The Light-years Beneath My Feet (The Taken)

by Alan Dean Foster

  His Toroudian counterparts were no different, save that their uniform wrappings were gray and purple in contrast to the Kojn-umm blend of yellow, brown, and silver. They were also an equal mix of male and female. There were no tables—only a sufficiency of the usual narrow-backed, narrow-seated Niyyuuan chairs, arranged in two crescents facing one another. In the absence of modern recording instrumentation, scribes stood ready on both sides to take down everything that was said, so that there could be no chance of confusion later. Though the method was ancient, the materials were not, and could be unceremoniously dumped into any reader and rapidly transmuted into electronic form.

  The official Toroudian contingent was impressive. Toroud-eed had fought and defeated several, often larger realms in the perpetual Niyyuuan search for commercial or political advantage. Its fighters were tough and determined, its government resolute, its traditional defenses well laid-out and maintained. All the more reason Saluu-hir-lek and his soldiers had gained so much acclaim for recently driving them away from Jalar-aad-biidh. It was safe to say that they had been surprised by the Kojnian’s decision to counterattack so soon after their recently terminated siege.

  That did not mean, the general knew, that they were so weakened that their realm could be easily overcome. Hence the need for this conference—and for elucidation. Formalities were held to a minimum. There were battles to be fought.

  Once the obligatory introductions and stiff pleasantries had been exchanged, Fadye-mur-gos, the commander of Herun-uud-taath’s defenses, unfolded herself and rose. She was of average height, average breadth, average everything except intelligence and resolve.

  “I congratulate yous on deception yous devised to get yous’ troops inside the southeastern gate. Unfortunately for yous, they now trapped there, unable to advance any farther into ours defensive complex or to retreat without being cut down both within and outside the walls.”

  Saluu-hir-lek rose and advanced to meet her. As was usually the case, he was notably shorter than his opposite number. As was also usually the case, he did not seem so.

  “It all matter of interpretation. Is Wegenabb half-full or half-declining? I would say instead my troops now control southeastern section of Herun-uud-taath. Use of it is denied yous for any purpose. From present firmly secured position, soldiers of Kojn-umm can harry yous’ forces from the rear, cut off any resupply of yous from that main route, and if necessary can fall back in good order with minimal casualties.”

  No outcries of disagreement rose from her staff, and her eyes did not dilate; but here and there the general saw the occasional half flexing of a frill, the tight contraction of a mouth, the stiffening of several tails. The tactical truth, he knew, probably lay somewhere between her assertion and his rebuttal, though he felt confident of his own position. Like any good officer, in conceding her contention a modicum of truth, he was simply being strategically conservative.

  Despite their best efforts to conceal it, however, her staff knew who held the plausible advantage.

  “In fact,” he added for good measure, “we actually do have the means for reinforcing our position inside Herun-uud-taath.” He was not certain if they believed that one, but the claim visibly unsettled some of the Toroudian senior staff even more than had his confident rebuttal.

  Fadye-mur-gos was not about to let him spew claims unchallenged. “I disagree with everything you assert,” she rasped back, shifting her stance so that her upper body and long neck inclined belligerently toward him.

  Saluu-hir-lek was not fazed in the least, either by her words or her posture. “I speaking the truth. You may not know it, yous’ staff may not know it, but yous’ junior officers and soldiers on station know it.” After letting that sink in and enjoying their discomfort during the pause, he let loose with something that for the first time genuinely did shock them.

  “However, it not matter, because forces of realm of greater Kojn-umm ready to stop fighting right now.”

  At least two of the assembled officers seated behind their commander emitted exhalations of disbelief. She turned on them sharply, silencing any further outbursts of surprise with a warning stare, before returning her attention to her opposite number. She also resumed a fully upright stance.

  “I not sure you listened to correctly. You presenting offer of surrender?” Despite her admirable self-control, she could not keep a hint of incredulity from her voice.

