“There,” I said. A small cluster of lights emerged from beneath the boardwalk. Three more came from the water.
Nnnnnn-gt-vvv furled its wings and dropped to the sand.
Chulzh’th and Grandfather both shouted when they saw me. I wanted to fling myself into his arms, kneel at her feet and beg advice. Instead, I mutely held out my hand and suffered them both to check whether I was indeed myself. Then my friends surrounded me, Charlie and Audrey and Trumbull and Spector, asking questions too quickly for me to answer. Nnnnnn-gt-vvv and Clara hung back, waiting out the flurry of concerned family.
“Enough.” S’vlk’s voice cut through. “Aphra, explain. Unless this meigo would like to.”
“I would like it,” said Nnnnnn-gt-vvv, “if you wouldn’t use that word. What are we supposed to be an ‘abomination’ against, anyway?”
“Khur S’vlk,” I said. “Please be at peace. Nnnnnn-gt-vvv is an ally for now, and it sounds as if we need one.”
The explanation took a while. Holiday food, simple picnic fare brought in anticipation of a happier feast, circulated while I talked. I hadn’t expected to have an appetite, but found myself craving the physicality of salmon and peaches and tarragon bread. The taste of oil and the texture of grain reminded me of myself, and of the hands that had prepared them, and the connections between us.
A few minutes in, the elders’ heads swiveled, and Grandfather stood up. “Caleb Nghadri!”
When I looked out from the boardwalk I saw him, and Deedee. A thread of my tangled emotions eased loose.
Caleb’s expression was grim, though, as they sat among us. “What’s that doing here?” he asked of Nnnnnn-gt-vvv.
“Helping,” I said briefly. “The situation with the Outer Ones has changed, and Nnnnnn-gt-vvv and Clara came to tell me about it.” I nodded at the two of them in brief if belated introduction.
“Well, that explains … something,” said Deedee.
“You’ll be furious, I’m sure,” Caleb told me, “but we tried to go back for Neko. It wasn’t right to make her wait, and I thought—”
“We thought,” said Deedee, “that sometimes a person needs to be told that they’re missed. Or needs to be rescued from something they thought they could handle on their own.”
Grandfather growled deep in his throat. “What must I do to keep my grandchildren from casting off in hurricanes?”
Caleb bowed his head. “Pull people from the water before the storm starts.”
“Which is what we hoped to do,” said Deedee. “We figured out the general location of their mine from your description, and we searched until we saw their guards. But when we got there, it felt … I can’t explain it, and maybe we were just imagining things. The Outer One lair felt wrong, and not only the wards you told us about.”
“She told me that if your plan doesn’t even survive going near the enemy, you regroup,” said Caleb. “So we’re here, regrouping. Now we need to do something, no more waiting for everyone to be ready. Do your new friends know what changed?”
Reluctantly I explained the conflict in the mine. Caleb’s jangling eagerness for action, much as it matched my own, made the Outer Ones’ civil war no easier to talk about, and gave me no insight into how to appease Mary’s anger.
“She knows, now,” said Trumbull. It was half statement, half question.
“Yes. I tried to explain why we didn’t tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. I can’t really blame her. If someone hadn’t trusted me with something that important … but no matter how I examine my choices, I come back to the fact that they weren’t trustworthy, and still aren’t.” I checked Spector’s reaction—he’d agreed with my judgment, originally, but that didn’t mean he’d be happy to hear me express such a blunt opinion of his colleagues. But I found no disapproval; he simply watched me curiously.
Trumbull stood. “I have to go to her.”
“Professor,” said Audrey, “that doesn’t sound like a great idea.”
“They didn’t want anything to do with any of us,” I said. “They held me at gunpoint. If anything, they have more reason to be upset with you.”
“No. I need to talk with Mary about this. I’ve wanted to from the start. What happened to her was done with my body and my brain.”
