Haruko gnawed thoughtfully on his knuckles, as he always did when he was really upset and thinking hard. In the end, it had been O'Reilly who had given him the push he'd needed--and he shouldn't have needed it--to climb into the shuttle. She had talked, long and eloquently and insistently, and her arguments had been impossible to refute.
"To begin with," she had said, with some asperity, "what they propose is traditional and honorable diplomatic practice, and what are we if not diplomats? Why the hell else are we even here? Anyway, it's not as if you hadn't done this sort of thing before." Well, she had him there; and since her duties as communications officer also included protocol, Haruko had not felt qualified to gainsay her.
But her other reasons had been rather more intangible. What it all seemed to come down to was the contention that the Kelts would be irretrievably insulted if their offer was refused. Again according to O'Reilly, who was after all herself of Irish descent, the Kelts' sense of face, their personal valuation of honor and dishonor, was as great and as lunatic (though she didn't use that word) as any Japanasian's, and Haruko of all people should be able to understand that!
And he did, he did understand it, that wasn't the problem. No, what was troubling him was much more basic than that, and much less noble: Haruko was terrified. He would go aboard the Keltic ship because he had to and he knew it, but all the reason and logic O'Reilly could marshal up were utterly powerless against the almost superstitious panic he was feeling. As soon as he had seen that gold ship coming at him, he had been swamped by a sense of cosmic doom that had nothing to do with the obvious technological superiority of the strangers, or even merely their stranger status of itself. He had met aliens before, on other voyages, plenty of times; sometimes they had been more advanced than the Terrans and sometimes they had not. But never once on those trips had he felt so much a pawn of the unknown. This time it was different; and as the golden ship loomed up before him, its glowing bulk shutting out the stars and filling his screens, a vast black bay suddenly yawned in her side where no opening had been a moment before, and the shuttle was swallowed up into it.
Haruko realized with a blink of surprise that his control of his own craft had been usurped; some unknown hand was landing the shuttle automatically. He sat back to compose himself in these last few seconds, and then jumped uncontrollably as his ship-to-ship communicator came to life. A pleasant male voice, welcoming him to the Firedrake--the Firedrake! that was perfect!--in excellent Englic, though accented a little strangely, and requesting his compliance with some minimal decontamination procedures; would Haruko be so kind as to oblige patiently?
The voice evidently took his startled silence for assent. There was a flash of warm rose-colored light, a low hum, then another flash of light, white this time. Then the voice again, now politely asking him to step out of the shuttle.
Jade Emperor of Heaven, raced Haruko's last panic-stricken prayer, just get me through this one ... He took a deep breath to steady his hara, according to the teachings he followed, then pressed the door control.
He emerged into a cool, breathable atmosphere almost indistinguishable from that of the Sword, and an artificial gravity only fractionally less than Earth's. Surprised, and subtly reassured, Haruko followed the loudspeaker's instructions and stepped into a lighted alcove in the wall of the landing bay. Again the pulsing rosy light, the flood of white light; then a klaxon brayed and doors seemed to whoosh open all over the hangar and people seemed to pour through all those doors.
His first reaction was alarm. Haruko blinked, a little nonplussed, but saw that it was no army but only about ten or fifteen people, most of them techs to service his shuttle. But they were all Kelts ... He knew he was staring, but they were regarding him just as frankly. It came to him with something of a shock--and with chagrin that it should shock him, and that he had not thought of it sooner--that he, Theo Haruko, was probably the first man of his race these people had ever seen, the first Terran of any stripe for more than three millennia. The thought rocked him.
But they were fascinating too. The first thing that struck him was all the hair they seemed to have: hip-length, shoulder-length, mustaches, beards--Three women and four men, who were most definitely not techs, had drawn themselves up in front of him and were now waiting politely for him to speak. Still he stared. They were all clad in the same dark-brown uniform--the uniform of the Fianna, as he would later learn--and all of them were quite amazingly tall. There were no weapons in sight.
Haruko got a grip on himself. "Permission to come aboard," he said, and saluted smartly.
At that the formality thawed. The man who seemed to be in charge of the detachment returned his salute, with a smile.
"Permission granted. You are very welcome to Keltia, Captain Haruko. I am Lieutenant O Fiura, and we are here to escort you to the bridge."
He fell cordially into step beside Haruko, though he towered over the Terran by more than a foot, and they left the landing bay and headed for what was unmistakably a turbolift. Not many moments later, the lift deposited them on what could only be the command bridge of the giant ship. Haruko had time for only the briefest glance round before his attention was claimed by the two men who came forward to meet him.
O Fiura saluted. "My lord Admiral, my lord mac Rossa--may I present Captain Theo Haruko of the FSS Sword." He withdrew, and the escort followed suit. Haruko stood alone on the bridge with the two officers, all his diplomatic instincts on red alert.
The gray-haired man with the piercing dark eyes spoke first.
"The greeting of the gods and man to you, Captain. I am Elharn Aoibhell, Master of Sail, High Admiral of the Keltic Starfleet, and I have been commanded by Her Majesty Aeron the High Queen to welcome you in her name."
Haruko had guessed the man to be a ranking spacer, and he returned the civilities.
