To Fear The Light

by Ben Bova

  “I know how much you love the woods,” he continued, still regarding their surroundings. “I know how you used to spend hour upon hour hiking the trails around Woodsgate without permission, when you were a child … and of how you and Javas were almost murdered in the backwoods. I know all of this because she holds it in her memory.” He stopped on the trail for a moment, and swept his arm to indicate the scenery around them. “I even know what it is like to wake up from cryosleep in a beautifully tranquil setting like this one. I know all this because she knows it.” A pair of the IPCs bristled behind them, suddenly concerned that something was amiss, and he resumed walking. “But I have no memory of it that is my own.”

  Eric nodded in comprehension. “And you feel that by accessing my father’s personal files, you can become whole. Is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  The Emperor said nothing for several minutes as they trudged along the path. At one point Ettalira floated in front of him, trying to read his features, and offered a tentative silver tendril toward him but he waved it away.

  “As far as I am concerned, you will never be my father, even if you were to absorb the sum total of everything that he has recorded throughout his life. Even if you were able to absorb everything that made up him.” Eric looked at this man who so resembled his father, that he felt somehow cruel to turn down his request. “For myself, my answer is no.”

  “For yourself?”

  He raised his head, looking in the direction of the front of the line of hikers, where Adela walked, engaged in heavy discussion with Anmoore. “My mother has a say in this matter. If she wishes it, I will agree.”

  Eric then turned to Ettalira, saying, simply, “You were right: A mistake was made.” With that, he picked up his pace, putting himself in front of the two aliens.

  34

  FLYOVER

  “According to Mr. Hanson, we have a problem along our usual travel route.” Anmoore stood next to the hopper they were to take back to South Camp, his arm pointing down the length of a rift valley extending into the distance. Lewis and Adela stood with him; the others were already on board. “All the flight paths are low and unobservable from the surrounding terrain, but we’ve favored this as our main corridor for coming in and out of the Jour Nouveau area because of the treacherous footing and inhospitable conditions at the bottom—the area’s quite remote and sees almost no native foot traffic. However, we placed numerous camouflaged heat scanners along the length of the valley our first trip here to detect small parties of natives that can’t be picked up from the orbitals, like the airships and other heat sources can, and check them prior to any flight we make.”

  He turned away, waving to the security man to get his attention. “Hanson! Come over here, please.”

  “Captain?”

  “Are they still coming along the length of the rift?” Anmoore asked. It seemed to Eric, as he watched the two of them talking, that Anmoore didn’t much care for the security agent. “Any luck that they might cross over the edge and into the woods so we can use the primary corridor?”

  “It looks pretty doubtful,” he replied in a deep, resonant voice. “They seem to be picking out a trail along the very bottom of the rift, traveling lengthwise.”

  “A hardy bunch.” Anmoore sighed in frustration. “All right, then. Get an orbital scan, both visual and heat sources on all the secondary flight corridors. Coordinate with the Blanca on the best way to go. That’s all.”

  The man nodded curtly and moved away, talking again into his collar pickup.

  It took nearly half an hour to get the departure route set, but they were presently back on the hopper. The camo-shielding momentarily having been lifted, the shuttlecraft rose gracefully away from its companion, and headed directly away from the area on one of the secondary corridors. The seating arrangement in the passenger cabin was the same as it had been on the trip in.

  They proceeded smoothly, although the length of the trip back to the southern continent grew increasingly tedious due to the hopper’s lower-than-usual forward speed. Owing to the unusual nature of both the secondary travel route and the VIP cargo, Anmoore felt it best to proceed at a more leisurely pace. Eric noted on the viewscreen at his elbow that the day was almost over, and that darkness would be falling at about the same time they were scheduled to reach the northern sea.

