Ammonite Stars (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #4-5 (2 page)

“What age is that?” asked Grace.

“Fourteen.”

“And then they can decide on their own future?” said Diva.

“Certainly.”

“Because as least one of them will have to go to live on Coriolis, to learn how to lead the Coriolan meritocracy.”

Six looked startled, and then gave a slight frown.

“Which one?” asked the man who contrived children.

Diva opened her eyes wide. “How do I know? The one who most deserves it, I suppose.”

The old functionary was not convinced. “You will excuse me for saying this,
Valhai
Diva, but you really should have mentioned this before now. This makes the situation far more complex.”

Diva shrugged with indifference. “I really don’t see why it should!”

“Because the child who is going to rule a planet has a colourful future already planned. That is most important. How can he or she develop through the colours when the end result is already known? That is not in accordance with our Xianthan principles of self-development.”

“Well, when the time comes we will ask them all to vote on it!”

“I can’t see your parents agreeing to that!” said Six, in a dry tone.

“Whatever!” Diva was getting cross. “I can’t be expected to think of everything, can I?”

“I bet you anything you like that when your mother hears she has 50 grandchildren growing up here on Xiantha she will be over here like a shot, scheming and planning which will take over from her. And I can’t see either her or your father leaving them alone here in the wilds for fourteen years!”

“I hadn’t thought of that!” Diva looked taken aback. “You might be right. Sacras!” She blew a long sigh. “All this parenting thing is going to be more difficult than I had thought.” She turned away from the babies, and addressed the Xianthan functionary. “Good job, Man who contrives children! They all look very nice and quite healthy. You are to be congratulated.”

The old man bent low in gratification, showing the yellowing stubs of his teeth as he did so. “Thank you,
Valhai
Diva. You empower me with colour.”

“Yes. Well, time to leave. Come on Six! Grace!”

Diva waited until the other two had joined her – Six obviously loath to leave the nursery so soon – and then lead the little group back to the magsled. She wasn’t about to admit it out loud, but she had experienced an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness when she had stared at the children. It was a disconcerting moment for her. She looked sideways at Six, who seemed quite unfased at meeting his fifty offspring, and was actually looking debonair. He caught her glance and returned it with a lifted eyebrow.

“What? Did I grow another chin?”

Diva laughed and shook her head. “Just thinking,” she said.

“Don’t; it’ll line your face. Ruin all that hard work you have put in bathing in Mesteta wine.”

“We must go to Coriolis soon. My parents have to know about this.”

“Well I can’t go now – they need me back on Kwaide.”

Diva narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Come on, Diva! You said it was just a marriage in name. Do I have to account to you?”

“N-no.”

“Good, because I’m not planning to. You can visit Coriolis if you want to; I have every intention of staying on Kwaide.” He gave her a swift sideways look. “They say it is quite good fun these days.”

“You have to come to Coriolis!” To her amazement, Grace saw that Diva had gone slightly pink.

“I might come over for a couple of days. You won’t need me more than that.”

“Fine! Do that!”

“Fine.” Six made his way to the magsled, in a charitable mood with the world. Diva walked jerkily after him, feeling unaccountably out of sorts.

GRACE WAS BACK at the Xianthan spaceport, but this time to meet someone. She covered her eyes, and squinted against the last rays of Almagest as the shuttle came in to land. Her concerned expression lightened as she caught sight of Ledin, and she took a half-step forwards.

His eyes creased into folds of pleasure as he walked up to her. He gave her a quick hug, and then deliberately held his hands up in the more traditional salute. Grace hesitated, but then touched his hands with her own, acutely aware of the spaces where her missing fingers should have been. Ledin seemed not to notice, holding the salute for a moment, and then curling his hands around hers.

“I have missed you,” he said simply.

She stared up into his face. “I missed you too.”

“I’m glad.” A slow smile illuminated his face. He put one arm over her shoulders, and they walked away towards the waiting magsled. When he saw it, Ledin raised one eyebrow. “Have we suddenly moved up the social scale?”

Grace laughed. “We are apparently heroes here. They say we can use the magsleds whenever we want.”

“Nice of them.”

“They are nice people.”

“Yes – I am glad we have chosen this planet.”

“Me too,” Grace agreed.

“So, let’s go and get my canth – I can’t wait to see the Emerald Lake!”

“I left my canth at the canth farm too. I wanted both of us to be there when we tell the man who spoke to canths our idea. He’s the one who let me use the magsled.” They clambered aboard the luxury vehicle, and Grace carefully put the gear into drive. “Did I tell you we are now godparents fifty times over?”

