“Barbarisms? I thought Earth had outgrown them.”
“If you mean full-scale wars, prejudice on the basis of skin color, widespread starvation, yes. But there is still crime and poverty and squalor on Earth. Heavy industry is still on the surface instead of in orbit where it wouldn’t mar the planet’s beauty. Worst of all, people are still under the thumb of a controlling government. And you certainly can’t say the revival of the Ku Klux Klan wasn’t barbaric.”
“You’re saying such things don’t exist on every world?”
“They don’t on Maclairn, do they?
“It’s a small new colony. We don’t expect Earth can ever get rid of its problems, even after the majority of citizens gain mind-powers.”
“Not soon. But the Federation worlds have had many more centuries of progress than Earth has had. There are always a few evildoers on any world—no culture is a utopia. Where the collective unconscious rules out immature behavior, though, the small minority of deviants don’t affect the overall condition of a civilization.”
“I suppose Federation citizens won’t think much of ours,” Terry said unhappily.
“It will be off-limits except to official delegates for some time. The hardest part of a Service agent’s training is learning to accept the things he or she will see in young civilizations—especially those too young for admission, where there’s a lot of bloodshed and cruelty, but also those at the level of Earth. It takes a while for us to reconcile ourselves to the fact that evolution can’t be hurried.”
Most Federation species had indeed moved heavy industry from planetary surfaces into orbit, Terry discovered, and in many cases a large share of the population had moved into artificial orbiting colonies—little habitats, complete with diverse ecologies, within outer shells that provided life support facilities. He knew from his reading of history that this had been proposed as far back as the twentieth century on Earth, but people had never followed through. As a result Earth had become the dreary, crowded, polluted world he knew, whereas the worlds where advanced Federation species had evolved were park-like. Was it too late, he wondered to change course and restore its former beauty?
“It’s not,” Liam assured him, “but it won’t happen in your lifetime. Most species focus on moving outward first, as is necessary as a hedge against disaster. Only later can they afford to move enough of their industry into orbit to clean up their home worlds.”
During the next few weeks they traveled to many of those worlds, seeing wonders beyond anything Terry had envisioned—buildings strangely shaped, yet graceful; pastoral lands where countless homes blended unobtrusively with the natural growth; once a whole city rising out of the sea. And animals, an incredible array of separately evolved animals, different on each world, not caged but running free in areas set apart for them and observed from bordering stations or through satellite vid closeups. He and Liam visited historic sites, attended concerts of incredibly complex music, experienced the impact of technologies unimaginable by the science known to the League. They met Elders with psi powers far more advanced than their own, Elders who depended almost entirely on silent communication and who, to Terry’s well-concealed unease, used psychokinesis in their daily lives as well as in creation of their habitations. Through it all, he felt the strangeness of the psychic ambience, of contact with people whose thoughts were inexpressible in his own language; and at night, his dreams blended reality with metaphor so that he could not tell how much of the whole he had really seen.
At last one morning he woke shaky, feeling that though he wanted desperately to grasp more of this new universe, he hadn’t the energy to take it in. With reluctance he said, “I think maybe we should just relax for a few days.”
Liam nodded. “You’re on the edge of burnout,” he agreed. “We’ll go back to Ydoril for some rest. One more world before we do, though—the most important one for you to visit.”
Wearily Terry protested, “Can’t it wait?”
“No, I’m afraid this one can’t. It’s the Federation’s headquarters, and you are expected there.”
~ 63 ~
They emerged near a yellow sun somewhat smaller than Earth’s; the planet was closer to it. It was a brilliant green jewel of a world with few oceans. “This was where the Federation was formed, millennia ago,” Liam said. “It’s a less rigid organization than the League—as you know, each member world runs its own affairs. But delegates do meet here to exchange ideas, and there’s a ceremonial head of state whose role is to represent their collective ideals.”
“A premier?”
“No, he has no executive power and like the sovereigns of modern monarchies on Earth, he’s not involved in politics. His position is purely symbolic. When you meet him, though, you’ll find that as a person he’s worthy of honor.”
“I’m going to meet him?” Terry exclaimed, surprised. “Out of all the billions of citizens of countless worlds, why would I rate his notice?”
“Because you are the first of your species to visit us, and through you, he will formally welcome Earth into the Federation.”
“Oh, my God. Is this why Laesara said I’m important?”
“Not only this. But it’s a significant occasion. He will probe you, which won’t feel the same as when she did because he knows nothing of your background or culture. He’ll merely judge your humanity.”
“What if he doesn’t like what he finds?” Terry inquired. “I’m hardly the pinnacle of the human race, I’m not even as psi-gifted as a lot of the mentors—”
“He will approve of you. Laesara wouldn’t have chosen you if there were any question about it.”
Nevertheless Terry felt nervous when the time arrived. He felt uncomfortably conspicuous in the close-fitting white tunic and tights with which he had been provided, styled so unlike the Fleet dress uniform he’d worn on formal occasions long ago. It reminded him of something out of a costume drama, yet was similar enough to the Service uniform Liam wore to convince him that it was appropriate. People from different worlds favored various colors, and on Ydoril bright ones had been predominant. Had white been chosen for him because it was the Service’s ceremonial color, he wondered, or because Liam knew that on Maclairn it was the color worn for the Ritual?
