“It looks superb,” she breathed. “It must be awfully heavy.”
Paranak dropped both his hands down emphatically.
“This is what you would have used in your war for the mineral rights on Trad?”
“I have recreated Laa-karvak exactly as it was, apart from the nicks in the blade, when the Kontar returned it to our planet after their victory over our four thousand and ninety six. It is not the most famous of our swords, but it is the one I had desired to fight with.”
Fodder-maker, good name! Kirrina noticed Batamon’s mental urging to move on, but she resisted. This was partly because she knew that in human tradition the bride was always late, and she wanted to give Richard that element of the experience as he had dreamed it, but it was also because she knew that Paranak was struggling to relate this very human ceremony to values that he could respect, and she sensed somehow that she needed to let him explain this to her in order for it to work in his own mind. “And why do you wear it on this occasion?”
Paranak reached up suddenly with both hands and pulled the sword away from his body. The clips pinged as they snapped back, releasing the blade.
Kirrina imagined the molecules of nitrogen and oxygen being split asunder, unable to part quickly enough around the blade as it flashed through the air, and the sound was like the shriek of a whip just before it cracked across a prisoner’s back. She felt the skin on her shoulder-blades tingle.
“If a warrior should challenge your decision to unite your strength with Richard’s this day, he will have to prove his argument against your Protector, and Laa-karvak.”
The sword passed by her again, and she felt the wind from it rustle her skirts. Kirrina struggled to keep her heart rate down as his swift and startling movements caught her off-guard. She reached out to touch the blade as it hovered before her.
“Don’t.” Paranak swung the sword away and let it rotate in his hands until the blade was high over his head. Then he gently brought it down, and the table came apart as if it had been sliced with a laser rifle. “It would be a shame to get that disgusting red blood of yours on your white coverings.”
Kirrina giggled a little nervously and watched with a compulsion almost as powerful as those her own mind could induce, while Paranak returned his sword to its ceremonial position. The clips snapped shut again automatically.
“I designed those especially.” The Narlav had noted (with considerable satisfaction) her intense scrutiny. “On Trad, the clips just fall off; they would never be needed again, once the battle began.”
“Thank you.” Kirrina sighed. “I feel very safe now.” Now that you have stopped doing that! I won’t be giving you a hug after the ceremony, either! “Shall we go?” She took each of her companions by the hand and stepped lightly towards the ceremonial room.
***
Richard fidgeted, constantly checking that his white robe was hanging correctly, although in truth no such action was necessary. He took another look towards the entrance of the large and imposing auditorium from his assigned spot on the raised platform at its centre, determining that the light grey double doors were still firmly closed, and then turned to the tall, stately lady beside him. “Why is the entire room built of the same material as our Citadel-Patrol Craft and your Patrol Cruisers? It is, isn’t it?”
“And it is completely opaque to our thoughts, too.” Lochelle nodded and smiled at his discomfort with the waiting process, and his method of dealing with it. “But you will also notice that it has not been activated, so its full strength has not been confirmed. The truth is that it is partly decorative. The idea was conceived when the first of the ‘new Arshonnans’ started discovering their talent for touching the minds of others. The unempowered were afraid, at first, so when the development of this substance was completed, many public places were constructed of it to demonstrate that there was nothing to fear and that our powers were not unlimited. Now, of course, that fear has mostly been forgotten. There are not as many empowered persons as we enthusiastically predicted there would be by now, partly because many of the first and second generation were lost when the ‘Vershonnan’ attacked, so the net effect is only that those of us who wish to touch our friends are prevented from so doing, as you are now as you try to reach your Kirrina, outside.”
She put her arm around him, as an aunt might do, her hand settling against his bare arm, at the elbow, where his robes ended. A brief vision of her frustrated fight against prejudice and her eventual tactical retreat into relative obscurity came quickly into his mind – a message quite different from her spoken one.
“Is that why,” the young bridegroom looked around, and realised that the others gathered in the chamber would be able to hear his words – so he continued at a much lower volume: “Why Vochan was chosen to command Scout Craft Seven?”
“Yes.” Lochelle patted him on the elbow and stood back a little, though her volume was even lower than his. “Though none of us realised he was as unstable as the log has shown him to be. If we had, we would never have allowed this concession to our unempowered leaders. This knowledge will be saved and used as a bargaining tool, if circumstances warrant.”
Richard glanced into her vivid blue eyes, awed by her careful consideration, and her balancing of the needs and wants of her gifted relations against the future of her entire people. “You would make a great politician on Earth!”
“Oh, and I understand that you meant that as a compliment, though many of your nation on Earth would never appreciate it as such.”
Richard grinned affirmatively. “There is much that is bad about Earth, but still, it was my home until just six months ago. I see a hint of the same problems here, though they do appear less extreme.”
Lochelle’s slight smile told Richard that she was well aware of the similarities, though she chose not to vocalise her opinion. Here she comes now! She directed the thought at him as the doors swung slowly open, and he was amazed at how easily he could ‘read’ her.
