Outreach tdt-3

by Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  //I’ll try,// replied his Emulator.

  ft was unreasonable to ask such precision work of her after —““all she’d been through. /I’ll help,// Jindigar offered, and worked with her to establish Emulation of Herald, Cassrian, and human, while at the same time calling the Receptor to focus. Jindigar’s own work was sloppy. Zannesu’s shock was wearing off, the pain and horror of his loss sinking in. Darllanyu was in a daze. Even Venlagar could barely manage to grip the linkages as Jindigar set them. But gradually the meaning of what Krinata was witnessing came through.

  “Friend!” piped Chinchee repeatedly. “Scared. Need help.” And each time he repeated it he added several whistled versions of Jindigar’s name.

  While he went on ever more urgently the others argued the meaning of his message, occasionally pleading with Krinata to say something.

  Finally Jindigar opened to his Outreach and, hampered by inflexible human articulation, sang out in the Native’s language, “//Jindigar can hear you. Remember Oliat?//”

  Krinata coughed at what those few phrases did to her throat while all the rest stared at her, amazed. Chinchee stopped in mid-phrase, dashed up to Krinata, threw himself down prone in front of her, and, with the hivebinder scurrying onto his back, did three push-ups. Everyone who had not been with them on the trek across the continent from the desert where Ephemeral Truth had crashed, laughed. But those who had been there when Chinchee led them to the hive refuge lined up to do push-ups back at Chinchee.

  //Jindigar, I don’t think I can do it.//

  //Relax, Krinata. I doubt Chinchee expects you to.//

  But the Native was obviously delighted with the others’ response. As he rose to his feet he warbled, “Oh, Great Jindigar, your hive will prosper, your memory will tunnel through eternity. Your generosity will be recorded for all time.”

  “What did he say?” asked someone.

  “Wait,” admonished one of the Dushau. “Let the Oliat question him.”

  Storm added, “Somebody go get Terab. She’s probably in the field, trying to prevent an all-out attack on the Natives.”

  Peripherally the Oliat knew that was exactly what Terab was doing. And she was succeeding. Apparently people had finally begun to grasp that little could be gained on this planet by frontal assault. Or perhaps the Imperial troopers who had experienced the wrath of the hivebinders were unwilling to stir that up again. “//Tell her,//” called the Oliat, “//that our attack on the hive-bleeders has made the Natives less hostile toward us.//”

  One of the Lehiroh women with burned hands turned to go, saying, “I heard your report. I’ll tell her.”

  Chinchee carolled, “Did I hear a familiar name? The name of Greatfursixarms?”

  “//You are the most talented of all Heralds, Chinchee. The name of Terab is far greater than Jindigar’s, for she speaks for this hive, not Jindigar, and not the Oliat. She will decide if this new hive can stay.//”

  “Newhiveswarm cannot leave. Cannot move again. Greatfursixarms must know. Swarmed at startime, and settled new land on the plain. Built hive-dome, began new life.” Chinchee*S voice took on the cadence of a bard reciting a long series of great historical events, for Heralds were also the newsbringers of the hives. “Flood waters came, high and higher, swift as wind, shattered hive-dome. Survivors flee, across plain, into strange land of hive-bleeders. Chinchee come, fight hive-bleeders, lead newhiveswarm to safety with fellow hive-people. Newhiveswarm need friend, need help, need peace. Here, Chinchee, Jindigar, made peace. Here, newhiveswarm find peace we made here.”

  All so logical!

  “//Why did the newhiveswarm smash into our hive and hurt and destroy?//”

  Chinchee folded to the ground, his knees sticking out at an angle, his head drooping. Through Llistyien Emulation the Oliat knew this was shame. His voice was tremulous as he told them, “Hivemind, stripped of hive, so many dead to plainwater, so many dead to hive-bleeders, so many dead to newlifemaking, younghivemind broken, hurting, terrified, sensed throb of newlifemaking, sensed safe goodplace. Chinchee is Herald, not of younghivemind—not of hive. Herald cannot command hive.”

