Grunts, whistles, gutturals, clicks, and growls mingled with more musical tones, producing a fascinating cacophony. Underlying it all was the ever-present sibilant hiss of the Mizari language. Cara caught a sudden whiff of overripe melon as two Vardi conversed in their olfactory-based language.
The young journalist considered where to sit. She'd made several friends in the weeks since her arrival, and one of them, a Simiu, was waving at her now. She began to make her way toward Frrkk'eet, then hesitated as she noticed another familiar face two rows over.
She hadn't seen Mark Kenner except to wave at in passing since the day he'd introduced her to his friends as he'd promised. But then he'd rushed away, leaving her with them, explaining that he had to cram for a makeup test. Waving back at the Simiu, Cara indicated her new direction.
"It's a good thing I'm not doing my documentary on you," she said with a grin, dropping into the seat next to him. "You went into hiding on me."
Mark laughed. "I told you from the very beginning I'd be a poor subject. No, really, I have been in hiding. Getting my coursework caught up," he explained. "How is the documentary coming?"
"Really well. Everywhere I look there's something new and interesting to film."
He raised his eyebrows. "Film?"
Cara grinned. "A figure of speech. Of course nobody has used actual film for centuries ... but the term lingers on. Anyway, I think the only time I turn the camera off is when I'm in bed. And, of course, the chance to interview the Elpind ... I can't wait!"
She watched Mark as she spoke, noticing something different about him. He looked more relaxed, more at peace with himself.
"So, besides the coursework, how are you?" she asked, wondering if she dared say what she really meant. Why not? she decided. The journalist in her still wanted to discover the story she sensed in Mark Kenner. "I mean,"
she added,
39
"you look ... uh, happier, I guess, than when I saw you the other day."
"You mean, happier than when you saw me waiting for the shrink?" He grinned to take any implied sting out of his words.
His smile was marvelous, warm and high-powered, Cara noted. The impact of it distracted her for a moment. When she recovered, he was saying, "...
and so, I made a decision. You know, you always feel better when you've made up your mind what to do about a problem."
"What problem? What did you decide?"
"Whoa! My turn to ask a question. Don't you need to be down front to film this?"
"Dr. Rob let me set up a second camera on stage. They always record special events like this anyway, so I'll just piece together the best footage from the different cameras. That leaves me free to go for crowd shots with my autocam."
Cara paused, wondering whether she should let Mark get away with
changing the subject. But just as she was about to try again, a hush, ripe with anticipation, abruptly fell over the Arena. She looked down at the stage and saw the school's Administrator, the Chhhh-kk-tu named Kkintha ch'aait, step to the small podium to begin the assembly.
Cara had begun to pick up a smattering of Mizari, but this was too important to miss a word. Hastily she switched on her voder.
"... and I think you are all aware," the Administrator was saying, "of the disclosures made ten months ago by the CLS concerning Elseemar. The people of Elseemar, the Elspind, following several years of limited interaction with CLS sociological teams, recently expressed an interest in visiting and learning about other worlds. The CLS agreed to sponsor the visits, and as a result, the WirElspind, Elseemar's governing body, chose ten of their members for this very special mission.
"These representatives are the first to ever leave their planet. Their reports will have a major impact on the people of Elseemar, as well as future relations between Elseemar and the Cooperative League of Systems."
I know all this, Cara thought impatiently, forcing herself not to wriggle in her seat.
"StarBridge has been given the honor of receiving a
40
visit from one of these Elpind emissaries. Students and faculty of the Academy at StarBridge"--Kkintha ch'aait paused for emphasis--"I would like you to welcome Eerin."
Cara jumped to her feet, clapping as hard as she could. So did Mark. Since every student in the Arena was just as eager to express delight and since every species had its own way of doing so, the uproar was astonishing.
The being who stepped out into view didn't exactly "step." Instead it bounded out, skipped across the stage, then skidded to a halt beside the Administrator. Even from halfway back in the huge Arena, Cara could feel the boundless energy radiating from the small creature.
