Valence (Confluence Book 4)

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  Alan looked down at the ship again. “Well, fuck.”

  Jane said, “Gili told me that people come here to study, leave with samples and everything, but have no luck growing a specimen of Existence when they return to their home planets. It seemed like he was telling me that the Tree just won’t do these things without pligans themselves working on the actual experiments. They seem to be part of the equation.”

  “You think it’s more than just pure science? You think they’re physically the only ones who can do it? That seems…absurd…” Alan said, but he faltered near the end of the statement. Even as he said it, he was already beginning to have doubts.

  Schlewan said, “I would have said so myself, but the evidence seems to point to that being the case. We need to keep gathering data.”

  “Perhaps they are true symbionts. Maybe they make something the Tree needs to survive. If that substance, or substances, could be synthesized…” Ajaya mused.

  Jane sighed. “Even if substances like that exist and are part of the equation, the pligans may not even know what they are. They seemed amused that no one else could replicate their results.”

  Alan huffed. “Maybe they know and they just think it’s funny to let other people try and fail.”

  “And we’re forgetting, forgetting, forgetting altogether the ethics of even wanting to learn how they do it,” Schlewan said.

  “What ethics? It’s science. Science is for anyone who wants to learn it,” Alan interjected.

  “Is it?” Schlewan fixed her matronly gaze on him. “If it’s biological, it may be proprietary. What if they own these formulas because, as Doctor Varma hypothesizes, they’ve created them with their bodies, with what makes them pligan? So far, they’ve been happy to show us everything they make, but have they ever shown us how anything is truly manufactured here? We see results. They may not want to share the process, and I don’t think we have the right to ask. Sectilius has learned many lessons in the past about taking science too far. Our current crisis stems from the use of squillae against us in ways that are directly related to just this kind of hubris.”

  Alan scowled. “You’re being a little melodramatic, I think.”

  “What if the only way to save Sectilius involved removing a vital organ from you, Doctor Bergen. One that only you alone in the entire universe could grow? Would you be happy to give up your liver to me for science so that Sectilius could survive?”

  “I’m not talking about hurting anyone!”

  Jane grabbed his arm and gave him that look, the one that said he should calm down or at least quiet down a little. He took a deep breath and counted to about seven. More calmly, he said, “I would never advocate hurting anyone in the name of science.”

  Schlewan lifted her gaze and looked away from him. “I heard you state once that the needs of many outweigh the needs of few or one.”

  His mouth fell open and his mind raced, trying to parse the translation to understand what she was saying…then he remembered. “That was a joke. A quote from a—oh, Jesus fucking Christ.” What good would it do to explain that it was a film quote when sectilians didn’t have films or television or even plays for fuck’s sake? Sectilians really didn’t understand human humor at all. They were far too literal.

  Jane said, “I’m sure that’s just a misunderstanding. Joking is a cultural thing we must be careful of. No one is going to hurt anyone. We aren’t taking anything from Pliga that isn’t freely given. Even now, I’m struggling to find some way to compensate the pligans for all the work they’ve done on our ship.”

  “Have they requested anything specific?” Ajaya asked.

  “No. But we can’t just take off without giving them something in return.”

  Ajaya seemed thoughtful. “If I may make a suggestion? They are interested in genetic diversity. We could give them plant samples from the Greenspace Deck to study.”

  Jane nodded. “That’s a start. Yes. I like that idea.”

  “That’s a little like giving Albert Einstein crayons to write his equations, don’t you think?” he asked.

  Ajaya rolled her eyes.

  Jane gave him another one of her looks.

  He rolled his eyes right back. “Fine. I’m sorry. That was rude. Even I know that. I don’t know what to give them either. Maybe they don’t expect anything in return.”

  Bleh. That didn’t hurt to say. Much. Being nice was such a pain in the ass.

  “I honestly don’t think they do,” Jane said. “I think they’re helping us because they’re kind people.”

  “Like sectilians, they seem to be a cooperative people,” Schlewan stated with what seemed a lot like pride.

  Well, la-dee-dah.

  They reached the end of the skywalk. Gili stood outside, motioning with his hands. “So slow! Going in, now! Going inside!”

  The hatch was open and they ducked inside at the end of the group. As people moved out of his way, deeper into the ship, Alan goggled. He swung around, looking in every direction. Could it be—was he really seeing what he thought he was seeing?

  It was an organic ship.

  It had been grown.

  The exterior he’d seen from a distance had made him think that it was just hull plating like they were putting on the Speroancora, but this was something altogether different. He walked to one of the interior structural beams. Bark. There was bark. It looked like a branch. Most of the interior walls were transparent, similar to the ones in the tree houses above. The flooring was somewhat transparent, but there were ropelike branches or maybe roots extending all over the place, like conduits. Overhead and encasing the entire ship, he suspected, were not plates like they’d made for their ship, but modified leaves.

  Holy hell.

  He glanced at Jane. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open just like everyone else’s. “Is this decorative or part of the structure?” she asked Gili as she placed her hand on the black, corky bark.

  “It is Existence,” said a deep, gruff voice from behind them.