  He was trying to keep his story simple, but even so, Jindigar knew they weren’t getting all the nuances. One thing was clear. The worldcircle itself had attracted the swarming hive irresistibly. The Oliat’s projection of Renewal energies into the circle had probably triggered the swarm’s headlong dash toward what they perceived as the oasis of safety the Herald had promised them. And they had been too mad with the need to settle again in time for new births to heed Chinchee’s objections.

  “//We understand now, Chinchee.//” Krinata’s voice cracked on the high note, and she doubled over in a fit of raw, throaty coughing.

  “Is she sick again?” It was Terab striding into the outer court on four legs. She was wearing a field worker’s cloak over a tool harness and carrying a small grenade-thrower under one arm.

  While Cyrus explained, Jindigar told Krinata, //I’m sorry. If anybody else could have done that//

  //It’s all right,// she returned. Cyrus handed her a cup of tea the herbalist had brewed, and she accepted it gratefully. It soothed her throat, and she could speak again by the time Terab was ready to hear what Chinchee had to say.

  Folding her walking legs under her, Terab faced them both and heard the Oliat out before objecting, “I don’t care how, but find some way of explaining to him that they’ve got to move. We don’t want neighbors that can blow our minds to spacedust. We can’t let them have the ships. ‘Specially not now.”

  “//Chinchee is learning Cassrian. In a few weeks he may be able to negotiate some sort of access treaty. That’s the best 1 think you can hope for.//” It seemed a forlorn hope-. For all Chinchee’s skill as a Herald, he knew nothing about different cultures on his own world, let alone assimilating different species. He’d never have enough Cassrian to handle something delicate like this.

  “Krinata—” started Terab, then corrected herself. “Oliat, listen to me. While you were saving Eithlarin, four people have come down with Krinata’s Fever—” She broke off again to apologize, “Krinata, if you can hear me, I’m sorry, but that’s what they’re calling that fever you had after the clickerhive attacked us. The lab just identified the mutated strain that’s turned up now. It’s a bad one, Jindigar—vectored across species, different life stages, too complicated for an old spaceship captain to understand. But one thing’s sure—it’s got a short incubation time.

  “The children are malnourished—it’s going to hit them hard. And the Lehiroh are frightened for those nursing infants—because they’ve sacrificed their oil. What drugs we have are on those ships. The lab was working on Jindigar’s blood and asking for more Dushau blood. We thought we had it under control—but now… And one way or another we’ve got to rescue those lab techs.”

  Overwhelming despair swept through the Oliat, sapping the very last of their strength. Krinata buried her face in her hands, needing to cry and not daring to unleash the turbulence among the Oliat. //Jindigar, oh, Jindigar.//

  Cyrus pulled his hand back from touching her and offered, “I’ll make them change the name. It wasn’t your doing, Krinata.”

  “//She knows,//” answered the Oliat with Krinata, and Jindigar added, “//Terab, your lab techs are dead. And—we lost Eithlarin.//” Reception wavered as Zannesu recoiled into himself. Jindigar closed down his link to Receptor as much as he dared and told the Oliat along with the ephemerals, “//We can’t, Terab. We simply cannot.//”

  He’d said that before. He’d lost credibility as, time after time, they’d responded to new emergencies. He saw it in Terab’s dark eyes as she gazed at Krinata. But then Krinata met her eyes, and Terab believed. Jindigar could see it, even though Holot was not included in the multieniulation. Stricken, Terab looked into failure, final and absolute. But she said, “I’m sorry. I thought—since you were still functioning, I thought…”

  “//Trinarvil has been able to take Office–but only very temp
orarily.//”

  Terab understood something of the problems Dushau had with colonizing. She accepted that. “You’ve done enough miracles for us. 1 guess we’re on our own now.” She rose. “I’ll send someone to find Shorwh. Maybe he can get through to Chinchee.” To the Outriders she said, “Take care of him. He may be the most important Native on this planet.”

  As they watched her leave Jindigar addressed the two Dushau with the litter. “//It doesn’t seem that Krinata can walk back to us.//”

  They left Storm to set the other Dushau’s broken arm and carried Krinata back to the Temple.

  After a few hours’ rest under Trinarvil’s therapy lamps, some solid food, and endless amounts of herbal potions, they were able to join Zannesu in grieving Eithlarin. It helped, but even by late afternoon of the next day, Zannesu was still glassy-eyed and sluggish in his responses. Jindigar didn’t want to adjourn, leaving him like that, and didn’t want to try the Dissolution until Zannesu could work.

