The Chaos Chronicles

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  *

  They had to wait a while to learn the answer to that question. Bandicut was about ready to give up and go to sleep to postpone the issue, when a Neri swimmer appeared at the bottom of the bubble. He appeared to be towing something. The Neri made a wiping motion across the underside of the floor, and a shadowy circle appeared. A moment later, he pushed his head up through the floor, looked from Ik to Bandicut, and lifted himself into the bubble. He reached back down through the floor and pulled in two boxlike objects on tethers, one large and one small. He set the smaller one aside, and tilted the larger one. Water poured out of the box and drained out through the membrane in the bottom of the habitat, as if by magic.

  Bandicut watched in amazement, wondering if Earth's technology could ever have done that.

  The Neri opened the box's lid and indicated a round opening. He pointed, squawked briefly at Ik and Bandicut, and set it down on the floor of the habitat. Bandicut stared at the box, then at the Neri. "What the hell is that?" he said. "A portajohn?"

  The Neri didn't answer, but made a hand gesture from below its waist into the box. Apparently that was exactly what it was. Bandicut scowled, but had to admit that it was a lot better than going for a swim to relieve himself.

  The Neri turned to the other box. It opened with a hiss; it had been sealed. He took out several smaller objects wrapped in what looked like large leaves. With a glance at his prisoners, the Neri unwrapped the objects. They appeared to be fruit: yellow, translucent, crescent-shaped wedges like waxy, oversized orange segments.

  Bandicut felt his eyes widening with hunger, and unease. He wondered if he dared try it.

  /// What th'hell, ///

  murmured the quarx, speaking up for the first time in a while.

  /You know what this is?/

  /// Naw, but what do you want to do?

  Starve? ///

  Bandicut blinked. He looked at the Neri and made a hand-to-mouth gesture. "Food? To eat?" he asked. When the Neri merely stared at him, he asked, "What is your name?"

  The Neri stood straighter, and as if he had finally gained the self-assurance to try speaking to aliens, said in a voice that had a gargling resonance, "I am Hargel. I will provide for your needs, for now."

  "Hargel," Bandicut said. "Pleased to meet you. How long are we to be kept here?"

  Hargel rubbed his thumbs and fingers together, in what seemed a nervous gesture. "This . . . food . . . should meet your needs. Please tell me if your needs are different." He handed one fruit to Bandicut, and another to Ik. He drew his hands back as if afraid to touch the visitors.

  Bandicut accepted the offering, hoping that Hargel would answer his question. But the Neri simply turned away. Then, as though in afterthought, he brought one more thing out of the smaller box. It was a convex disk about the size of Bandicut's hand, balanced on a small base. He set it down, removed a small hammer from the base, and struck the disk. A bonging sound rang through the bubble.

  "If you need assistance," said Hargel, "ring three times."

  Ik spoke, haltingly, giving Bandicut the sense that the Hraachee'an's stones were working hard to produce Neri speech. "You . . . will . . . hear?"

  "We will hear," Hargel said. He bent and touched the floor, and with one smooth movement plunged headfirst through the membrane and into the water. There was no splash, and almost no sound.

  Ik and Bandicut looked at each other.

  "I guess I'll try the fruit," Bandicut said.

  "Hrah. I guess I'll try the portable—"

  "Right," said Bandicut.

  *

  The fruit tasted like a combination of lime, mango, and a third taste he could not identify. Bandicut nibbled, his back turned to Ik, and peered out at the Neri city. He was finally beginning to relax enough to absorb the sight. He saw Neri moving through the water, but mostly at the limits of visibility. He thought he saw some smaller figures and he wondered, were those the young, the females, or someone else altogether?

  "Hrrm," said Ik, joining him. "It works fine."

  Bandicut looked up. "Glad to hear it. Are you going to try some of this fruit?"

  Ik eyed the piece that Hargel had given him.

  "It tastes pretty good, and I haven't keeled over yet."

  "Hrah. That is encouraging." Ik nibbled at the fruit, then took larger bites.

  "Ik, do you think we should put our stones together and let them do a linguistic exchange? It might help you talk to the Neri a little more easily."

