by Set Wagner
I arrived at the meeting a few minutes before the agreed time, but Chuks was already there, standing stiffly in the middle of the field. He didn’t move even when I approached and stopped in front of him. Only his eyes responded, emerging from beneath the forehead membrane and bowing down toward me stiffly. In their sclera blazed crimson reflections of the rising of Shidexa along with the twisted reflection of my own face.
“Chuks!” The enthusiastic voice of the Yusian pierced my ear. “Am Chuks again!”
“Really?” I murmured, while trying to overcome the paralyzing power of his gaze.
He generously gave me some time to come to my senses and then draped himself over the pink grass. I sat next to him.
“We need to talk, Chuks.”
“Oh! You look to be for change,” he concluded. “But Ter, talk not carry guarantee for to hit the mark. Precise only if can slot us together!”
As usual, both his words and his inappropriately hearty tone dulled my ability to understand him. I smiled and spoke jokingly. “A slot, a slot. Personally speaking, I need something much wider.”
“Why? You not enlarged,” Chuks remarked with friendly disagreement. “Detect you shrunk now. Not proportionally.”
I turned harshly to him. “And how much have you ‘shrunk,’ Yusian? You watched yesterday’s unfortunate events with great curiosity, knowing full well whom I was following—unlike me. Yet you did nothing to stop me!”
The creature thickened the folds of skin around his “throat,” apparently to emit a sharp noise. But he didn’t. Instead, he relaxed his body and waited for me to continue the dangerous topic. The cracks around the mobile bone supporting the organ that controlled his balance widened, releasing rivulets of excess moisture from his body. The view wasn’t pleasant. I was tempted to move away but resisted and remained where I was, waiting for him as well.
“Decision to assert ourselves separate from behavior details,” he finally said. “Not a touching point us together so comment only under strict discretion.”
“Does that mean you consider the murder of a woman just a detail of my behavior?”
“Yes!” Chuks gladly confirmed.
Until that moment I had hoped for clear and straightforward answers, but this one made me feel very uneasy. I shrugged my shoulders. “You’re wrong.” I immediately added, “Besides, I’m sure you know who killed Fowler and—”
“But our knowledge closed,” Chuks interrupted me politely.
“How long will this ‘closed’ continue?”
“No ending.”
“Even if the numbers increase?” I tried to imply the likelihood of this.
“Yes,” Chuks repeated. “We possess indifference potential.”
Or, in plain English, Feel free to kill one another, humans. We won’t turn anyone in.
“Good for you,” I said between clenched teeth. “And you probably expect me to offer my personal thanks too?”
The creature seemed to take my question literally and started to consider whether or not I should thank them. I tried to bear his nonsense but lost my patience. “Goddamn it! What do you and your kind think we are, Chuks? And what do you call ‘indifference’? Are you trying to turn us into monsters? Is that it?”
“No, no!” he started protesting. “We with no ‘trying.’”
“Oh, stop it! You used that miserable woman as a guinea pig—”
This time Chuks did let out his sharp noise, after which I responded with one more “Goddamn it!” We probably wouldn’t have stopped there if the appearance of the strange Yusian hadn’t interrupted us. I had chosen the place and time for our meeting precisely to coincide with his daily walk, but when he came along his usual route, I did my best to look astonished.
“Ha! One of your kind is coming this way.”
“Not merge yet.” Chuks rose eagerly. “His world almost vague as yours through our perceptions.”
“So he’s from another world?” I was excited. “Another planet in the Yusian system?”
Chuks didn’t even seem to hear me. He was swaying back and forth while apparently trying to follow some complicated rhythm. The dark membrane flapped over his eyes, and his upper limbs shrank and sank into the side clefts of his torso. There followed something that reminded me of breathing, while under the cover of his space suit shimmered the colorful zones that had amazed me with their iridescence during our walk in the starship.
The strange Yusian stopped close to us and for some reason started to duplicate Chuks’s movements. He was doing them somehow in slow motion and clumsily as if trying to imitate each action but not quite succeeding. Chuks slowly approached him. While I was wondering whether to go near them, the strange Yusian started to swell up. He became unrecognizable, looking deformed, and from his central zone shot bright-green bolts of lightning, one after another. At the first bolt, Chuks jumped away with surprising quickness, especially considering his enormous bulk.
“What’s he doing?” I called out.
“Deviates into mental pictures!” Chuks “explained,” shouting back at me before leaping again, clearly frightened.
I smiled maliciously, but when the strange Yusian, retaining this new shape and power, started walking toward the defractor, he frightened me as well. “Stop him!” I yelled at Chuks.
“No! Is activated and to stop does great harm.”
“But otherwise he will harm us! He may—detonate something in the complex!”
Without responding, Chuks followed the strange Yusian from a distance. I could do nothing but follow as well, but the two nonhumanoids, in some inexplicable way, started sliding ahead and quickly, very quickly, drifted away.
I rushed after them but didn’t reach them until they were already maneuvering the concrete surface between separate sectors of the defractor. Or, to be more precise, I reached only Chuks, and together we continued that ridiculous chase.
