The Candle of Distant Earth (15 page)

Initial requests for Walker and his friends to visit the Iollth ships had been politely declined. At first offended, the Iollth were informed by their former foe and new allies the Niyyuu that as commander of such an extensive force, the human Walker had far too much on his mind to devote any time to such frivolities, pleasant though they might be. This excuse the Iollth understood. At speed, of course, any kind of physical ship-to-ship transfer was impossible. So the Iollth would have to wait until the ships emerged back into normal space-time before they could further venerate their new leader.

Though she was as fully Niyyuu as any warrior of her kind, Sobj-oes, for one, was relieved that the fighting had been resolved with so little loss of life and that all available resources could once more be devoted to trying to carry their four guests homeward—and to the pursuit of science.

“As has been discussed, given what we know about when each of you was taken by the Vilenjji, when we reach world of Tuuqalia we will ask information of their astronomers and try work out vectors for Earth and K'erem from there.”

“
If
we can find Tuuqalia.” From his cushion on the other side of the cabin, George spoke without raising his chin from the fabric. “As I recall, you don't have an exact course to the nearest port. Just a line on the general area.”

Sobj-oes's neck frill flared. “We confident that once in spatial vicinity of advanced world like Tuuqalia, will be able locate system of singer-warrior Braouk. Work of Hyfftian astronomers correlates well with initial calculations made on Niyu.” Towering over the dog, she bent toward him. “You should have more confidence in yous friends, friend George.” Straightening, she gestured toward Walker, who lounged nearby trying to unravel the secrets of a Hyfftian play-globe and its concentric spheres of electric color. “You should try be more like your companion Walker.”

“You mean, ‘dim'?” Unreassured, the dog sank his face even lower into the cushion.

From the far side of the cargo cabin that had been modified for their personal use, Braouk parted vertically aligned jaws and displayed saw-edged teeth. “There is a sub-saga that specifically addresses your apprehension, friend George. If you like, I will recite it, for you.”

The dog looked over at the vast hill of flesh that was the Tuuqalian. Braouk had been less melancholy than usual lately. And no wonder, George mused sourly. It was
his
homeworld they were heading for.

“Thanks, Braouk, but I'm not in the mood.”

“Set your mind at rest, sardonic quadruped.” From her resting place in a misting fountain that had been installed specifically for her comfort, Sque squinted across at the cynical canine. “So long as you have my enlightening and didactic company to enjoy, you are being well looked after. Probably more so than in your entire life.”

Raising his head slightly from the soft artificial material, George gazed thoughtfully at the K'eremu. What would it be like to have a creature like her as a master? he found himself wondering. Of course, Sque doubtless felt she was master of them all already.

Master. Though they had taken him as a captive, the Vilenjji had also given him higher intelligence and the power of speech. In addition to allowing him to communicate with others, these “enhancements” had saddled him with the ability to reflect.

Born a street dog, he'd never had a master. Eking out an existence on the back streets and in the alleys of Chicago, he'd sometimes envied, in his primitive, uncognitive canine fashion, the pampered appearance of dogs on leashes and in cars. They smelled of food, rich and thick. Now he was able to understand why. They lived in houses or apartments with humans. As pets, who had masters. Having been granted intelligence, he knew he now could never suffer such an existence, no matter how cosseting. Not only had he seen too much and experienced too much: he knew too much.

What if, upon some still tenuous and possibly dubious return to Earth, his alien-imparted enhanced intelligence failed, leaving him once more as incapable of advanced cognition as the other mutts with whom he had roamed the rough streets, fighting and breeding, only dimly aware of the greater reality through which they moved? The prospect made him shudder. If it happened, would it occur instantly or as a slow, agonizing diminution of consciousness? When it finally happened, would he even retain enough awareness to be conscious of the loss?

He found himself staring at Walker. Wholly absorbed in trying to puzzle out the workings of the Hyfftian toy, the human ignored him. They had been through much together. Unbelievable experiences. Did that guarantee that in the event of intelligence loss Walker would take him in? As a
pet
? Would Walker have him fixed?

