Galaxy Blues (29 page)

Everything around us suddenly blurred and jiggled, as if reality itself had turned to gelatin. Apparently this was the moment when the first tremor hit. Right on cue, I went sprawling face-first against the ground. Rain laughed out loud, and I gave her a sour look.

“Not very funny,” I muttered. She hadn't realized how close I'd come to smashing my helmet against a rock.

“No, it really isn't…sorry.” But she was amused all the same. As we watched, I struggled back to my feet and continued running toward
Lucy
, no longer performing broad jumps but instead making an all-out dash for the shuttle. By then the image was in constant vibration; the wind had picked up, and
Lucy
was obscured by blowing sand. “Oh, c'mon,” she said. “What's taking you so long?”

“You try…” My voice trailed off as, through the windborne silt, I saw myself climb aboard the elevator. As the cage began to make its ascent, I could see the shuttle rocking back and forth upon its landing gear. Even though I knew how this would turn out, my throat felt dry. Sure, it had been a close shave…but until then, I hadn't realized just how close.

The cage reached the top, then the crane's T-bar was withdrawn into the cargo hold. A couple of minutes passed, then the hatch shut. At this point, the image was shaking even more violently, but nonetheless there seemed to be a long, breathless pause to the entire scene. I waited, and waited, and waited…and then, all of a sudden, there was a billowing explosion of sand and grey smoke from beneath the shuttle.

Loose Lucy
silently rose from the ground, riding atop a fiery column that scorched the place where it had once rested. Craning our necks, we watched the shuttle as it grew ever smaller, becoming little more than a tiny sliver that was soon swallowed by the dark sky. By then the tremors were continuous; the shuttle had barely disappeared when the dust storm obscured everything in sight. I caught a glimpse of the crate lid being picked up by the wind and hurtled away, followed a second later by the crate itself falling over on its side. And then…

Everything froze.

One instant, we were in the midst of a world's dying moments. The next, we found ourselves caught within a split second of suspended time, as if reality itself had come to a standstill. And at that instant, words appeared in the air, holographically superimposed upon the landscape.

Impressive. Quite impressive, indeed.

The words wrapped themselves around us, forming a semicircle of script. As we turned to read them, we discovered someone was with us.

The
chaaz'braan
.

XIII

The
askanta
holy man…well, holy frog…stood only a few feet away, unobscured by the dust that masked everything else in sight. Obviously another hologram: no breathing apparatus, but instead the same robes he'd worn the first time we'd met. His heavy-lidded eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement as he raised a four-fingered hand from beneath his robes, but when his thick lips moved, we saw his words instead of hearing them.

Allow me to make us a little more comfortable.

His fingers twitched slightly, and suddenly the scene around us reverted back to the way it had been a few minutes earlier. Once again, my doppelgänger stood nearby, caught in the act of backing away from the
hjadd
probe.

There. That's better.

The
chaaz'braan
sauntered toward my image, stopping to look at it more closely. When he spoke, his words curled around us, forming a ring.

This really was quite an act of courage. You could have simply thrown the probe from your spacecraft and launched again, but instead you chose to place it on the ground and make sure that it was properly activated.

“Thank you.” Rain then shook her head. “Pardon me, but I don't understand why you're…” She gestured toward the holographic script, which was already fading from sight. “Communicating with us this way, I mean.”

The
chaaz'braan
turned to us. Again, when his mouth moved, we heard nothing but silence.

It is the custom of
Sa'Tong
that my voice remain unheard, save during formal ceremonies. Like other races of the Talus, I use a translator. Unlike them, though, what I say is transcribed. So this is my way of addressing visitors during informal occasions.

As he spoke, other figures began to materialize, forming a broad circle that surrounded us: aliens whom we'd seen during the reception, apparently representatives of the High Council. They observed our conversation in silence; I assumed that they were also seeing what the
chaaz'braan
had to say, only translated into their own languages.

“But you didn't do that before.” I did my best to ignore our audience. “I mean, when we were at the reception.”

