Cosmopath - [Bengal Station 03]

by Eric Brown

  It continued its unremitting, inscrutable stare.

  “You won’t allow them handsets. And this...” She gestured around at the land on all sides. “All very quaint and rural, but they’re living like peasants. When these people came here they had all the latest technology. Where has all that gone, that expertise? Why don’t you want these people to... to progress?”

  She stopped in exasperation as the alien deigned not to reply.

  She stared at the creature; it was, she thought, the second cousin to a tree frog, a lot larger and darker green, but similar nevertheless; and they had managed to reduce a colony of twenty-second-century human beings to the status of agrarian land-workers.

  The Taoth had left their cities - abandoning their technology with them? - and retreated... somewhere. Vluta, whatever that was. And why had the rebels so eagerly wanted to communicate the fact of Vluta to the FNSA, and why had the Taoth and the colonists done everything to stop them?

  She tapped the shell that covered her handset. “And when are you going to let us use these again? Why did you...?” She stopped as something occurred to her. Perhaps the reason the Taoth had disabled their handsets was to prevent her communicating with the Indian ship, when the time came? If Tom was right, and the aliens did possess a telepathic capability, then they were a more formidable opposition than they appeared at first sight.

  She smiled at the irony of the situation; she knew now how uneasy Vaughan had felt, on having her read his every thought. The idea that the alien beside her might be telepathic made her more than a little uneasy. It would know what she planned, once she had the use of her handset again - calling in the Indian ship to lay claim to Landfall and to get her out of here... so what chance was there of the Taoth allowing that to happen?

  She decided, suddenly, that when she did eventually get off the damned planet and return to Kolkata, then she would go to Anish Lahore and tell him that her days of working for the Party were over. She wanted her tele-ability taken away. From then on she would devote herself to her academic studies.

  On discovering the secret of Landfall, she would tell him, she had discharged her obligation to Mother India.

  * * * *

  TWENTY-FOUR

  ULUTA

  Vaughan came awake and struggled into a sitting position.

  Das sat opposite him, head lolling with the motion of the cart. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” She tossed him a grapefruit-analogue.

  “How long have I slept?” He peeled the fruit and ate.

  “Around six hours, maybe more. I’ve been quizzing Tom.”

  “Learn much?”

  “The colonists down here occupy three caverns similar to this one, and number some ten thousand citizens in all. They farm the land, raise crops, and breed animals. They call the planet Landfall, unoriginally. The Taoth know it as Kalluta.”

  Vaughan glanced at the alien. Their guide was awake, seated at the rear of the cart and gazing back the way they had come.

  Das hesitated, and he knew she was contemplating the wisdom of telling him something.

  “What is it?”

  “Just that... they live a pretty egalitarian system here. They seem to want for nothing...”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  “But, Jeff, the Taoth don’t allow the colonists any form of technology. This was another thing that prompted the rift between the colonists and the rebels. The rebels were what you’d call progressive - but they were also politically right of centre, according to what Connor told Tom’s father. The Taoth didn’t want other humans coming here, and so influenced the colonists.”

  “Interesting.”

  “And they fixed these scabs to the colonists who had handsets.”

  “If they don’t want us getting our hands on their planet,” he said, “then they’re not likely to let us use our coms, are they?”

  She nodded. “They’re... they’re a primitive people, Jeff. My guess is that they were once technological, but since then they’ve devolved.”

  “And yet they have us... and the colonists... just where they want us.”

  He looked around at the limitless expanse of fields, the scattered farmsteads, the people working the land. “Did Tom say anything more about Vluta?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t ask him, but I don’t think he knows anything more than he told us.”

  Vaughan turned and looked back towards the jagged range of mountains they had crossed. “No sign of Chandrasakar?”

  “I’ve been keeping an eye out,” she replied. “They’d have taken a while to cross the savannah.

  It’ll be hours yet before they show themselves.”

  “We should warn Connor about them when we arrive.”

  She considered this. “I’ll tell them who and what Rab is. I’ll tell him that they should trust him about as much as they trusted the rebels.”

  Vaughan couldn’t suppress a smile. “And how will you describe yourself, and who you represent?”

  She shook her head, testily. “I’ll see how things pan out. Whatever happens, my government wouldn’t exploit these people as the Chandrasakar Organisation would.” She stared across at him. “And I’d appreciate it if you keep quiet and let me do the talking.”

  He smiled, then made a sardonic mime of locking his lips and tossing away the key.

  “But,” he said, gesturing to the back of the alien in the cart, “I wonder if our friends here will be as co-operative? If Tom’s right and they are telepathic...” He smiled. “Then they know all about us.”

  She muttered something to herself, lay back and closed her eyes.

