Orphans of Earth (39 page)

She took his point with a curt, reluctant nod. “All right,” she said, facing the alien, “tell them we’re coming in. All of us.”

The alien gave the Yuhl equivalent of a nod and confirmed the arrangement with his superiors on the
Mantissa.
Alander received an impression from Ueh’s voice or body language that he was relieved to be going home. There hadn’t been much for him to do on Sothis, really. The hard work of getting Hatzis to agree to talk had pretty much been accomplished before the meeting had even started.

The hole ship jumped. They were committed. Hatzis walked around the cockpit once, glanced at Alander twice, but said nothing.

* * *

They docked with
a
graceful polygon made out of what
must have been at least a hundred cockpits rotating lazily over the white bulge of a giant hole ship. The simple triangle of
Triumvirate
was dwarfed by it. When its airlock slid open, the yellowish atmosphere of the Yuhl flowed into the cockpit and merged with Ueh’s isolated bubble. Once again, Alander was contained within a force field of the gifts’ making. If it failed...

If it fails, he told himself, there’s still my I-suit. And if that fails, then I won’t have to worry about anything anymore, anyway.

The same conjugator who had hailed them walked in, flanked by two other Yuhl whose broad stockiness suggested to Alander that they might be guards. The conjugator acknowledged Hatzis, Axford, and Alander individually, his wing sheaths twitching with something akin to nervousness. Or perhaps distaste. Alander couldn’t decide which.

“The Praxis is pleased that you have come,” said the Yuhl. “I am Conjugator
Seria/Hile. Please follow me/I will escort you
to the Fit.”

The conjugator turned and walked out of the cockpit, intending them to follow. Ueh and Axford went first, then Alander and Hatzis, with the guards falling in closely behind. Hatzis’s lips were pressed tightly and anxiously together.

They were led into the sort of cramped, apparently disordered habitat Alander had come to expect among the Yuhl. He could see patterns to it now that hadn’t been there before, and he wondered how much of that he owed to the Praxis. The attitude and presentation of each workstation displayed information about the status of the person behind it or the sort of work they did. The layout of each chamber followed information flows and decisionmaking chains rather than hierarchical order, so it was possible to trace a bureaucratic process from one end of the room to the other without missing a link in the chain.

Alander also found that he didn’t need the conjugator to guide him. It was a lot easier, second time around, to tell where to go. The Yuhl used a complicated phonetic written language with symbols comprised of circles and intersecting lines, uncannily like cloud diagrams from particle accelerators. He recognized about one word in three, but he could have found his way to the Fit and back to
Triumvirate
without much difficulty, if he’d had to.

He learned that the helmets by which they would interact with the Fit were called ingurgitation ports, but he kept that to himself. Conjugator
Seria/Hile
led them to four empty ports and indicated that they should sit, Hatzis’s expression was sour as she confronted the cilia-lined mouth of the helmet. Attendants moved into position behind them to make sure they didn’t break free during the ingurgitation process.

Alander didn’t want to see it from the outside. “On three,” he said, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt. Axford nodded sharply and counted down. Alander bent forward with the others, thrusting his head blindly into the glistening mouth before him, while at the same time hearing what might have been a faint moan from Hatzis beside him. The last thing he saw was the gleaming, marked dome of Ueh joining them in the maneuver. It didn’t reassure him to see that the Yuhl’s expression carried as much apprehension and distaste as his own face displayed.

Then he was being smothered again, and he was unable to resist flailing, physically and mentally, as the darkness enfolded him.

“I’m pleased you returned, Peter,” said a voice in the void. He recognized it immediately as belonging to the Praxis.

“Did I have any choice?” he said.

“Always,” said the Praxis smoothly. “And, conversely, never.” It paused for a few seconds before continuing. “Many things could have conspired to prevent this moment. The Ambivalence strikes swiftly and cruelly at times.”

Alander wondered how many times the Praxis had seen potential allies wiped out before negotiations could proceed very far. “I don’t understand what you’re hoping to get out of this,” he said. “Do you want to join forces with us?”