Propelled by anxiety, I soon made the mistake of taking the lead and found myself too close to the “deviates into mental pictures” creature. We had reached the east wing of a low round building, and he was forced to stop there, pressed against the wall. He had only partially returned to his original shape. Through his space suit, which was thinning into transparency, clusters of colorful, crackling sparkles ominously shot out in feverish succession.
In this situation, of course, I also stopped. I had no other choice or, if I did, couldn’t guess what it was. Unfortunately, the strange Yusian realized my confusion and immediately took advantage of it. He turned aside and passed a few centimeters from me, giving me a very uncomfortable electric shock.
I remained there, staring at him through bleary eyes. The bastard had hidden his own eyes but still managed to head straight for the entrance to the east wing. He rushed inside.
I waited impatiently for Chuks.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “Are you hesitating on purpose?”
“Yes!” He passed by me and headed for the entrance.
I swore silently but finally followed him. We crossed the east wing and entered the main building. Its serpentine shape was about four meters wide and wound around at least to the middle. Because of this, as we moved the strange Yusian sometimes disappeared and then appeared again before our eyes—well, actually before my eyes, since Chuks had also decided to rely on other, probably more reliable, senses.
Through the serpentine corridor ran a metal conveyor belt with many different tools along its length. In the semidarkness, I could only recognize the gas condensers stationed above the conveyor and what looked like parts of an engine system, which luckily was turned off. I stopped near a power box and found the light switch. When I switched it on, the glare of white neon only increased the tension.
“Hey, Chuks!” I called ahead but received no answer. I started running down the belt, my footsteps echoing behind me, and caught a glimpse of him squeezing through two movable thermoregulating panels hanging down at an angle from the ceiling. When I reache
d them, I slowed down, no longer needing to hurry because the serpentine belt was nearing its end. I looked around more calmly and finally figured out that we were in a laboratory for treating organic material. I recognized the X-ray equipment, the cylinders with nozzles for experimental supplements and the bioflotation membranes. However, as with the whole complex, this too impressed me with its totally indescribable wastefulness, its irrational extravagance.
While racing through this final section, which was entirely straight, the strange Yusian and Chuks accelerated like two sprinters dashing toward the finish line of a sparkling metal speedway. At the end of the laboratory was a raised platform and, near it, an elevator apparently used for transport to an underground extension. The Yusians had almost reached it, and now, watching from a comfortable distance, I was astonished by their incredible speed.
Their lower parts were flattened to increase the area and ensure a close contact with the surface of the floor, hiding their own movements and giving the illusion that they rode some invisible skateboard that carried them forward. Only the convulsive spasms of the hypertrophied muscles that stretched down the length of their backs and the related bristling of their spiny fringe, which lay flat when they were not moving, revealed to me that the Yusians were actually propelling themselves by continuous bodily vibrations.
When the strange Yusian reached the end of the belt, he increased his speed, surrounding himself with a firework display of lightning and sparkles, and then jumped up onto the platform. Chuks tried to stop but failed and crashed into the edge of the platform, splitting his front layers. While he was connecting them again, the strange Yusian returned to the belt and began rushing back down it. Meanwhile, I felt a strange shifting under my feet. By then, Chuks had already turned around and immediately started chasing the strange Yusian. I dropped my hands and stepped back for them to pass me, but they never even reached me.
The belt began trembling and then started rocking. A menacing creaking and rattling resound from the walls. Then came total chaos. Everything around us was shaking. I doubled over with pain, every cell in my body shaking as well. The strange Yusian slid down to the floor in agony. Nothing remained of his lightning-like “mental pictures.” Chuks was behind him, trying to regain his own balance, and tried desperately to reach him. Then he gave up.
He started jumping up and down, falling two or three times but somehow managing to get up each time and resume his crazy bouncing. I stared at him astonished, but then something clicked, and I started to jump as well. Our only chance was to take advantage of the extreme elasticity of the metal beneath us. We would probably never have stopped its trembling except by this simple, primitive response.
Soon the situation was normal again, and I figured out what had really happened. The Yusians had transferred their bodily vibrations to the conveyor belt, and later, when they rushed backward, the frequency of the vibrations assumed by it and the frequency of these new vibrations they were causing had coincided to make the system resonate with a rapidly increasing amplitude. If Chuks, who weighed about a ton and aided somewhat by me, hadn’t taken such measures to counter the vibrations, the whole building might have collapsed.
I stepped with trembling feet toward the strange Yusian, who was lying on the floor. Chuks was already there and lifting him carefully. I helped him as much as my human strength allowed. After we carried him outside, I realized that this was the first time I had ever touched an alien. I sensed something slippery on my hands, something coating my skin with—who knows what? My fingers began to stiffen. These feelings were entirely subjective, I knew very well, but I was still repulsed by them!
“Was—a little worried,” Chuks declared while we were retreating from the defractor together with the subdued strange Yusian.
