"That sounds as much like magic as what Li-hon showed me."
"Oh, not at all. The elements that you need are almost always present on the borderline terrestrial worlds-just in the wrong place or state or proportions. The crystals provide the energy and guidance for the process. Depending on how much change is needed, five to fifty years later you've got a new world ready for the first colony ship."
In an empty galaxy, the Alliance could have carried on its missionary expansion until it ran out of will or worlds. But in time, the colonization efforts encroached on space occupied by the races Bhodi had seen depicted during Li-hon's presentation. Those races were then loosely organized under the rule of a dynastic clan. The world, the warlord, and their collective enemy were all named after the constellation they were found in: Arr, the vandal.
As a group, the Arrians viewed oxygen-breathers as little better than vermin and insisted they keep their distance. The Alliance decided that any creatures that rejected the truth of Photon and stood in the way of its spread where wholly evil and therefore not really alive at all.
There was as little chance for accommodation as for a compromise between flame and ether. War began with an Arrian attack on a crystal-siting team and had continued unabated for the better part of two hundred years.
"For all the fighting there's been, strategically it's been a stalemate until recently," Parcival noted. "The Arrians have learned how to reprogram the crystals so that they modify the planet's atmosphere to make it even more inhospitable to us. So where they used to just destroy the crystals, they now try to capture them and use them to deny us the worlds."
"Can't you just go in, shut the crystal down, fix the programming, and fire it up again?"
Parcival shook his head. "You remember how that warrior fired his phaser into the crystal to set it off? The phaser bolt triggers the microfusion capsule that drives the primary reaction. There's no shutting it off, and by the time it's exhausted the whole chemical momentum of the atmosphere has been changed."
"But you can change it back."
"Usually-but changing it back takes just as long. And you still don't have things the way you want them. Add it all together and you see they can keep us off a world for a hundred years with one reprogrammed crystal," Parcival said. "But that's not all. The really scary prospect is of them bringing one to Earth or Foppo or Nivia and destroying the ecosystem."
"So that's what the war is really about-not the final battle between good and evil."
"No. Territory and theopolitics and biological racism."
"It makes a lot more sense the way you tell it. I feel a lot better."
"Yeah, well, you haven't heard the kicker yet."
"The kicker?"
Parcival looked down at his feet and frowned. "I wasn't going to tell you this, at least not yet. But I guess you've got a right to know going in. There is one big mystery I haven't been able to lay a glove on."
"What's that?"
"I don't know who the Ylem are."
"What!?"
"There are seven different species in the Alliance. I've been able to rule out two of them. But I don't know which of the others is the Ylem." He hesitated. "If any of them are."
"One of them has to be."
"That's what I thought. Then I started trying to find out who built the First Guardian-who makes the crystals- who designed our ships-and discovered that everybody thinks it's someone else. Ask Li-hon where the crystals come from and you get an answer something like 'The First Guardian provides.' "
"You mean that the Ylem might be hiding somewhere and letting you fight their battles?"
"Sometimes I think so." He shrugged. "Anyway. I guess the point for you is that you can't take everything you hear from the Alliance leadership at face value. But you can't go around challenging it, either."
"So is Earth really in danger? Or is that part of the fiction?"
"No," Parcival said somberly. "That's real. Look, I don't know what your habits are, but I'm ready to sack out. Do you mind?"
"What time is it? My watch is still in my locker at the Center."
"Midnight your time-the twenty-eighth division in ship time."
"Geez. I didn't realize," Bhodi Li said, standing up. "Except I don't know how well I'm going to sleep."
Parcival slipped past Bhodi in the narrow aisle and flung himself lengthwise on the cot. "These are more comfortable than they look."
"I meant because of everything there is to think about."
"Don't think too much-you'll hurt yourself." It was said teasingly, with a hint of a smile and a twinkle in the eye.
"I'll be careful," Bhodi Li said. He turned away as though to leave, but stopped at the door and looked back. "I can't help wondering about you-how you got here. Were you drafted, too? Nothing personal, but I've never seen anyone your age hold their own in the arena."
