The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame

by Sylvia Engdahl

  “But not a lifemate.”

  “I’ve never been so fortunate. You see, Terry, the Service is composed of different races, relatively few of which find each other sexually attractive. When a pairing does occur, there are no offspring because cross-breeding between species is genetically impossible. Even couples of the same species don’t often stay in one place long enough to raise children, any more than you and Alison did. So families are the exception among us.”

  Terry thought with sadness of how hard it must have been for Liam through the years, watching him retire with Alison to their stateroom every night, perhaps with envy. But apparently he would have been just as lonely if he’d had some other assignment on Earth. His choice of career had been made long ago, in youth; had he ever had any regrets?

  “I’ve brought you to this particular colony for two reasons,” Liam went on. “First, it will give you a chance to meet people of various species, which is essential to comprehension of our culture. And second, because Service field agents are used to interacting with members of immature civilizations. They’ll shield their minds to some extent so you can get used to new concepts gradually before you go to worlds where you’ll be immersed in ours.”

  It was an awesome prospect. Would he be able to meet beings different from humankind without revealing any revulsion he might feel at their appearance? Terry wondered. Laesara had said he wouldn’t want to meet the rest of her crew, and the more he thought about it, the more obvious it became that the average human wouldn’t be ready for such contact.

  “You won’t find them as physically grotesque as you’re expecting,” Liam assured him. “Most fictional ideas about aliens are rather silly. There aren’t any reptiles, much less giant insects, among us, and none of us have tentacles. Evolution produces pretty much the same kind of people everywhere, because it’s the form best equipped to become highly intelligent and develop culture. There are variations in size, skin color, and amount of hair, and in placement of internal organs—plus differences in the shapes of faces, which will probably be the thing most noticeable to you. But they’re not going to look like something out of a monster vid.”

  Embarrassed, Terry realized that his biggest problem was going to be hiding such foolish concerns from Liam. Now that their minds were more closely linked, he could have no private thoughts about the Elders unless he shut him out entirely; and he didn’t want to do that. Even if it weren’t that he needed his guidance, he wouldn’t want to hurt Liam’s feelings. He would have to accept the fact that as a newcomer here, he might seem naive.

  They descended to low orbit, the planet seeming more and more beautiful the closer he came to it. It was a garden world, designed to be everything its inhabitants admired in nature. “They’re not all so ideal,” Liam said. “This one is special because everyone here belongs to a closely-bonded group and faces similar stresses when elsewhere. We need an inspiring base to return to.”

  Again Liam conversed by comm in his own language, which, Terry supposed, he’d need to learn before he could interact with people. “Not really,” Liam said, answering the unspoken thought, “though you’ll probably pick some of it up. You’ll rely mostly on telepathy, which you do anyway without being aware of it—for anyone with your degree of ability, spoken words are merely a means of focusing thought.” He switched to silent communication: My teammates know Anglo because they’ve studied Earth’s civilization through vids. So you’ll have time to adjust.

  “If we can’t breathe the atmosphere will we have to suit up to land?” Terry asked. “Or do you have breathing apparatus of some kind?”

  “We have apparatus to use outside our own domes. But not for landing—we’ll be met by a shuttle equipped for the port facilities.”

  This proved to be a small spherical ship with four seats quite a bit larger than normal—or rather, indicative of a different norm. Seatbelts weren’t necessary; there was gravity but no feeling of deceleration as they dropped into a port that opened in one of the domes. The shuttle had no pilot other than its AI, which had evidently been remotely commanded to rendezvous.

  Will Estel be safe alone in orbit? Terry wondered. He would probably be away for days, and he had never before left it unattended longer than an hour. For the first time since Liam’s revelation he felt a tinge of panic. He wanted desperately to see the Elders’ worlds—but was his presence here permanent? Might he never get back to Estel at all?

  Take one step at a time, Liam advised him. But he did not answer the unspoken question.

  The dome they had entered was a hub; they went from the shuttle directly into a tunnel leading to the residential dome they were headed for, evidently containing the same air since the automated car that took them there wasn’t sealed. As they disembarked Terry drew a deep breath. He was on the verge of the most thrilling experience of his life, beyond anything he had ever hoped for. It was hard to believe that such a thing was really happening.

  A small group of people stood waiting at the gate to the tunnel. They were indeed alien.

  “Welcome, Terry Steward,” said the first to come forward, a tall man—at least he supposed it was a man—with reddish skin. From facial features it was impossible to determine the person’s sex. And in that instant Terry fully understood the goal Laesara had stated to him long ago, the key factor in the crusade for development of psi powers to which he’d devoted his life. Alien faces revealed nothing to a human about feelings, and no doubt the same was true in reverse. The “normal” means of judging people did not apply. Their sincerity, their goodwill, could be perceived only by telepathy.

  This man, and the others around him, were offering a genuinely warm welcome. But if he were not a telepath he would not know that. To the average human they would seem strange and perhaps hostile, and nothing they might say in his language could be trusted. No wonder the Elders didn’t reveal themselves to civilizations in which psi wasn’t yet widespread.