  The interior lighting had been dimmed, giving the passengers an opportunity to rest from the strenuous activity they had seen in the previous hours. The two IPC agents occupying the front seats were in stand-down, and slept softly before their duty shift came up again. Likewise, both Lewis and Adela napped in their seats. The liaison seated across from his mother was awake, and watched the panorama passing below the hopper on his own viewscreen. He had said almost nothing since they had left; had hardly spoken at all, in fact, since their conversation on the wooded trail earlier that afternoon.

  Eric turned in his seat, the movement catching the attention of the two IPCs in the last row. Where the liaison stared idly at the landscape in the viewscreen merely to pass the time or as a diversion from his troubled thoughts, the two men vigilantly observed and scrutinized everything, always looking for some approaching threat. They stared at him a moment, then, apparently satisfied he did not require them, turned back and resumed monitoring their respective viewscreens.

  Behind them, floating silently, motionlessly, was the sphere Ettalira. She had not moved for hours, and as he studied her gleaming surface it seemed to him that the luster of her silvery skin was slightly duller. Was she sleeping? Perhaps the spheres had a “standby” mode, enabling them to conserve energy and thereby prolong the length of time before needing to transfer to a new receptacle. The thought intrigued him enough that he used the integrator to access the South Camp database through the hopper’s comm system. He allowed the integrator to conduct its own search pattern through the vast amounts of information already amassed on the Gatanni, but could find no mention of it. The liaison “Javas” would certainly know, but Eric promised himself he would ask Adela or Ettalira later rather than engage in a conversation with him. Better, he decided, to leave him alone with his private musings for now.

  Eric sat forward again, returning his attention to the viewscreen. As the landscape scrolled steadily, almost hypnotically by, he felt his eyes growing heavy and he yawned deeply. The activity of the preceding days beginning to catch up with him, he settled back into the cushioning softness of his seat and stretched tired legs out in front of him, then allowed himself the rarest of luxuries an Emperor could enjoy: Closing his eyes, he let his mind simply drift.

  “Father?” The single word startled him, and he blinked, realizing that he had fallen asleep for a short time. Lewis knelt at the side of his seat, and rested a hand on his forearm. Eric looked quickly around as his mind cleared, noting that Adela and the liaison were still asleep; likewise, Ettalira remained floating inertly at the rear of the cabin. The two IPCs at the front were awake and intently watching their screens, as were the two in back. All four ignored him, and seemed more than ordinarily rapt in their attention to what they saw. A glance to his own viewscreen showed that he could not have slept long, as sunset still appeared to be a few hours away, but it also showed that their speed had decreased considerably, and that the hopper was descending to the floor of the valley corridor they had been using as a travel route.

  “Why are we stopping?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “Captain Anmoore has picked up two heat signs just to the south of here, moving north along the same valley we’re following now.” Adela stirred in her seat and yawned, their whispered conversation rousing her.

  Forward view, Eric commanded through the integrator, switching the viewscreen instantly. Magnify, and orient on the heat sources detected by the piloting scanner. The image obediently zoomed in.

  Airships. There were two of them, riding the gentle air currents straight ahead of the hopper, one vessel slightly higher and behind the other. The general shap
e and overall dimensions of the two airships were the same as those in the infamous recording and those observed at Jour Nouveau, although the design and coloration of these two differed greatly from what he had seen before. These two, evidently, came from a different city-state than others previously documented.

  “What’s going on?” Adela rubbed at her face and eyes, but she was fully awake now, and leaned over the back of the Emperor’s seat to stare at his viewscreen. “Airships …? I thought we chose this route for the express purpose of avoiding native traffic.”

  Lewis shook his head to dismiss her concern. “They must have been on the surface somewhere outside this valley where the portable scanning units couldn’t detect ground traffic, and only recently took to the air and started following the valley northward. They weren’t observable until then, either visibly from orbit or by heat scans. We received simultaneous warnings from the Blanca and Scartaris when they fired up the steam generators and launched. We were already so close to them that the warning from orbit came only a few minutes before we picked them up ourselves.”