"I wasn't drafted, exactly. I volunteered."
"Volunteered! How?"
Parcival twisted onto his side and propped his head on one hand. "Truth is, I was always more interested in how the Photon Centers worked than the game itself-the sensors, the radios, the infrared guns, the computers. I poked around after hours and discovered a little too much. The First Guardian decided that I couldn't be let go and sent a ship to pick me up."
"When was this?"
"Almost a year ago."
"How often do you get back? I mean down to the surface."
"I never do."
"But your family-"
"There's nobody there to miss me," Parcival said, sounding like a ten-year-old for the first time since Bhodi had met him. "This is the only home I've got. Look, I don't want to talk any more. I'm tired. Lights off," he added, and the room darkened.
"Sorry. G'night, Parcival. And thanks-for being straight with me."
"You owe me one," Parcival said, settling back on the cot.
"Fair enough." Bhodi slapped the touchplate and watched the doorway magically appear.
"Hey-Bhodi," the youth suddenly called after him.
"What?"
"You play baseball?"
"Sure."
Parcival nodded absently, staring at the ceiling. "Think I'll ask them to pick up a glove for you the next time a ship stops at Earth. We can play catch anyway, right?"
"If I stay," Bhodi cautioned.
"That's what I meant. If you stay." But the hint of disappointment in Parcival's voice said that he had already begun to count on Bhodi's company.
What the hell am I going to do? Bhodi wondered as he returned to his quarters. I'm a dozen light-years from home with a lizard-priest that wants to convert me and a boy genius that wants me to be his big brother, on my way to boot camp for a star army. I don't want to fight for the First Guardian of Photon. I only came along for the ride — a sightseeing tour of the galaxy. But the more I see and learn, the harder it is to think about going back and forgetting it all.
And tomorrow we'll be there — wherever there is. What am I going to do?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bhodi Li stood on the bridge of the Fraanic and stared with wonder at the spectacle laid out before him on the windows of the scoutship. No recording this time, the great space station called Intellistar hung like a glittering toy in space, high above the fleecy yellow-tinged clouds of a golden world.
At any given time Bhodi could see at least a half-dozen other spacecraft moving against the dramatic backdrop formed by steady-shining stars, a great white moon, and the system's brilliant blue-white sun.
"This is like going into O'Hare or L.A.X.," Bhodi said to Parcival, who was standing nearby.
"It's always busy," Parcival agreed. "This is the nerve center for the whole Photon Force. The First Guardian is here, as much as she can be said to be anywhere. Most of our training facilities are in this system."
"In other words, this is home."
"For me, anyway," Parcival said.
As they orbited Intellistar awaiting their landing confirmation, the analogy to a
metallic flower persisted in Bhodi's mind. The central core, hexagonal in shape, was surrounded by a halo of six "petals"-every other one drooping as though wilted. Above each of the drooping petals was a row of hanger bays. The smaller craft buzzing back and forth seemed like bees coming to prospect for pollen.
When they finally were cleared to approach, Fraanic herself took over and began a fully-automated hands-off docking. But Li-hon nevertheless stood by at the controls as insurance against a system failure.
"It's just occurred to me," Bhodi said as the silver skin of the space station eclipsed more and more of the sky. "Why do you even have ships? Why not use the spacetime transporter all the time?"
"Two reasons," Li-hon said. "One is energy. The other is design."
"Design?"
"The transporter needs a terminal at both ends," Parcival added. "We can't just plop people down wherever we like-or snatch them up, for that matter. That's why we had to take you right from the Photon Center."
"The goals. You've got them rigged up for the transporter."
Parcival bobbed his head in agreement. "Any good player ends up there eventually. But the other probe is more serious. It took a tremendous amount of energy to push this ship from Earth to here with the fractional drive- but it would have taken about three times as much energy to throw it the same distance."
"So it has a limited range."