  “That would be absurd, would it not be? With us holding the strategic advantage?”

  “Yous hold no such advantage,” she corrected him without hesitation.

  He made a coordinated sinuous gesture with both arms. “I not call this meeting for argue merits of current battlefield situation. I making offer to stop fighting, not to surrender. Are very different callings.”

  “Surely,” she responded, recovering some of her momentarily lost poise, “you not asking for ours?”

  “No, I not.” Head tilted back, huge eyes fully open, he met her gaze evenly.

  Clearly, even someone as experienced and knowledgeable as Fadye-mur-gos had never dealt with such a situation before, and certainly not on an active battlefield. Despite her partisan bluster, Saluu-hir-lek was confident someone of her martial erudition was well aware that the successful infiltration of a portion of Herun-uud-taath had shifted the balance of power on the battlefield in favor of the invaders. Not decisively, perhaps, but meaningfully. So his offer to call a halt to the fighting, when the forces of Kojn-umm held the advantage, had thrown her and her staff badly off balance. As she tried to figure out what he was doing and what he was really after, she was doing her best to stall for time.

  He had no intention of letting her.

  “Then I confess I not understand what you really offering, Saluu-hir-lek.”

  He allowed his gaze to occasionally travel beyond her so that he could make eye contact with each and every member of her senior staff. Some of them were older than she was, he noted, and would find what he was about to say even more bewildering than what had already transpired.

  “What I offering, on behalf of myself, my troops, and the government of greater Kojn-umm, is opportunity for both sides to win.”

  Fadye-mur-gos thought she had prepared well for this meeting, this significant confrontation. Even when the conversation with her renowned counterpart had begun to disintegrate into uncertainty, she was convinced she remained on top of and aware of all its possible ramifications, even to the seemingly outrageous. But now, for the first time in her long and distinguished military career, she found herself at a loss. It made her very uncomfortable. In the short term, her unease translated into outrage.

  “You trying joke with me, Saluu-hir-lek. I have never hear of such a thing. This not a game we play in here today. Lives balance on the blade of our responses.”

  “All the reason more to listen close, all yous, to what I have to say.”

  Though still confused, she gestured strongly. “Oh, we all will listen well. I myself am most very curious hear you attempt clarification of the blatantly preposterous. Is no war, no battle, where both sides can win. Always one side win, one lose. Always one side advance to take control of field of battle, other side retreat.”

  “Not,” Saluu-hir-lek told her, “if both sides advance together.” Turning, he gestured tersely.

  Two figures new to the talks entered the meeting area. While one was only slightly shorter than the typical Niyyuu, the other was a squat, hirsute quadruped with small bright eyes, a wet nose, and a tongue that lolled indifferently from the left side of its open jaws. It flumped down next to the seat of one of Saluu-hir-lek’s senior officers as its somewhat less hairy bipedal companion advanced to stand beside the general.

  Along with her own subordinates, Fadye-mur-gos stared at first one new arrival then the other before returning her attention to her counterpart. “These are two of four aliens arrived Kojn-umm some many ten-days ago. I know of them from sightings on general broadcastings. One is entertaining personage; other
is celebrated for skill in culinary arts. Neither is soldier. Why they here, at this summiting? What have they to do with action of and on battlefield? You perhaps think to bombard us with expensive food?”

  Expecting to encounter no aliens, she wore no translator, but in the long months since they had been on Niyu, both man and dog had managed to acquire a working knowledge of the principal language. Like the Niyyuu themselves, their speech was discordant but straightforward. If his appearance at the conference was something of a shock, his growling knowledge of their language was even more so. Meanwhile Saluu-hir-lek stood back slightly, hugely enjoying himself.

