by Ben Bova
“Can you rise above your fears, Orion?”
I wanted to scream. Those enormous gaping mouths, like suckers big enough to swallow me whole, they seemed to be bearing down upon me, coming to devour me, coming to grasp me in those powerful tentacles and stuff me into one of those gaping maws. I could feel their digestive fluids burning into my flesh. I felt smothered, suffocating.
“Can you see beyond your terror, Orion? Can you look upon us as we truly are?”
I realized my eyes were squeezed shut, my fists pressed so hard against my temples I thought my skull would burst. They saved you! I raged at myself. They’re healing your wounds. They are intelligent beings. Go beyond their appearance; look at them as they see themselves.
Shaking with dread, I opened my eyes and forced myself to look at them again. They hovered all around me, huge, engulfing. I took a deep, shuddering breath. They came no closer, floating silently in the deep waters. Yet they were so enormous that they filled my vision wherever I looked. There was no escaping them. I fought against the panic that surged through me, deliberately forced my heart to slow its terrified beat, calmed my breathing to something close to normal.
I stared at them for long, long minutes. They hovered all around me, pulsating slowly, lights flickering within their undulating bodies, patterns of color glowing and shifting rhythmically across their translucent skins. There was a certain dignity to them, I slowly recognized. Even a certain kind of beauty as they floated throbbing in the deep waters. They moved gracefully, I forced myself to admit, trying to avoid looking at those dilating mouths.
And they were watching me intently. Each of them possessed two giant, solemn eyes that seemed focused on me.
“You are… beautiful,” I managed to croak.
“We are glad you think so. After your experience in the swamp we were afraid that you would be biased against us. Xenophobia is one of the deepest traits of your species.”
“We were created to be warriors,” I replied. “It makes it easier to kill your foes if you are frightened of them.”
“And yet the dolphins vouched for you.”
“The dolphins?” I blurted. “Are they here?”
“Not in this era,” the voice answered.
I realized that these Old Ones could travel through time the way the Creators could. The way I had myself.
“When we first made contact with you, Orion,” the voice continued, “we sensed nothing but a warrior intent on slaying his enemies. But the dolphins told us you were a good friend to them, so we probed deeper.”
It was the Old Ones whom I had sensed earlier, then. Yet I had no memory of how I got to be a good friend to the dolphins. Was I sent on a mission into the ocean, in another era?
“We find that although your basic instincts are those of a warrior, there are other desires struggling within you.”
“I have a will of my own,” I told them, “even though my Creator looks upon me as nothing more than a tool for his use.”
“That is a part of the problem you present to us.” The voice sounded slightly perturbed despite its silky smoothness. “We have been observing your kind since you first arrived. You humans are bloodthirsty as well as xenophobic.”
“We were made that way,” I admitted. “Although some of us have tried to rise above it.”
“Have you?”
“Some of us have. There are humans at the Skorpis base who are scientists. They are not warriors, not killers.”
“Why do you not regard the Skorpis as humans?” Although I heard only one voice, I got the impression that more than one of these sea creatures was speaking to me, or perhaps they were all speaking, and what I heard was a blend of their individual thoughts and questions.
“The Skorpis come from another world,” I answered. “They are descended from felines.”
“While your kind are patterned after primate apes.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“What makes you think that the Skorpis come from a different origin than your own?”
“They couldn’t…” I hesitated. “Do you mean that they were also—”
“Produced by your Creators? Why do you find that difficult to believe?”
“Not difficult. Just—a new idea. I hadn’t considered it before.”
“The universe is old, Orion. And your Creators have been very busy.”
“But if the Skorpis were also made by the Creators, why are they fighting against us?” I asked.
“Whatever your Creators touch degenerates into violence,” the Old Ones said. “They are a plague among the stars.”
“But you,” I asked again. “Who are you? What have you to do with the Creators?”
“We are a very old race, Orion. Older than your Creators by tens of millions of years. We have no desire to be dragged into the slaughters that your kind are perpetrating.”
“Why should you be?”
“Because your fellow humans have discovered us. They have tried to make contact with us. They want us to ally ourselves with them against their enemies.”
“I don’t even know who our enemies are,” I said.
“Other humans, of course. And species of similar levels of development, such as the Skorpis and the Tsihn.”
I felt confused, stunned almost, at all this new information they were throwing at me. They sensed my mental turmoil.
“Do not feel anxious, Orion. We will explain everything to you so that you can understand it fully.”
Why? I wondered. What do they want?
As if in answer, the silky voice told me, “You are going to be our ambassador, Orion. You will give our message to your Creators.”
Chapter 12
The city of the Old Ones, down at the abyssal depths of the ocean, was a vast wonderland of delights. Actually, the term city is a misnomer, for the Old Ones had no need for buildings or structures. Yet they clustered together in this sea-bottom aggregation of lights and patterns, exchanging thoughts like very old and very wise philosophers. Aristotle would have been happy here; Plato would have found his republic of intellect.
