Acorna’s Quest

by Anne McCaffrey

  “From the Khleevi,” Neeva said, “we learned the arts of war…but not quickly enough. First we fled them, abandoned Vhiliinyar rather than commit violence against other sapient beings…but not all. Too many of the People refused to believe the evidence of the Khleevi ’casts; it was beyond their comprehension that any beings could attack others in this fashion. They learned…too late…and the Khleevi showed us what happened to them. Even if the Khleevi were to abandon Vhiliinyar now, the People who remain could not return. The land would be alive with the memory of pain and betrayal; the water would be tainted with the blood of innocents.”

  “Vhiliinyar thiinyethilelen, fiinyefalaran Vhiliinyar,” repeated the other Linyaari.

  Neeva went to the star map and asked Thariinye to make it display the Coma Berenices quadrant. With Rafik’s help, the projection was changed, and using the laser pointer, Neeva traced lines of light showing the Linyaari dispersion to planets in other systems, far enough away, they hoped, to evade Khleevi notice. This flight had bought them enough time to adapt their technology to space war and defense systems, and also time enough to establish certain stringent rules for all their people. “No more Linyaari shall die under Khleevi torture,” Neeva told them. “We have all taken a vow to die at our own hands before falling into the claws of the Khleevi. For some years this was not necessary. Having conquered Vhiliinyar, and our neighboring world of Galleni, the Khleevi did not move again for a time. But we did not cease our studies and explorations. We have had two objects; to find a way of traveling much farther and faster than any known spacecraft, so that we might escape the Khleevi for good; and to develop defense systems that might annihilate the Khleevi, both in our own defense and so that other races might not be totally exterminated like the dharmakoi of Galleni.”

  “Galleni thiinyethilelen, fiinyefalaran dharmakoi,” murmured the other Linyaari.

  “One of our foremost scientists, Vaanye of the Renyilaaghe, had adapted his researches into the topology of space to weapons research shortly before his death,” Neeva told them. “He had discovered a way of temporarily collapsing the dimensional fabric of space at a selected point, which created an inordinately large and destructive explosion at the point of origin. Vaanye had told us only that there were a few minor side effects to use of the weapon, such as the fact that it destroyed whoever employed it as well as the intended target, when he and his life-mate made the mistake of taking a short cruise in order to show their first youngling to…me.” Neeva’s pupils narrowed into vertical silver lines of distress. “My sister Feriila was Vaanye’s…wife,” she explained, “and I had been on duty at an outlying planet in the same system, attempting to establish diplomatic relations with a race of large quadrupeds which at first contact had appeared to be sapient. This was later proved to be an error; they had neither language nor social organization nor any long-term memory. It was an error which cost Feriila her life, for Vaanye’s cruise coincided with the Khleevi discovery of this star system. Our new planetary defenses thwarted their first attack—but Vaanye, in space, had no such defenses. For three ghaanyi we have believed that Vaanye destroyed Feriila, their youngling, and the ship rather than allow them to be captured by the Khleevi. We were astonished to discover that an escape pod from Vaanye’s ship had survived the explosion only to be transported to this remote sector of space…and even more surprised to find that my sister-child had been raised to maturity among you.”

  “Ha!” Pal exploded. “So you didn’t come for Acorna.”

  Neeva inclined her head with a graceful gesture that indirectly reproved Pal.

  “No. Since our present planetary defense systems have at least temporarily repelled the Khleevi attack, we have observed that the number of their ships near the systems we inhabit is greatly diminished.

  Some of our people conjecture that their fleet has gone in search of other, easier worlds to conquer. With the smaller number of Khleevi ships patrolling our space, it was possible to send out parties of envoys with some hope of escaping Khleevi detection. We felt it our duty to discover if any other sapient races might exist in the path of the Khleevi fleet, and to warn them if such existed.”

  “Did you know they were coming this way, then?” Gill asked.