The alien was humanoid, with a head, two arms, two legs, and upright carriage. Cara couldn't distinguish facial features from where she sat, but she noted that the head appeared uncomfortably large and startlingly round in contrast to the thin, angular frame. The effect was softened somewhat by the cream-colored down covering both head and body.
Cara compared the Elpind with the Chhhh-ick-tu. Adult Chhhh-kk-tu, on the average, stood about as high as her collar. The Elpind was about the same height but there the similarity stopped. Kkintha ch'aait was rounded and densely furred and, while smal , looked solid and stable. The Elpind, thin and much more lightly furred, appeared fragile in contrast.
Cara wondered at its age. Its sex she knew ... or rather, she knew about its lack of sexual identity. Recent newscasts about the scheduled visits had revealed to the general populace of the CLS for the first time that Elspind were either male, female, or neuter, and that all of the ten emissaries were neuters. They would be referred to with the Elspindlor pronoun for neuters,
"hin," the Mizari journalist had reported.
The noise was finally dying down. The Administrator spoke again. Still in Mizari, noted Cara. Hin isn't wearing a voder, therefore Eerin must know Mizari.
"Our students represent the Fourteen Known Worlds of our galaxy, Eerin.
More than that, they are the finest young people their planets have to offer.
They come here to form a very special community and to learn how to advance the peace and prosperity of all systems. The welcome you heard means they are eager to make you one of them."
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It happened all over again: the yelling, the clapping, the barking and whistling and hissing and yipping and stamping.
Kkintha ch'aait waited patiently, seeming to enjoy herself. The Elpind made constant, tiny motions. Cara wondered if it ... hin, she reminded herself, was nervous.
Finally the students settled back down.
"Eerin expressed the desire, in a government communique prior to arrival, to experience something uniquely StarBridge," Kkintha ch'aait said. "We have decided a pair project will allow Eerin to experience a unique feature of StarBridge, and will offer the best opportunity for hin to interact with another CLS-member species. In addition, it works well with hin's plans to visit another system before returning to Elseemar. The death of two birds with one rock, as you human students might say."
A rumble of appreciative laughter rose from the members of the audience to whom she referred.
Cara had learned during the past weeks about pair projects. Two students of different species were paired and sent away from StarBridge to accomplish a special project set by the Academy. All interrelators were required to complete a pair project, and many of the telepaths and translators elected to, also. It was considered the best way to learn teamwork across cultural lines.
Pair partners were seldom chosen for each other from the cultures each student was majoring in; the idea was to have them learn from each other without prior preparation.
Sort of a field test, she found herself thinking, then she focused again on what the Administrator was saying: "... a special Tapping right now. The faculty felt Eerin would enjoy watching the Tapping ceremony itself. I will tell you that the choice announced through our light system will be a surprise to both Eerin and the chosen st
udent, but we have put a great deal of thought into selecting the person we felt would be the best pair partner for Eerin."
Cara could feel the excitement level rise another notch. "Did I understand correctly?" she whispered to Mark. "Someone's already been chosen, but that person doesn't know it yet ... and is going to find out right now?"
"Right. You'll like the Tapping ceremony," Mark replied.
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"What if it's you?" she kidded. "I'll get the best camera angle possible, totally by chance."
Mark smiled tolerantly. "Nope, once again, you'll have to go elsewhere for your story. I did my pair project over a year ago."
"Who did you get?"
"A Heeyoon, Starchaser. We got to be great friends. She--" He interrupted himself. "They're ready to start! Is your camera on?"
"Naturally." Cara gazed about her expectantly. The term 'Tapping," she knew, came from the ancient custom of choosing members for exclusive clubs or special honors by sending someone to actually "tap" a chosen person on the shoulder. While the old terminology lingered, Cara felt sure she would witness a very different method of selection.
