The Starfarers Quartet Omnibus

by Vonda N. McIntyre

  “J.D.,” she said, abruptly wide awake. “Hi.”

  “Hi. How are you feeling?”

  “Strange but okay. Drugged.”

  “An accurate perception.”

  Esther grinned.

  “You were magnificent,” J.D. said.

  “Was I? What happened? I remember it all — but I don’t know what it meant.”

  “I’m tempted to stomp Late like a rug till he tells me, but that wouldn’t stand me in good stead with the alien contact guild.”

  “So maybe we’ll never know?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Damn.”

  Esther looked at her hands, at the transparent bandages cleaning and healing the wounds. A smear of dissolving blood lay just above the cuts. Above the bloody haze a constellation of bright irregular shards worked their way upward.

  “Look,” Esther said. “The Representative left me something to remember him by.”

  J.D. looked. “What — ? Diamonds — !”

  “Industrial grade, I bet,” Esther said with a laugh. “Good souvenirs, though.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “What?”

  J.D. shook off her unease. “I was thinking about gifts. The rituals we went through. I think they were benign — reciprocal. But I bet if you’d accepted the Representative’s jewels, he would have made a claim on Nautilus.”

  “I wasn’t even tempted,” Esther said. “Isn’t that strange? Because I’m going to have a hell of a time finding a job when — if — we go home. I could use a stake.”

  “I know,” J.D. said sadly.

  “Shall I collect these crystals and send them back to him?”

  J.D. considered. “No,” she said. She gestured toward Esther’s diamond-scattered palms. “Those are no gift. You earned them. Keep them.”

  “I might have to give them to EarthSpace — or the US government.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “You aren’t going to turn Nautilus over to them! Are you?”

  J.D. hesitated.

  “No.”

  “Good.” Esther sat up. “J.D., I found water!”

  “What, here?”

  “Yes. Ice, I mean. Where Nemo’s lungs were.”

  “That’s —” Joy caught in her throat like champagne bubbles. “That’s wonderful! That’ll make it possible to start terraforming...”

  I should have realized Nautilus must have water somewhere, J.D. thought. But I just haven’t had time to think about it.

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Didn’t have a chance before.”

  Voices, their words muffled, rumbled through the fabric wall of the expedition tent.

  “Who’s here?” Esther asked.

  Kolya tapped at the fabric door.

  “Come in.”

  He leaned into the room. “Petrovich will — ah, you’re awake, how are you?”

  He came in, light on his feet in the negligible gravity. He sat on his heels beside Esther.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “What about Griffith?”

  “He’ll be here soon.”

  “What’s he coming here for?”

  “I asked him to,” J.D. said. “I have to go back to Starfarer for a little while longer — to stand on our friend Late, among other things. And I didn’t want to leave Kolya here all alone.”

  “You aren’t alone,” Esther said to Kolya. “I’m here.”

  “You have to spend some time in the health center.”

  Esther looked at her hands.

  J.D. thought, If she were a character in an adventure novel, she’d object. She’d insist on staying behind, heroically, to guard the starship, no matter what the risk to her health. And she is heroic.

  J.D. prepared to argue.

  “Oh, hell,” Esther said. “I guess I’d better.” She grimaced with disgust. “Griffith! Can you trust him?”

  “I trust him... to do as Kolya asks,” J.D. said.

  “I may have broken him of that habit,” Kolya said ruefully. “On the other hand, I believe he has decided — decided of his own will — to throw in with us.”

  Kolya gazed down at Esther. “Perhaps I’ll let him stay here alone. And I’ll come back to Starfarer with you.”

  “I wish you could.”

  “I won’t be gone long,” J.D. said, hoping it was true.

  Victoria’s image appeared in the tent. J.D. accepted the message and projected her own image back to the Chi, which perched on Nautilus’s surface a few hundred meters from the expedition tent.

  “Griffith’s here,” Victoria said. “J.D., it’s time to go home.”

  Chapter 11

  J.D. and Satoshi helped Esther out of the transport. With her hands covered in bandage compound, she moved awkwardly in zero g.

