The Starfarers Quartet Omnibus

by Vonda N. McIntyre

  To J.D.’s surprise, to her gratitude, even Ruth Orazio rose to back her up.

  Soon only a few people remained sitting.

  “You must return to Earth,” Senator Derjaguin said sadly, knowing they would not.

  “I’m sorry, Senator,” J.D. said. “Gerald, please, don’t break consensus. Won’t you join us?”

  “Come on, Gerald,” Fox said.

  “I cannot,” the acting chancellor replied. He did not look at Fox.

  “Are you blocking?”

  “I have no wish,” he said, “to repeat the humiliation of being ignored. I abstain.”

  All she could think of to say was, “Thank you.”

  “Shall we sail to the Farther worlds?” sailmaster Jenny Dupre asked. “Or is Nautilus going too, with us in orbit?”

  “Wait — !”

  J.D. turned toward Infinity Mendez, startled by his outburst.

  “I keep telling you,” he said. He paused for a moment, uncomfortable as always when he was the center of attention. When he spoke again he had forced his voice to a tense calm. “We can’t move Starfarer anymore. Not this soon. The ecosystem’s got to have some stability.”

  “The sun mirrors —” Avvaiyar said.

  She let her eyelids flicker, touching Arachne for a moment. J.D. did the same, and saw the same pattern.

  Distressed, J.D. sank to the terrace.

  “I see,” Avvaiyar said. “You’re right.”

  “Yes,” J.D. said. “I’m sorry, Infinity, you did tell us, and we didn’t pay you enough attention.”

  “It isn’t something I’m happy to point out,” he said.

  At the Farther worlds’ distance from 61 Cygni, the mirrors should have been sufficient to maintain the stability of the weather. First, though, the weather had to recover its equilibrium. Arachne could not predict exactly what would happen if Starfarer moved farther from 61 Cygni. A dangerous number of possibilities involved the same destructive extremes that the starship had barely survived.

  Esther Klein made an exasperated noise.

  “We don’t have to take Starfarer,” she said. “Did the invitation say we had to take Starfarer? Leave it in orbit around Largernearer!”

  “Can you fly us to Largerfarther in the transport?” J.D. asked “Are you up to it?”

  “I am,” Esther said. “The transport’s not — not enough range. But you have Nautilus. There’s Europa’s starship. We could even send a delegation on the Four Worlds ship if they’d take us, or put our stuff in the transport and dock it with the Four Worlds ship and camp out in it.”

  “Any of that would work,” J.D. said. “Sure it would!” A tendril of worry twisted around the idea of splitting up the expedition. She pushed it away.

  Esther faced J.D. squarely. “If we go on Nautilus — I could be your relief pilot.”

  J.D. had not gotten as far as considering a backup pilot for Nautilus, but Esther’s idea was sound. J.D.’s control through the knowledge surface was nothing preternatural.

  But it could be risky, too, J.D. thought. If Esther knows how to fly it, would she take it? Could they force her to take Nautilus from me?

  Esther gazed at her, all blunt courage and hope.

  “It isn’t straightforward,” J.D. said. “There are changes... But, if you want, we’ll talk about it.”

  “That’s all I ask.” Esther’s voice was a little uneven. “Thanks.”

  “J.D.,” Professor Thanthavong said, “would you invite our Four Worlds guests to join the meeting?

  J.D. closed her eyes and flowed through her link to Quickercatcher, to Late, to Orchestra’s AI, to the Minoans. She reached beyond them to Orchestra herself, to the Smallernearer.

  Quickercatcher’s presence mirrored his physical being, allure surrounding a straightforward, sturdy core. Late had shrugged off his usual lethargic attitude; he bubbled with excitement.

  “I have news, J.D.!” he said. “Good news!”

  Quite a change, J.D. thought, after just one adventure.

  “I do, too,” she said. “Will you and the quartet please join the meeting, so we can accept your invitation?”

  A second later, Orchestra’s response returned from the surface of Largernearer. She gave J.D. the gift of a slow, powerful tide of approval.

  The Smallernearer said nothing, but only watched and waited, time-lagged by the distance.

  “This is wonderful.” Quickercatcher’s pleasure glowed around J.D.