Mark nudged her. "Put your palm over this," he said, demonstrating by pressing his hand against a small sensor plate embedded in the arm of his chair.
Gradually the lights dimmed until the Arena was totally dark. Suddenly she saw a yellow glow several rows away. Cara jumped as a green light
illuminated the arms and back of her seat. A soft orange glow outlined the chair in front of her and to the right. Throughout the Arena different colored lights winked on, one by one, at random, until the audience shimmered like a huge rainbow.
Mark leaned over to whisper again. "The computer activates a white light when it recognizes the presence of a Tapped student." His chair was still dark, but it wasn't the only one. There were still many dark spots scattered between the bright islands of lighted seats.
The lights that were winking on did so more slowly now, adding to the suspense. A dark spot two rows away glimmered into blue.
Even as Cara craned her neck to see who would be next, something flashed at the corner of her eye. She turned her head quickly.
Bright white light bathed a wide-eyed, openmouthed Mark.
"Congratulations!" cried Cara. "Mark, it is you!" She had to practically shout to be heard over the exuberant noise that had started up again in the Arena.
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He was shaking his head no, and his shocked distress was evident. Cara grinned at him. "Hey, don't take it so hard. So, you'll have done two pair projects," she said. "It'll look great on your resume." He was obviously supposed to walk down to the stage, but he didn't move. "Go on, Mark. Get down there."
"You don't understand!" he hissed frantically. "I can't be Tapped. This is a mistake!"
Computers can't make a mistake; they only make hundreds at a time. The worn, old joke flashed across Cara's mind, but she dismissed it. This wasn't the time for humor; Mark's face told her that.
"Why, Mark? Why can't you be Tapped?"
Mark still looked stunned. "Because I'm leaving StarBridge. Dropping out.
They know that; they're supposed to be starting my transfer."
Cara's mouth dropped open in her turn. "Oh, no!"
Kkintha ch'aait was speaking. She'd grown impatient waiting for Mark to come forward on his own; she was calling his name. The excited sounds in the Arena were dying down into puzzlement. The brilliant white light of Mark's chair, glaring among all the softly colored ones, was like a giant finger pointing at him.
"Damn!" said Mark softly. "I can't let the Elpind be embarrassed in front of this crowd. They'll just have to straighten this mess out later." The instant he stood up, the Arena burst into fresh sounds of congratulations.
Cara watched him force a creditable smile, climb over feet and paws to get out of the row, then start down the aisle toward the stage.
Dropping out! she thought incredulously. So that's the decision he wouldn't discuss. But why? He's bringing his grades back up, he said, so that's not it.
What then?
As a journalist, Cara was fascinated, but as a friend, she resolved to wipe Mark's verbal reactions to his Tapping out of her documentary. He'd better never make another crack about journalists prying into his personal business, she thought ruefully, watching him as he mounted the ramp up onto the stage. Slowly the lights in the Arena winked out, one by one, until only the stage was lighted once more.
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* * *
From the stage, the darkened audience appeared to Mark like a vast,
tranquil ocean of muted sound and movement. The faint shufflings and hushed conversations died away as he approached the podium.
His first impression was of his own awkward height. As a human male of average height, he towered over both the Chhhh-kk-tu and the Elpind.
"Congratulations, Mark," said Kkintha ch'aait.
He glanced at her sharply. The Administrator had okayed his transfer two weeks ago, so she, too, knew this was a mistake. I guess we both have our roles to play, Mark thought. For now, at least. He nodded to her and turned his attention to his supposed-to-be pair partner.
Not as fragile as hin looks, he thought, his eyes tracing the ropy tendons and long muscles clearly outlined beneath the fine, cream-colored down. The Elpind's size and slenderness concealed a tough, wiry strength.
Mark consciously used the pronoun he'd heard in newscasts about
Elseemar. StarBridge classes had been buzzing for weeks with the news that the visitor would be a neuter. So far, Dr. Blanket, the intelligent Avernian fungus creature, and the one Rigellian student were the only neuters in residence at the Academy--and the Avernian might more properly be called asexual than neuter. Species with three distinct sexes were rare.
