The Spheres of Heaven tmp-2

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The Spheres of Heaven tmp-2 Page 36

by Charles Sheffield


  “Tell them that tomorrow morning, if nothing has happened here, I propose to take another look at the alien encampment. Tell Chan to give me a full day. If I’m not back then — well, then it will be up to him.”

  Danny nodded. “Good luck.” He closed his helmet, took Vow-of-Silence’s body from Deb, and headed without another word into the water.

  She watched until he was waist deep, then shoulder deep, until at last his small figure with its outsized burden vanished below the surface. Then she turned and faced inland.

  The sun was moving behind a line of clouds to the west, and the evening light suddenly dimmed. The dark vegetation ahead seemed gloomy and impenetrable. As she retraced her steps to where they had left their supplies, Deb told herself that she was being foolish. Danny Casement’s talents included cunning and a certain devious charm, but he would be absolutely useless in any sort of fight. So why did she feel so much less sure of things now that he was gone?

  Maybe because she had no one to boss around now. When you were organizing what other people did, there was less time to worry about yourself.

  Deb came to the big supply case in the clearing that marked their original base. It was exactly as she and Danny had left it, with no sign of Eager Seeker. As she pulled out a folding chair and sat down, she could hear unnerving rustles and see small movements in the plants around her. In the growing dusk the native animal life became more active.

  It suddenly occurred to Deb, much to her surprise, that she was very hungry. No one had thought to eat since they left the Hero’s Return over twelve hours ago.

  She opened the supply case, pulled out four sealed containers, and examined them. A solar system culinary selection: shellfish from the nurseries of Marslake; Europan sea-kale, not her favorite but a highly nutritious vegetable; korlia , the richly flavored protein that started life as a warm-blooded engineered plant in Earth’s polar regions; and finally, beer made from the synthetic grains of the Oort Harvesters. On second thought, Deb reached into the supply case and pulled out another container of that.

  She ate and drank slowly and thoughtfully. Now and again she looked up at some faint sound in the scrub, thinking that maybe it signaled the return of some of Eager Seeker’s components. It never was.

  The sun was on the horizon now, and full night could be no more than an hour away. Before dark she would need to pull out a sleeping bag and a light in case she needed it before morning. There were no weapons in the supply case — the Stellar Group aliens would have vetoed those — but Deb had all she needed hidden away inside her suit.

  She leaned her head back to drain the second container of beer. As she did so, something rushed out of the plants around the clearing and jumped into her lap.

  She gasped, dropped the beer, and flicked a needle gun from the wrist of her suit. She had it aimed and was triggering the release when she saw her assailant.

  “Scruffy! Where have you been?” She picked up the animal and held it to her chest. “You fat furball, I never dreamed I’d be so glad to see you.” The ferret snuggled close and whined. “I know, I know. I’m not your human of choice. But Tarbush isn’t here.”

  Deb glanced in the direction of the alien encampment. “I hope that your lord and master is all right, but we can’t find out about that until tomorrow. Now I think it’s time for you and me to settle down for the night.”

  She placed Scruffy on the floor, removed the flat package of a sleeping bag from the supply case, and waited as it inflated. The expanding bag gave a hiss like a striking snake, making the ferret leap for cover.

  “Coward.” Deb laughed. It was good to have someone around you more nervous than you were. “Come on, Scruffy. Let’s see if we can get some sleep.”

  She didn’t have high hopes. There was too much strangeness around her, too many frightening issues waiting for morning before they could be resolved. She lay on her back, the ferret a warm oval curled on her belly.

  The light faded. As night moved on, the mysterious spheres filled the night sky of Limbo. It was Deb’s first view of them except on a display screen. She studied the globes. They were far less bright than a star or a planet, but far bigger and far more diffuse. She stretched out a hand at arm’s length, and found that she could barely span the biggest one. The spheres were so pale, they seemed to hover at the very edge of color.