For countless days I wandered through the city, buoyed in an invisible sphere that somehow always was filled with fresh air. I neither ate nor drank, yet I was nourished and refreshed. My wounds healed completely as I learned of the Old Ones, their origins and history, their place in the continuum, their relationship to the Creators and the war that was spanning this region of the galaxy.
The Old Ones had evolved from octopus-like invertebrates living in the early seas of their home planet. We humans have a prejudice that a species cannot become fully intelligent until it masters energy sources beyond its own muscular power. For a land-dwelling species such as ourselves, that first energy source was fire. Since fire is impossible underwater, we tend to dismiss the possibilities of intelligent sea creatures. Even the dolphins would not have reached true intelligence if human scientists had not augmented their native brains.
The Old Ones had manipulating organs: ten tentacles that could grasp and maneuver as well as human hands or better. They had large, intelligent brains and exquisitely subtle sensory organs. Instead of fire, they developed the abundant electrical energies they found in many species of fish and eels. Where we humans built tools and learned engineering, the Old Ones learned biology and incorporated the living forms they needed into a symbiotic existence within their own bodies.
They learned about the world around them. Over the millennia, over the eons, they slowly built up a body of knowledge about the sea and, eventually, the land and even the sun and stars. Long before the dinosaurs ranged across Mesozoic Earth, the Old Ones discovered the energies of space-time and learned how to move through the continuum.
By the time the primate apes of Earth began to develop into the earliest hominids, the Old Ones had explored the galaxy. By the time Aten and the other Creators decided to build their human tools and send them to the Ice Age strongholds of the Neanderthals on a mission of genocide, the Old Ones
had decided to keep to themselves, content to contemplate the universe without tampering with it.
Where we humans, driven by our Creators, are constantly meddling with the flow of space-time, constantly trying to alter the continuum to suit our needs and desires, the Old Ones have withdrawn to their oceans and their thoughts. They are to us as a giant sequoia tree is to a chittering squirrel.
All this I learned from them.
“Friend Orion,” said the silky-voiced one to me, “the moment has come for you to return to your own kind.”
The Old One who addressed me was swimming alongside my sphere as we gently glided through an avenue of blue-white lights that flickered like fireflies through the dark water. In all the time I had spent with them I had never heard any of the Old Ones refer to one another by a name. They had no need of names, it seemed. I could tell them from one another by differences in their coloration and in the sound of their voices, although I never did learn how they produced sounds that I could hear.
“You know now who we are and what we are,” said my companion and teacher. “Please tell your Creators that we refuse to be drawn into their slaughters. Our only desire is to live in peace.”
“But what if one of our warring groups tries to force you to join their side?”
Again that sense of gentle amusement. “We will not be forced, Orion. We will not listen to their words. If they try to use weapons against us, their weapons will not function. We threaten no one. We will harm no one. But we will not allow our knowledge or strength to be used in war.”
I recognized the hint.
“Will you meet us if we stop fighting? Would you be willing to exchange thoughts with us if we stop the war?”
A feeling of wry humor touched me. “Perhaps, Orion. In a million years or so, perhaps then you will be ready to share thoughts with us.”
I felt myself grinning. “That’s something to look forward to.”
“Farewell, ambassador Orion.”
I found myself sprawled on the beach near the ruins of the ancient city, where I had left the rest of my troopers. How long ago? I had no idea of how much time had passed. It was daylight, close to midday, I judged from the height of the blazing sun.
Getting to my feet, I started walking rapidly across the glaring sand toward the ruins. Within minutes a voice from one of the crumbling walls hailed me.
“Captain? Is that you?”
“Yes,” I said, stating the obvious.
The trooper climbed up atop the broken edge of the wall. I recognized him: Jerron, the smallest man in the unit, often teased as the runt of the litter. He glanced behind him, and made a slight pushing motion with both his hands. I realized that his hands were empty. He was unarmed, not even a pistol on him.
I was about to ask him why he had no gun when a quartet of Skorpis warriors rose beside him. They were all fully armed. They pointed their rifles at me.
“Surrender or be killed.”
The nearest bit of cover was the wall on which they stood. Otherwise I was totally unprotected, standing out on the bare beach in the noontime sun, wearing nothing but a ragged pair of shorts. Not even much of a shadow with me.
I surrendered.
“They came in the second night you were gone,” Jerron told me as the Skorpis warriors marched us across the beach toward their base. “Just popped up in the middle of the ruins, outta nowhere. We never had a chance.”
So the Skorpis had found that the underwater tunnels led into the heart of the ruined city, I realized. They knew we were there and they used the tunnels to take the troop by surprise.
“How bad were our casualties?” I asked.
“It all happened so fast we never had much of a chance to put up a fight. The guys on sentry duty caught it. Manfred, Klon, Wilma.”
Manfred. The sergeant I had forced to become a lieutenant. A real lieutenant would not have been on guard duty. Manfred’s old habits killed him. Then I remembered Frede’s warning me that it’s not smart for a soldier to make friends. Manfred was hardly a friend, but I felt his loss as if it were my own fault.