Saliva drooled from the
chaaz'braan's
fleshy mouth as it spread into a broad smile.

You didn't give me a chance. That's understandable, considering that you were not in a sober state of mind. Otherwise, we might have had a pleasant discussion.

Again, he turned toward my image. It seemed as if he was studying it with admiration.

This truly is amazing. Such courage is rare among intelligent races. Particularly the
hjadd
, who seldom take risks. At least not if they can get someone else to do it for them.

“So you're satisfied that we've done what you asked us to do?” Rain had noticed the other aliens as well, but she kept her attention on the
chaaz'braan
.

You've performed an immense service to the Talus. The probe didn't survive very long, but while it did, data was gathered that will be invaluable to our scientists. In time, it may eventually help us devise the means by which to destroy Kasimasta.

“Destroy a black hole?” I shook my head. “That's…I'm sorry, but that's impossible.”

The
chaaz'braan
regarded me with what seemed to be condescension.

Nothing is impossible. Once your kind becomes more sophisticated, you will learn this. Perhaps as you interact with other races of the galaxy.

“Then I take it that we've fulfilled our obligation.” I let out my breath. “I didn't have a chance to say so myself, but I'm very sorry that I offended you. We will try not to do so again.”

It was only a misunderstanding. You were not informed of the practices and customs of
Sa'Tong
. The god that is you will know better next time.

The god that is you?
“What do you mean by that?”

Sa'Tong
holds that there is no god except those that we create ourselves. Therefore, if you have created a god, then you yourself are a god, and therefore are responsible for your own actions.

I nodded. Made sense, although I imagined that a few theologians among my own kind would argue with it. Before I could say anything, though, my image faded away, and the
chaaz'braan
spoke again.

Be that as it may, you must know that, before your kind is allowed to join the Talus, there are other obligations we may wish for you to fulfill.

“Other obligations?” I stared at him. “What do you mean?”

As I said, you have demonstrated a certain fortitude that is rarely seen. This will be useful to us. So before your race is admitted into the Talus, you will be given other tasks that we wish to be performed on our behalf.

“No.” I shook my head. “Sorry, but…no.”

Rain looked around at me, her mouth falling open in astonishment. And indeed, I almost regretted my words even as I spoke them. After all, you don't tell the great galactic frog to go jump a lily pad.

But I knew where this was going to lead. One day, it was risking life and limb to place a probe in the path of a rogue black hole. The next…well, what then? Dive a ship into the heart of a supernova to see if we'd get burned? Take on a race of killer tomatoes? Maybe Goldstein would assent to all this in hopes of getting a good deal for his next shipment of cannabis, but I wasn't about to let humankind become the crash-test dummies of the galaxy.

“Look,” I went on, “we've kept our side of the bargain…and believe me when I tell you that we thought we were going to die doing it. But it's done, and that's it. No more.”

The
chaaz'braan's
eyes narrowed.

You don't have a choice.

“Oh, yes, we do.” Sucking up my courage, I took a step toward him. “We can go back to where we came from, and never have anything to do with you again. Nice to make your acquaintance, but…well, if you think we're going to be your cabana boys from now on, then think again.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see the members of the High Council turning toward one another. We couldn't hear what they were saying, but I had little doubt that I'd ruffled fur, feathers, scales, or whatever else they had on them.

“Jules…” Rain whispered. “What are you…?”

I ignored her. Too late to back down now. And damn it, it was time to take a stand.

“We are what we are,” I went on. “Perhaps we're not as mature as you'd like us to be. Maybe we're going to make mistakes. I know I have, and my friends have had to pay for me being a fool. But you're just going to have to accept that, though, and cut us some slack.”

I paused, then shook my head. “But no more conditions. No more jobs. Period.”

The
chaaz'braan
said nothing. For several seconds, the air around us remained clear, vacant of floating words. He stared at me for a long time, the wattles of his thick neck trembling with what I assumed was irritation. Around us, the other aliens continued to talk among themselves. Hard not to figure out what they were saying:
who the hell does he think he is?