  "Yes," Ik said. "That is a good idea." He took another bite. His fruit was nearly gone.

  "You must have been hungry." Bandicut set his own aside to finish later; it was only half eaten, but it had satisfied his appetite.

  Ik finished his fruit, then sat, and Bandicut crouched before him and raised his hands. Ik pressed Bandicut's wrists close to his temples. The four stones pulsed. Bandicut felt a buzzing sensation in his mind, now familiar, as his stones joined with Ik's, transferring knowledge . . .

  *

  A wave of dizziness came over Bandicut, as the link dissolved. He swayed, feeling a great heaviness, then sank to the floor. He was nearly overcome with fatigue.

  "John Bandicut, are you—?"

  He gave a hand gesture to wave off Ik's concern. But he couldn't answer. He felt a strong, tingling preoccupation among his stones, a feeling that they were working hard to assimilate the information they had just received. They had been through a lot today, and they didn't want to have to explain just now. /Did we just download a lot of Hraachee'an background?/

  /// Yep. Ik can speak Neri now,

  and you're going to know what makes

  Ik tick. ///

  Bandicut blinked, trying to clear his mind. /I am?/

  /// Well, the stones will.

  Close enough. ///

  Bandicut sighed. He wanted desperately to close his eyes and put all of this out of his head for a while.

  "Hrah," Ik murmured. "If it is all the same with you, I would like to meditate in sleep now. Will that disturb you?"

  "Only in my dreams, Ik. Only in my dreams."

  As Ik sat motionless, Bandicut stretched out on the floor of the bubble. It gave slightly under his weight, and was actually fairly comfortable. In due course he fell into a sound sleep.

  Chapter 6

  Powers Within

  BANDICUT AWOKE TO to a rumbling sort of bark from the far side of the bubble. In the moment it took him to remember where he was, the sound became more like a groan. Then he recognized its source. It was Ik, and he was in distress.

  "Ik, what's wrong?" he called hoarsely, peering through the gloom at his friend. It seemed darker than it had been before; many of the Neri habitats were dimmer, casting less light.

  It was several seconds before Ik could speak. The words were nearly indecipherable. "Hurt . . . ball . . . center . . ." But where words failed, the translator-stones seemed to grasp the Hraachee'an's tones. Bandicut realized that Ik was suffering from terrible . . . kairenkroff pain. Stomach pain.

  Illness? Bandicut wondered. Or food poisoning?

  Bandicut felt his own stomach knot with worry. He took a quick internal inventory to see if he felt any symptoms himself. As far as he could tell, he felt fine. But Ik had eaten more, and faster.

  The quarx stirred.

  /// What is it? The fruit? ///

  /I don't know. We're supposed to be normalized. We're supposed to be able to eat the food here./

  /// Maybe his normalization was faulty. ///

  Bandicut crouched close to Ik. "Is it the food you ate? Are you having a bad reaction?"

  Ik's eyes flickered, but their internal light was dim, like fading embers. "Hrrrrrr, yes," he managed finally. He was holding himself with both hands, right about where a human's diaphragm would have been.

  /What can we do? If it were me, I'd have you trying to fix it./

  /// If I knew how, you mean. ///

  That stopped him for a moment. /If your predecessors could, you should be ab
le to./

  /// Maybe. But that was them.

  This is me. ///

  Bandicut watched Ik, jarred by what seemed indifference in the quarx's voice. /Well, would you mind trying to learn what the other Charlies learned? It could mean the difference between life and death—for Ik now, for us maybe later./

  /// Lemme ask the stones. ///

  Bandicut waited, reaching out to touch Ik's arm. The Hraachee'an was shivering violently. /What do they say?/ he asked impatiently.

  Before Charlie could answer, something else interrupted Bandicut's thoughts—a shadow moving under the bubble. The membrane-circle appeared in the floor, and a Neri poked his head up into the bubble. In the gloom, he couldn't tell who it was. Then the Neri lifted himself into the habitat, and Bandicut saw the flicker on the side of his head. "Am I disturbing your rest?"