“How long have I been away?” I asked. “I’ve lost track of time.”
“Four days, sir. The Skorpis knocked us off the second night you were gone, and then they’ve been waiting for you to come back ever since.”
“So now they’ve got us all.”
“Sorry to be the judas goat, sir.” Jerron looked fairly miserable as we walked, struggling to keep pace with the giant Skorpis’s strides. They were quite willing to nudge us with their rifle butts if they felt we were lagging behind.
“You’ve done nothing to be ashamed of, soldier,” I said. “This whole mission was a disaster from the outset.”
They marched us through their perimeter emplacements and into an open compound in the middle of the base, sealed off by electric fences, guarded by a dozen heavily armed warriors, surrounded by all the Skorpis on the planet. They were intent on keeping us from escaping, I could see.
Lieutenant Frede hurried to me as soon as the warriors pushed little Jerron and me into the compound.
“Orion! Captain! Are you all right?” There was real concern in her eyes.
“I’m unhurt,” I said.
“From what we had heard, the Skorpis had fried you six ways from breakfast.”
“They exaggerated their marksmanship,” I said.
Lieutenant Quint pushed through the group that had gathered around us. “They claim you killed half a dozen of them,” he said, with something like admiration in his voice.
“I didn’t stop to count.”
Frede said, “I don’t know what they intend to do with us, but it won’t be pleasant.”
“How have they treated you so far?”
“Oh, okay, by their standards. We’re stuck in this compound. No shelter. When it rains we get wet. We sleep on the ground. They feed us once a day, toward sundown.”
“I haven’t missed today’s feeding, then.”
Her expression grew more serious. “It seemed to me they were waiting for something. I guess they wanted to get you. Now they’ve got all of us.”
Quint added, “Now they can do whatever it is they intend to do.”
“Did you know there are other humans in this camp?”
“Others? No!” Frede said.
“I haven’t seen any,” said Quint.
“They seem to be scientists. And they’re working with the Skorpis.”
“Willingly?”
“I don’t know.”
“You there!” a deep Skorpis voice bellowed. “The one called Orion. To the gate. Now! ”
I went to the gate, my officers and most of the remaining troopers trailing after me. The one who had called me was the security officer. I recognized her face and the insignia on her cinnamon brown uniform.
“Take him out of there,” she commanded the guards. “I have a few questions I want him to answer.”
I shot a glance back to Frede and the others. “Guess I’ll miss today’s meal, after all.”
They marched me to the security officer’s office and sat me in a chair that was a size too big for me.
“At least your uniform is dry this time,” the security officer growled as she sat behind her desk. Two big guards stood behind me. My “uniform” was still nothing more than the shorts I had been wearing since she had last seen me.
“The other humans know nothing of you, even though some of them were willing to lie on your behalf.”
“They are scientists,” I said. “Not warriors.”
“And you?”
“I am a warrior.”
“Why did you come here?”
“To this planet? To set up a base from which we would attack you.”
“And after your base was destroyed, why did you try to infiltrate this base of ours? One human, alone?”
“My orders were to destroy your base. I was scouting to see how I could accomplish that.”
“Scouting alone?”
&nbs
p; “Yes.”
“And you intended to attack this base with fifty-two warriors, no heavy weapons, no support?”
“Yes.”
She glared at me out of her yellow cat’s eyes. “I don’t believe you. Not even a human would be so stupid.”
I temporized. “I knew you had nuclear weapons here. I thought I might set one off and wipe you out.”
“And kill yourself doing it.”
With a shrug I replied, “You’re going to kill me anyway. What difference does it make?”
She radiated suspicion. “You came to this camp to make contact with the other humans. At least some of them are traitors, working against us. You will tell me which ones they are.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t even know there were any humans here when I infiltrated your camp. It was a shock to me. I still don’t know what they’re doing here.”
“I don’t believe a word you say.”
“You have lie-detecting equipment, don’t you? Or truth serum?”
Slowly she raised one hand and unsheathed her claws. “I can get the truth from you with these.”
“You have the truth from me,” I said, trying to remain calm. “No matter what you do the truth will remain the same.”
“We will see.” Then she added, in a growl, “You struck me. Then you ran away. Such a disgrace must be avenged.”
The two guards grabbed my arms and twisted them painfully behind my back. The security officer rose from behind her desk, holding her hand full of claws in front of her like five surgical scalpels. If a cat could grin, she was grinning. I heard a low growling purr from deep in her chest as she came around the desk toward me, eyes glinting.
My senses went into overdrive as adrenaline poured into my bloodstream. My arms were pinned behind me by the guards, but I pushed myself to my feet so fast that they eased their grip on me slightly to grab my shoulders and force me down again. That slight easing was all I needed. I twisted violently enough almost to wrench my arms from their shoulder sockets, but the pain was nothing. I yanked one arm free, although the guard’s claws raked bloody trails along its length.