"The operational limit is five milliparsecs, or about one trillion miles," Parcival said. "But just between you and me-when you're looking at more than a hundred million miles or so, if you have a choice between flying and being thrown, fly."
"And when you don't have a choice?"
"Knock on wood," Parcival said cheerily. "If you can find any."
Li-hon grinned, a disturbing sight. "Now you know why he carries a baseball bat along."
When they disembarked, they were greeted by a floating, green-glowing mote and a disembodied voice that said, "Welcome to Intellistar, Bhodi Li. If you will follow the Guide, the next stage in your challenge will begin."
"The Guide?"
Parcival gestured at the light. "The firefly. It'll show you where you need to go."
"You're not coming?"
"We can't help you with what's to come, Bhodi Li," said Li-hon.
"And what's that?"
The floating fire started down the corridor to the right. "Please follow the Guide, Bhodi Li," the voice said. It was female in character, even maternal. "Your questions will be answered at the proper time."
"Go on," Parcival urged. "And good luck."
"Thanks," Bhodi said, his voice reflecting the ambivalence he felt, and started in pursuit of the Guide. He glanced back once to find Li-hon and Parcival watching him with concerned looks as though seeing off a friend on a different journey.
What have I gotten myself into? he wondered as he followed the Guide around a corner. Biology class is looking better and better all the time -
The Guide led Bhodi through several hundred feet of corridors before bringing him to a small outfitting room. Inside, a black mesh bodysuit was neatly laid out on a white counter like a headless corpse.
"What you see before you is a personal body screen," the voice of the guide said. "Please get dressed."
"What for?"
"The body screen absorbs and redistributes the energy of a phaser hit. It is being provided so that you will not be encumbered by armor your body is unaccustomed to bearing."
"No-I meant why am I getting dressed? What's this about?"
"To continue your challenge, you must demonstrate your abilities in a combat audition. Did Sergeant Nar-lex-ko-li-hon not inform you?"
Bhodi Li fingered the material of the screen. Though it looked like it was woven of black wire, the mesh was as supple as jersey. "He told me. Does this go over my clothes?"
"Yes, Bhodi Li."
The body screen went on as though it had been custom-fit for him, body-hugging but nowhere binding or restricting. Sleeve-straps that caught in the crook of his thumb like a half-glove and foot-straps like those found on baseball pants made sure that his arms and legs were fully covered. Magical little closures brought the fabric up to a high collar.
As he fastened the last closure at the neck, there was a rustling sound behind him. He turned and found the counter arrayed with equipment that looked at first glance like a normal Photon Warrior's kit.
A second glance told Bhodi it was not. The chest sensor unit was more finely detailed, its receptor lenses faceted like jewels. The power belt weighed no more than half of what he expected, as though the batteries had been removed from the contoured boxes that rode on each hip. Unlike the helmet he had left in his cabin on Fraanic, this one had a low-riding neck skirt and wraparound face screen.
But it was the phaser pistol that sealed his understanding that this was a different game. It had greater heft, a different balance, but most of all a certain wicked look that said that it could really do what those he had held before could only pretend to.
"Please continue dressing," the Guide reminded.
"Sorry." As Bhodi strapped the power belt in place, his apprehension started to fade, displaced by a growing anticipation. He wondered if the training arena would be laid out the same as in his home center. If this is a real phaser, my opponent must be a hologram — or a robot — God, it'll be like walking into a video game -
"Ready," he said, slipping the helmet down over his head and drawing the chin strap tight.
To Bhodi's right, the wall irised into a doorway. "Proceed, Bhodi Li."
Bhodi stepped through the opening. The room was tiny, empty, blank-walled, and with no apparent exit. "What now?" he asked.
As though in answer, the room came alive with electric blue light, dancing on the surface of the walls, encasing Bhodi Li in a halo of energy.