  “Huna! Welcome. I am showing the Others Escaping. Jane has been asking about you. She will be happy to be meeting you,” Gili said.

  Jane turned and smiled genuinely. “Huna, it is my pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”

  Huna’s throat fluttered. “Gili and Bigu and many others have spoken of all of you often. I wanted to meet you for myself. I heard you were coming here so I decided I would come as well. I often come here.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Jane replied. “This is truly a miracle to us. This ship, I mean. I wonder if you realize how unusual it is. We’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Gili and Bigu chirped quietly.

  Huna looked around at the interior of the ship. “Ships like these have served our people many times, rescued us from extinction many times, before we developed the trait for Hiding.”

  Jaross moved forward. “This isn’t your original home world, your origin?”

  “Oh, no,” Huna answered. “Our people are ancient. We have changed ourselves generation by generation many, many times and have been forced to populate new worlds seven times. This is our eighth world.”

  Ajaya put her hand to the nearest wall, almost like she expected it to have a pulse. “But how did this connection to Existence begin? Do you know anything about the earliest origins of your symbiotic relationship?”

  Huna shifted his weight. “A simple matter of mutual need. Our primitive ancestors needed shelter from predators and violent weather. Existence naturally formed extensive surface roots that provided that refuge. Both populations benefited from this. The trees received nourishment from my ancestors’ excreta, and those who lived around the trees were more likely to survive. As the contact between them grew, each species changed to accommodate the other.

  “Existence began to form cavities that provided better shelter. The first instance of this was nothing more than a fluke mutation that conferred a benefit. My ancestors began to climb Existence, and m
ore of these individuals survived to produce offspring. The trees that formed more cavities within themselves, especially at great heights, held larger populations of these proto-pligans and could grow stronger. They became favored by our archaic progenitors, who spent less and less time on the ground. The surfaces of the cavities—and, eventually, chambers—became more and more versatile. The bark of the trees thinned in these areas, becoming almost rootlike, to allow absorption of waste materials and sometimes exude sap. Our ancestors began to feed on the sap. Soon it was their sole dietary resource. They flourished. They became more intelligent. This process continued, each species refining the other, improving their odds of survival, until the proto-pligans began to have the intellectual ability to intentionally manipulate Existence.”

  Ajaya looked thoughtful, her hand still on the wall as she listened. “But not genetically?”

  Huna leaned forward on his haunches slightly. “No, not yet. That took a great deal more time. And it wasn’t until the earliest pligan people knew the Cunabula that structures like these began to be possible.”

  “From there to here,” Ajaya breathed, looking around the space in wonder. “What an amazing journey.”

  “Knew the Cunabula? Like, personally? In person, knew them?” Alan asked.

  Huna’s eyes fixed on him and blinked slowly. “Pligans were among their first genetic experiments. When we became sentient, we became their students. They taught us much. You, terran, were among their final experiments.”

  Alan blew out a long breath. “Yeah. So we’ve heard.”

  “We have much to learn from each other,” Huna said.

  Bigu shuffled over closer to Huna, warbling a little. “Huna, curiosity, always expresses so much. Reading, his pastime, is. Reading, learning, and much experimenting. Us, his work, benefits—more than any other living individual among us.”

  Huna looked down, his semitransparent lower eyelids partly covering his enormous eyes. Alan got the distinct impression that he was uncomfortable with the praise. He’d never seen that from a pligan before. They seemed to flutter their throats or chirp when anyone said anything flattering. Even he knew that. Something was off.

  “What is feeling wrong, Huna?” Gili asked.

  Huna was slow to reply. “I have passed on my genes. There are many youth expressing similar traits to myself. I have, in effect, replaced myself. I have done my duty here. I understand why I could not be allowed to take an Escaping to leave this place, but now there is a new opportunity. I wish to ask Jane for a place on her ship. I hope that I am qualified to serve.”

  “That is not being our way,” Gili croaked.

  “It is my way,” Huna stated. “This is not an optimal life for me.”

  Bigu and Gili looked stricken.

  Bigu shuffled for the exit in a disjointed fashion that Alan couldn’t help but interpret as laden with all kinds of emotion. “We, of this, will speak at length. I, rest, must leave to find… elsewhere.”

  Gili just stood there staring at Huna. His mouth kept opening for a few seconds and then closing again. “I am not knowing… I am not knowing… Huna. Huna. How can this be you speaking?” Then Gili plodded off in much the same manner as Bigu.

  The Speroancora crew was left looking uncomfortably at each other, while Huna continued to stare at the floor with his eyes partly closed.

  Good grief. They couldn’t just look at the freaking amazing ship in peace. They had to be subjected to a pligan soap opera too.

  10

  October 13, 2017

  THE CITY BUS system was harder to navigate on her own than she’d anticipated. Usually she just followed her parents and didn’t pay any attention to maps or stops or where things were in the city.

  She picked up a tattered pamphlet from a covered bus stop that showed all the routes and kept moving as she glanced at it. It was color-coded. To stay under anyone’s radar, she slipped into a fast-food restaurant and zipped straight to the bathroom. She went into the largest stall and closed the door. Grimacing, she perched on the edge of the toilet seat and balanced the laptop on her knees as it connected to Wi-Fi. It was gross, but necessary.