There were times, he brooded gloomily, when he regretted the involuntary modifications the Vilenjji had made to him. While his enhanced intelligence had opened him to, literally, a universe of experience, it also simultaneously forced him to contemplate the horror of its possible loss. His was no longer a dog's life, simple but content, ignorant but mentally at ease. With a sigh, he rolled onto his side and stretched, all four legs quivering slightly as he did so. In this position he could see one of the many floating readouts that populated the interior of the Niyyuuan ship. At present it was displaying the view outside, precisely adjusted for spatial-temporal distortion. Stars and nebulae shone in the heavens, an unimaginably impressive blaze of ferocious light and dazzling color. Before, they had only been points of light dotting the night sky. Now, he knew what they were. That knowledge simultaneously enhanced and diminished his view of them.

He felt a sudden urge to howl, and caught himself barely in time.

H
yperspace, doublespace, inside-out space: the name for the continuum they were passing through translated differently depending not only on whether one was speaking with Niyyuu as opposed to Iollth, but on specific moments in time and transition. Elsewhere, George took to calling it. Whether standing still or traveling at speed by starcraft, it was the place he and his human had been consigned to ever since their abduction from Earth.

“It doesn't matter, Marc,” the dog declared as they made their way toward the central command room. “Wherever we are, it's someplace we shouldn't be.”

“Not true.” Walker nodded to a passing Iollth avatar as the perambulating image of the squat creature floated past them. Similar ancient and traditional martial interests had gone a long way toward relaxing the initial tension between the tormentors of the Hyfft and their Niyyuuan conquerors, so much so that electronic avatars of both species were now allowed to visit one another's ships.

“We are someplace definite,” he told his friend. “We're on our way home.”

The dog let out a derisive snort. “
Our
way home? We're on our way to Tuuqalia, and that if we're lucky. Earth is still nothing more than a word. And if we don't find Tuuqalia, we'll probably have to go all the way back to Hyff and start all over again—or even back to Niyu.” He snapped at an imaginary passing fly. “Intellect notwithstanding, what I wouldn't give for the comfort of a sweet bitch and an old bone.”

Mentally drifting, Walker nearly murmured, “Me too,” before the detailed meaning of his friend's words sank in. “Steak,” he mumbled. “Real coffee. No more synthetics.”

“We've arrived,” George prompted him, breaking into his companion's reverie. “Better pack in useless thoughts. No drooling in the command center.”

Gerlla-hyn and Sobj-oes were waiting for them. The Niyyuuan Commander-Captain's frill was taut and his tails were quivering, while the astronomer was clearly straining to contain herself. Above them, multiple levels of Niyyuuan technicians worked at mobile consoles, the design of their workspace reflecting the vertically inclined aesthetic of their kind. A Niyyuuan worker was more comfortable above or below colleagues than beside them.

Though no more unpleasant than that of any other of his kind, Gerlla-hyn's voice still grated on Walker's ears. He was not used to the sound of Niyyuuan voices—and never would be. Such acceptance was beyond the aural tolerance of any human. But he and George had both learned to endure the persistent scraping noises that emerged from the slender Niyyuuan throat to form the terse, brusque speech of their kind.

“Wonderful news!” The Commander-Captain's obvious enthusiasm somewhat allayed the shock to Walker's ears. “We have pick up strong signals that yous large friend Braouk has identified as belonging his people.” Twirling gracefully, Gerlla-hyn gestured toward a large floating readout. It responded to his prompting with symbols and ideographs that were as alien as ever to Walker. But there was no mistaking the diagram of a star system upon which all manner of lines devolved.

George sniffed the readout. It had no odor. “Tuuqalia?”

“We hope so. Signalings have been tracked to the fourth world in.” Thrusting one of the two long fingers on his left hand into the readout, the Commander-Captain stirred the promising mix. “Am informed by Braouk signalings could be coincidental, or from visiting Tuuqalian ship, but volume and strength of same suggests planetary origin.”

“Latest available schematics have been provided yous oversize companion,” a visibly pleased Sobj-oes informed them. “Distance makes impossible for him to render opinion on surrounding starfield. Is complicated by fact that he not astronomically inclined himself.”