  They were gathered in the Temple near the new, enlarged worldcircle, their Dushau Outriders on guard outside the front entry. The Oliat formed up around Jindigar in working array, silting cross-legged on the floor. Jindigar surveyed his officers, clean and neatly bandaged, dressed in carefully patched clothes. None of them were in much better shape than Zannesu. It was u good thing, he reflected, that they had worked past exhaustion, considering the forces they had stirred up among themselves, trying to save Eithlarin.

  There wasn’t a trace of sexual energy left in any of them. Perhaps it would leave them in peace until they’d Dissolved.

  Jindigar put it to his Oliat. //My judgment is impaired.

  I’m no longer fit to Center.// Jindigar glanced at Dar. The feeling of Dushaun emanating from the worldcircle was strong enough to set off whole trains of association for them both. It wouldn’t take much to stir any of them again. //But it seems to me that we’d best not delay any longer.//

  Krinata objected. //The colony needs us. Isn’t there some way we can at least* go and talk to the hive? I don’t want to go out there to live with that sitting on the doorstep—and with the fever loose…//

  Venlagar answered, //It isn’t up to Jindigar and Darllanyu

  to deal with these matters right now. It really isn’t their responsibility—nor Zannesu’s, either. That’s a fact they’re having a hard time facing too.//

  III can’t face it,// announced Darllanyu, looking straight at Jindigar. //Krinata’s right. We should at least try to discover something to help.//

  Ill have made too many wrong decisions in the midst of operations. I don’t dare take you back into the field.//

  Darllanyu turned to the worldcircle. //And do you call this a wrong decision?//

  Ill didn’t do this! It just—happened. I didn’t know it was even possible to bring one world through another world’s circle!//

  //Listen to yourself,// argued Darllanyu. //You performed according to the highest Aliom ideals—you executed a “strike”—acting and reacting perfectly. You’ve worked three thousand years to develop that ability. Why should you be surprised when it produces the very serendipity Aliom promises?//

  Trinarvil passed her hand through the zone above the circle. //Dar, I don’t think he realizes what he’s done. He hasn’t suffered much, yet, from dysattunement.//

  //He may never now. Maybe no one will.// Darllanyu rose and stepped into the circle, her form instantly enveloped in the shrouding whiteness.

  Jindigar’s breath caught in his throat, for despite the bandage slanted over one side of her head, she was the image of the bride awaiting the marriage trial. He almost didn’t register Trinarvil’s comment. //Maybe it’s not a myth that Dushaun was colonized…. Jindigar has discovered a way it could have been done! He’s brought through to Phanphihy that overtone which we think of as Dushaun, but which is really from our planet of origin. I wonder if even Threntisn’s Archive has anything on that!//

  Darllanyu moved out of the circle, and Jindigar released his breath. She came and folded herself down before him. Her nearness sent a strange new kind of quiver through him, and he knew, suddenly, that he’d taken a giant leap into Renewal with the Eithlarin operation.

  //Jindigar, I maligned you that night, before we tried for Eithlarin. You are nothing less than an accomplished and dedicated Aliom Priest. No one else could have done this. I trust you—in the field—or anywhere.//

  //No, Dar, you were right. I’ve discovered that a lot of people I haven’t been listening to may have been right about me all along.// Like my father, for example. Jindigar was acutely aware of Krinata. He had the linkages open evenly, trying to rest their nerves. Krinata, sensing an intimacy in their words, was feeling embarrassed, as if she were eavesdropping. //Zunre, I’ve begun to have the kind of self-revelations that generally come beyond the onset of Renewal. Dar’s insights into the deeper truths about me are very valuable to me. I want to spend this Renewal with her.//

  //And I with him,// responded Dar formally, as if they had never made the announcement before.

