/// I am confused.
It is powerful, so powerful . . . ///
"John Bandicut, I feel it, it is a fine feeling, do not try to hide it. I cannot—" uuhhhl "—I must—but—" And hissing softly, Antares stopped trying to find words to explain, and finally touched his hands again and lowered her gaze.
He swallowed and murmured, "It's okay, yes. It's all right." And even though it wasn't exactly all right, he wanted it to be so, he wanted to feel those feelings, and he wanted this moment, which had not quite fully materialized, to last forever.
*
They slept below, all three in the one main living compartment, Antares and Bandicut lying close but not quite touching. Bandicut was aware of S'Cali getting up and moving quietly about several times during the night. Apparently he felt too uneasy to sleep, or felt he needed to keep checking on things, perhaps to make sure no landers were about. Some time past the middle of the night—real night, not the perpetual gloom of the deep—Bandicut awoke, aware of a pale light shining down through the ceiling of the habitat, through the surface of the water. He lay awhile, still half asleep, puzzling over the light. When he realized what it was, his eyes popped wide open, and he slipped quietly from his blankets and crept up the ladder to stand on deck.
It was not just one moon, but two, silver-grey, over the sea. They were smaller than Earth's moon, but heartstoppingly beautiful, crown jewels in the night sky, the higher one about three-quarters full and the other a delicate crescent not far above the horizon. He stared at them, entranced, listening to the sea lapping at the habitat. A splash distracted him, then several more: fish jumping, sparkling like foil in the moonlight. He smiled, and gazed up at the stars salted across the sky. No patterns were recognizable to him, no hint of familiar constellations. Not that he had expected any. The great milky river of the galactic disk, edge-on, crossed the western part of the sky. It was impossible to be sure, but he thought it looked bigger here than it had on Earth.
Was he closer to the galactic center? He didn't know, and it certainly made no practical difference; but the sight, charged by the reverberations of his joining with Antares, made him practically weep with homesickness. And at the same time, he felt a vast exhilaration in being here among the stars, first human to journey from the solar system, galactic wanderer, tossed on the tides of chaos and swept by the whim of forces he didn't know and couldn't understand. Friend to wonderful aliens. He wasn't sure that he would give it up, even if he could. But a heartbeat later, his thoughts wandered to Julie Stone, and he began to feel a very different kind of ache . . .
Julie, Julie . . .
His vision blurred, and his thoughts turned into a hopeless jumble—and when Antares appeared at his side, he nearly jumped. He felt her instant concern: "John Bandicut, are you all right?" She crouched close and he murmured back, "Yes yes, fine," and gestured an invitation to sit.
She joined him, looking at the moon and the stars, and he began to feel better. She turned a little away from him, but leaned against his shoulder in a comradely fashion. They were mostly silent. He found himself aware of what she was feeling— warmth and loneliness and uncertainty—even while caught up in his own feelings. Eventually Antares went below again, touching his hand in farewell, and he remained a little longer, shivering in the sea air but reluctant to give up his first night under the stars since their arrival on this world.
When he went below again and shivered into his blanket, both Antares and S'Cali were sound asleep.
*
The morning dawned grey and chilly. He could sense it even below the surface. When he went topside, he found Antares scanning the sky and the sea, which had considerably more chop to it than last night. She greeted him soberly. "S'Cali got a message that there may be an Astari ship headed this direction, so we need to keep a sharp watch. He wants to take us down soon."
Bandicut nodded glumly. He gazed at the fast-moving, low stratus clouds that were turning the world grey, and thought, Please, just one more good look at the sun before we go back under.
S'Cali called from the hatch, "We must depart. L'Kell's sub is almost to the salvage area. They were able to decompress more quickly than they expected. They want us to meet them."
Bandicut turned for one last look. He was rewarded by the sight of the clouds streaming apart and breaking momentarily to reveal one small section of sunlit sky, with a broad sunbeam slanting down over the ocean. He murmured a silent thanks, and followed Antares down the ladder.