  “Can we avoid them?” Eric watched the screen intently, concerned more for keeping their existence secret from the natives than he was for their safety.

  “They’re not aware of us,” Lewis clarified for both of them. “We’re going to land the hopper on the valley floor, put up the camo-shielding and just let them sail on by overhead. Once they’re over the horizon behind us, we’ll be back on our way.”

  “Very good, Lewis,” Eric said, relaxing. He indicated the liaison with a quick bob of his head. “Better wake him up, too. And Mother, could you explain to Ettalira what’s happening?”

  She nodded and headed to the rear of the cabin. The ever-nervous IPCs turned jerkily as she passed their seats.

  Once Adela had returned to her seat, Lewis informed Anmoore that they were secured, allowing him to power the hopper down in a smooth gliding arc to touch softly in the center of a clearing on the valley floor. Eric checked the viewscreen the moment the soft jarring told him they were down, and saw that the image of the two airships, more angled now that the hopper was on the ground, blurred momentarily when the camo-shielding came up, but the clarity returned almost immediately.

  The flight-deck door opened. “We’re down and stable, everyone,” Anmoore announced as he entered. The IPC leader appeared behind him. “The shielding we’re using here is of the same type as at the observation deck. They can’t see in, but we can see out.” He started for the exit door at the rear of the cabin, adding, “Would anyone care to join me outside to watch them pass over? Take it from me, the sight is impressive.”

  “Just a moment, sir!” Hanson called out loudly, stopping him. “I think it might be better if we remained inside for safety’s sake.”

  Anmoore turned, the distasteful expression on his face making clear what Eric had thought earlier—this man seemed to loathe the IPC agents as much as Adela.

  “Not only is the shielding capable of hiding us,” Anmoore replied, “but I’ve set it the highest level, making it nonpermeable. As long as we stay under it, we’ll be as safe on the outside of the hopper as we will be sitting in here.” He glared at Hanson. “We won’t even get wet if it starts raining,” he added pointedly.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but as the safety of all aboard is my priority, I must insist.” Hanson glanced uneasily around at the passengers, as if counting noses, and it seemed to Eric that he truly was concerned for their well-being.

  “Pardon me,” he interjected. “Mr … . Hanson, is it? I thank you for your concern, and for the way in which you carry out your orders. But I must admit that I would like to observe the native airships myself. I think it would be all right—if Captain Anmoore and Commander Wood agree, of course—to ease back on my mandate for this occasion.” He turned to Lewis and addressed him formally. “Commander, are you satisfied with the integrity of the camo-shielding?”

  “Yes, Sire.”

  “And you, Captain?”

  “Of course.”

  “Very well, then,” he said.

  Hanson nodded reticently. “Sire, if you will permit me to stay aboard the shuttle, I’ll monitor the passing airships on the scanners, so that we can have an exact assessment of their movements, as well as receive updates from above.”

  “An excellent idea, Mr. Hanson.”

  The man actually bowed, then pointed to one of the agents in the back. The man straightened, and pulled on the headset that was hung around his neck. “Tideki, please accompany them to the outside, and let me know of the slightest indication of trouble from the native flyover.” He turned his attention to the other agents. “The rest of you stay inside with me.” Hanson nodded respectfully to the Emperor again and returned to the flight deck, where the copilot was still going about his postlanding sequences.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness?” the liaison asked as they began moving down the aisle. “I think I’d prefer to remain here as well.”

  The Emperor nodded his assent; then he and Adela, Anmoore and Lewis—along with Ettalira and their IPC guardian—moved through the rear door onto the lower deck, where Anmoore keyed in the sequence to drop the exit hatch.