“I want what is best for the
Yuhl/Goel.
That is all.”

“You have no desires for yourself?”

“Beyond survival, there are few,” it replied. “To learn, perhaps; to be kept occupied. Provided I am fed, my needs are small.”

Alander instinctively distrusted such a blithe statement, but he was given no time to pursue it further. He felt a familiar thickening of the darkness around him as the minds and voices of the Fit rose out of the void. This time, though, the nonauditory component that came with the voices was stronger. Apart from odors, he saw flashes of faces and felt odd textures brushing against him. He didn’t know whether they were the result of a closer meshing with the Fit, thanks to the Praxis’s modifications, or whether his mind was triggering the sensations in order to make up for the absence of input.

“It is an honor,” said a voice out of the darkness. In this environment, without the dual vocal streams, Alander almost didn’t recognize the smooth, measured tones of Ueh.

“Speak now, while we will listen,” came the dismissive reply. “Why are you here?”

“For the same reason as last time,” Alander answered. “Humanity wishes to ally itself with the
Yuhl/Goel
.”

“
Why?
” The word was called out by three or more voices, coming across as an ear-piercing shriek.

“So that we can be free to pursue the Species Dream,” he said.

“
How?
” the shrieking voices continued.

“That’s not important,” he said defensively. “Freedom is in an end to itself.”

“But you are already free to pursue the Species Dream,” put in a voice Alander recognized as belonging to the Yuhl called
Status Quo/Mellifluous.
“No one is holding you back.”

“But it is something we cannot achieve on our own. We need your help. And it’s just possible, judging by what I heard last time, that you need our help in return.”

A sound not unlike hail rattling on a metallic roof resounded throughout the dark. Alander put it down to a number of the Fit laughing.

One voice lifted from the noise: “We have already heard this one’s preposterous prattle!”

“Who are the others?” asked another. “What do they want with us?”

“
Envoy/catechist Ueh/Ellil
,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous,
the alien’s voice coming with a suggestion of cumin, “tell us what you have learned about these people.”

“They are stubborn,” said the Yuhl. “But they are also resourceful. At the time of First Contact with the Ambivalence, their primary system was more advanced than ours, despite having suffered significant losses in recent decades. Their societies experience great conflict as a matter of course, and this fuels a cycle of boom and bust that on the whole projects technology and knowledge in an upward direction. Their social structures lean toward central leadership, but once achieved finds that the equilibrium is unstable and quickly fractures. Again, this cyclic pattern tends to result in an overall improvement in quality of life, but at some cost. They are not natural cooperators. Issues of dominance and genetic relationships still color much of their interactions. Even among those they call engrams, who have dispensed with physical bodies in order to achieve sublight interstellar travel, there exists a strong tendency to retain corporeal urges. They impersonate the flesh, unwilling to let go.”

Alander was impressed. So much, he thought, for Ueh not having much to do on Sothis.

“The Praxis would approve of this,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous.
“That explains why it has us consort with the
bodiless/prey
on this occasion.”

He recognized the term
bodiless/prey
even though he had not heard it since his first encounter with the Yuhl, when
Asi/Holina,
the other half of the helot pair Ueh had belonged to, had used it to describe the disembodied Axford.

“If we didn’t have bodies,” he said, “would you have ignored us?”

“Yes,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous.
“That which has no flesh is of no concern to us. Our paths do not overlap.”

“Your needs don’t overlap, you mean.” Hatzis spoke for the first time, her voice accompanied by the faint but unmistakable sensation of human skin touching. “If you’re not competing for the same resources, you can safely ignore them.”

“Should this not be so?”

“Humanity has concepts such as altruism and sympathy,” she said. “We would help you, under those circumstances.”

“It would be safer to say that you would help unless it hurt you too much,” clarified Ueh. “All generosity has its limits. And we know our limitations.”

“So you’re saying it’s easier to watch us die than help us live?”