“Yes,” I tried. “But what your guest did isn’t your—”
“No. It was done with my body and my brain. I’m the one who’s studied in the Archives, and who’s been trying to recover what I learned. If anyone can actually help her, it’s me. Now that she knows what happened to her, we can finally work together on the problem. You all can figure out the diplomatic and sociopolitical issues, and I’m sure you’ll do the right thing, and I’ll help however you need. But right now, I’m going to find Mary and pay the debt I’ve owed her for six months.”
I couldn’t argue. “Go carefully.”
S’vlk gave her a respectful nod and made a sign with her fingers. Trumbull blinked in surprise, smiled, and made an answering sign before heading toward the train.
I hoped Mary would forgive Trumbull for her guest’s actions. Turning to Spector, I asked: “What about you? They can’t have decided you’re complicit, or you would have said something.”
“No, they haven’t. I looked as surprised as they did. But they were extremely upset, I think George even more than Mary. And very grateful to Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt for telling them.”
“Which is of course one of the reasons it told them.” I remembered Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt’s original affront at Mary’s injury. “I think it’s acting on real principle, too.”
“Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt is an idealist,” said Nnnnnn-gt-vvv. “That’s never in doubt.” There was a pause while we pondered this.
Clara Green had been staying close to the Outer One, but looking curiously at my companions. She broke the silence: “I know there’s a lot going on—but is that you, Dory Dawson? I didn’t expect to see you again any time soon.”
Deedee started. Caleb gripped her shoulder. After a moment she sat up straighter, taut with tension. “It’s me. Good to see you, Miss Clara.” There was a trace of real pleasure in her forced smile. “Not many people I’d say that about, but it’s good to see you.”
“You know each other?” I asked stupidly.
“Millions of people in this city,” said Deedee, “and you had to drag the social hub of Seventh Avenue to our beach.”
Clara shrugged. “We go everywhere. We talk with everyone. Some of us just do it in a smaller neighborhood, that’s all.”
“So you do,” said Deedee. “Have you been traveling with these guys all this time?”
“Wouldn’t have been fair to my Nellie and Jack, now, would it? Just this past year I finally got free to go my own way. But we’ve been friends since long before you were born. You know your ma finally left that Clark fellow?”
Deedee leaned back into Caleb’s arms. “Did she? About time. Maybe one of these days I’ll let her know I found a good white boy.” She squeezed his hand. “Pale, at least.”
“This is all so charming!” said Shelean. “But could we maybe catch up later? You’re as scattered as an affection group house meeting.”
Audrey half-rose, interrupting whatever Deedee was about to say. “You didn’t tell me she was here.”
I sighed. “I was getting to it. She isn’t, technically—she’s still back in the underhill, spying and trying to convince Freddy to leave.”
“Spying which way? How do you know she isn’t reporting all this back to her minders? Or just chatting about us to Freddy with no regard for who he might tell?”
“Cousin, if there’s one thing you learn among the K’n-yan, it’s never to trust anyone who wants to make all your decisions for you.” A theatrical sigh. “But I’m a terrible spy. No one’s saying anything interesting in the conversation pit today. It’s all rushing back and forth, getting things done in the back rooms, and stopping by occasionally to tell us that everything is perfectly normal. Freddy’s flipping out, but he still trusts Kvv-v
zht-mmmm-vvt. He doesn’t want to think his new tribe could be as screwy as the people he left behind. I’ve barely seen your friend, either—maybe they’re keeping her where Freddy’s nerves can’t scare her off, or maybe they want something from her.”
“Huh.” Audrey sat, but watched Shelean’s pendant through narrowed eyes.
“The Mad—Shelean—is correct,” said Grandfather. “Let’s focus on the immediate crisis, and how we must respond. If there’s anything we can do, the opportunity may not keep. Nnnnnn-gt-vvv, how large are these factions?”
“And what do you think Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt has planned for my colleagues?” added Spector. “Difficult as they are, I don’t want to leave them in danger.”