  “Please come into the amphitheater,” she said. “We’ll share our good news.”

  Sharphearer’s fluorescent fur glowed at the mouth of the tunnel. J.D. could make out the pure white of Andro’s kilt. An incongruous thought floated through J.D.’s mind: I wonder how he keeps the pleats so sharp.

  Quickercatcher led the group from the entry tunnel, his fur changing from grayed purple in the darkness to soft mauve in the light. Fasterdigger was harder to see, his brown and orange spots camouflaging him in the dark; Europa’s homespun skirt and vest had the same effect. Longestlooker’s black-on-black pelt kept her invisible until she strode fully into the light. Orchestra’s AI accompanied them, appearing, disappearing, expanding, then contracting to miniature size.

  The representatives of Civilization walked down the ramp into the amphitheater. Late rode Sharphearer, holding on with his back half, waving his forward edge, ratcheting his teeth; two of Europa’s meerkats clutched the fur of Fasterdigger’s forward shoulders.

  J.D. rose to greet them.

  “We accept your kind invitation,” J.D. said. “We’ll visit the Farther worlds. We accept the responsibility of being members of the interstellar civilization.”

  Europa came to her and embraced her, and Quickercatcher nudged her arm with his nose. A trill of happiness began. The sound expanded; it became music. The Largerfarthings trilled their pleasure, each a different note. The harmonics beat and blended. Short of breath from joy, J.D. laughed.

  “We all have news,” Longestlooker said. “You next, Late,” Sharphearer said, “yours is next most important.”

  Late twisted his wide, flat body, orienting himself toward J.D.

  “I have been promoted,” he said.

  “Congratulations,” J.D. said. “What happened?”

  “The Representative has proven himself!” Late exclaimed. “Did I tell you that he would? I did! The Eldest has given him leave to start his own line.”

  J.D. glanced at Europa, uncertain how to react. What Late had told her was that the Representative had failed.

  The Minoan smiled quizzically.

  “Think of it as bestowing a title of nobility,” Europa said. “The Eldest gave the Representative’s line more territory, resources... and breeding rights. Late will metamorphose.”

  “I’ll succeed the Representative,” Late said. He arched his back, exposing his spines.

  “So the Representative’s risk paid off,” J.D. said. “Even though he failed.”

  “Risk has many results,” Late said. “The result you didn’t foresee might be the most valuable. There is no failure, just different outcomes.”

  It was a viewpoint J.D. had not considered before. She would have to think about it later, when she had time and quiet. When she was on board Nautilus.

  “I’m glad for you,” J.D. said. “Though it’s a pity this couldn’t have happened before the Representative injured Esther.”

  The pilot sat with Infinity and Florrie, watching the encounter in silence. Though she acted neither frightened nor angry, Esther kept her distance.

  “It wouldn’t have happened otherwise!” Late said. “Not hurting her, I don’t mean hurting her.” He twisted the other way, opening his edges toward Esther. “We regret your damage, and we’ll compensate you.” He turned back to J.D. “But of course, J.D.,” he said earnestly, “human beings heal, so it isn’t as if the damage had happened to a Smallerfarthing.”

  J.D. made a sound of disbelief, a sound that even she could not distinguish between a laugh and a sob.


  “I don’t understand you at all,” she said. “And I know this means a lot to you, but to me it would mean being trapped in a tiny room for the rest of my life.”

  “Yes. Yes! Bliss.” He added quickly, “Though I did enjoy my adventure.”

  J.D. expected more explanation, but Late hunkered down on Sharphearer’s back, rippling contentedly. Sharphearer patted Late’s dappled fur, smoothing it around the spines.

  “We have news as well,” Longestlooker said. “News for Crimson.”

  The Largerfarthing moved sinuously to look across the terraces at the sculptor. Near the bottom of the amphitheater’s bowl, Crimson sat crosslegged next to Avvaiyar.

  “What is it?” Crimson asked.

  “The Farther worlds want to help you. We have experience, exploring alien sites. We’ve equipped an expedition with modern excavation equipment. It’s coming to join the dig.”

  As Gerald opened his mouth to speak, Crimson jumped up and spread her arms in exultation.