S'Cali was busy disconnecting the power lines to the sub and straightening up the habitat. They gave him a hand, and watched as he worked the habitat controls. A sheet of fine bubbles billowed away from the sides of the habitat, and after a minute they began to sink. Looking up, they could see the surface slowly receding, until the overhead hatch was perhaps twenty meters below the surface. Then they boarded the sub.
As they fell away into the depths, the solar arrays seemed to drift upward like a vast, unfurled parachute floating on the wind. Soon they were moving at a steady cruise, with neither bottom nor surface in sight, just continuous blue water. S'Cali steered by some combination of instinct and Neri instrumentation. Bandicut thought of the potential confrontation that awaited, and took comfort in Antares' presence, though not without a tingle of wistfulness.
/// You will, in time,
explain these confused feelings to me,
won't you? ///
The quarx spoke with an earnestness that surprised him. Without saying anything more in words, she showed him her own confusion at the intensity of the emotions that she had shared with him, not just as an observer but as one who had personally touched Antares. She too felt a deepening bond with the Thespi woman, but was bewildered, caught up in Bandicut's feelings of sexual attraction.
And in truth, it was not just the attraction to Antares that had stirred Char's emotions, but the reminder of her aloneness in the universe. All of them here were cut off from their own worlds, probably forever, but Char alone believed that her people were probably extinct but for her. Even Ik, rescued from his homeworld's destruction, had reason to think that some of his fellow Hraachee'ans had also been transported—somewhere, somehow—to Shipworld. But the quarx, or at least her predecessors, had been quite convinced of her/his/its existential aloneness. It had been a part of her life for millions of years now. And this new closeness with Bandicut and Antares had put it into bold relief.
/Yah,/ Bandicut said silently. /Look, as far as my own feelings are concerned, I don't know if I can explain. I'm not sure I understand it. But you have my permission to poke around the subconscious and see what you find./
/// But . . .
you want her. Physically.
Don't you? ///
/Well, I—/
/// Your nerve endings were positively aflame.
Especially down in your— ///
/Yes, okay, I wanted her. At that moment, for sure. Right now, I—it's more confused./
/// You're not sure? ///
/Well, I do and I don't./
/// ??? ///
He sighed. /Look, guys aren't so great at getting all introspective about this stuff./
/// That sounds like an excuse,
if you don't mind my saying so. ///
/Huh?/ His face stung. /As a matter of fact, I do mind. Look, people don't like being rejected, okay?/
/// But she didn't reject you!
She just . . . she said those feelings were good.
But it wasn't the right— ///
/Yeah, sure. That's one way of looking at it, and it's very rational and so on. But I'm just telling you what I maybe feel, which is different from logic./
/// You're mad.
You're mad at her, aren't you? ///
Bandicut felt a flush in his face. His eyes were closed. /I'm not mad. I'm just—/ He couldn't believe this—couldn't believe what he was feeling. Was the quarx tapping into all of his repressed emotions? /Look, I'm not sure this is such a good line of
questioning./
/// I'm sorry.
You said it was okay to poke around.
I guess I shouldn't— ///
/No, it's okay. It is. But—well, there are some things that most guys would just as soon leave under wraps./
/// That's really weird.
But if it's a . . . guy thing . . . ? ///
/Yeah. Don't worry about it. I mean, it's all right for you to look, and ask./
/// Okay. ///
/Okay./ Bandicut drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. He opened his eyes and stared at the blue haze flying toward them as they sped through the water. Gradually, he shifted his gaze over to steal a glance at Antares. She was peering off to the side, scanning the view. She seemed unaware of his inner discussion. Her hair was loose and somewhat tangled over her shoulders. She smelled pinelike, with a hint of musk, which he guessed was what Thespi women smelled like when they hadn't had a fresh morning shower in a while. He didn't want to think what aromas he might be giving off.
Right now, he thought, he didn't honestly want that kind of contact with her, anyway. Make love with an alien? She was attractive, yes, but only in certain ways of looking at her. It wasn't as if . . .
