Eventually the captain issued additional commands. Far out in front of the ship a deep purple glow appeared, the visual manifestation of the immensely concentrated artificial gravity field generated by the ship's projectors.
The Seeker leaped outward. As it did so it pushed the growing field, which pulled the ship, which pushed the field. Acceleration was rapid. There was a moment of nausea and utter disorientation. The field and the ship within passed the speed of light and entered the abstract universe known as Space Plus. Stars went wavy and streaked around the ship.
Everyone was about to relax when Bonnie's screens displayed three new marks, behind and to one side of the Seeker's course through Space Plus.
The Seeker's computer went to work. Bonnie studied the resultant readout, but did not try to conceal a sigh of relief. "Not a chance of intercept not unless they're a lot faster than we are. Of course, they could track us all the way back to Centaurus, but I don't think they'll risk that."
Still, one of the pursuing vessels continued to follow as, its companions dropped from the screens.
"Maybe they think they're faster than we are."
Bonnie shook her head. "If anything, the reverse is true unless they've tried to fool us into thinking that."
"Anderson, you're a detection specialist, not a psychologist," Taourit observed.
"We all have our hobbies."
The computer interrupted to announce the result of studies begun when they'd reentered the ship. It declared that the air was breathable, gravity was operational, and in general all was right within the enclosed metal globe that was the Seeker.
The single light on Bonnie's console continued to hold position as if its crew was determined to follow all the way across the galaxy, if need be. Twice it dropped from the screen, only to crawl slowly back into view. Once it made up some distance on its quarry.
"What do you make of that?" Sanchez asked the cocontroller.
Taourit studied the monitors and readouts, punched a query into the computer, and received fresh information.
"They're fiddling with their drive. Probably pushing it to the limit." He looked over at her. "It would be detrimental to future relations if this bunch were to blow themselves up trying to catch us."
"We can't be held responsible for that," the captain replied calmly. "We made no hostile gestures toward them and they still kept us prisoners would have kept us permanently if we hadn't escaped, according to this Ryo individual."
"Yes. According to it," agreed Taourit.
"It's a him," Bonnie reminded them.
They both turned to glance at her, then resumed their conversation. "According to him, and exactly who is `him'? Could he be a cleverly planted spy?" the cocontroller wondered.
"I don't think so," Sanchez said. "Our escape clearly was not engineered by them."
"You sure?" Taourit asked. "Maybe they felt they'd learned as much about the ship and about us as they could." He gestured around the room. "Just because everything's in place doesn't mean they mightn't have taken the Seeker apart and put it back together again. I'd bet they could. Did you notice those upper hands, the ones they call truhands? They can do detail work finer than the best human artisan.
"So why couldn't they also have engineered our escape? Not one of their people was harmed. That could be due to surprise or complete lack of it. I don't think there's any surveillance equipment on board. Our diagnostics would have found it by now and it could hardly report back over interstellar distances, anyway. But they've got a better recording instrument on board in this Ryo."
"Farfetched. How could he get his information back home?"
"I don't know, Captain. But then, there's quite a lot we don't know about these bugs. Sure, it's farfetched but not impossible."
"No, not impossible," she admitted.
"Maybe they were right," Bonnie put in from across the control room.
"Right about what?" Taourit asked.
"About our racial paranoia. Our history supports them about as much as your current conversation."
"It's only a possibility that ought to be considered," Sanchez argued. But she did not resume the discussion with the cocontroller. The implications of the detector's words were unpleasant.
They were twelve hours out and a good distance from Hivehom, and Alexis Antonovich was exhausted. He had been glued to his drive monitors since they'd retaken the Seeker. The ship was performing beautifully. The repairs continued to hold and there wasn't a hint of oscillation in the field. She shot through Space Plus snugly wrapped in her convoying envelope of mathematical distortion. Now the engineer just wanted to rest.
He stopped in front of the door to his compartment, touched the switch that slid it aside. Bleary eyed, he moved to the wash basin. After cleaning his face he felt much better. A glance in the mirror showed a scraggly growth of beard that had acctzmrzlated can the bug wctrld. Depilatory cream was one of many items they hadn't had time to bring down from the orbiting Seeker.
Something else was reflected in the mirror: a pair of bulbous, gleaming, multicolored eyes stared at his reflection. Whirling, he was confronted by the Sight of a fivefoot long arthropod lying on its left side on his bed. It held his pillow in one blue green armored hand.
"Self inspection," it commented in whispery but quite understandable Terranglo. "That's interesting." It gestured with the pillow. "Perhaps you can explain the function of this soft device to me?"
"It's called a pillow," Alexis responded automatically to the polite question. "We rest our heads on it while we sleep."
"But why would you need something else to rest your head upon," the Thranx inquired, examining the pillow closely, "when this lounge is already too soft?"
"That's because " Alexis broke off the reply, suddenly conscious of what was happening. He moved quickly to the wall communicator, activated it, and talked without taking his gaze from the creature on his bed.
"Captain, Alexis here. I just went off duty. I'm in my cabin. I think perhaps there are some matters we have to clarify."