  "L'Kell! No—but my friend Ik is not well."

  "Volll?" said L'Kell, turning to look. "Why did you not ring the gong?"

  "I just woke up and found him this way. I think it was the food—I'm not sure what's wrong—but I don't think he can eat it." Bandicut turned, squinting. He thought his friend looked worse than he had a moment ago, greyer in the dim light.

  L'Kell muttered in puzzlement, "If you come from another world, do you not have ways to cope with such difficulties?"

  Bandicut felt helpless to explain. He didn't understand it himself; all he knew about normalization was that it worked. Usually.

  Ik spoke with great difficulty. "Something . . . about your world . . . or me . . . that the transformational field got wrong." He gasped air through his ears and rocked, holding his abdomen.

  Bandicut scowled with frustration and fear. /Charlie? Have you found out anything?/

  /// Well, the stones say they learned a lot about him.

  But they didn't cover Hraachee'an physiology. ///

  /But—damn it—can't they talk to Ik's stones?/

  Charlie seemed to go away again, and came back a few moments later.

  /// You've got to touch Ik's stones. ///

  Bandicut let out a slow breath. "Ik, my stones might be able to do something to help. Or the quarx." No point just now in trying to explain the quarx to L'Kell, who stirred with interest at that statement. "But they need to make contact again, to learn some things. Do you mind?"

  Ik's voice was a gasp. "What do you think, John Bandicut?"

  Bandicut managed a smile as he raised his wrists to Ik's head.

  *

  The link was broken after just a few seconds. By Charlie. Bandicut knew that something had been exchanged which his stones found helpful—and which made Charlie extremely uncomfortable. /What?/ he asked, rocking back on his haunches.

  /// What do you think?

  Now we've got the info, you're going to want me

  to go in and do the work.

  Right? ///

  /Well—/

  /// Of course you are.

  The stones can manipulate forcefields and

  all sorts of fancy things,

  but they're not experienced with low-level

  biological functions.

  That's why Ik's stones aren't healing him.

  You were just lucky. ///

  Bandicut blinked, wishing he could see better in the dark. L'Kell was watching him; Ik was in too much pain.

  /// Lucky to have me.

  I can mediate with the nervous system

  and shit like that,

  as long as the stones have the

  basic knowledge. ///

  Bandicut tried to suppress his annoyance. Nervous system and shit. /I'm glad you're willing to do it,/ he answered.

  /// I didn't say I was willing.

  I hate the whole idea. ///

  Bandicut closed his eyes. /So what are you saying?/

  /// Well . . .

  I guess I can't refuse, but— ///

  /But what?/

  /// Never mind.

  I guess we should just do it

  and be done with it. ///

  Bandicut hesitated. If Charlie felt a sense of revulsion at making intimate contact with another lifeform—even though he was already inside a human who was an alien . . .

  /// Look, let's get it over with, all right? ///

  Bandicut nodded and spoke to Ik. "Charlie thinks he can help you. If you're willing to try." Ik flicked his fingers in something like a shrug of helplessness. "Okay." Bandicut glanced at L'Kell. "This might take a little while. I don't know if it's going to work."

  The Neri said nothing, but crouched down to watch.

  Bandicut carefully touched the side of Ik's head with his fingertips. The curves of the alien's head felt bony and smooth, like ivory. Bandicut felt a tingle, and a slight rush . . .

  . . . and then a sudden wave of nausea . . .

  *

  Pulsing of blood, murmur of hydraulics, roar of bubbling air and roiling chemicals. The stench of activity was overwhelming . . .

  He moved on, somehow, without moving at all. He had to pick his way through a vast and convoluted system, peering out from his virtual presence in the alien nervous system to locate leverage points from which the changes could be introduced into the system. It felt like an invasion of Ik's privacy; he had no real idea what he was doing at all. Guided by the unseen influence of the stones, he/Charlie found their way to a deeper place, where spasming nerve endings were triggering great rushes of inflammatory chemicals. And there they found a promontory and stood fast as waves of pain rose up from a sea of mingling ions and dashed over him like breakers on a restless ocean. And the breakers seemed to be growing stronger, threatening to consume them, threatening to consume their host, Ik, and drown him forever.

