Neptune Crossing (The Chaos Chronicles) (25 page)

Read Neptune Crossing (The Chaos Chronicles) Online

Authors: Jeffrey A. Carver

Tags: #science fiction, #Carver, #Novels

BOOK: Neptune Crossing (The Chaos Chronicles)
10.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

/// No—I mean,

it's not that I'm so smart.

Really.

There's a lot I don't understand.

Yes, I had the ability to make the connection,

but it doesn't mean I can predict

everything that's going to happen in your datanet.

Please believe me! ///

Bandicut lay silent, thinking. Believe the quarx? Why should he? Hadn't the quarx just prevented him from having a very pleasant, and totally harmless, interlude with Julie?

/// Look, John—about Julie. ///

/What about her?/

/// Well, I'm sorry I messed things up for you. ///

/Oh./

/// It's just that...

certain things are very difficult for me. ///

He thought he sensed acute embarrassment in the quarx's thoughts, but he couldn't quite make out the reason for it. /If you want me to believe you,/ he said, /I think you'd better explain what you mean by that. The whole truth./

The quarx hesitated.

/// It's hard to talk about. ///

/Talk anyway. Or I walk./

Charlie's reluctance was almost palpable.

/// Can't you just trust me? ///

/Trust?/ he snarled. /You want
trust?
You better start trusting
me
enough to tell me the truth, damn you./

Several seconds passed before Charlie spoke again. Bandicut felt a wave of shadow pass across his visual field. He steeled himself for confrontation.

/// It's not what you think, ///

Charlie said at last, in a voice tinged with an emotion that Bandicut did not at once recognize. And then he did. It was shame.

The emotion rolled over him like an ocean swell. He was suddenly aware of fragmented bits of memory of other living beings, races that the quarx had touched at some point in its various lives...nothing visual, nothing that would help him recognize the beings in a dark alley...but visceral impressions of carnality, of organic ferment, the rich scents of sexuality, of decay, of
unclean material life.
He struggled to follow.

/// This must shock you. ///

/What?/ he whispered.

/// Just that— ///

The quarx hesitated, as though trying to let go of something bottled up inside. Suddenly he erupted with a yell:

/// HOW CAN YOU STAND IT? ///

Bandicut reeled.

/// The chemistry!

The oils, the smells, the dirt, the sweat!

The eggs and sperm!

The pheromones and the damp breath!

The skin! ///

Bandicut was stunned silent. The quarx was shivering in his mind. /But that's part of life,/ he whispered at last.

/// It's not part of MY life!

How can you live in the midst of it, John?

How can you? ///

The quarx was weeping in his mind.

/I couldn't live
without
it,/ he whispered.

/// Yes, yes—I know.

But it's so...so... ///

If the quarx couldn't find the words, Bandicut could. /You're fucking
xenophobic!
Is that it?/ He blinked in disbelief.

/// I— ///

/That
is
it, isn't it?/ Bandicut whispered. /You can't stand the thought of any kind of life that isn't like yours!/

Charlie moaned,

/// No, I—I really can't. ///

/But you
live
inside other people! You're living inside
me!
Does that mean you can't stand me, either?/

/// No, no, you're different. ///

/Like hell I am./

/// No, really!

A host is always...different. ///

/I'm so touched./

/// But—coupling— ///

 The quarx practically shuddered in his brain.

/// It's too...organic. ///

Bandicut held his breath. /You mean coupling, as in...sex?/

/// I really can't...

it makes me...

John, I can't STAND the thought! ///

Bandicut let his breath out in a slow sigh. /Well, isn't that just wonderful,/ he said bitterly. /And that's why you interrupted me?/

/// I'm afraid so.

Yes.

I'm sorry, John. ///

/
I'm sorry!
/ Bandicut mimicked savagely. He drew a deep breath, and then another. /What the hell gives you the right to dictate what I do or don't do?/ he exploded, shaking with rage.

/// Well, I—just couldn't help it. ///

/I didn't invite you to take up residence here, you know! I can't believe this! Not only have I got a fr'deekin' alien, but he's a fr'deekin'
xenophobe
who can't stand to see humans...have a little.../ He ran out of words, with a gasp.

/// It's not something I'm proud of, ///

the quarx muttered.

/I should hope not. I should damn well hope not./

/// I'm going to...try to improve.

That's all I can do.

It's the way we're made, that's all.

I hope...you're not angry, are you? ///

He began laughing bitterly, and laughed until his eyes were full of tears. Then he abruptly fell silent, flat on his back in his bunk. /Get out of my brain,/ he whispered. /Just get out of my brain, you miserable, disgusting little creature.../

*

The quarx seemed to retreat into a tight ball in his mind. Bandicut tossed and turned, trying to forget the whole thing and go to sleep. It was impossible. Though he'd never been married, he wondered if this was what it was like to try to sleep with a partner with whom you were furious. The gloom of his bunk seemed to surround him with an angry glare.

He sighed bitterly, wondering whether to say something to the quarx. Not that he wasn't still angry; but they were, after all, stuck with each other. He supposed he was going to have to make the best of it.

But what was there to say?

After a time, he found his thoughts blurring. He thought, at one point, that he sensed a tiny tendril of presence reach out and touch something in his mind. Somehow it was a calming touch, and a few moments later, his thoughts quieted like a fading storm, and he drifted to sleep.

*

He dreamed of balls, EineySteiney balls. He dreamed of balls colliding and rebounding, tracing strange and impossible trajectories around a vast pool table, spinning past gravity wells and sliding, floating, never quite coming to rest. He felt that there was some strange and wonderful order in the way that they moved, some chaotic pattern that was not order as he knew it, but another kind of order...