I stole a glance at Rain. Her face had gone pale, but she nodded in quiet agreement. I'd just drawn a line in the sand; now we would have to see whether they would cross it. At last, the
chaaz'braan
spoke.

You may return to your world. We will be contacting you soon with our decision.

And then, without so much as a farewell, he faded from sight. An instant later, the other aliens vanished.

The room went dark, save for the shaft of light in which Rain and I once again found ourselves. The door through which we'd entered swirled open, revealing the corridor beyond. Neither of us said anything as we left the room, but as the door shut behind us, she let out her breath.

“So”—she hesitated—“what do we tell the others?”

I shrugged. “We tell 'em we can go home. After that…I don't know.”

XIV

Three days later, I was sitting in the bleachers of University Field, watching the Battling Boids thump the Fighting Swampers.

The Boids had gotten a little better since the last time I'd seen them…which seemed like a lifetime ago, although it had only been a week. Either that, or I'd become a little more forgiving; when the Boid pitcher allowed a Swamper to slide into first on a bunt, I wasn't cursing the way I once might have. Perhaps I'd grown up a bit. Or maybe it was simply because, once you've been halfway across the galaxy and back again, it's hard to take baseball seriously anymore.

Indeed, ever since my return from Rho Coronae Borealis, it had been hard for me to get back into the habits of my old life. Ash was right; now that I'd seen the Great Beyond, nothing was the same again. Oh, I still had my room at the Soldier's Joy, and the previous night I'd trooped over to Lew's Cantina and put away a few pints of ale…but when I had finally left the bar, I'd found myself standing in the middle of the street, staring up at the night sky. Somewhere out there were countless worlds whose inhabitants were waiting for humankind to join them. What are beer and baseball compared to that?

But it was more than that. I was alone.

Rain wasn't with me.

When the
Pride of Cucamonga
finally made the jump back to 47 Ursae Majoris, hardly anyone took notice of our return. I wasn't expecting a parade, mind you, but nonetheless it was disappointing to find that no one paid attention to the fact that we'd just completed a journey of more than four hundred and fourteen light-years. Indeed, we practically limped home; there was barely enough fuel left in the tank to get us from the starbridge, and a shuttle had to be sent up from New Brighton to meet us once the ship settled into orbit above Coyote. As the shuttle detached from the docking collar, I caught one last glimpse of the
Pride
through the window beside my seat. Before we'd left, she had merely been a beat-up old freighter. Now, with her cargo modules gone, her shuttle missing, and her hull plates pitted, warped, and scorched, she looked like a candidate for the junkyard.

Nonetheless, she'd brought us safely home. No one said anything as the shuttle peeled away, but I couldn't help but notice Emily rubbing the corners of her eyes, or the way Doc gnawed at his lower lip. I think everyone was saying farewell in their own silent way.

We touched down in New Brighton, and it was there that we saw the last of Morgan Goldstein and Mahamatasja Jas Sa-Fhadda. Once Rain and I had returned to the
Pride
after our meeting with the
chaaz'braan
, I was surprised to learn that Jas had already come back aboard and programmed the coordinates for 47 Uma into the nav system. After that, the Prime Emissary spent the rest of the trip in hisher cabin; when the shuttle landed, Morgan escorted himher to a waiting hovercoupe, and the two of them departed without so much as a good-bye, leaving the rest of us to catch the afternoon gyrobus to New Florida. Hell, we even had to pay the fare ourselves.

Not that our merry band had much left to say to one another. Perhaps it's uncharitable to say it, but the truth of the matter was that we were sick and tired of each other. It had been a long and exhausting journey, and I think all of us were just happy to get home alive. So the ride back to Liberty was made in near silence, and once we got there everyone pretty much went their separate ways. Ted and Emily caught a shag wagon to their house, Doc escorted Ali to the hospital for further treatment, Ash lurched off to the nearest watering hole, and Rain and I…

Ah, but that's a different story, isn't it?