The building to which Liam took him appeared to be made of crystal, not just its windows, like those on Ciencia, but the entire structure. In the center of its vast rotunda was a moving staircase wide enough for six average-sized people to ascend abreast, evidently designed for its dramatic effect since the more common controlled-gravity lifts would have carried them between levels more efficiently. Light from an immense skylight poured through a shaft that extended all the way to the ground floor.
Like most of the others present, he and Liam wore their indispensable breathing apparatus. “But the meeting rooms have sections sealed off by invisible force fields to provide different air for different species,” Liam told him. “That’s the reason why delegates don’t greet each other by handshakes or any other form of physical contact. You won’t notice the barrier unless you touch it.”
He led the way into an anteroom on the top level where their masks could be removed. “Have you been here before?” Terry asked.
“No, I haven’t been invited till now. I’ve seen holos, though, so I know what to expect.”
“Must I talk to the head man? What’s his title—how should I address him?”
“He doesn’t know your language, of course. You can speak aloud if you wish, as I will for your benefit; but the communication between you will be entirely telepathic. You can refer to him simply as “Eldest.” He’s that to all of us, for he’s one of the oldest living members of the Federation’s oldest race.”
As on Maclairn, age was admired over youth here, Terry realized; he’d been told that Earth’s glorification of youth was the reverse not only of most other cultures’ custom but of common sense. Through long life one developed wisdom, he supposed, though he personally didn’t feel very wis
e.
They proceeded into what appeared to be a comfortable office with soft foam-covered furniture styled to accommodate people of various sizes and holos of diverse worlds’ landscapes artistically placed within its translucent walls. The air on their side of the invisible force field must have been adjusted for them, since the room was too small to have more than one section for guests. On the other side there was only an immense desk, cleared of everything but the recessed controls for its vid screen. No obstruction hid their sight of the person seated behind it.
He was of a race Terry hadn’t seen before, smaller than most, with skin so dark that it was almost literally black and huge orange eyes. They were penetrating eyes, yet kind, and the magnetic personality of an inspired leader shone through them. Terry knew instantly that anything good said of this man would be an understatement.
“Venerable Eldest, I present to you Terry Steward, our first representative from the planet known to its people as Earth,” said Liam aloud. “I ask you in the name of the Service to acknowledge that world and all its colonies, through him, as a member of the Federation.”
Though the Eldest’s alien features were unreadable, telepathic perception told Terry that he was smiling. Sit down, Terry, he said silently. I cannot invite you to approach closer because of the force field, but that barrier will in no way diminish the touch of our minds.
There was a curved couch facing the Eldest’s chair; Terry and Liam sat down on it. “Venerable Eldest, I am honored to be in your presence,” he said. The spoken words were superfluous, but he needed the focus they provided.
Have I your permission to probe you?
“Yes, Eldest. I welcome it.” He leaned back, gathering himself, hoping that the probe would not cause him to lose his poise.
When the Eldest’s mind touched his he felt nothing, for all sense of space and time slipped away. With Laesara his memories had been drawn into consciousness and passed to her, but now the past lay beyond recall. He had no words or even thoughts; he was simply one with the Eldest, not judging or being judged, yet aware that their perspective was in accord. Whether time passed or their union was instantaneous, he neither knew nor cared. But when he was wholly himself again, it was with the knowledge that there were no aliens—that all peoples in the universe were alike underneath, and that the mind-powers he’d spent his life advocating, whether conscious or unconscious, were the essence of what made them human.
You are a worthy representative of your people, the Eldest told him, and it will be my joy to welcome them into the fellowship of all human worlds. Go with my blessing, Terry Steward. I have no doubt that you will meet the challenge to come with dignity and courage.
Terry bowed his head briefly, uncertain as to how to respond. Courage? He didn’t know of any coming challenge that would demand it. To be sure, this man was more psi-gifted than any Earthborn person; perhaps his precognition had revealed a future of which he himself as yet had no idea.
He realized that no further speech was needed; polite phrases would have been anticlimactic after the deep communication they had experienced. Silently, he and Liam left the room.
They went immediately back to the ship, and then to Ydoril. More weeks passed, with Terry resuming his former routine. But holos were less absorbing than they had been before he had seen real alien worlds. He recovered from burnout only to find his earlier restlessness stronger than ever. He had everything—good friends, a pleasant place to live, access to a knowledgebase more vast than he had ever imagined in his hacking days—but something was missing. It was a while before it struck him what it was.
He was homesick. He missed the sight of Earthborn humans with bodies like his own, a cultural heritage like his own. He was with people he liked and admired, but they were not his people.