Despite Taourit's suspicions, Ryo was given the run of the ship. He was full of questions that he knew sometimes irritated his human hosts, who were concerned only with their own safe return. Though he was still learning about facial expression, a radical new concept to a being with an inflexible exoskeleton, he was convinced some of them looked at him in a less than friendly manner. That disturbed him, but he told himself firmly that it was only natural.
His first request for access to the Seeker's computer bank was turned down. Only when the last, persistent Thranx ship finally faded from the screens did the captain relent. Ryo could find nothing harmful without special coding. The general files were more entertaining than dangerous and Ryo's desire to learn more about his hosts seemed devoid of ulterior motive.
He was also able to study the crew at their stations. of the twelve surviving members of the Seeker's crew, at least four were openly, even enthusiastically friendly Loo and Bonnie, the engineer named Alexis, and the ship's environmental monitor. Another six, including Captain Elvirasanchez, were politely neutral. Only two remained overtly hostile, despite Sanchez's orders for them to act courteous in Ryo's presence.
Their hostility troubled him. After several unsuccessful attempts to win them over one even became physically ill in his presence he decided not, to press the matter and simply avoided them whenever possible.
A study of human history revealed an antiarthropod bias exceeding the hereditary Thranx fear of mammals and other soft bodies. In addition to groundless but very persistent phobias, actual events such as plague and the massive destruction of food supplies lent support to such a bias.
Small arthropods such as insects sometimes ate Thranx food, but not to the degree they had devastated human supplies throughout history. It was not surprising, then, that in unguarded moments even Loo and Bonnie looked at him with unconscious expressions of fear and disgust. It was hard for them to overcom
e a lifetime's conditioning.
As it was for him. Their warm, smelly bodies pressed constantly around him and he had to struggle to suppress his own instinctive reactions.
At least that was not a reciprocal problem. Even the two who actively disliked him confessed that his natural odor resembled a cross between lemon and lilacs, whatever they were. More than once he caught a crew member inhaling with obvious pleasure in his presence. Their sense of smell was located in twin openings located just above their mouths, which struck Ryo as a particularly impractical arrangement.
How odd it would be, he thought amusedly, if understanding should be reached between our species not on the basis of mutual interests or intellectual discourse, but because one of us smells good to the other.
He spent the days in Space Plus devouring everything the computer would feed him. Its controls were unnecessarily bulky and easy to manipulate. His knowledge of monster- of human language and customs increased.
The engineer Alexis had shown Ryo how to use the terminal in his burrow. Then he moved in with a companion so his living quarters could be given over to the Thranx. Since each burrow had individual climate controls Ryo was able to alter temperature and humidity to suit his own temperament. As the humans found the hot, sticky climate in the room distinctly uncomfortable, he had a good deal of privacy in which to pursue his studies.
Few visited him except for Loo and Bonnie and, after a while, the captain. Sanchez did not warm to Ryo as they had, but her conversation was always absorbing. Ryo knew she was in a difficult official position because, as she saw it, the Thranx were the first intelligent race mankind had encountered and the circumstances under which contact had been made were not covered by official procedure.
"No," he corrected her. "We're the second intelligent race you've encountered." Ryo then gave her a complete rundown on the AAnn, admitting from the first that it would be biased. The Seeker's remaining science staff was brought in and they listened raptly to the lecture.
The atmosphere on the Seeker was never completely relaxed. No one knew if her repairs would hold to the end of the journey. If the drive were to fail, their sublight engines could still get them back to Centaurus in a couple of hundred years or so. Her arrival would be of interest, but not to the desiccated corpses crewing her. .
But the repairs continued to hold and the drive continued to function. The air grew foul and thin for several days, but that was as close as internal elements came to a serious breakdown.
Activity intensified on the day designated for emergence into normal space. The countdown commenced with no more than the usual tension, the familiar wrenching sensation was felt, several of the crew lost the contents of their stomachs, and then it was done.
Ryo moved hurriedly to the main port in the ship's control room. A planet drifted below and, above it, a distant and to him very dim sun. Though no astronomer, he thought the world beneath must be far too cold and harsh to support life. Surely it was not their intended destination.
"You're right," the cocontroller informed him, without taking his eyes from his instrumentation. "There are eight planets in this system, of which the third and fifth have been colonized." He smiled. "Mistakenly, too. The colonists who first arrived here thought they'd reached an entirely different star."
"If this is not our destination, then why are we stopping here?"
"Standard precautions regulating returning exploration craft," Taourit told him. He pointed to the port. "See that bright spot just ahead? That's where we're going."
The orbital station circling Centaurus' seventh planet was an enormous wheeled complex, mankind's farthest outpost. It impressed Ryo. The world it circled was cold and dead.
A large and, Ryo thought, too well armed cluster of humans met him and his companions when they emerged from the station airlock. They were polite, but he could read emotions other than welcome in some of the faces.
The official who made the short speech and greeted him in a mildly patronizing manner was courteous enough, however. Ryo was conducted to a spacious burrow on the skin of the station. A sweeping port offered a view of the stars and the icy globe rotating below.