He dreamed of planets and planetary bodies spinning in strange and impossible trajectories, in a chaotic dance of the spheres that only the most perceptive could fathom...

He dreamed of fire, consuming fire, the fire of a thousand suns...

Chapter 18

Just the Facts

He woke gradually, with fantastic imagery passing before his eyes: moving fractals and spinning chaotic attractors. He knew what the images were, though he didn't understand them. Some of them looked like exotic alien landscapes, and some like exploding crystals; he knew that they were neither, but rather mathematical representations. After a while, the images changed to color impressions that held no meaning for him whatever. He sensed that these were something from the quarx's personal experience.

/// Are you awake? ///

the quarx asked tentatively.

He blinked his eyes open. For a moment, the images hung like transparent holograms in front of him; then they faded, and he was left with his own vision. /Yah—I'm awake./

/// Are you still...mad? ///

He sighed, remembering last night. /Yeah. I dunno. Are you making a peace offering?/

/// I guess...you could say that. ///

He thought of Julie.

/// I really am sorry, you know. ///

/Sorry enough to stay out of my way the next time I meet up with Julie?/

/// I'll try. Very hard.

I'm not sure...I can promise to succeed. ///

/Mmm./ Bandicut decided that that was probably the best he could hope for. He sat up, banging his head on the bunk overhead. "OW! Damn it!"

/// Would you like me to stop you

when I see you getting ready to do that? ///

/I would appreciate that very much./ Bandicut sighed, thinking that as long as he and the quarx were together, then he was going to have to make the best of it.

Charlie cleared his throat.

/// About the mission... ///

/Yes? Are we going to get moving on that?/

/// Well, we still need to get

back to the translator,

to find out exactly what we have to do.

And the sooner the better. ///

Bandicut grunted. /I can't control that./

/// I know. I don't think any of us

anticipated the difficulty we would have in returning.

But until we do,

we can't pinpoint the danger

that we have to stop. ///

Bandicut rubbed his eyebrows wearily. /So maybe it's time we
told
somebody about the danger. Then
they
could look for it, and take care of it, and we could quit worrying./

/// I'm afraid that's not a viable option.

The social turbulence factors are too great,

the time is too short.

And I know Charlie-One

didn't trust your superiors. ///

/Yeah, well.../ Bandicut couldn't argue with that. /Did he tell you all this in that little meeting we had?/

/// A lot of it.

And he helped me put together some pieces

that I already had.

But the important question is,

do you believe that we can't go public—

at least not yet? ///

Bandicut pulled the privacy-curtain open and slid out of his bunk. His ankle ached fiercely. /All right—yes—you win./

/// You're still mad, aren't you? ///

the quarx asked softly.

/Yeah./ He stumped toward the lav. The dorm was deserted. He realized that he had slept past the start of the workday, and then he realized that it didn't matter, because he was on the injured list. /I'll get over it. So what do you suggest, if we can't tell anyone?/

/// If you have nothing else to do... ///

/You already know I don't./

/// Then may we do some library research? ///

/In the datanet?/ Bandicut blanched, thinking of the havoc the quarx had wreaked last night.

/// If it's up, yes.

But I promise—no more meddling. ///

/All right. After we eat./ Bandicut dressed quickly. /But if you're lying about meddling.../

/// Hm? ///

/I'm gonna cut your balls off./

/// Uh...okay... ///

*

As it turned out, a portion of the datanet was back up, though not the connection to the inner solar system. Bandicut saw nothing to suggest that any connection had been made between the net crash and his own presence, which was a considerable relief. And Charlie was presently only interested in the general history files, which were easily available in the local library.

The quarx spun through chapter after chapter of human history, while Bandicut, feeling a bit like a kid tagging along after a more knowledgeable older kid, glanced at some of the more interesting bits as Charlie scanned. From time to time, Charlie asked him for further illumination on historical questions, and almost invariably, he had to plead ignorance. History had never been a great interest of his.

/// But you know that your history

is full of violence among your own kind,

don't you? ///

/Of course. So what?/ Bandicut answered in irritation. They had covered all four of Earth's world wars, then jumped back to the Roman and Greek wars, then ahead to the crucifixion of Christ, then forward again to the Inquisitions and the Crusades. /What are you looking for exactly?/

/// Information...understanding.

For the social-attractor analysis.

And, to be honest, my own curiosity.

Look at this—

Nation after nation destroyed, subjugated,

entire peoples living under coercion...

murder, mayhem, rape, thievery.

It goes on and on,

all through the history of your species. ///

/Are you reciting all this just to make me depressed?/

/// No, no, I want to know your thoughts.

Do you know why this is true?

None of these experts seem to agree. ///

/Yes, well, what do you expect from experts? No, I have no idea. Just human nature, I guess. Isn't it like that everywhere?/ He was surprised by the quarx's puzzlement.

/// Actually, no.

I mean, it happens—yes.

But many sentient races reserve their violence

for outsiders. ///

Bandicut thought about that. /Really? You mean, we're more violent than most?/

/// Among yourselves, yes.

The odd thing is that you seem to accept it—

even relatively nonviolent individuals like you. ///

/I—well—now, just a mokin' minute. I don't
accept
nothin'—but that doesn't mean I can do anything about it. How would
you
change a whole race's behavior pattern, if you're so damn smart?/

Other books

Lost! by Bindi Irwin
Operation Chimera by Tony Healey, Matthew S. Cox
The Persian Price by Evelyn Anthony
Destiny by Design by Wylie Kinson
Finding Harmony by Norwell, Leona
What Janie Found by Caroline B. Cooney
Christmas Moon by Sadie Hart
Bleak Expectations by Mark Evans
Antique Mirror by D.F. Jones