“A simple soul, our Braouk,” Walker murmured as he watched George wander around behind the readout. “I'm sure I couldn't identify my own system from a light-year or two out.” He eyed Gerlla-hyn. “So what you're saying is, essentially, we won't know if this is for real until we get there?”

“Ably put, Marcus.” Sobj-oes consulted the slim reader that resided in her hands so often Walker would not have been surprised to learn it was surgically affixed to its owner. “Will emerge into normal space soon and initiate formal contact. Friend Braouk says his people a developed, space-going species, though not as avid travelers as Sessrimathe. Must ensure upon emergence that is no confusion as to our intentions.”

Walker frowned. “Why would there be? As soon as they learn of our purpose in coming here, they're sure to—”

George interrupted him, his words sage and knowing. “When a strange dog wanders into your neighborhood, Marc, you check him, or her, out. When a strange
pack
wanders in, you raise your hackles, show your teeth, growl, and prepare to run or stand your ground.” One upraised paw indicated the small sphere that represented their destination. “Not being able to run, the inhabitants of this world, be they Tuuqalian or anything else, are likely to do the latter.”

The dog's opinion was supported by Gerlla-hyn. “If one ship is detected emerging into normal space of system, would be likely no notable reaction on part of locals. But are now eight ships escorting you and yous companions. Is number unusual enough to be intimidating.” He cast an approving glance down at George. “Would be atypical if locals not show teeth and growl at such an appearance.” His tone then changed slightly to indicate mild puzzlement. “What are ‘hackles'?”

“Think your frill,” the dog suggested.

Three days later, the inhabitants of the fourth world of the system they were entering raised something somewhat more impressive than hackles or frill.

Braouk's joy knew no bounds when the first transmissions aimed at the arriving Niyyuuan and Iollth ships were not only determined to be Tuuqalian in origin, but that they indeed emanated from that long-sought homeworld itself.

“So long away, from my own world, almost forgotten.” Braouk did not cry, but both eyestalks and upper tentacles trembled in tandem. It was an astonishing sight. “I can hardly believe we are actually here, nearing the homeworld.”

“After all we've been through,” George observed perceptively from the far side of the converted cargo area, “I can hardly believe we're near
anybody's
homeworld.”

Everyone turned their attention to Sobj-oes. The Niyyuuan astronomer had entered their private quarters to deliver the good news in person. Her frill was flushed maroon, a sure sign of excitement. It made Walker think, even at that joyful moment, of Viyv-pym-parr. An episode in his increasingly improbable past. One best forgotten, yet one he seemed unable to shake. He forced himself to focus his attention on the astronomer.

“You're certain? We've been disappointed before.”

Wider even than normal, tarsier-like eyes of yellow and gold turned to him. The round, muscular mouth flexed, the words it emitted mitigating the ear-tormenting timbre of the sound.

“There no mistaking response, Marcus. Utilizing translation facilities, communications staff have already had conversation with inhabitants of fourth world this system. Is without question Tuuqalia.” Turning away from the human, she faced Braouk. “Has been explained one of their own is with us and relevant recording has been transmitted to provide credulous with proof.”

“Essential that is, to reassure my brethren, of amity.” Lowering both tentacles and eyestalks, Braouk rose from his crouch and advanced his tonnage toward the astronomer. “Nevertheless, they will not allow these ships to approach nearer than the orbit of the outer moon Suek. A natural precautionary measure.” Though they were nowhere near enough yet to Tuuqalia for the large external readout screen to show anything other than empty space, he turned longingly in its direction.

“My people should be arriving soon. All those on Niyyuuan and Iollth vessels should be forewarned. The coming confrontation is a normal response and not a hostile gesture.” While one plate-sized eye remained focused on the hovering readout, the other turned back to Sobj-oes. “It would not do to have the forthcoming greeting misinterpreted. The results could be catastrophic.”