  Their eyes met, and all the friction was gone between them. Perhaps they would now settle easily into full Renewal. The promise made Jindigar eager enough to have forgotten the precarious position of the colony. But Darllanyu finally saw the change in him and pulled back, moving to the Formulator’s position. //But first we must discover what can be done about I he hive, Chinchee doesn’t stay anywhere very long. When he leaves, the colony will have no means whatever of talking to the hive. With communication there’s a chance for an alliance.//

  //And it’s up to us to find a way to communicate, // concluded Krinata, //before we Dissolve.//

  There was a set to her features and a hardness in her gaze that made Jindigar feel she was about to challenge Center again. //You don’t know what you’re saying, Krinata. You’re talking about suicide—group suicide. If we go on, there’ll be no hope for any of us to survive Dissolution.//

  Very calmly Darllanyu questioned that. //How do you know we haven’t passed that point already?//

  TEN

  Historian’s Method

  Darllanyu gazed steadily at Krinata, illicit Center whose presence already condemned at least some of them to Incompletion– death. The Formulator’s dread was so cold, it was a calm that spoke as loudly as the riotous sensuality her condition broadcast through the links.

  His mate’s chill acceptance tapped a still quietude Jindigar hadn’t known was at the center of the gibbering fear knotted inside him. He confessed with growing astonishment at the deeply mature tone of his voice, III don’t know I haven’t long since sacrificed all our lives, just by accepting Krinata into Office. There is no way to predict what will happen when*a dual-Center Oliat tries to Dissolve. Sometimes a few officers survive. I have been hoping to minimize our losses—only hoping.//

  He felt Dar’s scrutiny rake through him, reassessing him, and simultaneously her very identity shifted, sending starbursts sparkling through the linkages. So that’s what it looks like when Renewal compels realization of an error. An Oliat couldn’t function in the field with such disruptions to the linkages.

  //Why hope?// challenged Darllanyu. //Remember, our objective is not to survive but to implant a colony—a Dushau multicolony, the first of its kind. Raichmat’s zunre agreed this is a necessary step for Dushaun. We are moving in a riptide of history. And always at such points, some die that the concept may live. Jindigar—maybe the Historians have a healthier attitude toward Completion than Aliom. Maybe we shouldn’t cling to ourselves so much as to the currents that are carrying us.//

  Jindigar flicked his attention to Krinata. They all knew she considered herself Takora/Ontarrah reborn, but they didn’t know how close he was to accepting that as a fact. //Dar, you don’t believe that if we die, we will be reborn ephemeral?// So sacrificing our lives for this colony would be so trivial that to refuse to do it would be such a crime against the Laws of Nature that we’d lose our chance at Completion. He couldn’t accept that.<
br />
  Ill think,// she replied, //we must admit that we do not know what we don’t know. But we must act on what we do know—our objective—to begin a society where Dushau and ephemeral are bound into a single unit designed to protect this world from the galaxy, and the galaxy from this world, until they can be united into one. Raichmat’s Oliat knew this planet could not be colonized except by Dushau, but that even we could not survive here as a single species. Raichmat’s knew what the price would be. You were Outreach to Raichmat don’t you remember?//

  He remembered. It had been a daring vision rejected by therest of Dushaun because so many Dushau would die Incomplete in any attempt to colonize. But he had known that in such a project—the welding of disparate species into a whole, the protecting of the helpless, the riding of the currents of evolution—lay his Completion. He had known that ever since the day he’d first met a living ephemeral.

  Through the open linkages the thoughts and emotions of the others became his own. Venlagar and Llistyien at last confronted the possibility that Krinata really was Takora. Trinarvil puzzled over why, if one Dushau had become ephemeral, no others had ever been identified. Zannesu deplored his eagerness to offer his life, knowing it stemmed from the amputation of his mate but finding no surcease in that. And Krinata restrained her impulse to lead them into one more effort, as if she were Center.

  Ill am Priest and given to the processes of Aliom. Dar, without benefit of priesthood, has seen what I could not. Paradoxical as it seems, have no other way to Completion but to give my life to this deflection of the stream of history, as if I were Historian too./ The truth of what he’d just said burst upon him through a dam of resistance he hadn’t known was there. He saw his own death and knew he had to surrender to it with no thought of surviving. Is this what Takora went through?

  He saw a quizzical smile touch Krinata’s lips, but she politely concealed her sharp white teeth. Suddenly she was no longer restraining herself from Center, for she knew he was committed now to the same course that she was.