  Deb closed her eyes. This was what she and Chan and the other team members had hoped to find, back in the happy days before the quarantine. All they had dreamed of, and more. This was not just an alien star or planet, it was an alien universe.

  She had intended to open her eyes again, to study in more detail the intriguing spheres of Limbo’s heavens. Somehow it did not happen. Instead she drifted away to other thoughts. What were they doing now, back on the Hero’s Return ? Had Danny arrived, to deliver Vow-of-Silence for treatment and make his report? How was Chan taking it? He was sure to be beside himself, cursing Dag Korin for letting her go without him. He took every responsibility personally, as if he had to solve it by himself without assistance. He didn’t realize that a partner was someone to share problems, and triumphs, and defeats. Maybe defeats most of all.

  Deb drifted into sleep. The spheres of heaven glowed pale above her, wheeling their stately course across the night sky.

  * * *

  She became conscious all at once, rolling instinctively to her right and already holding a weapon without knowing what had wakened her. It was deep night. Clouds must have moved in, because the glimmer of the sky spheres had gone and when she opened her eyes she could see nothing at all. Off past her feet she heard Scruffy give a warning hiss.

  “Now then, no need for all the excitement,” a cheerful voice said. “Here, I’ll put a light on if it makes you feel better.”

  A bright yellow-green glow lit up the night. Deb, shielding her eyes against it, saw a male human standing about six feet away from her holding a luminous cylinder. As her eyes adjusted she realized that it was the same person as she had seen the previous day, waving and talking to Chrissie and Tarbush.

  “Friday Indigo?” she said tentatively.

  “The one and only.” He aimed a casual kick at Scruffy, who darted away into the low-growing plants. “Get rid of the vermin, and we can talk. I’m Friday Indigo. Who are you?”

  “My name is Deb Bisson.” Deb was reluctant to say much until she knew what was going on. Better to ask questions. “I think I saw you earlier. Weren’t you down in the encampment?”

  “You got it.” Indigo took a step forward into the clearing, so that he could crouch next to Deb. “I was there to greet your friends on behalf of The One. Pity you weren’t with them.”

  That was a matter of opinion.

  “I saw them shot. Are they alive?”

  “Sure they are. Mind you, they’re not in as good shape as I am, because they haven’t had a chance to meet with The One yet.”

  That too might be a matter of opinion. Deb was at last getting a close-up of Friday Indigo. He claimed to be in good shape, but he certainly didn’t look it. Someone who had been drinking three nights in a row and then lost a major fight might appear the way he did, but chances are they would be in better condition. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was pale. Trickles of dried blood ran from his ears down to his neck. His hair straggled dirty over his forehead, his clothes were full of rips and tears, and he trailed his left leg as he walked.

  He didn’t appear dangerous, but Deb had quietly been preparing her weapons. If he tried to put a move on her he wouldn’t know what hit him. On the other hand, she had no idea what else might be lurking out there in the dark.

  “Who is this The One that you keep mentioning?”

  “The leader.”

  “Leader of what?”

  “Why, leader of the Malacostracans.” He spoke as though that was glaringly self-evident.

  “The Marla — costrans?”

  “Malacostracans. The people who built the encampment on the other side of the hill. The
people who live there. If you saw your two friends shot — their own fault, I told them not to run — then you must have seen the Malacostracans for yourself. Only Level Threes and Level Fours, of course. Nothing like Two-four or The One.”

  Deb had no idea what he was talking about, but she didn’t like his tone of voice. It was too self-satisfied, too admiring of the shell-backed aliens.

  She said, “Did you come here because you want me to meet with them?”

  He laughed. “Good heavens, no. They hardly need the ones they’ve got. I’m here because The One wants more information about humans and our universe than I can provide.”

  “I can’t give you information.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “To find out if you might have a suit I could borrow. You see, mine was damaged and I can’t use it anymore to travel underwater. I have to do that tonight. Do you have one?”