The depth of their friend's concern was soon illustrated by the nature of the Tuuqalian greeting to which he was referring. According to Berred-imr of the Niyyuuan command staff, no less than forty ships had risen from the vicinity of Tuuqalia to intercept the incoming force of Niyyuuan and Iollth vessels. It was by far the largest single grouping of starships Walker and his friends, or for that matter the Niyyuu, had ever encountered. Even on their arrival at Seremathenn, they had not seen so many interstellar craft assembled together in one place. What was even more impressive was their first glimpse of one such craft when it arrived and positioned itself fore of the
Jhevn-bha.
Even the intrepid Iollth confessed themselves to be more than a little impressed.

Being big people, the Tuuqalians had constructed big ships.

Taken together, the chain of huge blocky shapes that comprised the three conjoined lines of the Tuuqalian vessel massed more than any three individual Niyyuuan or Iollth craft. Realizing that forty of them now formed an englobement around his own ships was a daunting thought. Almost as daunting as the realization that Walker had come to think of them as “his” ships. The possessive was unintentional, he told himself. He was a nominal leader, not really in charge of anything. Gerlla-hyn was the real commander of the Niyyuuan force, and Ki-ru-vad's dominion caste the controllers of the Iollth quintet.

First, irrepressible thoughts of an inaccessible alien female, and now an absurd mental repositioning of individual importance. He definitely needed to get home. Quickly, before his reasoning splintered any further. More than anything, he needed Tuuqalia to be Earth. But it wasn't, any more than Seremathenn or Niyu had been, and he was going to have to deal with that.

Concentrate on your happy hulk of a friend Broullkoun-uvv-ahd-Hrashkin,
he told himself.
Be delighted for him that he, at least, has finally found his way home. Share in his joy. Take your mind off ridiculous and improvident thoughts. And worry about what those forty ships are capable of and might do if someone drops a wrong word or makes a wrong move.

Though the tension generated by the confrontation did not evaporate entirely on board the ships of the Niyyuu and the Iollth, it diminished considerably once the commanders of the Tuuqalian vessels were able to see and communicate directly with one of their own. As Braouk told his story, suitably embellished with the emblematic oratorical flourishes of his kind, Walker and George found themselves growing increasingly weary from the impassioned but interminable recitation. They had heard it all before, not to mention having experienced it for themselves. Eventually even the Niyyuuan staff in the command room turned to other pursuits as the energized Tuuqalian in their midst rambled on and on. Meanwhile the audience of his own kind listened raptly and apparently without boredom to the never-ending transmission.

Once again, Sque had been ahead of her friends. Envisioning the nature of the initial communication that was likely to take place between Braouk and his kind, the perceptive K'eremu had remained behind in their quarters, happily brooding in her custom-rigged misting pool. The longer Braouk rambled on, the more Walker wanted to join her himself.

Feeling a tug at his lower leg, he looked down to see George pulling at the hem of his pants. As soon as he had the human's attention, the dog released his grip and whispered urgently.

“At this rate we'll all die of old age before loopy eyes here finishes his story—let alone before we can start looking for Earth again.”

Walker crouched down beside his friend. “We can't just cut him off in mid-speech,” he murmured softly while the Tuuqalian orated on. “This is
his
story. His saga.” He indicated the main viewer, which showed several senior Tuuqalians hanging in evident ecstasy on Braouk's every word. “Interrupting wouldn't only be impolite; it might damage our relations with his kinsfolk. We need to get off on the right foot here. We're going to need the help of their astronomers if we're going to have a chance of locating Earth from here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” the dog muttered sullenly. His gaze returned to their oversized companion. As Braouk held forth, his four massive upper tentacles gestured energetically enough to generate a small breeze in the command room. When combined with the movement of his eyestalks, the effect was almost dizzying. “But if he doesn't shut up pretty soon, I'm going to pee on one of those four lower limbs. Let's see how he works that into his ‘saga.'”

Fortunately, George never had to carry out his threat. After only another two hours of endless declamation, Braouk's floridly embellished tale of abduction and final return reached the point where he and his friends and allies had entered the Tuuqalian system and encountered the wary armada sent forth from his homeworld to meet them. All that remained, Walker supposed, was for them to be escorted into orbit around Tuuqalia itself, for Braouk to be warmly received by his brethren, and for the visitors to make application to whatever passed for a professional association of local astronomers to ask for their help in locating distant Earth.