Transporter! Bhodi thought. On the road again -
When the transporter cocoon dissipated, Bhodi Li found himself standing alone on a desolate plain littered with spikelike outcrops of reddish rock. The landscape was in twilight, yet the sun hung near the zenith, a blue-white ghost slipping behind a high overcast of yellow clouds. The ground underfoot was hard and unyielding under a thin blanket of gray-black sand. A light wind blew across the emptiness.
No, not here — this isn't fair. I've never seen this place before. How can I show what I can do -
"Test your weapon, Bhodi Li." It was the voice of the Guide, sounding inside his helmet.
Bhodi raised the phaser pistol experimentally and drew a bead on the face of the nearest boulder. When he squeezed the trigger, a pencil-thin red beam of light leapt from the barrel, and a shower of rock chips exploded from the spot that had been his target. But he had no time to marvel at the power that had been handed to him.
"Challenger Bhodi Li, prepare to do battle."
"Against what?"
There was no answer. It did not take long for Bhodi Li to begin to feel unnecessarily exposed standing alone on the flats. There was cover all around-cover that he should not cede to his opponent.
But as he broke into a trot in the direction of the nearest outcrop, a red flicker played across his facemask and slashed diagonally across his shoulder. He nearly screamed in shock and pain. It was as though his skin were being seared in a bath of liquid fire.
Instinctively, Bhodi turned his forward momentum into a diving forward roll that removed him from his adversary's gunsights. Scrambling into the protective shadow of a rock wall, he caught a glimpse of a wide-hipped thick-legged figure in tan fatigues. Then rock chips showered down on Bhodi as a phaser bolt struck inches above his head, and he ducked back out of sight.
Not human. Not Qeth. Another of the species Li-hon told me about. Looks slow — I should be able to outquick him, if not his phaser fire. The thought reminded Bhodi of the terrible pain that had inexplicably vanished. He looked down at his shoulder and saw to his surprise that the body screen was intact, his clothing and the skin beneath it apparently undamaged. The only
evidence of the combat's opening exchange was a fine coating of dust on the mesh- dust from the surface of an alien world.
So the screen protects me from harm — but not from hurting, Bhodi thought as he scanned what he could see of the landscape for the threat of movement and the promise of better shelter. If I were my opponent -
Just as Bhodi was realizing with belated alarm that he'd been motionless too long, from behind he heard the sound of something hard sliding and grating on bare rock. His heart pounding, he scrambled halfway around the boulder in the opposite direction. He crouched there for a moment, then took off toward a cluster of cigarlike pinnacles and the jumble of rock at their base.
As he ran, he scanned the rockfall ahead for the best hiding place. Then he saw a flicker of red light play on the rock beyond him, and suddenly his back was tingling with anticipation of the shot to come. Bhodi went into a feet-first dive, as though he were sliding into third base. A half roll to the right put him on his belly, looking back the way he had come. He gripped his pistol in both hands as he drew a bead on the figure standing where he had crouched just moments before.
The squeezing of the trigger was reflex, or he would never have completed the act. This was a new enemy, tall and imposing, with a face like a mask and a body clad in articulated silver and black armor, carrying a long staff such as a wizard might own. The very sight of the wizard-warrior called all of Bhodi's self-confidence into question.
Bhodi's shot was on target, but pitiably ineffective. The beam of energy reflected harmlessly off the polished surface of the creature's breastplate and up toward the sun. Bhodi did not wait to try again. As the creature began to point the end of the staff in Bhodi's direction, fear drove him to his feet and toward the rockfall.
But this time, the wizard's aim was good. Pain exploded in the middle of Bhodi's back, dropping him to his knees. He crawled the last few feet to shelter in agony, the speakers in his helmet crackling with static from the overload of energy his body screen was laboring to dispose of.
Bhodi dove over the crumbling edge of a table-flat sheet of rock that had sheared off the tallest of the pinnacles, and the pain and heat began to ebb. He lay on the hard ground panting and wondering how many opponents he would have to face before the audition was over. He already felt hounded and harried, a new and unpleasant sensation.
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