  There was a time not so very long ago when Walker would have been completely intimidated by the kind of audience he now faced. No longer. Thanks to the time he had spent in the company of a diversity of aliens while in Vilenjji captivity and encounters subsequent with many more, he had reached the point where he no longer thought of any alien as particularly “alien.” They were simply other beings, with elaborate makeup and often impossible forms but with personalities and cultural affectations no stranger than some he had encountered on the streets of downtown Chicago. He faced the bemused, hostile representatives of the defiant military establishment of the realm of Toroud-eed squarely.

  “I am called Marcus Walker. I come from a world that is not a part of what passes for galactic civilization. As such, I am a neutral party to the current conflict.” As always when he spoke Niyyuuan, his throat hurt. The nearest earthly analog, he knew from once having seen a documentary on it, was Mongolian throat-singing. But he persevered, and each time he did it, the lining of his throat protested a little less.

  “You travel with and support aims and objectives of realm of Kojn-umm,” one of the Toroudian officers countered sharply.

  Walker met huge, accusing eyes to which he was no longer a stranger. “I travel with the army of Kojn-umm, yes. I can fight but do not. Sometimes I cook for them. That is different from fighting. I would be happy to cook for the valiant soldiers of Toroud-eed as well.”

  Both his offer and his manner were designed to be disarming. They had the intended effect. The hostility directed toward him lessened perceptibly.

  “How could that be?” inquired another senior officer. “Saluu-hir-lek speaks of advancing together. Advancing where, and to what end? You have some knowledge of this or you would not have been brought between the crescents.”

  “I am beginning think both the general and the alien speak obliquely of possible alliance.” As she spoke, Fadye-mur-gos was studying Walker closely. “This is impossible thinking. Firsting, were Kojn-umm and Toroud-eed to ally, would create combined traditional military force powerful enough to alarm other neighboring realms, who would join against us. Seconding, who would we ally against, and why?”

  “I’m aware of your traditions,” Walker told her. “Probably more than I really want to be. However, that’s the reality. I know that your two realms can’t cement a formal alliance against a third party without incurring the attention of other realms. So the new kind of relationship that Saluu-hir-lek and the government of Kojn-umm is proposing would not be structured as an alliance, as such a joining together is generally understood. It would simply be your two governments acting in concert for a mutually agreed-upon end.”

  “Semantics,” declared a grizzled veteran of Fadye-mur-gos’s staff. “An alliance is an alliance. It is the action that is important, not the naming.”

  “Not,” Saluu-hir-lek put in with satisfaction, “if we appear to act independently of each other.”

  The veteran was not convinced. His frill, Walker noted, was ragged with age and the scars of many battles. “This talk make my head hurt. A sword is more direct.”

  “If you break off this fight,” Walker continued, “without striking a formal peace agreement, then technically the forces of Kojn-umm and Toroud-eed are still at war, right?”

  Fadye-mur-gos turned to her staff, two of whom gestured strongly and without hesitation. “That is so,” she hacked at Walker, her tone guarded.

  “And if each of you independently and without apparent coordination attack a third entity while still formally at war with each other, perhaps even while continuing to engage in skirmishes against one another at the same time, wouldn’t it be very difficult for anyone else to prove you were acting together against that third party? As an alliance?”

  “I suppose it might so appear,” she conceded. Her gaze shifted to the smug-looking Saluu-hir-lek standing nearby. “Of course, even with attempts to control such skirmishes they could easily develop into larger battles. If that happened, and inexplicable fast stopping was put to them, then deception would be exposed.”

  “Not,” the general of Kojn-umm told her, “if they were adjudicated by a third, uninterested party. In such case, would be impossible prove one side colluding with the other.”

  “What third party could reasonably be expected judge such unprecedented kind of confrontations?” she shot back.

  “Your annoying, nosy, ever-present media.”

  All eyes went to the latest arrival to the conference. Scuttling in on all ten limbs, Sque scrambled onto the back of an empty chair, a position that elevated her to eye level with the others.

  “I am called Sequi’aranaqua’na’senemu. I am smarter than anyone in this cheerless fold-up of a building, and I can prove it. I can also prove it to anyone on this benighted world.”