  He had expected to be at a loss for words—but words weren’t needed. Terry found that nothing he wanted to say had to be expressed. It was simply understood, and he was aware that they got the gist of it, just as he himself understood that they had been awaiting his coming for years and were truly happy to meet him. It was a big occasion in their lives, a cause for celebration. Startled by their essential humanity, he scarcely noticed their physical variation at first.

  But as they walked through a wide high-ceilinged corridor toward a meeting with a larger assembly, he began to take it in. They were of various heights, ranging from that of a human child to a couple of feet taller than himself. Skin colors included everything from purplish red to pale gold like Laesara’s—in fact one member of the group was obviously of Laesara’s race, with sparse fuzzy white hair and a face with flat nose and receding chin. He realized that he had not heard many voices; hers had been synthesized and their natural ones would likely be unintelligible to him even in a language he understood. He was indeed grasping what was said aloud via telepathy.

  He suspected that some people’s features were even less like his own than those he could see, since some were covered by full-face breathing apparatus—it was natural that the most dissimilar species would be the most likely to need different air. They all wore clothes of the same style, loose unisex tunics and trousers, so that he couldn’t tell much about bodily shape apart from the fact that everyone had two arms and two legs. Some of the arms were hair-covered, almost furred. Again, there was no indication of sex since size wasn’t relevant. He wondered if it even mattered among members of different species not physically attracted to each other. Culturally, they might make no distinction. Perhaps that was one of the things about this society that he was expected to find confusing.

  They entered a large circular room directly beneath the center of the dome, through which light poured. A crowd gathered silently around him, and Terry became aware that he was the oddity, the strange person at whom everyone wanted a look. Yet somehow they managed to look without making him
feel inferior. They viewed him not as a specimen in a zoo, but as a celebrity, an honored guest.

  He was offered food, and to his surprise it was delicious despite being unidentifiable. It’s a form of fruit, Liam told him. A rare fruit that comes from offworld, since this is a special occasion. There were also small, sweet cakes. Everyone was obviously enjoying the repast, to which wine was soon added. The room was, however, much quieter than a human gathering would have been anywhere but on Maclairn. As telepaths, they didn’t equate noise with conviviality.

  At last, when the gathering dispersed and Liam took him down another corridor to what proved to be his sleeping quarters, Terry collapsed on the bed, shaking with the strain of the momentous day. He’d reached turning points often in his life, but this one topped them all.

  “I’m bushed,” Liam said. “I’ve looked forward to today for nearly eighty-eight Earth-years, and now that it’s come, there’s bound to be a letdown. But it’s been a joyous day for me, and for you too, I hope.”

  There were no words strong enough for what Terry felt; the emotion brought him near tears. It didn’t need to be expressed aloud; just as telepathy was sufficient with the newly-met aliens, so was it now with Liam. Released from the tension of a century of unacknowledged longing, he slept.

  ~ 60 ~

  Terry woke to diffused light seeping through the entire outer wall beside the bed. Sitting up, he reached for the control buttons that Liam had showed him before retiring to an adjacent room. As he pressed first one and then another, the light brightened until he had a clear view of the sunlit landscape beyond the wall. The bedrooms were at the outer edge of the translucent dome, giving their occupants the feeling of being outdoors. There was a meadow patched with low-growing yellow flowers, bordered by trees whose glistening leaves shimmered in the wind. Beyond them, he caught a glimpse of another dome’s reflective surface.

  The bed itself was huge, at least a meter longer than necessary, and Terry realized that the guest rooms had been designed to accommodate the tallest of the species for whom this dome’s air was breathable. It was soft compared to those aboard human starships, perhaps to allow for bodies of differing shapes. He rose and went into the small private lavatory, which had fixtures of unfamiliar design though obvious in their purpose. Water was evidently not scarce on this planet; after a lifetime of meager shipboard showers, he reveled in a continuous drenching spray from jets adjustable to the height of his shoulders. When ready to dress he found that suitable clothes had been provided, loose grey pants and a green tunic of some soft but sturdy material; his pilot’s apparel had disappeared.

  Terry sat down on the bed again, unsure as what to do next. He was torn by conflicting feelings: eagerness for the experiences ahead, mixed with uneasiness he couldn’t put a name to. He had not slept soundly. Weird dreams had intruded—dreams he didn’t remember, yet knew had been disturbing. Not nightmares, not even frightening, but just . . . different. Things for which there were no words.

  Liam, when he appeared, didn’t have to be told this. “Bear with it, Terry,” he advised. “Remember what I said about the collective unconscious—you’re not going to adjust to an alien one overnight. Telepathically you’re absorbing much more than what you see and hear, and it’s bound to be upsetting because you lack the context in which the people here perceive it.”

  “It—feels like precognition, almost,” Terry reflected. “Is any of that real?”

  “Perhaps. Your psi faculties are being stimulated by use, so you’re probably more sensitive to precognition as well as telepathy. You may be aware of future impressions as well those you’re picking up now.”

  Then did it mean problems ahead? he wondered. He wanted to embrace this world wholly. He’d seen nothing about it that he didn’t like. But he felt out of place here, somehow, and that was a feeling he’d never had on any of the countless planets he had visited in the past.