The Outer One buzzed and shifted its limbs. “The question of humanity’s survival consumes all of us on Earth. Until today I would have said there were dozens of factions, all arguing and trying to come to an understanding. But now several have coalesced around this idea of direct interference with the great political powers. And great technological powers: it’s the combination of dangerous invention with political volatility that they hope to dispel.” To Spector: “I don’t know what exactly it wants with your colleagues—but clearly it’s trying to gain their trust. It might work on them slowly, molding them until they’re willing to take advice. But given how fast it moved to expel dissenters from the underhill, I think it has something more drastic in mind. I just don’t know what.”
“Not necessarily,” said Spector thoughtfully. “It could simply want to present a united front while opening diplomatic relations. But I don’t like it either way—I need to let my superiors know what’s happening. If you were in Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt’s shoes…” He trailed off, looking at Nnnnnn-gt-vvv’s crab-like claws, and shook his head. “—in Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt’s place. What would you do? As ‘something drastic,’ I mean?”
“If I didn’t honor your right to make your own mistakes? I would offer to help heal Miss Harris, and use treatments that compelled their loyalty. It’s easy to tweak a mind as you move it.”
“Or by moving it,” said S’vlk grimly. “Your ‘travel’ changes people. It makes them pliable and passive.”
Clara stood. She walked over to S’vlk and lifted her chin to meet the elder’s gaze. “I waited forty-four years to go to the stars, and now I’ve finally done it. I’ve been out of my body six months this year, and I dove through the hole in the center of the galaxy and listened to the music of the spheres and had the best conversations of my life. Want me to show you how passive I am?”
S’vlk stared down at her. Deedee chuckled. “She doesn’t sound any different from when I knew her, that’s for sure.”
“But Khur S’vlk is also right,” said Nnnnnn-gt-vvv. S’vlk’s head whipped around, and the Outer One lowered its own. “Clara, you were as prepared for travel as anyone could be. And like anyone I would invite to join me, you wanted to go. But it’s not hard to force someone into it, and you don’t have to be gentle. If you want to break someone that way, it’s easy.”
“You’re saying Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt would…” Clara shook her head. “I know you’re no better than humans, really. Of course some of you would hurt people like that.”
“It would happily break a few humans to save your whole species. Our consensus has always been that learning too much about the universe would destabilize your societies—you might grow into that truth someday, but for now you’re far too provincial. There’s plenty of room for variation within that consensus, though. If Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt puts our allies in positions of influence, no one off Earth will interfere. Barlow is a start. It could use his team to draw in others, create a web of people following its lead towards peace and cooperation.” Nnnnnn-gt-vvv’s claws made long furrows in the sand. “This plan works very well, if you assume no one among your remarkably paranoid, xenophobic species will notice the infiltration.”
I could all too easily imagine Mary Harris torn from her body, imprisoned in a canister. I recalled my own nightmare desperation in the touch-impoverished visions of the trapezohedron. “Spector’s colleagues can do enough harm when their paranoia is unfounded. If they see creatures from another world trying to take over, they’ll gather all the forces you could dream of—especially if the USSR is involved. Which you said Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt wanted.”
“Yes, its mates in Eastern Europe are trying to do the same thing there.”
I sat back, digging my hands into the cooling sand. They were sticky with peach juice, and grit crusted under my fingernails. The moon was an austere slice of light. Are they up there, too? Looking down, making plans for people they only half-understand? Behind all my fear for my world, my species, seethed fear for my sister, who only wanted her freedom.
Spector, who of all of us was most comfortable thinking at this level, frowned and stared at his hands. Charlie watched him anxiously. Deedee frowned at him as well, but focused on Nnnnnn-gt-vvv. “And what are you doing? You said you’re part of a faction that’s been kicked out of the mine—are you planning to take it back? How many of you are there? Do you have a plan for how we can help, or is this just you running?”
“We’re … considering.”
“What kind of an answer is that?” demanded Deedee.