  “There were several paths they might logically have taken. We sent groups out in all such directions.” Neeva paused, her pupils narrowing again. “Not all ships made a successful escape from the remaining Khleevi…but ours did, and we were instructed to continue on our way. Recent transmissions from narhii-Vhiliinyar—you would say, New Home—have emphasized the urgency of our task, as it is now known that a large Khleevi fleet is indeed making a sweep toward this sector of space. We hope to make alliance with you, to share our technology and what we have learned of the Khleevi with whatever resources your race can muster, that they may not fall upon you unwarned as they did us. And now, as well, we hope to find my sister-child and bring her back to the People…if she can be saved from the Khleevi into whose path she is heading.”

  Gill had been moving restlessly in his seat, bursting with questions. How and when had the Linyaari seen Acorna’s escape pod and learned of her existence? Who had told them to look for her here on Maganos Moon Base? And why had they been so secretive and indirect in their first approaches on Maganos? But Neeva’s last statement thrust all his previous questions into the background.

  “Great Gods, woman,” he roared, “do you mean to tell us these beasts are headed for Rushima? Why the devil did you draw it out so long? Rafik, send a coded spurt to Rushima immediately! There’s no time to waste!”

  “Gently, Gill,” whispered Mr. Li. “Is important to know all salient facts. Right action can arise only from right understanding.”

  “I should think the action needed is obvious enough!”

  “Declan Giloglie,” said Judit firmly, “chill.”

  Gill subsided into his chair, muttering into his quivering red beard, and Rafik looked at Judit with new respect.

  “How did you do that?” he murmured in her ear.

  “Practice,” Judit replied, equally quietly. “My first employer on Kezdet had a hunting dog which it was my responsibility to train. Behavioral training principles turn out to be applicable across species.”

  “When we have a moment,” Rafik responded, “I want to see if you can get him to heel.”

  Judit’s lips twitched. “No, but given the right motivation he will sit up and beg.”

  Rafik intercepted a meaningful glance from Mr. Li and, abandoning this badinage, he slipped out of the room to consult with Li’s secretary about the fastest route by which to send a coded spurt-message to Rushima for immediate transmission to the Acadecki. The message would have to have a header that would persuade Calum and Acorna not to reject it unheard, yet it must not contain anything that would start a general panic on Rushima. Hmm…Wasn’t Rushima an outlying colony of the Shenjemi Federation? Best apprise the Federation, too, of the situation…or as much as could be encapsulated in the very condensed but fast-traveling spurt. Let the Shenjemi decide whether to defend or evacuate Rushima; Rafik’s first responsibility was to get Acorna and Calum out of there at once. Then perhaps the Linyaari envoys could set up a communication link with the Shenjemi to discuss their next step.

  The messages sent, Rafik returned to the deliberations in Mr. Li’s innermost office. All the interior walls except the one devoted to vid-screens now glowed with star maps; arcs of light radiated from one system to another, and geometric shapes denoting star fleets moved with agonizingly deliberate velocity to converge on the Rushimese system as various parties put forward their suggestions for mobilizing a defense against the Khleevi attack. Gill pointed out that Kezdet’s own Guardians of the Peace had a large space fleet at their command, testimony to Kezdet’s acquisitive ways and tendency to demand “taxes” or “reparations” from neighbors on the slightest excuse.

  At his command, the star-map projector displayed a fleet of golden rhomboids moving from Kezdet toward
Rushima, but taking a far more direct route than that presumably chosen by Calum. “They could be there within five days.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Judit flared up at him. “Shake hands with Kezdet, count your fingers,” she quoted a proverb popular in this and neighboring star systems. Pal nodded his agreement. Having escaped the infamous system of child bondage on which Kezdet’s old industrial empire had been built, a system protected by the Guardians of the Peace, neither of the Kendoros was inclined to trust a Kezdet Guardian in the slightest.

  “Oh, they’re not all that bad,” Rafik said. “Smirnoff and Minkus, for instance—”

  “Smirnoff’s a psychopath!” Gill interjected. “And out for your blood, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “True,” Rafik nodded, “but he did save my life by disarming the bomb Tapha meant to kill me with. Whatever else you may say against Des Smirnoff, he’s no coward.”