  As usual, half the people on board Starfarer were waiting to greet them.

  I ought to be getting used to this by now, J.D. thought. I’d probably be right here with everybody else, wanting to hear first-hand what happened, even if I’d watched every minute of it while it was happening. If I weren’t lucky enough to be in the vanguard.

  Infinity Mendez moved through the crowd with uncharacteristic abruptness. He even pushed off against a couple of people when his forward momentum slowed.

  He dragged his hand across the bulkhead and stopped in front of Esther. He took her gently by the shoulders and gazed into her eyes.

  “You’re all right,” he said, part assertion, part question.

  “Sure,” she said.

  He hugged her, being careful of her hands.

  “Let’s go home.”

  “Health center first,” J.D. said. “Then home.”

  “Okay.”

  They made their way through the waiting room. Florrie Brown joined them and went with them toward the exit.

  J.D. let out her breath in a long, relieved sigh. She felt as if she had been holding her breath since leaving Largernearer, as if she had spent the last few hours struggling for air. The fear and the worry and the confusion lifted from her.

  The Largerfarther quartet hurtled into the waiting room, a riot of bright fur and shining eyes and arms and legs. They grabbed for the walls and the doorway to scramble to a stop, and clustered solicitously around Esther. Infinity extricated his friend from their concern and vanished through the doorway with her and Florrie Brown.

  Quickercatcher and the others turned their attention toward J.D. To her surprise, Late clung to Sharphearer’s back as if nothing had happened. Europa and Androgeos followed them in. Europa was her usual elegant self, but another morning of excavating had left Andro grubby. His pleated white kilt showed the dirt much worse than Europa’s homespun skirt, especially around the knees.

  “J.D., it was so exciting!” Quickercatcher said, nudging her with his nose and taking her hand in his two-thumbed grip.

  “It’s good that Esther is all right,” Fasterdigger said, his low voice rumbling.

  “The Smallerfarthing eldest —” Longestlooker said.

  “Her visit is a great occasion!” Late’s voice poured through J.D.’s link like warm honey. “A great occurrence, a great honor!”

  “Did you have a nice nap?” J.D. asked Late, her tone prickly.

  “A nap? Oh, no, I wasn’t sleeping! I was in communication with the Representative and I had no attention left to spare. You know, you understand.”

  J.D. regarded him suspiciously. But it was true that when she involved herself fully in her expanded link, she perceived nothing through her other senses.

  “I needed your advice,” she said, unwilling to forgive Late so easily. “Yours, too, Quickercatcher. You’re supposed to be helping us, I thought —”

  “I am supposed to be helping you,” Europa said. “And I was of no use either.”

  “That’s sure true,” Satoshi said.

  “None of us had any advice to give,” Longestlooker told them. “But now we have an invitation.” She glanced at Quickercatcher.

  “T
he Four Worlds invite Earth to join Civilization,” Quickercatcher said. He made a thoughtful jut of his chin, and bristled his soft mauve whiskers,

  J.D. exhaled with a “Huh!” of surprise. She started to accept, to agree, to shout in triumph. But she had no air left to speak with. She drew in a breath.

  “Will you visit the Farther Worlds,” Longestlooker said, “and participate in the ceremony?”

  “We’ll have to discuss it with our colleagues,” Satoshi said.

  “You can’t reject the invitation!” Androgeos cried. “Don’t you understand what this means?”

  For once, J.D. agreed with the brusque younger Minoan. Satoshi was right... but J.D. longed for Starfarer to accept the invitation instantly, by acclamation.

  “Please, Satoshi,” Europa said. “Our friends are showing great confidence in us.”

  “I know it,” Satoshi said.

  “We aren’t in charge,” Victoria said. “However much we want to accept, however sure we are about accepting — we have to discuss it with everyone.”

  “Satoshi’s quite right,” Gerald said smoothly. “No single person, no single group, can make a decision of such importance.”

  “You must understand that, Longestlooker,” J.D. said. “You and your siblings, you agree before you act.”