Sure, we went back to the Soldier's Joy together. That's where we'd left our belongings; for me, it was the only home I knew, at least on Coyote. But if I had any notions that Rain and I would consummate our romance with a playful romp in bed, I was sadly mistaken. Once we retrieved our room keys from the front desk, Rain gave me a quick buss on the cheek and said that she'd see me later. Since the landlady was giving us the eye, I figured that it was a bad time to push the issue. Besides, I was dead tired; all I really wanted to do in bed just then was study the insides of my eyelids.

So I went up to my room and rediscovered the subtle charm of being able to sleep on a mattress. Eight hours in the hay, followed by a hot shower and a change of clothes, put me in a better frame of mind. The sun had risen on a new day, and I figured that the proper thing to do was find Rain and buy her breakfast. And while we were at it, perhaps we'd figure out what to do next.

Yes, well…maybe that's the way things should have gone. But it wasn't the way it went.

When I knocked on her door, there was no answer, and when I checked the dining room, I saw only a handful of strangers. I was about to go back to her room and try again when the innkeeper spotted me crossing the lobby. Was I looking for my lady friend? Sorry, sir, but she'd checked out earlier that morning…and no, she hadn't left a forwarding address.

And that was it. She was gone.

XV

So there I was, watching a baseball game and trying not to feel like a guy whose heart had just been carved from his chest and handed to him, when someone sat down on the bench next to me. I looked around, and saw that it was Rain.

“Hi,” she said. “Miss me?”

“Umm…” About a half dozen possible responses flashed through my mind, some more heated than others. I settled for the simplest and least angry. “Yeah, I did. Where have you been?”

“Away.” She wore a homespun hemp sweater and a long cotton skirt, and it was the first time in a while that I'd seen her in anything that wasn't suitable for space travel; the change was nice. Aware that her reply didn't explain much, she went on. “I needed to get away for a bit, think things over. So I went to stay with my aunt and uncle, and now…”

A crack of a bat, and we looked up in time to see a Boid send a fly ball into center field. The Swamper outfielders, slow off the mark, scrambled to catch it, but they recovered too late to prevent the batter from making it safely to first or the guy on second from grabbing third. The crowd around us clapped and shouted, save for the handful of Swamper fans who scowled at another lousy defensive play by their team.

“So you're back,” I said, once everyone had settled down again. “Did you…I mean, have you worked things out?”

Rain didn't say anything for a moment. She sat next to me, arms propped on her knees, a smile on her face that was both warm and cautious. “What about you? I see you've still got a room at the inn…or at least you did when I checked a little while ago.”

That must have been how she found me; I'd mentioned to the landlady that I was planning to go to the ball game. “Yeah, I'm still there. Right after you left, Morgan sent over his man Kennedy with a check for what he owed me. Not much, but enough to pay the rent.” I shrugged. “Or at least until the proctors haul me off to the stockade.”

“They won't.” She shook her head. “Whatever else happens, that's not something you have to worry about anymore.”

She said this with such confidence that I forgot about the game. “How do you know?”

“Umm…” Rain hesitated. “I told you I went to stay with my aunt and uncle, right?” I nodded. “And you know, of course, that my family is pretty well connected?”

I recalled my argument with Ted, shortly before the
Pride
set out for Rho Coronae Borealis, during which he'd quietly let me know that Rain's family owned the Thompson Wood Company. I hadn't thought much about it since then, but now…“Yeah, I know that.”

“But I bet you don't know just how well connected they are.” Moving a little closer, she dropped her voice so that she wouldn't be overheard. “Ever heard of Carlos Montero? Or Wendy Gunther?”

I hadn't been on Coyote long enough to learn all of its history, but nevertheless, those were names that even people on Earth recognized. “Sure. Original colonists. Led the Revolution. Went on to become presidents of the Coyote Federation, one after the other. Why do you…?”

My voice trailed off as I suddenly realized what she was saying. Before I could do little more than turn my mouth into a bug trap, she gave me a solemn nod.