Ledin raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t Six and Diva agree on anybody else to stand as surrogate parents?”

Grace giggled. “I guess not.”

He gave a sigh, but Grace could tell that he was really quite pleased. He asked her if Six and Diva were still there, but they had both left Xiantha after seeing the children. Arcan had transported them both back to the Kwaide Orbital Station, where Six was due to run another pilot training program. Diva had agreed to take a shuttle down to the surface of Kwaide, to spend some time with Cimma, examining the trade agreements with Coriolis – not a pastime which appealed to her. She had not looked particularly happy to be leaving the Emerald Lake, and Grace could hardly blame her.

The magsled had wended its way out of the spaceport terminal, and was now outside. Ledin took in an appreciative breath of the hot air, and looked around at the dusty red ground. Then he looked towards the Xianthes, as she had when she’d arrived. He stared for a long moment, and then looked down at her again.

“I am glad that is over,” he said.

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “So am I. Xiantha now seems a much more peaceful place.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

BUT WHEN THEY reached the canth farm, the man who spoke to canths was on his knees on the dusty ground, crouching next to the black canth which was stretched out prone. As Grace approached, he sat down and pulled the animal’s heavy head into his lap, where he began to stroke the whorls of its coat at the top of the neck, soothing, talking, trying somehow to remove part of its pain.

Grace came to an unsteady stop beside them, and sank down into the sand too. The black canth was breathing unsteadily, its flanks shuddering with each breath, the marks of sweat along its beautiful hair surrounded by white rims of foam. Grace put a gentle hand on its shoulder, and felt tears come to her eyes at the sight of such distress in this magnificent creature.

“Wh-what has happened?” she asked the Xianthan man.

“I am sorry to have to report that it is dying, Girl who fell. Is Arcan all right?”

Grace looked at Ledin, and held the orthogel bracelet on her wrist out. Ledin pressed it a number of times with his fingers, and then waited. After about a minute, Grace was aware of an answer coming back through the bracelet.

“He is fine,” said Ledin.

“Then I don’t understand. This canth is locked to Arcan, and should only die when he does. It makes no sense …” The man broke off uncertainly.

“Is there something else?” asked Grace.

“… I just … The strange thing is …” The man who spoke to canths shook his head. “… I am not getting any feelings of fright or pain from this animal. It seems to be actually enjoying the process of dying. I have tended many canths as they cross over, and they have always seemed to need my comfort. But this poor thing …” he tenderly stroked the silky mane, “… is actually looking forward to dying. I can feel his eagerness, even through his suffering.”

Grace wrinkled her brow, and squatted down beside the man who spoke to canths, putting her own hand solicitously on the sweating neck of the black canth. Then she looked up as the figure of Ledin momentarily blocked out Almagest. She held up her other hand, and he sank down beside her, a concerned expression on his face at the sight of the canth. He said nothing, however, simply laying one hand gently on the withers of the dying animal, and the other over Grace’s shoulder.

“Maybe …” Grace began to speak, and then paused, unsure of her facts. Both the Xianthan and the Kwaidian looked at her expectantly. “… Maybe it is dying for one of the Arcan amorphs.” She gave the man who spoke to canths a very abridged version of what had happened up in the rarified atmosphere above Pictoria, when she had been forced to fire upon the visitor’s ship.

He considered. “You think that this canth was linked to that particular part of Arcan, rather than the whole?” There was a silence as he thought about it. “I suppose it is possible. But surely – if that were the case – this animal would have died immediately? You say all this happened over seven months ago?”

Grace shook her head. She had no idea, and she couldn’t go into more detailed explanations without mentioning the amorphs in much too much detail. It was not her secret to give away.

The man who spoke to canths sighed. “The strange thing is that this is not the only canth to die today. There is another – an unlinked canth – who is dying in the exact same way. That is unheard-of.”

Grace immediately thought of the visitor. But the visitor had no linked canth, surely?

“Shall I go to it?” she asked the Xianthan.

“Please. I try to help these creatures when they cross over, but to have two on the same day has never happened to me before.” He waved an arm in the direction of the furthest corral. “You will find it through that gate.”

Grace and Ledin made their way over, climbed the gate and walked into the dry pastures beyond. The canth was lying in the shade of a tree, its legs sticking out at ninety degrees to its body, and its neck stretched out along the sand. As the two friends walked up, several other canths snorted, and rolled their eyes.

They were allowed to pass, however, and Grace took the head of the dying animal in her lap, much as she had seen the Xianthan do, and began to stroke its neck slowly and gently. Ledin looked at the flecks of froth mixed in with the stains of sweat along its coat.