Like hell. He wanted her, all right.
/// Well, I should think so.
You've got an erection again. ///
/Mokin' fokin' . . ./ He shifted position, and quit looking at Antares, his rush of desire dispersed like a cloud of smoke. /Char, that sort of thing just happens sometimes. You can't—I mean, it's not as if—/
/// Yeah, mokin' A right. ///
/Oh, shut up, will you?/ he said, this time with feeling.
Startled, Char answered,
/// I'm sorry. Really.
I really hope it happens for you, someday. ///
And then she did shut up. And Bandicut rode in silence, wondering if he was just imagining the soft empathic Thespi voice acknowledging his jangled feelings, and soothing him, saying it was okay . . . and he focused every fiber of his conscious will on listening to the drone of the sub through the water.
Chapter 28
Meeting of Minds
LI-JARED, CROUCHED BESIDE beside Harding at the small side viewport, felt a rush of excitement as he watched the other Neri sub materialize out of the misty distance. It had been a torment, being cooped up in the submarine, feeling cut off from the rest of the world. But the growing natural light outside the sub had helped to soothe his nerves, and now seeing the vessel carrying his friends was enough to make him rejoice.
He'd been thinking about his long talks with Harding during the trip, hearing about the Astari people, how they had carved an existence from the coast of an alien sea, and spread inland but always with a need to remain close to the sea that had claimed their starship. Something in the Astari people had always wanted one day to find a way to return to that starship, to reclaim something of what was theirs. Not so much their equipment, Harding thought, as their sense of heritage. Many of the Astari still felt themselves to be exiles on this planet, stranded by a queer twist of destiny. They believed they would return one day to the stars—either as a people, or individually, in death. It was not too different from the way many Karellians viewed life: as a great endless cycle tied invisibly to the great coils of energy that surrounded and entwined their world.
Li-Jared had a lot in common with this being, besides their stones. He wished they could have spent more time talking. But Harding still tired easily, and had to share his time talking in the cockpit with L'Kell, who was at least as full of questions as Li-Jared. One thing that was clear, though, was that the Astari were no simpler or more predictable a people than any others Li-Jared had known. Harding guessed that some might welcome his efforts at diplomacy, while others would oppose it. And Harding couldn't even be sure at what level decisions would be made about their proposals; they might be made by the expedition commander, or by the ruling committees ashore.
Harding stirred, rubbing his houndlike nose as he crouched behind L'Kell and his copilot Jontil, and watched the sub carrying Bandicut and Antares come alongside. "One step closer," he hissed, pleased. He had been wheezing some for the last hour or so—and for that matter, so had Li-Jared—but they both generally seemed to have weathered the ascent in good health. The Neri had done their best to provide smooth decompression, but with the constant change in pressure, humidity, and gas mixture, it was not surprising that they felt a little shaky.
L'Kell called back, "We'll be in sight of the salvage site soon. Have you decided how you want to make your approach?"
"I think," said Harding, "that we should just broadcast my voice, and then see what happens. They might not recognize my voice through the water, but surely we'll get their attention."
"Getting their attention," L'Kell said wryly, "was not what I was worried about."
"Then I guess we'll have to trust that they won't want to risk killing me, and will hold off with the heavy bursters." He paused, and in the silence, it seemed to Li-Jared that L'Kell was trying to decide just how serious the lander was being. Finally Harding continued, "They wouldn't expect you to go right up and say hello. If we actually do that, I think they'll take notice— and will want to see what you intend. And then perhaps . . . well, we'll see."
Li-Jared remained silent, though the whole business worried him. This was their show; he was only here to help, if he could, through the affinity of his stones with Harding's. At the moment, that seemed a very tenuous role.
