were executed, the consequences would have been an impressive sight to observe from any other vessel in orbit. Twelve ships featuring the most advanced engineering skills of three different sentient species, all departing simultaneously from the vicinity of Tuuqalia. There would be no noise, of course, but Walker was informed that the synchronized ignition of a dozen interstellar drives should be bright enough to be visible from Tuuqalia’s surface.

  He was not in a position to witness it, choosing to while away the time in his living quarters on board the Jhevn-Bha until the galactic flotilla was well under way. Though soon cleared to move about, he found that he had no urge to do so. Far more sensitive to his companion’s frame of mind than anyone else, George leaped up onto Walker’s makeshift bed and settled himself down beside his friend.

  “Okay—now what’s wrong?” One paw rubbed down an ear. “I swear, it’s always been a wonder to me that the whole human species hasn’t died out from a surfeit of excessive moodiness.”

  Walker had to smile. Reaching down, he ruffled the fur on the back of George’s neck. In response, the dog rolled over onto his back and presented for attention his far less hirsute belly. Without thinking, Walker obliged, staring at the blank, pale beige ceiling as he caressed the dog’s underside. On the far side of the living quarters the Niyyuu had modified to suit the needs of their singular guests, Sque lay flattened out in her makeshift artificial pond with only her head and upper body visible above the dark, brine-infused water.