  “Usually.” She gazed fondly at Europa, at Androgeos. “But we don’t necessarily expect Earth human people to behave that way.” The Largerfarthing blinked her eyelids from outer corners to inner, amused.

  “Human people spawn unique situations,” Quickercatcher said.

  “Every one of them awkward,” Androgeos said, with no humor at all.

  “Andro —” J.D. was out of patience with him. She understood better why he was so aggravating, but the knowledge did not make him much easier to take. “You’ve given us a few awkward moments, too, you know.”

  “If we’re so awkward,” Stephen Thomas said, “why are we being invited to join Civilization?”

  Both Gerald and Androgeos glared at him, but J.D. thought, I should have asked that question. We all should have.

  “Because you are unique,” Quickercatcher said.

  “And that’s enough?” J.D. asked. “You’ve told me each evolutionary system is unique. There’s no hierarchy of uniqueness.”

  Longestlooker raised her chin, then ducked her head, thoughtfully.

  “Our colleague from Smallerfarther gave us a good example to follow,” she said. “We’re risking ourselves for you.”

  “Why?” Stephen Thomas said again.

  “Without risk,” Longestlooker said, “there can be no achievement.”

  “Will you justify our risk?” Quickercatcher asked.

  “I hope so,” J.D. said. “But we all have to agree.”

  “Then let’s go discuss it with everyone,” Androgeos said.

  “Not tonight,” Satoshi said firmly. “Too much has happened. We’re all tired and overwrought.”

  J.D. touched Arachne through her link. “I’ve proposed a meeting,” she said. “For tomorrow.” Seconds to the meeting had already begun to gather.

  “Good,” Satoshi said. “We’ll sort things out then.”

  “Unless the Smallerfarthings have more surprises planned for us tonight,” Stephen Thomas said, his humor badly timed.

  o0o

  Victoria walked down the long slope between Starfarer’s axis and the living surface. The crowd from the waiting room had dispersed, as everyone headed home to regroup. Victoria and Satoshi and Stephen Thomas straggled down the trail, apart from each other, the distance more than physical. Victoria wished she knew how to close it.

  She lengthened her stride and caught up to Satoshi.

  They reached the bottom of the hill. The trail was wide enough to walk three abreast. Victoria glanced at Satoshi; they closed the distance between them and Stephen Thomas. With Stephen Thomas on one side and Satoshi on the other, Victoria felt normal, as normal as she ever had since Merry died.

  “The invitation surprised me,” she said by way of making conversation.

  “Is it sincere?” Satoshi said.

  “I hope so!”

  “It’s another damned plan for them to get your work!” Stephen Thomas said.

  Victoria grinned. “They could charge us dues. One algorithm’s worth, for membership.”

  “But that’s exactly what they do,” Satoshi said, “if I understood Europa correctly.”

  “If it’s in return for a full place in Civilization, they can have the algorithm with my blessings. And I’ll say that at the meeting.”

  They reached the turnoff to their house. Stephen Thomas stopped, suddenly awkward. He stared down the main path. It led to the guest house.

  “I guess...” he said, “I guess I’ll see you at the meeting.”

  Victoria grabbed his hand, and Satoshi’s.

  “I think we should sort ourselves out before we try to help sort out Starfarer,” she said. “Will you come home? Can we try?”

  “Yeah,” Stephen Thomas said.

  Satoshi said nothing, which scared Victoria. She knew what he was thinking, and not saying: Sort ourselves out... if we can.

  Victoria kissed him, and brushed her lips against Stephen Thomas’s. The warmth of his skin startled and pleased her. She drew her hand down his cheek, along the side of his neck. The thin cool chain of his necklace was missing. She could not remember when she had seen him wear it last. That was strange.

  “What happened to your necklace?” she asked Stephen Thomas. She stroked the gold pelt, smoothing it against his shoulder. “Did it chafe you?” Still, she was surprised he had taken it off. Merry had given Stephen Thomas the crystal of watermelon tourmaline. Stephen Thomas always wore it. It would look pretty against his dark skin and gold fur.

  Stephen Thomas absently touched the hollow of his throat, where the crystal usually lay.