  Five minutes later Tom turned in his seat, holding the reins with one hand and pointing with the other. “See the farm over there? That’s my father’s. We raise tams and grow beet. Biggest farm in the area.”

  Vaughan squinted at a ramshackle construction comprising a central two-storey section and two sprawling wings, with attached outbuildings and barns. “Some place,” he said.

  Tom beamed proudly. “I’ll be running the farm when my father retires,” he said.

  Vaughan considered Tom’s simple life, contrasting it with that of a farm boy in the US or Canada two centuries ago. Take away the aliens, and the enclosed subterranean environment, then the two would have been pretty similar.

  “How far are we from Connor’s place?” he asked.

  Tom indicated a range of hills a few kilometres ahead. “Connor’s manse is on Overlook Hill. Another hour away.”

  The hills folded and buckled and became, in the distance, a range of mountains, which enclosed the cavern on three sides.

  Das asked Tom, “Do you know how many caverns there are down here?”

  Tom thought about it. “My people have explored at least a dozen,” he said. “One beyond the other, all linked.” He shrugged. “The world’s vast, according to my father.”

  Das said, “Ten times the size of Earth, Tom.”

  The boy laughed. “Well then, how many caverns would fit into a planet ten times bigger than Earth? Thousands!”

  He envisaged this place in twenty years from now, if the FNSA or the Chandrasakar Organisation, or whoever else, were given free rein: the way of life of these people would be gone for ever, replaced by bustling cities servicing vast mining concerns and other industries.

  An hour later the cart began climbing a winding lane through the foothills, and soon an odd building came into view. It resembled many of the farms on the plain, with the addition of a barn door constructed from panels of the ship that had brought the colonists to Delta Cephei VII. Faded red, white, and blue letters, FNSA, adorned the door above the Federated flag: a field of red stripes with a big white on blue star in the top left corner.

  Tom saw Vaughan looking at the door. “Connor raised the best gurs in the land, before he retired. He kept them in there.”

  Vaughan smiled to himself.

  Tom brought the cart to a halt. “Connor’s always at home. He’ll be
expecting you. Just knock on the door.”

  Vaughan and Das jumped down, followed by the Taoth. Tom took up the reigns and clucked at the draught animal. He glanced down at Vaughan. “This is as far as I go. It was good talking.”

  Vaughan reached up and took the boy’s hand in a firm shake. “Good talking to you too, Tom.”

  Das, he noticed, was striding towards the front veranda of the farmhouse, the alien beside her.

  The boy watched Das walk away, then frowned down at Vaughan. He clearly wanted to say something, but found the words difficult. “I wonder-”

  Vaughan said, “You’re afraid that because we’re outsiders, from Earth, we’ll bring others here, change your way of life?”

  “My father did say that if the rebels got what they wanted...”

  “Tom,” Vaughan reassured him, “I’ll do my best to make sure that whatever happens my people won’t spoil things down here, okay?”

  The boy brightened and tugged the reins. As Vaughan lifted a hand and waved a farewell, he wondered at the wisdom of making such a rash promise.

  He hurried after Das and stepped onto the porch just as the front door opened and a tall, balding man - combining the gravitas of a starship captain with the down-at-home appearance of a subsistence farmer, garbed in home-made dungarees, straw hat and all - smiled out at them.

  He shook their hands and introduced himself, then bent to touch fingertips with the alien: they exchanged high, fluting words, during which Connor nodded and glanced at the strangers.

  “Come in. I’ve been expecting you, but I suspect young Tom’s told you all about that.” He led the way into the house, up a flight of rickety steps to a long veranda overlooking the vale.

  Connor spread an arm in a gesture encompassing the cavern. “Welcome to Landfall. Will you join me in a meal, and then we’ll proceed with the journey?”

  Das opened her mouth to say something, then had second thoughts.

  They sat at a table, and a young woman brought out a selection of breads, cheeses and a bowl of salad. Jugs of amber juice already stood upon the table. The Taoth absented itself from the meal and moved along the veranda; it dropped into a squat and stared out across the valley.

  Connor gestured at the laden table. “Please, join me.

  They ate, Vaughan taking bread and cheese and a beaker of sharp, sweet juice.

  Das said, “What exactly has the Taoth told you about us?”

  Connor smiled. Vaughan guessed the captain was in his eighties, thin and sinewy; he gave the impression of someone happy with the life of a smallholder, the nominal head of a thriving colony.

  “The Taoth,” he said, “are economical with their words. They say the bare minimum in order to convey their meaning, and sometimes one must... interpret. Three days ago Rath here informed me that a starship had landed from Earth, and that two people would be coming soon to the valley.”

  “That’s very interesting, Mr Connor,” Das said, “because we didn’t even know we’d be making the journey here.”

  Connor smiled, gesturing at the alien with a chunk of bread. “The Taoth are wise beyond our understanding,” he said.