“In social terms, it could be argued that the cost is much higher,” said a new voice. Alander was glad to hear from
Radical/Provocative
again, even though he came with a strange aftertaste, like vinegar. “Our conscience weighs heavily enough as it is. When our resources were limited and our survival precarious, then we could justify standing aside while other species fell under the Ambivalence. But now we are strong and confident; perhaps now we should seek allies and make them strong, too. As the Praxis has said in the past, variety promotes life.”

“But this is not the Praxis’s decision,” said
Status Quo/ Mellifluous.
“It is ours.”

“Are you seeking to trigger one of your cycles of violence with us?” asked a new voice, needle sharp and cutting. Alander knew instinctively that its name was
Probing/Inquisitive.
“Would that be what you intend by declaring war upon us?”

“You decoded our broadcasts, then,” Hatzis said.

“It was no trivial matter to find the quantum key you used, but not beyond us.”
Probing/Inquisitive
seemed to enjoy her discomfort. “We have been wondering how to respond to your announcement.”

“And have you decided?” asked Hatzis. She sounded calm and unperturbed, which surprised Alander. Given her current position among aliens, and given that these aliens were aware of her intention to wage war upon them, he would have expected her to be a little more apprehensive.

“To do no more than we already have. You hardly comprise a military threat. Now that you have lost the element of surprise, you will find our scouts vulnerable no longer.”

“Perhaps a cycle of violence is just what you need,” said Axford, all gunpowder and smoke.

“Ah, the warrior speaks.”
Probing/Inquisitive
made the rasping noise that broadly correlated to a Yuhl’s chuckle. “But what does he mean?”

“I mean that you’ve been stable for too long. You’ve lost the edge.”

“What edge is this? We are vital, thriving, and versatile. How could we not be, when every few days see us in a new system, a new section of the galaxy, confronting new challenges and reaping new rewards?”

“You’re scavengers,” Axford put in sharply. “You live off the scraps that fall from the Spinners’ table.”

“It is a rich and fertile niche,” the alien defended. “If we didn’t occupy it, someone else soon would.”

“To their detriment, too.”

“You seem very sure of yourself,
Francis/Axford,
and yet you did not know us before. How can you say that the
Yuhl/Goel
are in any way lessened?”

Probing/Inquisitive
was beginning to sound annoyed, and Alander stepped in before Axford could do any permanent diplomatic damage. “We cannot help but be followers of the Species Dream,” he said. “Never having known an alternative, we seek that with which we are familiar. But that doesn’t mean the idea is foolish, just because it comes automatically. It might be that we, like most plants, require a firm foundation on which to grow. A life of constant travel in the company of the Ambivalence might not be the right environment for us to thrive.”

“I understand what you say,” said
Probing/Inquisitive
after a moment’s pause. “But you don’t need our permission to follow the Dream.”

“It would certainly be easier to do that if you weren’t so busy attacking our colonies,” said Hatzis. “As you said,
you’re
thriving. We’re not. If a cycle of violence is what it takes to safeguard our resources, then that’s what you’ll get.”

“To your detriment, surely,” said
Status Quo/Mellifluous.
“Such a war would be pointless. We don’t want it, and you can’t win it.”

“So we might as well cooperate,” said
Radical/Provocative.
“There must be another option besides conflict and avoidance.”

“To what end?” asked
Status Quo/Mellifluous
.

“Change is an end unto itself,”
Radical/Provocative
argued. “The Praxis would agree—”

“And again I say that this is not a matter concerning the Praxis. What happens to us has little bearing on its fate.”
Status Quo/Mellifluous’
s voice was firm and rich with exotic spices. “It will find other feeders, just as it had others before us.”

“Then why do we place such importance on what it thinks?”

“Because that
is
important. While our lives are entwined, its opinions are supremely relevant. It has served us well, just as we have served it. Our mutual dependency is synergistic.”

“It’s a parasite!” exclaimed
Radical/Provocative,
provoking a collective gasp from the assembled Yuhl that startled Alander. “And we are parasites, too. The Praxis is not so much a
bearer/favored
to the
Yuhl/Goel,
but a cancer sucking us dry!”