Eerin's stick-thin legs ended in narrow, well-arched feet. Here hin's down gave way to light orange bare skin that appeared leathery. They weren't really big feet, Mark decided; they just appeared too long by human standards--especially in contrast to the thin legs. The alien had toes, prominent kneecaps, and long, sinewy hands that resembled the feet.
"I am honored to meet Eerin of the Elspind," said Mark in his flawless Mizari, making the Mizari greeting bow, tented hands above his head and a deep inclination of his body. Only then did he allow himself to look directly into the alien's face.
Eerin had no ears, only recessed ear slits, and the same creamy layer of down that covered hin's body grew up the graceful neck and over the head.
There was a roundness to the head, a round shape to the face, that the human eye found disconcerting.
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The fine down thinned away to nothing on the Elpind's face, and the skin revealed was softer-looking and less orange than that of the feet and hands.
A broad, snubbed nose made a blob in the middle of the face, but the mouth had an almost-human shape with its full, apricot-colored lips. "Mark Kenner,"
said the Elpind clearly.
Mark nodded again, fascinated by the alien's eyes. They were enormous and as round as the Elpind's face, but that ¦
wasn't what made them spectacular. It wasn't even their color, which was the shade of old, beaten gold, with huge, dark pupils. What made them striking was their depth and clearness, the light in them, and the intensity of expression. Life and warmth and an unmistakable happiness poured out of those eyes.
Mark couldn't hold back his own response. His smile broadened to a silly grin. "Welcome to StarBridge!" he cried.
The rest of the program was a blur. Kkintha ch'aait presented Eerin with a StarBridge pin, and then the Elpind spoke to the audience in careful but excellent Mizari. Mark thought of the confidence with which Eerin had said his name and decided the alien had known and practiced the strange sounds well before the ceremony.
Not a mistake then. I've been set up. And I bet I can guess by whom, and why.
At the end of the program, when he glanced offstage, Mark knew he was right. He politely excused himsel
f to the Elpind and went over to speak to the slender, dark-haired man who awaited him.
"You're hoping this will change my mind," he said bluntl y
"Of
course," Rob Gable admitted. He smiled warmly. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try?"
Mark sighed. "I thought maybe the kind who'd believe I know my own mind."
"Mark, when you get back from this pair project, the transfer applications will have gone out, and you'll probably have half a dozen scholarships lined up to choose from. Then, if you still want to, you can take one of them and withdraw from StarBridge. But it's a big galaxy out there, and you've only set foot on one alien world so far." He was referring to
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Mark's third-year pair project when he'd gone to Arrooouhl, the Heeyoon's mother world.
"Now tell me," Rob said, "you wouldn't like to visit just one more planet before you go back to Earth, maybe for good."
Mark hesitated. He wasn't meant to be an interrelator; he'd accepted that, but his curiosity about other worlds and their people endured.
"Yes, you're right. I'd like that," he agreed. "But isn't the situation with the Elspind very important to the CLS? This visit is going to have a lot of impact on Elseemar, don't forget. And with the unrest on that planet right now ..." He shook his head. "StarBridge needs to assign its best person to be Eerin's companion."
"It's not as though you'll be going to Elseemar during your pair project," Rob pointed out. "Mark, we had to have someone experienced, someone with flawless Mizari, whom we knew could handle a pair project. I know you don't feel you're the best person for this assignment, but Kkintha ch'aait and I and the rest of the faculty do. Trust us." His dark eyes held Mark's steadily. "Put your decision on hold for a while, and concentrate on doing a good job with Eerin. Okay?"
"I am ... honored," Mark said, "that you think this highly of me." He had one more protest. "But won't this be a lot of money for the 'Bridge to waste on someone who's leaving?"
"If you come back with a different outlook and decide you'll be an interrelator after all, it won't be a waste."
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