  “Maybe.” Deb knew quite well that the supply case contained a couple of spare suits. “Why would you want such a thing?”

  “Because without it, I can’t possibly go to your ship and talk to the leaders of your party. You are the people, aren’t you, who launched the orbiters?”

  “What if we are? Why would you want to talk to us?”

  Friday stared at her pityingly. “To negotiate, of course. It’s my job to obtain access to your ship’s data bank. I would have used the one on the Mood Indigo , but the poor old thing’s a bit beat up and I can’t get the information systems to work. Don’t worry, I have things to offer you people in return.”

  He snapped his fingers briskly, as though his proposal to negotiate on behalf of aliens was the most natural thing in the world, and went on, “Now, Deb Bisson, do you have a suit for me or don’t you? If you do, let’s get me into it and I’ll be on my way. I can’t afford to waste time — The One needs results.”

  She had to make a decision, and in zero time. “I have a suit for you. It’s in the supply case. But I should come with you to point out the quickest way to the ship. And I have to go to the bathroom before we leave.”

  “I don’t mind waiting while you do that.”

  “Well, I mind. Take the suit and put it on when you get to the beach. I’ll see you there in two minutes.”

  “Two minutes. All right. No longer.”

  He rummaged in the supply case, pulled out a lightweight suit, and limped away. He held his yellow lamp high, and he was humming to himself.

  Deb looked around her. As she became used to the darkness she was able to make out the line of the ridge against the sky and the top fronds of nearby bushes, but everything at ground level was invisible.

  “Scruffy?” she whispered. “I can’t see you, but can you hear me? Come on, girl. I don’t have much time.”

  There was a rustle close to her feet, and a small form brushed against her leg. She bent down and slipped a flat metal ring onto the ferret’s collar.

  “I can’t understand you, the way that Tarbush can. But I think you understand me. You’re on your own now. Go find him. Follow his trail.” Dark intelligent eyes gazed up at Deb. “You heard me. Find your idol. Go sniff out Chrissie and the Tarb. This isn’t much I’m giving them, but it’s the best I can do. I’ll be back for all of you as soon as I can.”

  29: ALIEN

  The ear-splitting drone rang through the whole ship, blocking out speech until it finally ended.

  Dag Korin had paused in the act of filling the last of half a dozen glasses with whiskey. “So I’m wrong again,” he said, in the dead silence that followed the drone. “Seems we’re not done for tonight after all. It’s the main airlock again. Dalton, would you?”

  Chan was already on the way, racing back the way he had come an hour earlier. When he reached the lock it was still cycling. As the hatch opened and he saw Deb’s face behind the suit’s visor he let out an explosive gasp of relief. He was reaching to grab her in a bear hug, ignoring the fact that her suit streamed water, when he saw the second figure standing behind her in the lock.

  It was a man, much too short to be Tarbush Hanson.

  “Who the hell—”

  “Friday Indigo,” Deb said loudly. Then, opening her helmet, she put a finger to her lips and mouthed, “Chrissie and Tarb alive. Don’t talk, take cues from me.”

  The man limped forward and snapped open his visor, to reveal a tired face whose smiling mouth was stained and crusted with a sticky purple residue. “Friday Indigo, captain and owner of the Mood Indigo. I need to talk to whoever is in charge of this ship. Is that you?”

  “No. I’m the second in command.” Chan glanced at Deb and saw her nod. “But I can take you to General Korin.”

  “Let’s go, then.” Indigo glanced about him with pale, intense eyes, as though drinking in every detail of the Hero’s Return. “I don’t have much time.”

  Deb urged him to go ahead of her and said, “Before anyone will talk to you, Mr. Indigo, you’re going to have to explain what happened to the crew members who were captured on shore.”

  “I told you, they’re alive.”

  “And safe?”

  “Safer than they would be here. This dump looks like it’s falling apart.”