  “That’s wonderful!” she said. “An official joint interstellar excavation!”

  “Longestlooker,” Gerald said, “this is very generous of the Farthings, but it’s hardly fair to take over Crimson’s project —”

  “But, Chancellor,” Quickercatcher said politely, “she’s already welcomed us.”

  Fasterdigger said, “We can learn from each other.”

  Sharphearer added, “She will want to come on one of our excavations, I know.”

  J.D. felt sorry for Gerald, caught in Crimson’s performance. She admired Crimson for throwing herself into it so fully, for having the self-confidence to expose her sculptures to the floodlight of the Four Worlds’ technology and experience.

  She wondered what it would be like to go on an archaeological excavation to a true alien site.

  “Longestlooker,” J.D. said, “who’s coming to visit us from the Farther worlds? Are they paleontologists? Or artists?”

  Longestlooker bared her teeth at J.D., as if trying to smile like a human being.

  “Why, J.D., they are paleontologists, to Crimson, but if you like, to you, they will be artists.” She lightened the effect of her bared teeth by closing her eyes, outer corners to inner.

  “It’s a good idea, Chancellor Hemminge,” Europa said. “We mustn’t take the risk of missing anything — no offense to Crimson, but she’s never excavated an alien site before.”

  “I’m not taking offense,” Crimson said. “But I will if you don’t accept what I’ve been saying: I welcome the Farther worlds’ archaeologists.”

  “Is everything settled?” Androgeos asked. “Starfarer will proceed — ?”

  Someone started to explain to him why Starfarer had to stay behind. J.D. retired from the discussion; she and Zev joined Victoria, Satoshi, and Stephen Thomas. Victoria gave J.D. a quick, warm hug, and Stephen Thomas patted her fondly on the shoulder.

  “We did it,” J.D. said. “Somehow, we did it.”

  “We sure did,” Satoshi said. “You did.”

  “I’m going over to Nautilus,” J.D. said. She touched Arachne and sent a message through space to Kolya. A moment later his image appeared. Griffith hovered, ghostly, behind him.

  “Are you ready to escape from my rock?” J.D. said to Kolya, with an apologetic smile. “I’m truly sorry to have left you there so long.”

  “I don’t mind,” Kolya said. “But if you begin classes in Nautilus-flying, I’d like to attend.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Kolya, thank you.”

  His gaze shifted: Esther climbed the terraces toward them.

  “Hi, Kolya,” Esther said.

  J.D. heard a note in Esther’s voice that she had never perceived before, even when the pilot was talking to Infinity Mendez. Her voice carried tension, anticipation, potential.

  Kolya replied with a fond smile. His stripy eyebrows arched, and the smile-lines crinkled around his eyes.

  Esther grinned. “Look, I have another diamond.”

  The emerging diamond shard caught the light and refracted it across her opalescent palm. Esther plucked it out of the bandage compound, showed it around, and put the diamond in her pocket.

  “I’d be glad to run you over to Nautilus, any time,” she said.

  “I’d like to go now,” J.D. said.

  “Okay,” Esther said without hesitation. “I’ll check out the Chi. Are you guys ready to come home?” She spoke to Kolya, but included Griffith in her glance.

  The Chi could fly itself to Nautilus and back, but if Esther wanted to return to Nautilus, that was fine with J.D. Traveling alone on the Chi made her uncomfortable.

  Satoshi was gazing at the appealing group of Largerfarthings. Longestlooker reared, rising above all the humans. With serpentine grace, she dropped to all fours again.

  “I wonder if she knows,” Satoshi said.

  “Knows what?” Stephen Thomas said.

  “That Crimson’s an artist. That the fossils are a performance.”

  “If she knows,” J.D. said, “she’s an awfully good actor.”

  “The Farther worlds wouldn’t send a ship all the way across the system,” Victoria said, “for an art performance.” She hesitated. “Would they?”

  “I don’t know,” J.D. said. “But... that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?”

  “J.D., J.D.!” The voice came through J.D.’s link, and at the same time something twitched the cuff of her pants.

  Late reared up beside her, a third of his body rising from the ground.

  J.D. started, then collected herself.