“It has exactly the same thing as the black canth,” he said.

“Do you think that Arcan could have been joined with more than one canth, without us knowing?”

He gave a shrug. “I suppose he could have been. I mean, he—” He was forced to break off because his own yellow dun had found them, and was nudging at him impatiently. Grace looked around, and was delighted to see her own canth. The palomino gold had moved gently in to stand behind her.

They both welcomed their own canths, and then dropped down again beside the dying animal. It was a blue roan, a dark grey colour tinged with a smoky shade of blue. Grace had never seen quite that colour before.

Ledin looked thoughtfully at his own canth. “You know, we could try to make contact through our own canths,” he said. “Perhaps they could tell us if this animal is linked to Arcan – or to anyone else.”

Grace’s eyes shone. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You can’t always think of everything. Let’s try it – see if we can get an idea of what is happening here.”

They shut their eyes and tried to concentrate on their canths. Grace found her focus slipping, found it hard to isolate that part of the brain that somehow was needed for this process. Her eyes flickered open once in exasperation, but they saw Ledin’s face, calm and abstracted. She felt ashamed, and thrust her thoughts back to the canths.

It took some time, but finally she could feel the tendrils of the canths touching on the edges of her mind. It was a faintly uncomfortable feeling at first, but then it became more familiar until there was a sort of inevitability about it. She was aware of a sensation of great happiness, and the surprise she felt at that feeling almost broke the tenuous connection. The man who spoke to canths had been right – both these animals were delighted to be dying. She could sense the resolution behind their pain; an intensity which overwhelmed their discomfort. They were somehow longing for the end of this life, and there was great excitement amongst the other canths, who could feel that the purpose of the canths was finally to be reached. As she delved deeper into the minds she was encountering she could sense Pictoria behind them; she could feel that the canths were aware of the ortholiquid on the distant planet, that they somehow belonged with it.

And she saw the visitor’s ship as it exploded into light above the far-away planet, relived those terrible moments when she had been forced to fire upon it, as her friend had begged her to push the button on the console in front of her and fire upon him.

Unknown to her, tears began to course down her cheeks, falling onto the mane of the blue roan, and mingling with the sweat which stained its coat.

And suddenly – quite without warning – she sensed Arcan. She could feel his essence as intensely as if he were standing right beside her. She gasped. It was definitely a trace of the orthogel entity – somehow diminished, but all the same unmistakable.

After further long moments, she opened her eyes and came back to the present. Ledin was staring at her, a broad smile on his lips. “You saw it too?”

She nodded. “Did you feel the canths’ happiness? They are delighted to be joining with the ortholiquid. I seemed to get the feeling that they have been waiting for this for thousands and thousands of years!”

He nodded. “I got that thought too. You were right. This blue roan is joined to one of the Arcan amorphs. They are going to be bimorphs!”

Grace put her head to one side. “They can’t be bimorphs,” she pointed out. “Think! The amorphs are one living thing surrounded by ortholiquid; the ones we know are either avifauna amorphs or Arcan amorphs. Then the visitor bimorph is two living things surrounded by ortholiquid: one of the Arcan amorphs together with the visitor. These new creatures would be formed from one of the canths, one of the Arcan amorphs, and presumably one or part of the lost animas of Xiantha, all protected by an ortholiquid shell. That makes them completely different.”

“So what are we going to call them … ‘trimorphs’?”

“Yes! Perfect! Trimorphs is a better name. After all, they do have three components, if you don’t count the ortholiquid. That sounds perfect.” They smiled at each other.

“But why do you think this is happening now – and not six months ago, when you fired on the visitor’s ship?”

“Beats me. I don’t see how time can have stopped, do you?”

“No. On the other hand, the canths clearly relate the death of this blue roan with the explosion of the visitor’s ship, so perhaps there has been some sort of temporal suspension? Maybe that is why we haven’t heard from the two Arcan amorphs that disappeared?”

“I suppose they could have been held in suspended animation inside the ortholiquid for a time. It does all seem a bit strange doesn’t it? We will have to go to Pictoria, and find them.”

“So how will they work, do you think? Once they have become trimorphs, I mean. Will they be able to transport instantaneously like the ortholiquid from Pictoria, communicate instantaneously over large distances like the canths, and have Arcan’s character?”

“The avifauna amorphs worked like that. The ortholiquid could transport to wherever the memories of the avifauna took it. I don’t know if the amorphs really had the character of each individual avifauna, if that was protected by the process, but the Arcan amorphs certainly retained identity.”