  This portion of the valley floor was, like most everything Eric had seen on Tsing IV, just as beautiful and peaceful as he could have wanted. There were more shades of green here—trees, shrubbery, lush grasses that flowed beneath the hopper’s landing pads like a carpet—than he had ever enjoyed in his beloved backwoods in the Kentucky hills. The air was warm here, warmer than at Jour Nouveau and certainly warmer than the interior of the hopper, and he unbuttoned his jacket for comfort. While Anmoore and Lewis, followed by the shimmering sphere, walked to the front of the hopper to watch for the oncoming airships, Eric lingered in the opening with Adela. The agent identified by Hanson as Tideki had stopped with him, but he ordered the man outside. He reluctantly obeyed, and moved off to follow the others.

  “It’s going to work, Mother,” he said almost cheerfully once they were alone in the hatchway. He took her hand and held it tightly in his. “After all I’ve seen in only the few days since I’ve arrived, I’m more convinced than ever that the cooperation going on here among three very distinct races will say more to show the Hundred Worlds that Jephthah’s claims are unfounded than anything else we might have done to fight him.”

  “I hope you’re right, Eric.” She smiled up at him and tugged at his hand, leading him down the hatchway steps to the valley floor just below them. “It all depends on the next few years, and whether you can keep him bottled up long enough for everyone to begin to accept what we’ve found here—not only the discoveries, but the real meaning of friendship between our races. I don’t think we truly knew that before we came here.” She hesitated, an excited chattering from the front of the hopper catching her attention. Anmoore was pointing at a tiny speck on the horizon moving toward them. As she tilted her head, she thought she could hear just the slightest thrumming sound from the south. As they watched, it almost looked like agent Tideki, now standing with Anmoore and Lewis—the shimmering Ettalira between them—was becoming excited as well. “Look,” she said, pointing to him. “Even the IPC agent’s become enraptured by what’s happening here. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if there was actually a smile on his face.”

  Eric laughed softly, then changed the subject unexpectedly. “What about … ‘Javas’?”

  A pause. “What about him?”

  “Do you want him to have my father’s personal files?”

  She hung her head briefly, letting her breath out slowly in a resigned sigh. “Javas is gone,” she said simply, her voice barely a whisper, and stared out across the valley floor at the thick forestation all around them. In the nearest of the trees a bird sang, its song directed at no one and everyone at the same time. She closed her eyes, listening to the crystal-clear sound that brought back an important memory. “He told me so himself, in his own way, in a dream I once had. I just didn’t understand what the dream me
ant until now.” She opened her eyes again, and looked up at her son. “No. I don’t want him to have the files.”

  “All right,” he responded simply.

  “I spoke to Ettalira about him. All that has happened here since we met is a part of him now, and he’ll remember everything we’ve said and done … .” Her voice trailed off for a moment as she seemed to meditate on something in particular. “However, she said she can remove the imprinting of my memories of Javas. Without them, he’ll be free to develop just as the other three have; he can be his own person.”

  “Adela!”

  They looked up to find Anmoore excitedly motioning for them to come over, his face beaming.

  “What do you think of him?” she asked, indicating the survey-ship captain.

  “I like him.” Eric’s answer was immediate, sure.

  She didn’t respond for a moment. Then: “Let’s join them.” They walked together—still holding hands—to the front of the hopper.

  The six of them, five human and one Gatanni, stared into the sky and watched as the two airships sailed nearer. As they looked on, more details became apparent the closer the ships came. As they had thought from the initial glimpse offered by the viewscreen when they were still several kilometers away, the markings and design of these two airships were vastly different from those of the Jour Nouveau craft.

  “Wait a minute!” Anmoore reached for his belt, out of habit, expecting his handlink to be there. When he realized it wasn’t, he spun about and leaned back, trying to see into the flight-deck canopy, but the angle was too steep from where they stood for him to catch the attention of anyone who might be up there. “We need to get this recorded.” He trotted for the hatchway, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”

  Tideki touched his earpiece with one hand and pressed the sides of his collar with the thumb and forefinger of the other. “Anmoore is coming up,” he said, no longer paying attention to the oncoming airships.