  “I must pick up the Representative’s boat,” Late said. “My boat. It will be my home. Will you take me?”

  “Yes, I suppose,” she said. “But I’m leaving now. Sharphearer will have to take you to the dock. I won’t wait!”

  “J.D., this is most unlike you,” Late said, taken aback. “But I will do my best.”

  Late ruffled away, making a path for himself through the crowd of people with discreet pressure from his spines.

  “How long are you going to stay?” Victoria asked. “I want you along on the trip to the Farther worlds.”

  “I’ll be with you,” J.D. said. “But I’ll be on Nautilus.” The final decision had not yet been made about how the delegation from Starfarer would get to the Farther twin worlds. Whatever they decided, J.D. would follow. However fond she was of the Largerfarthings, however much she had come to respect Europa, she would neither let her friends split off from Starfarer alone, nor leave Nautilus behind.

  “All right,” Victoria said.

  J.D. hugged Victoria, and when they parted both Satoshi and Stephen Thomas embraced J.D. Satoshi kissed her cheek, then held her shoulders wordlessly. J.D. smiled. Stephen Thomas enfolded her and rested his forehead against her shoulder, as he had on the beach the day before.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  She drew back from him, as shy about him as ever. “I’m not going away forever,” she said.

  Her vision sparkling with happiness and sadness and anticipation, J.D. hurried out of the amphitheater.

  Chapter 13

  J.D. headed for the Chi. Zev strode along beside her, a bounce in his step.

  “How long are we going to be gone?” he said. “What should I bring? Can I leave my suit in the closet?”

  They left the amphitheater’s access tunnel, moving from cool shade to warm sun. Grass sprouted on the washed-out mud. In a warm and protected place a clump of scarlet tulips nodded softly in the breeze.

  “J.D.?” Zev said uncertainly.

  “Love, will you stay on Starfarer while I go?”

  “No! Why?” He stopped. “J.D.!”

  She kept going.

  He caught up to her. “I’d like to go along.”

  “You can join me soon. We might all go to the Farther worlds on Nautilus, together. But I want some time alone.”

  He silently, stubbornly, accompanied her up the hill.

  “There’s nothing there yet,�
�� she said. “No place to swim, no air —”

  “I know that,” he said stiffly.

  She stopped trying to cajole him, stopped trying to make up reasons why he would not want to go.

  “When you’re with me,” J.D. said, “my attention is always partly on you. No matter what else I’m doing, no matter what else I’m thinking about.”

  Zev grinned, pleased but not yet mollified.

  “When I go to Nautilus, I won’t have any attention to spare. I’ll be focused on the knowledge surface. I’ll hardly even be in my body. I’ll be...” She shrugged. “Somewhere else.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be there all alone.” Zev’s voice was troubled. “What if something happens?”

  “Nothing will happen. I was all alone before, and I was farther away.”

  “A lot farther.”

  On Nautilus, after Nemo died, she had been the only aware being in the Sirius system.

  “And I was okay.”

  “I can’t change your mind about this, can I?” Zev said.

  She held his hand. They climbed the slope, their steps growing longer and more buoyant.

  “No.”

  “I’ll miss you,” he said, resigned. “Every minute.”

  “I’ll miss you, too. I won’t be gone long.” She appreciated his maturity, his respect for what she asked of him.

  They passed the border between the rotating cylinder and the starship’s stationary axis. The last trace of gravity vanished. They pushed off into free-fall.

  “Do you think wings would work?” Zev said, as they eeled along from handhold to handhold.

  “Hmm?” J.D.’s mind was on Nautilus, her attention distracted by a brief narrow touch to the knowledge surface.

  “Just small ones.” Drifting down the corridor, he drew his right forefinger down the radial side of his left forearm. “Enough to pull you through the air. A few courses of feathers, or maybe another web...”

  “You could build —”

  “I didn’t mean build,” he said. “I meant grow.”

  They reached the Chi’s dock.

  Esther hovered in the hatchway. She turned herself right-side up in relation to J.D. and Zev.

  “Ready to go?”

  “I’m not waiting for —” J.D. did not know what to call Late any more. Was a nickname, however appropriate, proper for a Representative?