  “Tom mentioned that they might be telepathic,” Vaughan said.

  Connor gave a phlegmatic gesture. “That might go some way to explaining their perspicacity.”

  Das leaned forward, impatiently pushing her plate to one side. “Mr Connor, what have the Taoth done to you people?”

  Connor looked perplexed. “Done?”

  “They disabled your handsets and proscribed technology. They’ve reduced you to living like... like peasants.”

  Connor smiled. “We are living the lives entirely suited to the environment in which we find ourselves. The old ways of Earth would not work here. The Taoth suggested this lifestyle, and we agreed to abide by it.”

  Das sat back, chewing on a crust of bread as she considered his words.

  Vaughan said, “Mr Connor, can you tell us what the Taoth want with us? Rath wasn’t exactly chatty on the way here.”

  “As I said, Rath came to me three days ago and mentioned your starship, and the imminence of your arrival. He counselled me and my people not to worry; that all would be well here, in time. He asked if I might assist him in transporting you through the caverns, to which I agreed.”

  Das said, “With all respect, that doesn’t answer the question.”

  Connor gave a nod of absolute understanding. “Parveen, I have learned over the course of more than two decades that the ways of the Taoth are often mysterious. They will impart only that which they wish you to know. I suggest patience, and reassure you that the Taoth are an honest and honourable people.”

  Vaughan raised his beaker to cover his smile at Das’s visible frustration.

  Connor ate with deliberation, and looked up at Das’s next question.

  “What can you tell us about the conflict with the rebel colonists, Mr Connor?”

  His aged face showed pain at the question. “It was a most unfortunate time in the founding of the colony,” he said. “We found that we were split into two factions, those who followed myself - the majority, I might add - and a minority who sided with Flannery, my ex-chief of security. Flannery and his men appropriated a telemetry rig and proceeded to send forth a message, intended for the FNSA. We managed, after the event and with the help of the Taoth, to track them down and destroy the apparatus. Since then the Greens have lived a life separate from the mainstream, one could say.”

  Das leaned forward. “The split was about what you’d found down here?” she said. “Tom mentioned Vluta...”

  Connor frowned, stroking a sunken cheek with a weathered forefinger, and Vaughan thought the man resembled a veteran Shakespearean actor playing a role. “Vluta, as no doubt Tom told you, is where the Taoth make their home.”

  Das sat back, exasperated. “He did say that. But I don’t understand why you wanted to suppress the knowledge of whatever it is you discovered. Why did Flannery want to communicate the finding to the FNSA?”

  Connor pantomimed an expression of exquisite forbearing. “My dear, for the very reason that I proscribed Flannery’s disseminating the information, cannot you comprehend my reluctance to tell you now?” He spread his hands. “What assurances do we have that you will not return to your ship and inform the Expansion of Landfall and Vluta?”

  Vaughan said, “Parveen, Mr Connor does have a valid point.”

  Das glared across at Vaughan, as if willing him dead.

  “If I gave you such a reassurance,” Das said, “that I will not return to the ship, that I will not inform the FNSA, of what was discovered here...”

  “Parveen,” Connor said with infinite charm, “how do I know that you are a representative of the FNSA? You might work for any one of a dozen Terran organisations, in which case of course you wouldn’t inform the FNSA. I might wear dungarees and breed gurs in my spare time, my dear, but I also captained a colonisation starship.” Behind the man’s charm, Vaughan saw, was a shrewd and calculating mind.

  “Very well, you have my reassurance that I will inform no one on Earth of what you so obviously wish to keep secret.”

  Vaughan looked at Das, wondering whether he should intervene to foil her obvious lie.

  Connor smiled. “In that case, I think you should ask Rath; he is, after all, a representative of the people to whom Vluta belongs.”

  Connor called across to the alien in a series of high, mellifluous notes.

  The alien raised itself from its squatting position and bobbed across the veranda. It paused before the table, then climbed onto a chair. Clearly not accustomed to such furniture, it dropped into a squat and regarded Das with its massive eyes.

  Then it turned to Connor and spoke briefly.

  Connor smiled, then translated, “Rath says that he will gladly take you to Vluta, so that you might see it for yourselves.”

  Das blinked. “And we have his assurance of our safety afterwards? He’ll show us, and we’ll be free to go
?”

  Connor spoke to Rath, who replied with a single fluted word.

  “You have his assurance,” Connor said.

  The alien spoke again, then slipped from the table.

  Connor reported, “Rath says that, if you have quite finished, then we should be on our way.”

  Rath left the verandah and moved down the stairs, Das hurrying to catch up. On the veranda, Vaughan touched Connor’s arm as the old man was about to step into the house. “But if Rath shows us what you expressly want to keep a secret-”