Despite my condition, I couldn’t help but smile at his use of such a human, inadequate phrase: “a little worried.” Come on! He was entirely out of his mind with fear. I saw him, didn’t I? Then I remembered our ridiculous jumping on that crazy band, and suddenly my soul was floating. So it seems that even this Yusian is prone to human failings, I thought to myself. Probably he also acts foolish, quite often even. Just like me, for example.
“What was he trying to do?” I pointed at the strange Yusian discreetly.
“Same we all try. But is also doing it.” Chuks spoke in a serious tone completely different from his usual histrionic politeness. “Pours his emphasis. With no considerations.”
I sighed, accepting to a certain point our mutual lack of understanding. I silently accompanied the Yusians back to where we had met. Before saying good-bye I asked, “Chuks, tell me, why do you insist so much on establishing this colony?”
He was solicitously wrapping his limbs around the depressed strange Yusian, who was swaying moodily. “Will be final sign,” he answered quietly. “Sign for something else coming, coming.” He had lowered his voice to a barely comprehensible whisper.
“What is coming?” I felt stunned with a vague horror. “What is that ‘something else’?”
Chuks started walking through the alien pink grass. His powerful breathing warmed the air around him, stirring it like a lacy veil, thin as a spider’s web. The strange Yusian followed.
“What is coming, Chuks?” I murmured, staring at their alien figures. “What!”
“Not known.” His words reached me as quietly as if I had only thought them.
I was left alone.
Chapter 23
From the base I contacted Larsen, and before I could ask for an appointment, he demanded that I come to the research field to meet him. “Right now!” he added and hung up.
He was in a foul mood and made no attempt to disguise it when he saw me. No greeting, not even a nod of his head. He waited until I exited the shuttle and, still silent, walked away. I didn’t move. He took a few more steps and then stopped.
“Come here!” he commanded.
“You seem to be looking for a fight.”
“That’s right.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Let’s start then. No time like the present.”
“And I don’t want to hear any more of your sarcasm!”
“As I won’t tolerate your drill sergeant behavior,” I countered.
Larsen bit his lip, measuring me, fury in his eyes. “All right,” he finally snapped and started walking again.
I followed him.
“I’ve been working here for seven months now,” he reminded me when I caught up with him. “Seven months. Nonstop.”
I cast a glance at the wreckage of the Yusian machine as we passed it. “What about the results?” I asked sympathetically. “Are they good?”
“Both good and bad. More importantly, they do exist. Do you follow me?”
“I do,” I confirmed.
He stopped again and turned toward me. “So why do you want to ruin everything?”
We were standing next to another Yusian machine, similar to the one that somebody programmed yesterday to grind stones. The cuts on its front showed that Larsen had been busy studying exactly this one.
“Do you want to ruin everything?” he repeated.
“No, not everything.”
“Who gave you the right to judge what should or should not be ruined!”
“I don’t need anybody’s permission,” I answered. “I’m led only by personal convictions.”
“When did you manage to acquire them?”
“While I was still on Earth. I then strengthened them in the starship, and here on Eyrena they became unshakable.”
“They are directed against establishing the colony, I presume.”
“The way it’s been planned, yes.”
“Do you think that other methods might work?”
“Just one.”
“What is it?”
“To colonize the planet with normal people in normal human towns among normal Earth flora. With no stipulations about thirty years of isolation or anything like that. Also, to establish normal relations wit
h the Yusians.”
“With that last condition, you totally disgrace yourself, Simon. It shows that you are not only an amateur but also naive.”
“Well, you’re entitled to your own opinion,” I noted indifferently.
Larsen ran his palm across his forehead. It was still difficult for him not to snap at me, but obviously his irritation was subsiding. His face returned to its usual expression of austere reticence.
“I’m not going to argue with you,” he said, deciding, “but I will tell you that what happened today should never be repeated. Under any circumstances.”
“What happened?”
“You know perfectly well—your meeting with the Yusians.”
“You’re overstepping your authority now, Larsen. Don’t forget that I am accountable only to the agency that I represent here, not to you.”
“To a certain extent you are.”
Unfortunately, he was right. I was already far out of bounds—I remembered Odesta Gomez’s dead eyes staring up at me. I sighed wearily.
“There really is no point in arguing, Larsen. But the fact remains that I am here to find out who killed Fowler and Stein, so some of my actions are likely to inconvenience you.”
“You didn’t mention Odesta, Inspector.” Larsen stared me down without blinking. “Aren’t you going to look for her killer as well?”
“I expect it to be the same person.” I met his gaze without flinching.
He was the first to look down. “I’ve got something like—a study next to the construction area,” he said. “Come with me.”
We set out. Compared to the luxurious accommodations the Yusians had built at the base, or to the lavish and elaborate defractor, the base commander’s quadrant seemed shabby and squalid. Mostly open area, it resembled an uneven concrete parking lot. The few pieces of equipment and instruments sent from Earth were all weather beaten and run down. The storage units and what Larsen called “the construction area” turned out to be ramshackle panel buildings with flimsy facades.
“You certainly have poor working conditions for your research activities,” I remarked, having learned from experience that the most reliable, perhaps the only, key to the hearts of the people here was to refer to the hardships they had to endure in working on Eyrena.