The Light-years Beneath My Feet (10 page)

Yet as the days stretched into ten-days, and the ten-days into not one but several multiples, the Tuuqalian found himself reflecting more and more on what the anxious Sque had told him that night.

It was not as if their time passed in misery or boredom. Just as there had been on Seremathenn, there was much to see, do, and learn on Niyu, albeit on a less overawing level of sophistication. But the longer they remained, and the more familiar they became with the sometimes seemingly contradictory but rarely dull culture of the Niyyuu, the farther into the galactic distances the dream of returning to the fields and forests and cities of Tuuqalia seemed to recede.

One morning when feeling particularly lonely he confronted the human directly with his concerns.

Walker was alone at his console, verbally organizing and arranging the components of a custom presentation that had been ordered by a private group centered in Ehbahr. The fact that, largely through his skill and expertise, he and his friends were no longer in any way reliant on the charity of the government of Kojn-umm was a source of considerable pride to him. George was sleeping nearby, curled up on a cushion. While it was not animate in the manner of the custom-made Seremathenn rug the dog had brought with him, its semiorganic contents did rise and fall as well as change temperature automatically according to the needs of his body. Eying the small quadruped, Braouk envied it. George needed very little to satisfy him.

Perhaps,
the Tuuqalian thought,
if only I did not have, as do so many of my kind, the soul of an artist.
He could not deny, nor did he ever try to, that like many of his people he was inclined to melancholic brooding.

Nevertheless, despite his characteristic glumness, he did his best not to inflict it on the human, who as Sque frequently pointed out, was subject to wildly vacillating and unpredictable bouts of emotion. Having something of value to contribute to their efforts to return home, Braouk had observed, had noticeably improved the human’s disposition.

“I offer greetings, on this fine midday, my friend.”

Walker nearly jumped out of the narrow Niyyuuan chair, whose rail-thin support he had improved by adding a wide cushion of his own design. “Dammit, Braouk! Do you have to sneak up on people like that?” He eased himself back onto his seat. “I’m always amazed that someone your size can move around with so little noise. I’m afraid you’re going to amaze me once too often.”

“Apologies.” Eyestalks inclining down and forward, one orb peered over each of the human’s shoulders. “How go the preparations for your next culinary extravaganza?”

“Pretty good. There are some new fresh fruits just arrived from Dmeruu-eeb, the realm that borders Kojn-umm to the south, and I’m thinking of doing something tropical and sunshiny with them.”

Braouk was not certain precisely what the human’s explanation signified, but it did not matter. His interest of the moment was not on food. “Marc, I am no less beholden to you for the merit your skills have gained for us among our hosts the Niyyuu than are George or Sque.”

“You’re welcome.” Walker murmured the response without turning away from his intent study of images of food and equipment that floated in the air before him.

“But we have been here for some goodly time now, and we are no closer to continuing on our way homeward than when we arrived.”

That made Walker turn away from his work. Behind him, images of foodstuffs and cooking gear hovered patiently in the air, awaiting his attention.

“That’s not really true, Braouk.” In their time together Walker had learned to focus on one Tuuqalian eye and ignore the other when they were being held far apart, as now. “We’ve secured the goodwill of our hosts and have successfully established ourselves in their society.”

“Our goal though, I must remind you, is leaving. Our aim is to move onward from this place, not to set up a home meadow or become infatuated with the local culture.”

Walker glanced to his left. George had raised his head from his pillow. “The hulk is right, Marc. I’ve been thinking the same thing: that we’re getting a little too comfortable here. Maybe that’s just what our good friends the Niyyuu want.” The dog’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you ought to spend a little more time looking for a way off this ball of dirt instead of drooling over the alien sylph you can’t have anyway.”

Walker stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, George.”

The dog let his head flump back down on the cushion. “Uh-huh. And some of my best friends are cats that spray in my face.”

Braouk’s eyestalks moved uncertainly. “What is George talking about?”

“Nothing,” Walker replied irritably. “He considers himself an expert on the behavior of everyone but himself.”

“Speaking of butts—” the dog began. Walker cut him off.

“I’m doing all that I can, Braouk. Every time I meet with a government official I mention that we’d like to speak to some astronomics specialists. Appointments are being set up, but nothing’s come of them yet. You know how the Niyyuu like their protocol.”

“They like your cooking,” George interjected curtly. “And they don’t want to lose it.”

Walker turned on his friend. “Come on, George. You’re not implying that the government is deliberately keeping us from meeting with those people?”

The dog stood up on the cushion. His tail was not wagging. “You’re right. I’m not implying it. I’m stating it. Think about it, Marc. We’ve been here how long? You and I and Braouk and Sque have initiated how many formal requests? What is there to keep local astronomics experts so busy? It’s not like the stars and nebulae that form the basis of their usual study are going to take a hike any time soon.”

Walker looked away, muttering, “I don’t believe it. The Niyyuu aren’t like that. They’ve been nothing if not helpful and courteous.”

George’s dog-logic was relentless. “Except when it comes to that one thing, that one particular request.” He glanced up at the looming mass of the Tuuqalian. “What about you, Braouk? Don’t you think it’s funny that the one kind of Niyyuuan specialists we can’t seem to make the acquaintance of are involved in astronomy?”

“It does seem odd.” A massive tentacle gently nudged Walker, pushing him back only a step or two. “We are all reasoning beings here, Marcus Walker. Does this avoidance, of one scientific type, seem deliberate?”

“One way to find out.” George growled softly at Walker. “Invite a whole slew of ’em to one of your special presentations. That’ll put your alien she-lollipop and her friends on the spot. They can’t claim
every
astronautics expert in this part of Niyu is swamped with work or out of the realm at the same time.”