  They ate breakfast served buffet-style in a dining room one level higher than their bedrooms, also with a gorgeous view. Liam led the way to a table where a woman was waiting for them. “This is Rowyn,” he said, and though she didn’t speak aloud, Terry had no difficulty exchanging pleasantries with her. She welcomed him warmly and was instantly likeable.

  It was clear that to Liam she was more than likeable.

  There was no doubt about Rowyn’s gender, for she was of a species quite close to human. She was about the same height as Liam, and might almost have been of his race if it weren’t that her skin had a purplish tinge, as if it were bruised, and she had extra fingers. Her facial features were odd, but not startlingly alien. Her body, what he could see of it, matched the human ideal; it was enough to rouse any man’s desire.

  But it didn’t stir Terry. Though she was attractive by all reasonable standards, she left him cold. That was unusual. His advanced age had not diminished his virility; while he would never want anyone but Alison, on League worlds his inner reaction to the sight of desirable women had been normal. Why then did Rowyn seem totally lacking in sex appeal, when in Liam’s eyes she evidently had plenty of it?

  After they left the dining room and could talk privately, he asked, “Why didn’t she seem female to me? Am I just not able to connect with other species as people?” It was a disappointment; he had assumed he was broadminded enough not to let small physical differences affect him.

  “Of course you can connect. But not in a sexual way—unless another species is virtually identical, the genetic triggers simply aren’t there.”

  “But you . . . I sensed that something triggered a response in you. Even more than when we met human women, to whom I’ve never felt you react.”

  Liam said slowly, “Terry, it’s time you knew. Rowyn and I are of the same species. When I first came to this world, my body was the male equivalent of hers.”

  Terry stared at him. “That’s impossible. I know you Elders can change people’s identifying physical characteristics, as you did mine when I was sent to Ciencia. My voice was changed and my skin tone was altered—but not so drastically as from Rowyn’s skin to yours! The alterations to my face were minor, nothing like transformation into a different species.”

  “Much larger changes can be, and are, made,” Liam told him. “It’s rare for it not to be necessary. There are one or two other races that can pass as Earthborn, but only a very few members of them happen to be in the Service. When the contact team was chosen, long ago when I was barely past adolescence, most of us were surgically altered. Facial reconstruction was only part of it. For instance, my heart was moved from the right side of my body to the left. Some of my fingers were amputated, just as your missing ones were restored. I was given permanent contact lenses to change my eye color.”

  It struck Terry as appalling. For a person to be transformed into something unlike the race he’d been born into . . . to be cut off from his own people in such a way, so that he was neither one thing nor another. . . . “Why?” he asked in dismay. “Why did you allow it, I mean?”

  “Bringing Earth into the Federation is important,” Liam said. “When we join the Service, we make a binding choice to devote our lives to observing and protecting younger species—we swear a formal oath to put their welfare above all other considerations. But mostly, this means observing passively without any chance of taking action. Not every generation has the opportunity to help the people of a new world gain their rightful place among us. We who were students here when the team was selected vied for that opportunity. Physical alteration was a small price to pay.”

  “Laesara wasn’t altered,” Terry protested. “She said the others on her starship weren’t.”

  “No, because they’ll have no direct contact with your people. Laesara was a mission coordinator and ultimately fleet commander; she had no reason to go to the surface. Only a small number of us have been prepared for that.”

  “It’s so . . . permanent. You can never go back to what you were born to be.”

  “We couldn’t go back to o
ur birthworlds anyway, except for brief visits; the Service is a lifelong commitment. Besides, it didn’t change anything essential about us. The Maclairnans founded their culture on the principle that minds are more significant than bodies, didn’t they? You have spent your own life promoting the importance of the mind. To be consistent, you must admit that a person’s physical form doesn’t matter.”

  Chagrined, Terry agreed. Yet as the day wore on, he found to his dismay that it did matter. He had lived with Liam aboard Estel for more than eighty years believing him to be human; finding out that he was an Elder had been a shock, but the difference had seemed a mere technicality. Now he couldn’t help thinking of him as an impostor, someone who underneath was not what he appeared to be. He told himself that it didn’t affect their friendship. But he shrank from telepathic contact, knowing that Liam would sense his horror and be hurt.

  They toured the interior of the dome with its conference rooms, libraries, and immense central knowledgebase—a copy of which, Liam said, existed on every Federation world. Its size and complexity was almost incomprehensible, despite Terry’s extensive experience with information technology and skill in programming. Hundreds of worlds, each with an independently-developed civilization. . . . “And here at Service headquarters,” Liam added, “we also have data about all the young worlds not ready for Federation membership. We spend years in study before being allowed to visit them—and people not in the Service aren’t permitted to visit young inhabited worlds at all. It’s a strictly-enforced policy because any premature contact with such a world would interfere with its evolution.”

  Laesara had told him that, and he’d found it hard to understand, though he’d come to terms with it over the years. Now he perceived that Service people—all the people he met on this world—saw it as a sacred obligation. They were literally committed to die rather than reveal the Elders’ existence to a developing civilization and, Liam told him, that sometimes happened. Sometimes it was the only way to hide their alien origin.