  Public computer terminals were available at all of the branches of the city library. She knew that much. She would pick one that was relatively far away and take a bus to it. It took a while to figure out how that would work.

  People came in and out of the restroom. The hand dryers roared to life regularly. She barely noticed.

  By midmorning she had a plan. Everything hinged on her not getting noticed. She had to act like she had a purpose and knew what she was doing. If she looked lost or scared, she’d stand out. She had to blend in.

  She left the stall under the baleful glare of a grandmotherly customer. That scared her. What if that lady called the police?

  She hurried to a bus stop and waited, her anxiety barely under control. For the first time she realized she no longer had the mocha and couldn’t remember where she’d left it. It might still be in the coffee shop or maybe on the sink in the fast-food restaurant’s bathroom.

  The first bus to pull up declared it went DOWNTOWN on its front screen. She used her student ID to pay because she didn’t have any cash. There wasn’t any other choice.

  There weren’t many people on the bus. She sat quietly and didn’t make eye contact with anyone. When they got downtown, she went into the terminal and bought a day pass. The clerk looked bored and disinterested. That was good.

  Buses were lined up to go all over town. Her heart hammered in her throat as she saw several come and go while she tried to figure out which one was the right route.

  Finally she saw the one for Hilliard, a neighborhood across town with a library branch. She got on and held up the day pass. The bus driver was distracted and didn’t notice her. She stood there, unsure what she was supposed to do.

  Someone behind her grabbed her arm, turned it palm up, and shoved her hand under the scanner. The pass had a bar code on the back. She hadn’t noticed that.

  The person behind her scanned their own card while she stared at the pass dumbly, and then they shoved past her. She swallowed and moved to the back of the bus near the rear door. The vehicle lurched as she slid the pack off her back. She stumbled into a seat and wrapped her arms around the pack, tucking her fingers in so that they wouldn’t tremble.

  The scenery changed quickly to a part of town she didn’t know. What if it was a dangerous part of town? How would she know if it was? Tears pricked her eyes. She sniffed and turned her body toward the window, blinking.

  She didn’t realize he was talking to her at first. A big guy with a big, friendly smile. Perfect teeth. She noticed the perfect teeth. “Hey, why aren’t you in school today, little lady?”

  A retort spilled out of her mouth. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  Her brain went blank for a second as she processed what she’d just said.

  That was so rude! She was going to get herself in trouble! How was she going to accomplish her goal if she did stupid things?

  He chuckled. “Touché. Touché.” But he still looked at her with a cocked brow, expectantly. No one else seemed interested in their conversation. “It’s my day off. What’s your excuse?”

  She lifted her chin. “Parent-teacher conference day. I’m going to the library to work on a project due next week about Jane Holloway.” The lie rolled so easily off her tongue. She was kinda in awe of herself. She hadn’t known she could do that.

  She was doing all kinds of things she hadn’t known she could do.

  He nodded, his bottom lip pushing up in the sort of frown that indicated he was impressed with her answer. “You like her? Wanna be like her? She all that?”

  She nodded once.

  “A worthy goal, little sister. The world is changing ’cause of her. You can change it too, you know.”

  She shrugged, because she didn’t know how to reply to that. Admitting you liked Jane Holloway could be unpopular, but this guy got it. He believed in Jane too
, or pretended to.

  Inside, she squirmed. He couldn’t know what she was doing. There was no way.

  A wave of cold swept up and down her body. Her fingertips tingled. There was a weird taste on her tongue.

  What if he worked for NASA, and they were already out looking for her?

  She took in a shaky breath and glanced at him again. He might. He had that sort of clean-cut look that her dad’s coworkers had, But there weren’t many brothers working there, and he didn’t seem…well, very nerdy. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything. People presented themselves all sorts of ways. You couldn’t always tell much about a person by how they looked.

  His skeptical look was back. “Thought you were heading to the library?”

  She jerked her head to look out the window as the bus passed a modern brick building with lots of glass and weird angles that didn’t really fit in with its neighbors. It was the Hilliard branch of the city’s library system. She tried to stand up to reach the button to tell the driver to stop, but her backpack prevented her from coming fully upright, and she sprawled back onto the seat as the bus bucked under her. She shoved the pack aside, but the guy she’d been talking to calmly said, “I got you.” He was pressing the button. The bus came to a stop at the next corner and the rear door opened. She scrambled for it awkwardly. Why couldn’t she just be cool?

  Just before the bus’s door closed, she heard the guy shout, “Have a good time with the books!” Then the bus disappeared around a corner.

  She forced herself to take deep breaths and walk toward the entrance.

  It was a small branch, but there were stacks of books on either side of the door, so she strolled behind them. A furtive glance toward the circulation desk revealed busy librarians who were not looking her way. She walked around the perimeter until she came to an open lounging area. No computers on this side of the building.

  Someone was dozing on a sofa with a stack of books on a coffee table in front of them. They were wearing a coat, plus a hat and gloves. A little overdressed for the weather.