  Gill snorted. “Maybe not, but he’s still an idiot. Remember who let Tapha get past security with that bomb in the first place? No, thank you. We don’t need clowns like Smirnoff and Minkus in this operation. They’re liable to get your whole hand blown off instead of just taking a couple of fingers!”

  “This insignificant old person has dealt with Kezdet for many years and still has all fingers intact, though unfortunately not functioning,” Mr. Li pointed out. “But Kezdet fleet is designed for smalltime piracy and aggression on weaker neighbors, Gill, not for defense against armada. Send Guardians to Rushima is to sign their death sentence.”

  “Well, now,” said Pal and Judit simultaneously, their brows clearing, “if you put it that way…”

  “Besides,” Li added, “Kezdet is not known for altruism. Will hardly strip their system of defenses in order to protect agricultural colony belonging to Shenjemi Federation.”

  “Rafik, has Shenjemi responded to the spurt yet?”

  Rafik glanced at the small portable com unit which he had set to display all incoming messages from Shenjemi—or Rushima.

  “More or less.”

  A voluminous spurt from Shenjemi was still being expanded and decoded; the words scrolled across Rafik’s screen as he watched.

  “First, they request proof that this so-called attack on Rushima is not a hoax, and they want to know what connection this message has with the spurt they recently received from Rushima claiming the planet was under attack by space pirates.”

  “The Khleevi—already?” Judit paled.

  “I don’t think so,” Rafik replied. “The Rushimese seem to think they’re being attacked by some group called the Starfarers…. Now, where have I heard that name before? Oh, yes…Uncle Hafiz mentioned them once; they used to be the Free Nation of Esperantza. Amalgamated diddled them out of the planet they’d just settled and stripped it for mineral assets, but they refused to take the resettlement offer—claimed they’d been cheated and would settle for nothing less than having Esperantza restored and returned to them. They turned their space station into a mobile colony and have been wandering around for yonks, staging protests and doing odd jobs in space to finance themselves.” He frowned. “But they were always very ethical…obnoxiously ethical. I can’t see them turning to piracy, no matter how hard up they were. This must be some other group with the same name.”

  “Besides,” Gill said, “Rushima’s not exactly the ideal target for pirates, is it? What sort of loot could they take off an ag planet? Loads of grain? Some nicely rotting silage?”

  “To get back to the Shenjemi Federation,” Rafik said, “they have sent a spurt direct to Rushima requesting confirmation and have as yet received no reply; third, Rushima’s ROI—return on investment,” he translated for the Linyaari, “is too low to justify the expense of a full-scale defense. They are considering sending a small fleet to evacuate the planet and relocate the colonists, should there be any basis for our ‘hysterical’ message.” He shrugged slightly and touched the display of red stars for Shenjemi ships to stop the forward movement of the simulation. “Let’s hope they make up their minds in time. How much time do we have?”

  (Khaari?)

  (I’m working on it!)

  (Between one and two enye-ghanyii,) Thariinye announced.

  Khaari sighed and rolled her eyes. (I hate to admit it, Neeva, but the brat’s probably right. I’m trying to get you a closer estimate.)

  (Brat! I like that! You’re only one age group ahead of me, Khaari!)

  (Children, quit squabbling! I can’t hear myself think!)

  After a few minutes’ consultation with Judit and Gill, Neeva said, “If the Khleevi observe Rushima and choose to take it, they will probably beginn operations in…I think eight to”—she counted on her digits for a minute, murmuring—“I do wish somebody would add arithmetic capabilities to the LAANYE; I cannot add in base tenn.” She muttered to herself in Linyaari for a moment, then lifted her head. “Yes. Two-tenn to six-tenn of your days.”

  “Twenty to sixty?” Gill asked hopefully. “Or twelve to sixteen?”

  The number words were within the LAANYE’s capacity, if the arithmetic was not.

  “Twelf to six-teen,” Neeva said firmly.

  Gill whistled. “You didn’t give yourselves much lead time, did you?”

  “Be reasonable, Gill,” Judit said. “They risked their lives to get away from narhii-Vhiliinyar at all. Are you going to criticize them because they reached us just ahead of the Khleevi?”