  Bandicut/Charlie stood there in jangling confusion, listening as wordless voices carried messages up and down the surrounding array. Somewhere within, they were listening and measuring, assessing the hidden causes of this maelstrom, searching out solutions, balancing risk against possible benefits. At last, without conscious thought or understanding, they stretched out both hands—like a wizard from an old tale, raising a staff in incantation. Fire flashed from his hands, flickering, then brightening into two shafts of steady luminescence playing over the troubled sea below. It was the sea of Ik's neurotransmitters, the sea of chemicals that surged within his body, the sea of impulses that merged to become his body's responses to its environment. The shafts of light carried information and instructions down into the sea, and the sea began to change, but slowly. He sensed it in the air: a shift in the salt breeze from a bitter, metallic tang to something sweeter and more aromatic. The sea began to grow quieter.

  He knew that everything he saw here was not a view but a metaphor, an interpretation; but it was no less real for that. They were making changes in Ik's digestive subsystems— programming changes, fine-tuning something that the normalization had altered but not gotten quite right. He had enough comprehension to be grateful that the changes required were small. And even if he did not understand them, his stones—and Ik's stones—were beginning to. Even so, they labored a long time, weaving their changes, coaxing the system to correct itself. And then he watched, Charlie watched, the stones watched as the seas began to glow from within and turned into a gently rippling, clear lake.

  And then he felt the nausea of disorientation once more, and his foothold slipping away . . . and felt himself spinning back into his own body.

  He sat back with a lurch, struggling for breath.

  "Hrrraahhh—" gasped Ik, drawing his own breath with a sharp rasp. "What did you do, I feel—I am much more—"

  /// Don't thank me, but don't ever ask me

  to do something like that again, ///

  Charlie wheezed, interrupting.

  Bandicut drew in a ragged lungful of air and tried to bring his reeling thoughts into focus. He blinked, and forced a grin. Ik was sitting upright, touching his abdomen with murmurs of wonderment. "John Bandicut—I am—"

  "Did it work? Are you better?" he whispe
red.

  "You have done it!" the Hraachee'an marveled. "My pain is nearly gone."

  Beside him, L'Kell was rising and turning. "You do have the power to heal, then! Why did you say—?"

  But the rest of L'Kell's words were lost as a wave of fatigue came over Bandicut and he fell over in a dead faint.

  *

  "I don't think there's any way to know."

  "Then we must talk when he awakes."

  It was the sound of Ik's and L'Kell's voices that brought him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes, struck by Ik's calm. He pushed himself upright.

  "John Bandicut!" cried Ik. "Are you all right?"

  He grunted, remembering what he had just been through.

  /// Remember it well, ///

  Charlie whispered ominously, deep inside him.

  /// And understand why

  you should never expect me to do that again. ///

  Bandicut groped for understanding. Why was the quarx so determinedly unhappy about this? He had helped save Ik, possibly from a fatal poisoning. All Bandicut could capture was a maelstrom of unidentifiable feelings in Charlie which seemed in the aggregate to amount to a combination of revulsion and . . . unworthiness. What the hell? Why would Charlie feel unworthy?

  "John Bandicut. Was it you, or your quarx, that I sensed—?" Ik gestured vaguely with one hand.

  Bandicut answered with a hoarse voice. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Charlie was there, along with the stones. But I was there, too." As he focused on the memories, he realized that while the quarx had reacted with revulsion, his own reaction was a deepened sense of empathy with his friend, as a result of sharing his pain.

  Ik sighed through his ears. "Well, I thank you. But what did you do?"

  Bandicut opened his mouth, but found it hard to answer. Finally he mumbled, "Well, we . . . readjusted something in your inner control system. Somehow."

  "Is this becoming a specialty of yours?" Ik asked, and Bandicut heard the silent chuckle. "I did not know you could do it in people as well as machines."

  "Neither did I," Bandicut admitted.

  L'Kell made a husky sound. Bandicut knew exactly what the Neri was thinking. "You want to know if I can do the same thing with your people."