"I thank you, Admiral. In the name of the Terran Federacy, I extend to Her Majesty and to all Keltia the salutations of Earth."
Smiles all round. "Another Navy man," said Elharn pleasantly. "Well met indeed. I am sure you will enjoy your visit to the Firedrake. We will talk later, you and I; not often do I have the chance to trade stories with a new listener. But may I present the Firedrake's first officer, Anluan mac Rossa. Captain Chynoweth is, of course, at the moment on board your own ship."
The tall brown-haired man called mac Rossa bowed, and Haruko did likewise, but with a certain distraction. In all the excitement he had managed to forget completely about the Sword and what must be going on back there. But there was nothing he could do.
Elharn gestured, and the three men moved to the railing of the command deck, looking down on the activity below.
"This meeting must be fairly brief, Captain, for a number of reasons," he said, with just the right note of regret. "But I have been instructed by the Queen to convey her formal invitation to you and your crew to accompany us back to our capital of Caerdroia, and to be our guests there, until our diplomatic dealings are concluded, or until it is your pleasure--or your duty--to depart." He glanced to his right, past mac Rossa's shoulder, a glance so swift as to be almost imperceptible.
But Haruko's hyperawareness caught it. He followed the flick of eyes, saw only a woman standing motionless some fifteen yards away in the bubble curve of the enormous viewport. Silhouetted against stars, she was tall, slender, dressed in the green Keltic uniform. Her face was in deep shadow, but Haruko's notice was caught by her hair: bone-straight, silk-smooth, the color of polished copper. A guard? he wondered. No, she was unarmed. But then, no one he had yet seen had borne any weapon...
"We would be pleased and honored to accept Her Majesty's invitation," he replied aloud, looking again at Elharn. "I will confirm this acceptance when I am back aboard my own ship, and we will then receive your sailing orders." He paused before he spoke again. "As your scouts no doubt have informed you, Admiral, we are a long-range probe sent out to contact civilization outside--usually far outside--our own immediate sphere of influence. Which is,
if I may say so, considerable. Although this is the farthest we have yet ventured in this direction, I still wonder that we have not met you before in our travels--or at least had word of your existence."
"We keep ourselves rather to ourselves, Captain," said mac Rossa with a smile. "As you will come to see. For our part, I think we were just as shocked to encounter you."
"Yes, it was quite a surprise all round," agreed Haruko. And the biggest surprise of all was your Queen's sending her flagship to meet us when a simple, unostentatious destroyer would have done just as well. Unless she really wanted to impress us--or intimidate us...
It seemed Elharn had read the thought. "The Ard-rian is very eager to meet you," he remarked. "And in light of that, and also in view of our mutual kinship from afar, it seemed good to her to send the Firedrake, and myself, as earnests of her friendship and honor."
Haruko was taken aback, less at the answer, which however flattering was still only partly true, than at the fact that Elharn had apparently responded to an unspoken question. Are they all telepaths, then? he wondered, very privately indeed, all his mental shields having slammed up at once. If so, he must order the others to guard their thoughts as well as their tongues; and do so himself, of course. All at once he felt extremely uncomfortable, and glancing over his shoulder, he saw the red-haired woman watching him, a faint smile on her face. She had emerged from the shadows by the viewport and now stood in the light, close enough for him to see her face: fine-featured, and very lovely. Catching his eye, she nodded politely, setting fist to shoulder in the Keltic greeting he had already received several times; and before he could stop himself, he was bowing back. Obscurely unsettled, he turned his attention again to Elharn and mac Rossa.
To his utter astonishment, both Kelts had the same expression of rigid control on their faces, and for a moment he stared at them in confusion. What could possibly cause those two officers to look so appalled? Again he glanced around, but, except for the woman, who had withdrawn to her original position near the port, he saw nothing to justify any panic.
After a moment, Elharn spoke, and his tone was carefully neutral. "In the time remaining, Captain Haruko, perhaps you would care to hear something of our history?"
"I'd be delighted, sir," said Haruko sincerely. A few answers might well be in order here...
"You have heard, I think, that we came originally from Earth."
"That could have been inferred," said the Terran, smiling. "Your scouts did tell us a little. But hardly what you'd call a detailed history."
"No, well, that does not surprise me. It takes somewhat longer than that. But I can certainly tell you enough now for your satisfaction, and later you shall hear all our story." They had crossed the command deck to stand by the deosil viewport. From here, Haruko could just discern the sliver of silver that was the Sword.
"Where to begin," said Elharn. "Well, we left Earth for galactic space in the year 453, by your old-style reckoning, and we came to Keltia two years later."
453! The scouts had not been lying, then; but it was still almost unbelievable...
"If you'll forgive me," said Haruko, shaking his head in wonder, "I find that astounding. I know I am not mistaken in thinking that a good many centuries pre-space."
"Fifteen centuries pre-space, in fact," said mac Rossa. "We knew you'd be surprised. But we were lucky--we, meaning the Kelts of old. We were able to rediscover faster-than-light travel and get out."
"Rediscover?" repeated Haruko.