  Walker winced, but held out hope that as she continued, his companion would moderate her usual contempt.

  “If others of your world, including your omnipresent worldwide media, can see that the continuously argumentative forces of Kojn-umm and Toroud-eed continue to battle one another across an ever-widening field of combat, it should make it apparent to all that you are not functioning as true allies. Allies do not go on fighting and killing one another. Seeing this, it is unlikely a devastating coalition of multiple realms will be arrayed against you. At the very least, from my studies of your traditions, it will greatly confuse the matter. Debate will take the form of extended discussion, by which time your objective will be achieved.”

  “Objective?” Yet again Fadye-mur-gos found herself at a loss. It was not a condition she enjoyed. “What objective?”

  “The subjugation of Biranju-oov,” Walker told her.

  There was a stir among the general staff of the army of Toroud-eed. None of them had any love for that powerful maritime realm. But strong as they were, Toroud-eed had never been powerful enough to contemplate mounting a traditional attack against their larger neighbor. Impossible as the relevant arrangements seemed on the face of it, the offer that was being put forward was too appealing to simply ignore.

  Fadye-mur-gos remained doubtful. “This is a ruse, a subterfuge. No matter what ongoing skirmishing between our two armies the media may show, other realms will detect the ghost of an alliance if not the reality of one.”

  “But they will be uncertain as to its ultimate objective,” Walker told her. “And being uncertain, they will delay. By the time they decide to join and move against you—if they even reach that point of agreement—Biranju-oov’s traditional forces will be defeated and its government forced to make the concessions Kojn-umm and Toroud-eed have long sought from it.”

  They were tempted, he saw. It was a new idea. Continue fighting one another while surreptitiously striving toward a common goal. Like Saluu-hir-lek, they were wondering if it was workable, and if so, if it violated the strict traditions of Niyyuuan combat. To Walker the process was intimately familiar. It was exactly the kind of ploy traders used on the floor of the exchange when two or more parties wished to try to manipulate the market for a particular commodity. They would agree to bid against one another to drive a price up or down. It was illegal, of course, and if the respective parties were found out, people could, and did, get sent to jail.

  But this was not Chicago, and the issue at stake was not the price of cocoa beans.

  Fadye-mur-gos and her staff were
wavering, he saw. It was time to push them over the edge. With a nod in Sque’s direction and her acquiescent wave of one tendril, he spoke into the pregnant silence.

  “There is one more thing.” The enemy commander turned to him. “It is recognized that even with ongoing skirmishes between the forces of Kojn-umm and Toroud-eed, the appearance of collusion may persist. Therefore, Saluu-hir-lek has agreed to turn over ‘official’ command of the army of Kojn-umm to me and my friends. That would make the appearance of some kind of covert alliance between Kojn-umm and Toroud-eed appear even less likely.”

  This time even Fadye-mur-gos could not repress an exhalation of surprise. She looked immediately at Saluu-hir-lek. When that worthy responded positively, the burst of energetic discussion among her staff could not be suppressed. Once the import of Walker’s statement sank in, however, she found herself gesturing knowingly.

  “Very clever. Perhaps too clever. If little-known aliens appear have taken control of army of Kojn-umm, outside observers will be distracted by issues that have nothing do with matters of possible alliance. They be so busy trying analyze ramifications, war may be over before any kind understanding is reached.” Her gaze returned to Walker. “This only adroit fiction, of course. Kojn-umm would never surrender real power to off-worlders. No Niyyuuan realm would do so.”

  “How you know?” Saluu-hir-lek challenged her. “When was last time such situation transpired?”

  It was dead silent in the meeting room. She stared at him for a long moment—and then burst out in the coughing equivalent of robust Niyyuuan laughter, in which she was soon joined by both her staff and that of Saluu-hir-lek. Walker and George both winced. The collective noise sounded like a hundred metal files simultaneously working on one giant piece of rough iron.