The temperature and humidity had been set to his specifications, and plants had been provided to give the burrow a homelike atmosphere. Someone had gone to a great deal of effort to insure his comfort.
After the expected argument he was allowed a computer terminal, one slightly more complicated than the one he'd used on the Seeker. The engineer who instructed him in its use watched with more than a little envy as Ryo utilized sixteen digits and four hands to input requests far more rapidly than any human could have managed.
Days of conversation followed. As long as the station authorities allowed him access to information, Ryo was reasonably happy. The percentages of humans who openly liked him, were uncertain, or unremittingly inimical remained about the same as on board the Seeker. But his visitors were mostly scientists and researchers, he reminded himself. He doubted he would be as well accepted among the general populace.
Occasionally he was visited by members of the Seeker's crew. They were undergoing debriefing elsewhere on the station and did not try to conceal their pleasure at once more being with their own kind.
Ryo's guests included one group of three that spent an inordinate amount of time with him. There was one large elderly male and a smaller elderly female who both sported white fur. The third member of this team was a considerably younger male.
At the moment Ryo was stretched out flat on a saddle that the station shop had hastily cobbled together for him. The alien fabric was gently gripping against his abdomen and thorax, the head brace decently curved. He crossed his hands over his front and let his legs droop lazily over the sides of the saddle. In addition to the three scientists, Loo was present, not to act as interpreter, since Ryo's mastery of the human language was now extensive, but simply to be a familiar go between should the need arise.
After several hours of discussion concerning Thranx cultural habits, Ryo had a question of his own.
"You know, I have an interesting proposal I would like to make. I've given it a good deal of thought." He studied his visitors as they waited for him to continue.
On the right was the elder male named Rijseen. Ryo had decided he was the equivalent of an Eint, for he was often deferred to by other inquirers. Next to him sat the elder female Kibwezi, whose skin was nearly as dark as the space surrounding the station. Nearby was the youngest of the three, the diminutive male called Bhadravati.
Since they'd first come to question him many changes had been made in Ryo's burrow, at his request. The ceiling had been lowered nearly a meter. A human of more than average height was therefore compelled to stoop when walking. All the right angles had been removed through the addition of sprayed polyfoam. The lighting had been reduced. The heat and humidity remained at Willow wane normal.
By way of partial compensation a changing room had been installed between the station corridor and the burrow proper. There visitors could discard whatever clothing they wished so they might speak with their alien guest in comparative comfort.
Despite the fact that he was sitting practically naked, the sweat was pouring from Rijseen's face. His companions seemed more at home in the tropical climate of Ryo's quarters.
The phenomenon of sweat fascinated Ryo, but he led his thoughts away from it to the question he intended to ask. "During my studies I have learned that there are regions on several of the worlds you have settled which you make little or no use of. This includes your home world of Earth."
"You aren't supposed to know details like that," the younger man interrupted sharply. Then he blinked as if he'd mentioned something he wasn't supposed to. The woman threw him a look of reproach. It didn't pass Ryo, who'd become adept at recognizing the meaning of such flexings. He let out a short whistle of amusement.
"When a society becomes sufficiently advanced technologically it becomes very ha
rd to conceal something from someone who knows how to ask the right questions. While we are considerably different in shape, our information machines generally obey the same laws. Do not be surprised that I have circumvented certain restraints. I do so out of curiosity, not malice.
"On your Earth there are areas such as the Malay peninsula, the Congo region of the continent called Africa, and in particular the Amazon basin that are to this day thinly inhabited and inefficiently utilized, though you have made extensive efforts to exploit them."
"They're likely to remain that way," Kibwezi commented.
"That is not necessary. For example, you have left the Amazon basin largely untouched because it was found some time ago that extensive development of the region would result in catastrophic deforestation. This would upset the production of oxygen and possibly unbalance your atmosphere.
"We .are not only experienced at making use of such areas, we prefer to live beneath them. The humidity and temperature would be like home to me. We can tunnel through and live in almost any kind of ground, the result of thousands of years of sophisticated excavating. Although it is a little cool during certain seasons, my people could live quite contentedly in such a place, which can be only forever inhospitable to your kind." He hurried on.
"Lest you think me making a subtle suggestion of invasion, I must also tell you that there are comparable regions on our own worlds that you would find quite pleasant, though I would not live in them for all the credit in the universe. Some of them are greater in proportion to their planets' surface areas than this Amazon basin is to your Earth's.
"For example, the extreme polar regions of our capital world of Hivehom are lethally cold to us, yet according to my studies no worse than much of your northern hemisphere continents." He gestured at Loo. "Those who were held there can attest to its climate during our coldest season.
"There is also an extensive plateau that rises two thousand meters above its surrounding country. Many of the trees you call softwoods thrive up there. Rainfall is moderate by your standards and temperatures too cool for Thranx comfort. There are no mineral resources but the soil is suitable for the kinds of farming I have studied." A little pride crept into his tone. "Of that I can promise you.
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