Richard turned to face the entrance, and waited nervously for the first glimpse of his fiancée as her mental presence touched his mind again. A most extraordinary couple entered first, however, and Richard’s eyes flew wide open as he observed the incongruous pair. There was one, slim and regal in his purple robes, his hair almost as bright as Kirrina’s under the powerful lamps that lined the procession route, his posture one of grace and pride, and beside him, the same height but seemingly twice the width, the squat bulk of the Narlav warrior, green tinge to his greyness, his oversized sword glinting darkly, the ruby-like stones in the impossibly thick handle glinting like eyes illuminated by firelight, his legs bending with that strangely avian knee structure, and moving far more rapidly than Batamon’s due to their extreme shortness.
Your friend Paranak continues to make an impression not easily forgotten. Perhaps in time the unempowered will learn to look beyond his alien features and find the honourable friend you have found, as I and Batamon and these others here have done. Lochelle watched the procession begin to approach the central spot where they were standing.
But you doubt it. Richard sensed her uncertainty easily enough.
No – I think most will, but there will always be some that refuse to look beyond the cold facts of his ancestry, once they are revealed.
Paranak and Batamon had reached the raised platform now, and they stepped aside to allow Kirrina through. Richard saw her for the first time, and his surprise at her costume was only equalled by his pleasure at seeing her as he had unconsciously imagined she would look.
As she stepped up on the raised portion, her gloriously white dress shimmering in the brightness of the redirected sunlight beneath the dome of the chamber, he took her hands in his and stared deep into her blue eyes. At once the mental blocks that they had both set up to carry them through their journeyings dissolved into nothingness, and the room seemed to dim as all else shrank into insignificance. Richard felt his awareness focus on Kirrina, her dreams and ideals, her plans and hopes, he
r beliefs and her faith in their future, which they were just starting together, after months of planning and wishing.
“I ask those assembled to join with me in solemn contemplation of this proposed union,” Lochelle began, her voice but dimly heard by the two who were the centre of the ceremony. “As has been the way of all who are so privileged, since the earliest days of our existence, we must unanimously agree to this deepest form of mind merge; there must be no hint of uncertainty. We beg the indulgence of our differently gifted friends; this is an essential prerequisite to a union of mind and body, where nothing is kept back.” Lochelle closed her eyes and the stillness of the room seemed to soak into her, until she, too, was totally immobile.
Kirrina felt her hands go numb as her senses turned inward. She recalled Richard’s earlier mind merges with her, and was pleasantly surprised to find that now she could sense even deeper parts of his psyche, though the contact was lacking in definition. She found subtle adjustments being made, as parts of the consciousness that was Richard seemed to sink more deeply into her being, and parts of her more hidden and private self seemed to find niches in his unconscious mind that were more comfortable than their original locations in hers.
***
After a timeless period, Kirrina’s mind become aware once more of those around her, the forty or fifty present: composed of several generations of empowered ones who were related in varying degrees of closeness to her parents and to Richard’s uncountedly great-aunt Lochelle, older sister of Gartnal, who had been the senior Scout on Scout Craft Seven’s ill-fated first mission. The relatively inscrutable Paranak, that previously she found challenging to discern, she now could read quite deeply, despite the lack of physical contact which before she had needed to do more than just touch the shallows of his mind. She wondered at the serenity evident in his thoughts; she had never before sensed in him such an atmosphere of peace or calm as he now unconsciously portrayed.
Then she realised that Richard was present, also, in the new consciousness she had attained, and that together they could sense the approval, reservoir of concern and willingness to assist, which emanated from their empowered peers. She opened her eyes to find that Richard was opening his, too.
They released each other’s hands reluctantly, and felt their consciousness separate out once more. Somehow the gap between them did not seem as great as it had been before the ceremony, a fact that thrilled them both, as they realised their wishes were finally starting to be fulfilled.
Batamon stepped up and hugged Kirrina. “You are so much like her.” His eyes seemed to see his sister, as she was when they had been children together, long before she left Arshonna. “So many hundreds of years…”
Kirrina felt another emotional sense of duality, as she touched her uncle’s memories of her own mother.
Batamon broke away and turned to Richard. “I knew you could do it,” he said simply, his eyes glistening.
Richard found himself in a powerful hug, and felt the acceptance and care of his new uncle wash over him, providing another dimension to the highs of this special day.
“You have started a new life today.” Lochelle took Kirrina’s hands in hers. “You may find now that at the times when you must be away from your Richard that you will feel less than you were, but remember that together you will always be much, much more.”
“I know.” Kirrina looked up into the much older woman’s eyes while she savoured the last traces of the intensely peaceful and loving unification of thoughts from so many minds, tuned to one purpose.
Richard glanced around as the special guests drifted silently from the chamber until only the five of them remained. He turned to Paranak, who stood as he had since his arrival, like some frozen image or wax-work of himself. “What did you see, my good friend?”