Walker considered. There was nothing wrong with the dog’s idea. And it might settle the argument, one way or the other, once and for all.

“I’ll do it.” He sat back down at his console. “I’ll put the request to Abrid-lon personally.”

George was initially subdued when that official readily agreed to Walker’s request to organize such a meal. The dog further had to eat his words when, one ten-day later, the event actually took place. Prepared for the main scientific society of all Kojn-umm, the event was not overlooked by the avaricious local media, so there could be no claim that researchers and workers in specific specialties failed to be made aware of it.

Among the delighted attendees were more than a dozen specialists in the fields of general astronomy and astronautics. The latter included officers of Niyyuuan starships, prominent among whom were the commander and assistant commander of the very ship that had brought Walker and his friends to Niyu from Seremathenn. Certainly those in attendance were reflective of those Niyyuu with the most wide-ranging knowledge of this corner of the galaxy.

But as George wandered casually through the attentive, seated group of scientists and researchers—Sque being deemed too acerbic and Braouk too intimidating to assure suitably uninhibited responses—he was met by one denial or evasion after another.

“Nobody knows nothing—or will admit to it.” The dog’s disappointment as he reported to his companions following the conclusion of the performance and meal was plain to see.

“Are you certain you put forth the queries properly?” The continuous movement of Sque’s tendrils revealed her agitation.

George eyed her sharply. “I asked them as we rehearsed them. ‘Have you ever had contact with any of the following worlds?’ I’d say, and then name each of ours in turn. The response was always negative. ‘Have you ever had contact with anyone else, of any intelligent species, that might possibly have had contact with any of the three worlds in question?’ Same reaction. ‘Prior to this evening, have any of you ever encountered
representatives
of any sentient species matching our descriptions, or encountered others who might have done so?’ More of the same. None of them, or at least none of those present here tonight, have ever heard of humans and their Earth, Tuuqalians and their world, K’eremu and K’erem.” He shifted his feet, his tail moving slowly.

“I asked if there might be other, more knowledgeable astronomers or galactic travelers elsewhere on Niyu who might be better informed on such matters. I was told that while the independent realms of Niyu engage in healthy intergovernmental conflict where matters of culture and commerce are concerned, when it comes to dealing with the rest of galactic civilization they act as one. Furthermore, science is as advanced here in Kojn-umm as anywhere on Niyu, as evidenced by the expedition to Seremathenn that brought us here.”

“A reasonable assertion,” the thoughtful Sque declared somberly, “that in lieu of further evidence I see no reason to dispute.”

The dog moved closer to the K’eremu—close enough to reach out with a paw and touch the slightly swelling, slick maroon skin. “That’s not what disturbs me, though. It was the lack of curiosity.” Backing off, he eyed his three companions meaningfully. “You’d think that a bunch of supposedly inquisitive scientific types would be more than casually interested in four previously unencountered intelligences claiming to hail from three utterly unknown worlds. But whenever I found a chance to push the matter with an individual, every one of them without exception seemed more interested in changing the subject, or talking about Marc’s food presentation, or the latest fighting at Jalar-aad-biidh, than in wondering about what part of the galactic arm we might have sprung from.” He cocked his head slightly to one side. “Strikes me as mighty peculiar.”

“Most assuredly unscientific in spirit,” an intrigued Sque readily agreed. “As if those to whom you spoke sought to deliberately avoid pursuing the subject.”

Braouk was openly bewildered. “But why avoid, a subject of interest, to all?”

“Maybe,” George suggested, squinting beneath shaggy brows, “because they were told to.”

The Tuuqalian’s bemusement only deepened. Both eyes, which together were nearly as large as George himself, inclined downward on their stalks to regard the dog. “Are you suggesting, that such avowed ignorance, was deliberate?”

“All I’m saying,” George responded as he turned to leave, “is that for a bunch of sentients whose business it is to ask questions in the pursuit of the furtherance of knowledge, they were a mighty closemouthed bunch.”

“Why wouldn’t they be interested in trying to find out where we all come from?” Walker wondered aloud.

“Maybe,” George added over a shoulder as he trotted away, “because someone is worried that if we find that out, we’ll want to go back there.”

The three companions were left to stare at the dog’s metronomic tail until it vanished out of sight around a corner. It was silent for a long minute before Walker finally spoke up.

“Surely,” he murmured uneasily, “I’m not
that
good a cook.”

“Novelties,” Sque muttered through her slender, weaving speaking tube. “We are all of us novelties.” Steel-gray eyes regarded him expressively. “Possessed of no intrinsic value, such as precious metals or gems, a novelty’s worth is determined solely by those for whom it has applied value. It may be that your small smelly friend demonstrates true insight. Certainly it cannot be denied that our constant requests have been met with apathy, if not outright unconcern. Tonight’s continuance of that condition suggests nothing less than a deliberate policy.”

Walker shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe that the Niyyuu intend to keep us from leaving here.”

“Nothing is preventing us from leaving here,” Sque pointed out as she too turned to retire to her own quarters. “There is simply no help forthcoming in assisting us in determining which way to go when we do leave. And without direction, there is no point in going. One might as well spin on one’s appendages until dizzy and scuttle off in any random direction. In deep space, that would be suicidal. The withholding of information is not the same as the withholding of a physicality, but the result is the same.”

The departure of the K’eremu left Walker alone with Braouk. After a moment the Tuuqalian too moved to withdraw to his chamber. “It’s worth thinking, about what’s been said, here tonight. Indifference is not hostility—but not friendship, either.”