“Take it easy on him,” said Clara. “What you’ve got to understand is that this is really confusing for the Outer Ones. Their whole society is built around cooperation. They’re taught how to fight other people, but not their mates. Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt is probably just as shaken, but his faction can distract themselves with the business of running the mine and working on their plans with the government folks. These guys—the hands-off-humanity group—they don’t have anything they can do short of challenging their mates directly, and they don’t know how to do that.”
“Are they willing?” asked Grandfather. There was a rumble in his voice, deeper and more dangerous than usual.
Tendrils swiveled in his direction, iron filings to a magnet. “Before we do anything else, we have to survive our exile.”
CHAPTER 21
Nnnnnn-gt-vvv—June 21, 1949, 4 a.m.:
I’m monitoring the stasis room, listening to the reassuring harmony of well-tuned systems, when the alarm goes off. The wards assure me at once that it’s a drill, and I settle into the practiced rhythm of emergency procedures. Fortunately this is one of the minor exercises: only embodied need evacuate, and the emergency protections raised by the skeleton crew are minimally onerous. That doesn’t prevent me from wishing myself off-duty. If I hadn’t taken tonight’s shift as a favor to a travel-mate, I’d be waiting out the tedium in the comfort of the outskirts.
Halfway through the required checks, I notice an oddity. By now, my own repair procedures should be synchronizing with those in the ward room. Instead, the monitors report discord. I force my cilia in the same direction and explore more closely. I find the guards deep in the ward controls, making changes too swift and consistent to be error. My wings spread reflexively in search of safer dimensions. They’re reprogramming the wards to keep the evacuees from returning. No one will get back in without explicit approval.
The records confirm my sick intuition: Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt arranged the drill.
I’ve long since outgrown the childish terror of being outside homespace, but I feel it now: the irresistible, irrational awareness of how my body violates local physics, and of the thousand artifices preserving my existence in the face of that violation. Core among those artifices is the haven of the mine itself, enough like home to restore coherence between trips. Without its protection, those outside will languish swiftly.
Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt meant me to be outside now, with the other dissenters. I’m no ward-writer; I can’t reverse the changes they’ve made. My mind recoils from the thought of what they’ll do when they notice me. I have minutes at best.
I set the monitors to automatic. A projector pendant hangs just outside the stasis room. With moments to choose, I key it to Shelean. When I examine my choice later,
I’ll realize that of all my travel-mates, she’s the one with the greatest experience of betrayal.
“Don’t say anything through your canister,” I tell her.
She doesn’t question, doesn’t squeal or argue. “I won’t. But I’ll watch.”
I snatch Clara from the street outside the mine, where she waits sweating, into the outskirts. She shrieks at the unexpected transition, then laughs and clings to me. For a moment she assumes this one of her childhood games, the fairies come to pull her out of the world for another adventure. But she sobers quickly as I explain the drill’s true nature. One at a time, I find and confer with the evacuees who share my opinions. We slip away still immersed in somber discussion.
We came to New York to resolve a vitally important debate, with civilizations hanging in the balance. Until now, I thought we’d find a way to do so peacefully. This schism is like nothing I’ve experienced before, and I can only hope Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt is as disoriented by its actions as I am.
* * *
It had been easy, Nnnnnn-gt-vvv told us, to hope the bloodless coup a local aberration. But when the evacuees sought refuge at the Vermont mine, they discovered that parallel revolts had taken place elsewhere. Messages to Yuggoth had received no response. A few people had set off toward the edge of the solar system to learn what was happening there, but they feared the worst. The rest had scattered, searching for safe places to call their brethren back into congregation.
The number of Outer Ones was small but influential: fewer than a hundred across the planet, with perhaps two dozen in the hands-off faction. And of course, there were many more humans, some loyal to one of the factions and some simply trying to understand their patrons’ rift. Most of the nonhumans were in canisters, and therefore under the control of the interventionists regardless of their actual political proclivities.
“So the first thing you need is a safe place to regroup?” I asked. I thought of the tunnels under Innsmouth’s temple, the ones we’d never made it to during the raid. “What constitutes safety?”
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