“I’m not sure.” Paranak’s normally gruff voice seemed muffled somehow by the considerable volume of the ceremonial vault. “There was something all around you; almost as if you were not really here anymore, but there was only a holographic image remaining.” His arms did their characteristic downward sweep. “I believe I shall never forget this day, though it is impossible to find the words to express quite why.”
Richard swung one arm back as far as he could and gave his Narlav friend the best blow to the head that he had ever managed. As he lowered his stinging hand to his side, he watched Paranak’s expression, and realised his actions had been sufficient; there was no need of any further words.
Kirrina stepped down, as one with Richard, because she felt the same unfathomable signal to depart, and together they walked from the nearly empty room.
Batamon spoke aloud for Paranak’s benefit, as the happy couple disappeared through the doorway. “Well, Lochelle, I had not seen such a beautiful manifestation of unity since, oh, many years ago. Now at last they can experience serenity.”
“Yes, it is true,” she agreed. “But perhaps in his untutored approach, Paranak has said something I almost missed, or wished I could have.”
Batamon nodded. “They will not be here for long.” He turned to the Narlav. “And I think somehow that they will still depend on you, once the time for their departure comes.”
Paranak merely touched the hilt of his massive sword, as he spoke five words with a certainty typical of absolute Narlav self-confidence:
“I will always be ready.”
Epilogue
Varshak, Commander of the only successful reconnaissance mission to return thus far to Rhaal[7], and therefore the triumphant discoverer of the only, and therefore indisputably best, option for relocating his home planet’s remaining Narlav population, paused as he neared the front entrance of the massive, bullet-shaped structure. From the outside it still appeared supremely impressive, stretching 160 metres up into the smog-laden sky and 800 metres back towards the deep red sunset – a symbol of Narlav might and superiority. A mighty Warrnam.
Appearances can be deceptive though.
The lone warrior had returned about three Earth months earlier, and had found none of the other Warrnam had made it back yet. This was not surprising, as they had all been given a time-limited period for their search, and each had been assigned a specific sector of the Galaxy to check – though they would be able to go to only the most likely of stars in their sector in that time. Even if each crew checked fifty star systems before returning to Rhaal, they would barely have covered a hundredth of the most favoured options – as chosen by the human astronomic technicians of Rhaal – before their time was over.
If the Shaatak can be trusted.
Varshak was the only survivor of the audacious attack by the handful of humans whom he had kidnapped – previously much-scorned by him – though these Earth-humans had proven to be… unpredictable. Harnak had died from a self-inflicted laser wound during the confusion of the otherwise ineffectual attempt by those humans to use artificial gravity as a weapon. Varshak had concluded that the humans must have installed an Inducer beside the airlock of the utility module and created a horizontal localised gravity field within it. These Earth-humans were the ones whom he had ordered – and self-assuredly assumed and anticipated – to be submissively developing an anti-personnel weapon. The directive was to find a means to reduce their own planet’s population to a more manageable ten per cent of the current number, without damaging the planet significantly. He could not (previously) have conceived of them revolting and causing significant damage to his prized command.
Despite having thwarted them in their attempt, he had found it very challenging to handle the huge Warrnam ‘solo’ and return it to his home planet, as he had previously left many of the tasks intrinsic to navigating and operating the aging, and somewhat erratic, but still incredibly potent, vessel to his second-in-command. In addition to the normal tasks required to complete his mission, he had also been required to replace small sections of the exterior vacuum casing of his massive ship, and all the navigation and Drive control components damaged during the humans’ laser attack, tasks t
hat he would normally have made his human slave perform.
Recalling how to do this had taken time (theoretically all Warrnam crew where supposed to have a comprehensive knowledge of relevant space technology, but few did, preferring to use their own slaves to do this menial work) and he had barely finished when incredibly, those same humans had found his stubby needle-like craft in the far more than huge haystack of the Martian sandstorm and had attempted a further attack. This time, though, he had been ready for them, and the Shell Fields had formed on his command and held against the comparatively feeble onslaught.
When he had landed, almost two weeks later, in the landing field nearest to where his clan lived, his first action had been to have the panels of Hybralloy replaced, the ones that had been hit in that brief moment before the Shells had firmed up, even though the damage was a reduction in thickness of less than point five percent. It was as if he wanted all the evidence of his mistakes erased, as if that would help him to be as confident as he had previously been, that the humans of this distant planet called ‘Earth’ would be easily beaten, even though they numbered a far greater force than the increasingly inhospitable Rhaal could provide. My invention will bring those numbers down to a more reasonable ratio – one that will allow us to show that one Narlav is worth more than sens[8] of humans – still a worthy, Warrior victory, but not one that will lay waste to the planet before we take possession of it!
Standing outside his fully restored and truly magnificent Warrnam earlier that day, Varshak had rehearsed to himself that to delay a battle was a sign of fear. Narlavs do not fear, so, now that twelve of the ‘Space Hammers’ had returned one by one – without success – over the preceding ninety Earth days, the waiting had become intolerable, and he had decided to approach the Council.
Passage Page 47