“Uh-huh. My mother is Carlos's younger sister. She married into the Thompson family, which makes Hawk and me…” Realizing that she was about to mention her brother again, she stopped herself. “Anyway, they're my aunt and uncle. Surprised?”

“Yes.” That was all I could manage at the moment.

“Thought you might be. At any rate…” Rain folded her hands together in the lap of her skirt. “While I was staying with them, I told them all about you and how Morgan has tried to screw you out of the deal you guys made. Now, even though Uncle Carlos also happens to be one of Janus's major investors, he's also learned not to trust Morgan very much. And if there's anyone in Liberty with more clout than Morgan Goldstein, it's my uncle.”

“So what does this…?”

“Mean?” A sly smile. “To make a long story short, this morning he met with the Chief Magistrate, and over coffee he managed to persuade her to drop all charges against you. Not only that, but your plea for political amnesty is being”—a sly wink—“considered. But since you've got him on your side, I'd say it's a safe bet.”

I let out my breath, shut my eyes. For a few moments, I didn't know how to respond. Rain must have sensed this, because she took my hand. “It's okay,” she murmured. “All you have to do is say, ‘Thank you, Rain.'”

“Thank you, Rain.” Then I looked at her again. “Do you know just how much I…?”

“I'm not done yet.”

Down in the batter's box, a Boid finally struck out, ending the fifth inning. I wasn't paying much attention to the game anymore. “There's more?”

“Uh-huh.” Rain gently removed her hand from mine. “Speaking of Morgan…”

“Oh, crap. Here it comes.” I shook my head. “He's not very happy with me, y'know. Not after I dumped his cargo. And I can't imagine he's going to be very pleased about…”

“He's not, but that doesn't matter anymore.” She hesitated. “He knows about what happened back there. On
Talus qua'spah
, I mean.”

I stared at her. We'd been careful not to reveal the details of our encounter with the
chaaz'braan
and the Talus High Council, other than to tell the rest of the crew that we'd met our obligation and had been given permission to return to Coyote. “You didn't tell him…I mean, about what I said to…?”

“I didn't, no…but he learned that for himself. From Jas.” Another pause. “That's the other reason I'm here. Heshe called me last night and told me that heshe wants to see you.”

“Jas?” I asked, and she nodded. “When? Now?”

“Uh-huh. Now.” She glanced at the field. “Unless, of course, you'd rather wait until this is over.”

It was the top of the sixth, with the Boids leading the Swampers 5–2. I figured that my team could get along without me, so I stood up. “No sense in keeping himher waiting,” I said, offering her my hand. “Let's go.”

XVI

We climbed down from the bleachers and left the field, then walked across the university campus until we reached the low hill overlooking the
hjadd
embassy. An ironic moment; it was at that very same spot Morgan had told me how he wanted to gain access to their technology. In only a week or so, I'd come full circle.

I thought Rain was going to take me the rest of the way to the compound; instead, she stopped and took a seat on the wooden bench beneath the trees. Puzzled, I was about to ask her why, when she looked past me and nodded. I looked around as two familiar figures emerged from the shadows behind a tree.

Jas, once again wearing hisher environment suit. And with himher, Ash.

I couldn't say which of them I was more surprised to see. The
hjadd
seldom left their embassy. Not only that, but judging from his steady gait, I could tell that Ash was stone-sober.

“No, I haven't been drinking.” As usual, Ash was one thought ahead of me. “To tell the truth, I haven't touched a drop since…” A sheepish grin from within his hood. “Well, since the bender I had right after we got back.”

Two days. For him, that was something of a record. “I've been wondering why I haven't heard from you…your guitar, that is. You're not at the inn anymore?”

“Checked out the next morning, after I spent the night in an alley.” He reached up to pull back his hood. “Y'know, every now and then, an alcoholic receives a moment of clarity when you come to realize that, if you don't stop drinking, you're going to die. I think I had my moment while we were out there…just took a little while for it to sink in, that's all.”

“So you're on the wagon?” I asked, and he nodded. “Good for you.”

“Well…” Ash glanced at Jas. “I'm getting a little help from a friend.”