  Deb, walking slightly behind Chan and Friday Indigo, could not argue with that. In the time she had been away, less than twenty-four hours, the air had become more clammy, the corridor smelled stale and rancid, and water dripped from every overhead feature.

  Chan, leading the way, took his cue from Deb and did not speak until they reached Dag Korin’s quarters. When he entered the room everyone sat in exactly the same position as when he had left. Their attention was rigidly focused on the door, and all the whiskey glasses were empty.

  “General Korin.” Chan had decided as they walked that the less he said, the better. Everyone could see for themselves that Deb was with him, while Chrissie and Tarbush were not. “This is Captain Indigo, of the Mood Indigo. He needs to talk with you.”

  “General. Pleased to meet you.” Friday nodded. His eyes scanned the others in the group. He frowned and seemed slightly puzzled when he saw Bony Rombelle and Liddy Morse, but Gressel, squat and dark green, drew most of his attention. He stared at the Angel for a few moments, then abruptly sat down without being invited. His eyes blinked.

  “General Korin,” he said, in a different tone. “It is my understanding that you are the leader of this force. I wish to speak with you on behalf of the Malacostracans.”

  “Of the what ?” Dag Korin bristled.

  “Malacostracans. Whom we call the People.”

  “Never heard of ’em.”

  Bony Rombelle, unexpectedly, said, “I have.”

  He and Liddy had been sitting inconspicuously against one wall. Now everyone stared, and he blushed and went on, “Well, not actually heard about them, but read about them. And not these particular things, just the name. I think the word must have come out of a translation unit, because Malacostraca is the official descriptor for a class of Earth crustaceans. It includes animals like, you know, crabs and lobsters.”

  Dag Korin scowled at him, and he subsided. Liddy nudged him in the side and whispered, “I was right. You do know every useless piece of information in the universe.”

  “Captain Indigo,” Korin said, “you can call your Mala-what-nots anything you damn well please, and it won’t cut any ice with me. First, let me say that I’m sorry you lost your own ship.”

  “Where did you get that idea?” Friday looked puzzled.

  “Our computer tried to communicate with it, without success.”

  “The com antennas were smashed in the storm. But the Malacostracans lifted the whole ship onto land, and the Mood Indigo is in pretty fair shape.” Friday stared around him. “I don’t have any use for it now, of course, but last time I looked at my ship it was in much better condition than this heap of junk.”

  Korin’s jaw muscles tightened. “Captain Indigo, I was merely being polite when I mentioned your
ship. To be honest, I don’t give a rat’s ass what the creatures on shore did for it or to it. What concerns me is that they disabled two of our orbiters, without provocation and without warning. And they captured two of our people. True, or false?”

  “I would prefer to say, they have temporarily detained them. Your crew members are alive and well. Upon the completion of satisfactory arrangements, they will be returned.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s a `satisfactory arrangement’?”

  “I will explain.” Friday Indigo’s voice changed again, becoming more formal and precise. “To demonstrate good intention, this information is provided in advance of any agreement between us. I will now make certain statements, to any of which you may if you choose offer objections or countersuggestions.

  “First, neither you nor the People are native to this planet, or even to this universe.

  “Second, this planet is itself an anomaly, in that it is able to support life. The overall structure of this universe is unfavorable for both the occurrence and the persistence of life. This universe is not therefore a suitable site for widespread colonization.

  “Third, the People realize that the universe from which humans came is highly suited for the support of living creatures, including the People; more so, in fact, than any other of their expeditions have reported to date in the exploration of other universes.”

  Korin’s head lifted. “Where did they get information about where we came from?”

  “I provided it to them,” Friday said calmly. “However, even with all the help that I could give, the People lack enough knowledge of how you came here to perform a Link transition. Let me continue. Fourth, if you do not obtain help from somebody, you’ll never be able to go home.”

  “And how the hell do they know that ?” The veins in the sides of Korin’s neck were bulging.

 

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