  “It’s a whole lot better than getting here just after the invasion,” Pal pointed out.

  “Let’s just hope the Shenjemi Federation get their collective finger out in time.” Gill said. “And in the meantime, let’s have Acorna out of there. Rafik, what word from Rushima? They must have received our spurt by now.”

  Rafik shook his head. “It didn’t get through.”

  “WHAT???” Gill lunged half out of his chair. “What did you do wrong?”

  “Chill,” Rafik said firmly. He was disappointed to see that the word was not effective when it wasn’t delivered in Judit’s calm voice. “Look, Gill, nothing is getting through to Rushima right now. The Shenjemi couldn’t raise a reply either. And the Acadecki isn’t receiving OR transmitting.”

  “If these Khleevi have already got there—”

  “Imm-possible,” Thariinye said in an atrocious accent, but with great authority.

  “More likely it’s space weather,” Rafik pointed out. “A bad disturbance in the ionosphere could bring satellite communications down for several hours, even days.”

  Judit touched Delszaki Li’s desk-console screen with one finger, murmured a few words, then tapped the screen again. “Unlikely. The Galacticapedia says Rushima is noted for its temperate and even climate. Atmospheric and ionospheric storms are virtually unknown.”

  “In any case,” Mr. Li put in, “dare not wait days, or even hours. Someone must go to warn Rushima, and to bring Acorna and Calum back. Here, we continue to resend spurt message, make plans for defense, encourage Shenjemi to evacuate Rushima.”

  “And what happens if the Khleevi bypass Rushima?” Rafik asked.

  “They find richer pickings closer in,” Gill said grimly. “Depending on their tastes…Neeva, what do these Khleevi want?”

  Neeva shook her head. “You know the fate of our envoys. We have never established communication; whatever they want, it is not that. I know only what they do. They destroy.”

  “Do they colonize the planets they take? Are they looking for living space?”

  Neeva thought that over. “They…yes, they now inhabit Vhiliinyar; but our scouts report that we would not know our home again. They…they…” She choked, could not find words in Basic to describe the devastation, but Delszaki Li’s eyes widened as he took in the images of desolation that filled her mind and the thoughts of the other Linyaari.

  “Valleys and green hills become plains,” he said, straining his voice to communicate what he perceived to the others. “Orchards and cities are leveled. All native life is destroyed, down to
the insects in the air and the bacteria in the earth. A river becomes a foul marsh breeding clutches of small Khleevi in the thousands. Dry land is an ocean of grass in which the mature Khleevi fly. And the bones of the Linyaari are piled in monuments.”

  “The Mongols meant to do the same to Western Europe, once,” Rafik said. “It would have been in the”—he paused and flicked fingers swiftly over the string of amber beads knotted in his belt—“in the thirteenth century, Old Reckoning. Chroniclers of the time say they advanced like locusts, devouring and destroying all before them, and attacking so swiftly that the mounted knights of the West had no time to assemble a defense. Impregnable walled cities went down before them, whole lands were depopulated, and they boasted that they would make of the entire world nothing but a vast steppe over which they might ride wherever they would. Fortunately,” he said, “this was before our people had space travel, so it did not occur to them to extend the devastation to other planets.”

  Neeva drew in her breath in shock at this revelation.

  (Did you hear that? Their own histories recount such behavior!)

  (Have we made a mistake in seeking alliance with them? Perhaps they are more khlevii than linyarii after all.)

  (What choice did we have?)

  (I think we are safe enough. They, too, have no choice. How could they ally with the Khleevi, who destroy anyone who lingers long enough to communicate with them? They must help us to turn back the Khleevi, else their own worlds will suffer as did our Home.)

  Gill thought the Linyaari simply had nothing much to say. “Very interesting, Rafik,” he said. “But the Mongols did not succeed. I’ve seen Earth; it’s not a featureless steppe, and Europe has cities and monuments dating from long before the time you mention. So what turned them back?”

  Pal and Judit turned to Rafik, hopeful.