"I warned you there was much to explain." Elharn's voice was amused. "Our ancestors on Earth were the Danaans, the original Kelts, who settled in Ireland and the other Keltic countries. But before they lived there, they had lived in Atlantis--that is right, the place you Terrans always thought such a myth. I promise you, it was very real indeed, and the Danaans were not the only race to live there. But before they lived in Atlantis, they came to Earth from a distant star."
"You are saying the original Kelts--these Danaans--were actually extraterrestrials?" Haruko had been listening intently, desperate to learn, but this he thought he must have misheard. Or hoped he had.
But both Kelts were nodding. "Yes, exactly," said mac Rossa. "There is no record now of their planetary origins, though we have plenty of other documents. Any road, they came to Earth, they settled in Atlantis--Atland, as we call it--and after a time they had to flee again when Atland was destroyed. But at the moment, Captain, I'm afraid we can't possibly go into the story of the Atlandic Wars. Suffice it to say that when Atlantis sank, the Danaans fled to Ireland and became the Kelts."
It was fantastic. "And then what happened?" asked Haruko.
"After a few thousand years, a few wars, a few invasions, Ireland had grown sufficiently unpleasant so that most of the Danaans felt the need to depart." Elharn's voice was even, unstressed. "Christianity had come in, all magic was condemned, there were persecutions... And that was when St. Brendan the Astrogator built ships according to the old patterns, organized the immrama, what we call the Great Migrations, and got us out. He led the first exodus himself, and brought us here. And here we still are."
They had been out here all this time, thought Haruko. All this time, while Earth reeled through the Dark Ages and the Renaissance and the Industrial Revolution and the Space Age and the Age of Exploration and the Colonization and the Wars of Empire and the Peace of Dzyan and the formation of the Federacy...
"You still haven't told me how it is we haven't met you before," he said presently.
"Ah, that." For the first time, Elharn seemed a little uncertain of his ground. "Well, partly, I would say, because such off-world trade as we have is outward from Earth, and our paths would not have crossed in that way for a while yet. But chiefly I think it is because we have not wished you to find us. Doubtless Her Majesty will tell you in a more satisfactory fashion, when you do meet her."
"Will we meet her?"
"Oh, aye--" Mac Rossa flushed unaccountably.
Elharn retained his poise. "As I said earlier, Queen Aeron is most eager to meet with you. Whatever monarchies you may happen to be familiar with, I think I can safely say that ours is quite different. But this is a very important event in our history, Captain! Our first contact with Earth in three thousand years, and you the first Terrans we meet... You have already become historical figures."
Haruko passed over the compliment, intent on his point. "If you have lived isolate all these years," he said, choosing his words with care, "I wonder that you elect now, at this particular moment, to initiate contact between our worlds."
Again Elharn gently refused the gambit. "As to that, I am no politician, but only an old sailor. You must ask that of the Queen, so that you may later convey the information back to your superiors."
"A subspace communication has already been sent out to my Admiralty," said Haruko bluntly.
"Yes, we know. It's of no matter," replied Elharn with equal candor. Changing the subject, "Would you care to see something of the Firedrake, while we discuss further plans?"
Haruko accepted gratefully, hiding the frustration and bafflement he felt, and followed Elharn into the turbolift. Haruko's original Fian escort now rejoined him, though mac Rossa remained on the bridge; the party also included two towering kilted warriors and the silent red-haired girl who had stood by the viewport.
They emerged on a lower deck and headed down a brightly illuminated companionway. On such a brief tour of inspection, only the barest of ideas could be obtained as to the true nature of a vessel the size and complexity of the Firedrake, and Haruko was well aware that no secrets would be given away. Nonetheless, he found the tour fascinating, and he wondered idly if his Keltic counterpart was finding the tiny Sword equally interesting. Very likely she was; strange vessels were always enthralling, no matter their size. But there was certainly a lot more to see aboard this beauty, and a lot to think about as well... and all of it totally foreign to the Terran's experience.
Haruko gave himself happily up to the w
onders of the Firedrake. The interior of the great ship was as unusual as her outer design. Though all appeared frighteningly functional, everything was also invested with a very definite artistic value that he had never thought possible aboard a ship of war. And everyone he met was so courteous, saluting their Admiral and bowing to their alien visitor without the slightest hint of surprise or ill-bred gaping curiosity. Most interesting! In fact, almost Japanasian. Haruko began to relax again.
*
As she paced down the corridors of the Firedrake, a few steps behind Elharn and the Terran captain, Aeron kept her face as blank as she could, though her mind was whirling with excitement. They passed many members of the crew, all of whom smilingly acknowledged their Admiral and the guest from Earth--and all of whom were under strictest orders to ignore completely the presence of their Queen. So far, everyone had obeyed, though it was probably very hard on them.
At that thought, Aeron did smile, and the tall Dragon who strode beside her looked down sidelong at her with shy curiosity. He had never before been at such close quarters with royalty of any degree, let alone the Ard-rian herself--though of course he had seen her often enough on the farviewers. She was much prettier in person, he decided; warmer, and merrier. And so young: Three years as High Queen had not been enough to perfect the royal mask that all monarchs must learn to don, and Aeron still wore much of her thought in her face.
The Copper Crown Page 4