At first he was ashamed of these feelings, which seemed like prejudice though he could honestly say that he had none. As time wore on he was torn by them. He had been given an opportunity no member of humankind had been offered before; how could he admit, even to himself, that he was less than totally content with it? How could he ever tell Liam that he longed for his former life? And supposing that he could bring himself to do that, how could he abandon the exciting new universe he had yet to fully explore? He did not want to go back . . . yet a part of him did want to. He wanted to have it both ways, yet he could hardly expect to be transported back and forth between League territory and the hidden realm of the Federation. He would have to choose.
It would be better, perhaps, once Earth was aware of the Elders. Liam still hadn’t told him how soon that would be. And it might not be better . . . he’d been told initially that he could never go back to being what he’d been before. If he kept silent about his experiences he would burst with the immensity of them, and if he went public, he would be looked upon as a curiosity—pursued, perhaps, in the way he would have been if exposed as the Captain of Estel. What role could the Captain of Estel play in the new era, when his work was done and he was no more than an aged spacer traveling from world to world to relive the past?
And yet more and more, he felt drawn back to the civilization into which he had been born.
This, Terry realized, must be what the Eldest had meant by his reference to a challenge requiring courage. Perhaps it hadn’t been based on precognition, but simply on understanding of the human heart. In his wisdom he must have known that anyone brought from an isolated young world would have to make this choice, a choice in which there would be pain either way.
Finally, on a bright afternoon with the light of the alien sun pouring through the translucent walls of the sunroom he’d come to love, he spoke. “Liam,” he said slowly, “I don’t know just how to put this. I’m honored by what the Service has done for me and I’ll always be grateful for the welcome I’ve received. But . . . Ydoril’s not my world. I admire what I’ve seen of the Federation and I’m happy about humankind being accepted into it, yet I don’t belong here—not forever. I don’t know what I want, only that I can’t be just an observer. I need to be with my own people during our transition.”
“Yes,” Liam agreed. “I’ve been wondering if you’d realize that without my having to bring it up.”
“You knew?” Terry burst out in astonishment. “You’re not hurt that I want to leave?”
“It was never intended for you to spend the rest of your life with us, Terry. This is only a stopover on your way home.”
“Home? I don’t have one—not unless you count Estel. I don’t really know where I’ll go now.”
“To Maclairn, of course,” Liam said. “Isn’t that where you’ve always wanted to be?”
Part Eight: Homecoming
64 - 65 - 66 - 67 - 68 - 69 - 70 - 71 - 72 - 73
~ 64 ~
“Maclairn? Stunned, Terry felt his heart swell within him. Laesara had told him he could never go there again . . . he had lived with that sorrow for a whole century. And yet once the Elders revealed themselves to humankind, the reason for the prohibition would be gone. He had not considered that; he was so used to suppressing his longing for Maclairn that he hadn’t stopped to think that he might soon be free to return.
“When?” he asked, his excitement rising. “When will it be okay for me to go?”
“Tomorrow, if you like,” Liam said, smiling.
“You mean you’ve already made contact with the League?” Somewhat indignant, Terry protested, “You promised I’d be the first to know—”
“You are the first. Did you think we would land on Earth and announce ourselves, like aliens from some ancient UFO tale? It will be a long, slow process that won’t involve the League for many years. At first we’ll have contact only with the Maclairnans, who are far better qualified to deal with it than Earth’s citizens.”
It made sense. The Elders hadn’t put Maclairn under their protection just for its importance in spreading acceptance of human mind-powers, Terry perceived suddenly. They had always intended to make their first contact there. It would b
ecome part of the secret Maclairn was already keeping, and not until that secret was disclosed would the aliens’ existence be generally known.
“You’re inviting me go with your ambassadors, then. But tomorrow? I suppose I sensed something, it can’t be coincidence that I spoke out on the very day—”
“The day is of your choosing, Terry. You are the ambassador,” Liam announced. “The shock to a newly-admitted world’s people is lessened if the initial disclosure comes from one of their own kind. It is for this that we’ve been preparing you all these years—it’s what Laesara chose you for.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Your whole life has been preparation,” Liam continued, “though that wasn’t known until your second meeting with Laesara, when she learned how fate had positioned you to save Maclairn at the moment of its greatest peril. It was decided then that if you fulfilled your potential, and if the mentors achieved their goal while you were alive, you would be given this responsibility.”
Terry drew breath. “All the years you’ve flown with me, you were judging my fitness for it?”
Liam nodded. “The final step was bringing you here to make sure you could adapt and that your impressions of us would be favorable. The mentors will draw them from you telepathically, you see. It’s too vast a revelation to be made in words alone.”
“That’s ironic,” Terry declared, “considering that I’ve spent the past hundred years in isolation from them to prevent their sensing what I knew of you.”
“Yes. And the mission isn’t an easy one,” Liam said soberly. “We believe it’s your destiny, but you are of course free to refuse.”
“God, Liam, you surely don't think I will." It was an awesome prospect to be sent as ambassador, Terry realized. He had never imagined such a role as this. He was not sure he wanted it. And yet to go back to Maclairn not merely as a repatriate, but as the herald of a future beyond anything its pioneers had ever dreamed of. . . .
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 84