  “I left it on Feral’s grave,” he said.

  Shocked, Victoria let her hand fall. The distance between her and Stephen Thomas stretched to the horizon. Stunned, she started to tremble.

  “Victoria? Are you okay?”

  “Merry’s necklace is gone?” Her voice quivered and her vision blurred.

  “It isn’t gone,” Stephen Thomas said. “I left it —”

  “Somewhere in the wild side, lying in the dirt!” Victoria’s eyes stung and her throat burned with the effort of holding back tears. “The last thing Merry ever gave you — ever gave any of us!”

  “If you wanted it,” Stephen Thomas said, “I’d’ve given it to you.”

  “I didn’t want it! I liked seeing you wear it. I wanted you —”

  “Victoria,” Satoshi said softly, “Victoria, stop, please.”

  “I don’t understand —” Her voice broke.

  “Jesus Christ,” Stephen Thomas said. “I can’t do anything right anymore, can I?”

  He looked at her for a moment, his teeth clenched. Victoria tried to speak, but she was too hurt and angry. And she was afraid to cry in front of him again.

  Stephen Thomas walked away from his partners, rigid with fury.

  “Stephen Thomas!” Satoshi said. Stephen Thomas kept walking. Satoshi gripped Victoria by the shoulders. “Say something to him!”

  “I can’t,” Victoria said. “I don’t know what to say anymore.”

  o0o

  Stephen Thomas flung his shorts onto the sand, plunged into the shallow sea, and swam away from shore. He flailed desperately through the water until his breath burned his throat and his muscles ached with exhaustion.

  He stopped. He breathed in great sobs of air, dazzled by the light on the water all around him.

  When he had caught his breath, he turned over and floated face-down, light from the sun tubes pouring hot on his back. He withdrew himself from the land, from everything that had happened beyond the soft boundary of surf.

  On the sandy sea floor his shadow glimmered, broken into a mosaic by the motion of wind and wave and the long tendrils of
seaweed that tickled his arms, his legs, his body.

  He spread his fingers and let his hands drift beneath him. The swimming webs caught every small current. When he spread his arms, his hands moved from his shadow into sunlight — what Starfarer used for sunlight — and glowed a deep red-gold. He caught the light in his hand, cupped it, released it.

  Starfarer’s shallow ocean sound-sparkled around him, drawing a picture in his mind. The waves ran up the beach in a long crescendo. Artificial lungs, growing in an underwater pen, breathed steadily, stolidly. The pulsing wave generators throbbed within the end of the campus cylinder. Plus-spin, one of Starfarer’s rivers gushed out into the sea, warm and brackish and silty, a soft whisper in the distance. The long strands of kelp hummed and sighed, like silk ribbons caressing each other in the wind.

  He wished he could stay in the ocean forever, even in Starfarer’s tiny, shallow, artificial sea. It gave him little comfort, but at least he would be alone. He could stop fighting, stop hiding his grief and his fear, stop inflicting his confusion on his partners. He thought he must be going crazy, and driving Victoria and Satoshi crazy with his descent.

  Stephen Thomas raised his head to breathe. He combed the silver worm out of his hair and let the creature coil around his wrist. His hair drifted across his eyes. A breeze cooled his wet skin, but tears ran hot down his face. He ducked underwater again. The tears dissolved and vanished into the salt water of the sea. His hair fanned out across his shoulders.

  A splash and slide from the direction of the beach revealed another swimmer. Stephen Thomas lay very still, moving only to breathe. He did not want to talk to anyone; he had chosen the deserted, weedy shore because so few people ever visited it.

  He considered diving, disappearing, swimming away.

  A sleek brown shape slid between the whisper of the kelp, quick and streamlined. A glitter of fish fled the shadow. Zev streaked beneath him, spinning, blowing bubbles that tickled him from knee to throat.

  Zev broke the surface fast with barely a sound or a ripple, then slapped back into the water with an enormous splash. Stephen Thomas lifted his head just in time to get the wave across his face. He snorted and coughed and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

  The young diver faced him, floating easily.

  “What’s wrong?” Zev asked.