It was not long before they came within sight of the sunken starship. Li-Jared and Harding peered out the left porthole, angling to try to get a good look at the wreck. As the sub swung into a right turn, Li-Jared caught his first clear view. The wrecked vessel was huge and ungainly, and yet at the same time he could see much of its original smooth lines, now broken in places by the crash. Here, in the fog of the undersea world, the starship looked as though it would be perfectly at home in the far vaster sea of space, probing star streams and nebulas.
"Astari in sight," L'Kell said. "Harding, can you come forward?" As Jontil and Harding exchanged places in the cockpit, L'Kell altered course again, cutting off most of Li-Jared's view of the ship—but not before he glimpsed a group of tiny, dark figures floating above the wreck. His two hearts stuttered and momentarily went out of synch. "Say the right words," he whispered softly, speaking to Harding, to himself, to the stones.
"Outside speakers are on," said L'Kell. "Speak into the comm, whenever you're ready."
For a moment, Harding merely cocked his head to peer out the viewport at the shipwreck and his fellows. The sub's headlights were on, announcing their approach. Finally Harding spoke. "Attention! This is Harding, in one of the vessels now approaching. I am unharmed. I bring important information. The amphibs—the Neri—wish a conference. If you can hear me, flash a light."
There was a long silence, but no answer. Harding and L'Kell conferred. L'Kell turned up the amplification, and Harding spoke again, with exaggerated slowness, his voice ringing through the hull from the external speakers. "THIS IS HARDING—"
He repeated the message twice, before L'Kell said, "Over there—a flashing light. Coming this way."
"Good," said Harding. He spoke into the comm again. "The Neri have no weapons. They wish to approach, and invite you to escort us."
A moment later, Li-Jared saw something speed past the side viewport. It was an Astari, riding some kind of propulsion unit that streamed a white cloud of bubbles. It was wearing breathing gear, and in that brief glimpse looked about as alien as anyone Li-Jared had ever seen. He supposed that was what Harding must have looked like in his diving suit.
Harding was making gestures through the forward window, and appeared satisfied with the reception. But Li-Jared couldn't help noticing, as several other landers sped past, that they all seemed to be carrying weapons. He thought of mentioning it to L'Kell, but supposed that the Neri had probably noticed it himself. Soon they were alongside the starship, surrounded by Astar
i. Li-Jared wondered where the Neri were who had stayed in the wreck. Probably still in hiding. There was a good deal of chatter on the comm, and it sounded as if they were talking about going to the surface to meet.
Li-Jared was excited at the prospect of open air, and sun; but at the same time, he knew enough to be terrified—as much for Harding as for himself. They had managed well, so far. But the deadliest decompression came last. In the final ten meters, the pressure would drop by half. If they had problems, that's where it would happen. He didn't want to have come all this way with Harding, only to see him die just before reaching his world again.
He felt a tickle in his chest.
*It can be done. But go slow. Warn them.*
He blinked, hearts pounding. /Okay,/ he murmured. And he leaned foward to tell them. Because how would it look, he thought with a twinge of irony, to bring back an Astari guest and kill him right before the eyes of his people?
*
John Bandicut had similar thoughts about Harding's safety. True, he and Antares had gone to the surface without incident. But they and their stones were better prepared. Antares was looking at him, and clearly picking up his sense of unease. "I'm sure they'll be okay," he muttered, leaning to get a better look.
They were ascending now past the top of the sunken starship. He noticed that the Astari accompanying them were gradually dropping away, to be replaced by others coming down from above. They were ascending faster than the Astari could decompress. He spoke into the comm to L'Kell. "Is Harding doing all right?"
Harding himself answered. "I am well, so far."
S'Cali seemed to read his thoughts. He blinked his wide eyes, and said, "We will ascend very slowly the rest of the way. Plenty of time yet before we reach surface."
Bandicut sat back and tried to relax.
It did indeed seem to take forever.
Bandicut wasn't sure, but he thought he saw some flashes of light coming from below. Imagination? he wondered. A trick of sunlight, playing off deeper layers of water? He glanced at Antares and S'Cali. "I saw it, too," Antares said.
The Chaos Chronicles Page 95