The Colors of Space

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The low rainbow building of Eight Colors, near the spaceport of ProcyonAlpha, had not changed; and when Bart went in, as he had done a yearago, it seemed that the same varnished girl was sitting before the sameglass desk, neon-edged and brittle, with the same chrome-tinged hair andblue fingernails. She looked at Bart in his Lhari clothing, at Meta inher Mentorian robe and cloak, at Ringg, and her unruffled dignity didnot turn a hair.

  "May I help you?" she inquired, still not caring.

  "I want to see Raynor One."

  "On what business, please?"

  "Tell him," said Bart, with immense satisfaction, "that his boss ishere--Bart Steele--and wants to see him right away."

  It had a sort of disrupting effect. She seemed to go blurred at theedges. After a minute, blinking carefully, she spoke into thevision-screen, and reported, numbly, "Go on up, Mr. Steele."

  He wasn't expecting a welcome. He said so as the elevator rose. "Afterall, if I'd never come back, he'd doubtless have inherited the wholeEight Colors line, unencumbered. I don't expect he'll be happy to seeme. But he's the only one I can turn to."

  The elevator stopped, opened. They stepped out, and a man steppednervously toward them. For a moment, expecting Raynor One, Bart wasdeceived; then as the man's face spread in a smile of welcome, hestopped in incredulous delight.

  "Raynor Three!"

  In overflowing gladness, Bart hugged him. It was like a meeting with thedead. He felt as if he had really come home. "But--but you remember me!"he exclaimed, backing away, in amazement.

  Slowly, the man nodded. His eyes were grave. "Yes. I decided it wasn'tworth it, Bart, to go on losing everything that meant anything to me.Even if it meant I had to give up the stars, never travel again exceptas a passenger, I couldn't go on being afraid to remember, never knowingthe consequences or responsibilities of what I'd done." His sad smilewas strangely beautiful. "The _Multiphase_ sailed without me. I've beenhere, hoping against hope that someday I'd know the rest."

  Associations clicked into place in Bart's mind. The _Multiphase_. SoRaynor Three was the Mentorian who had smuggled David Briscoe off theship, and whose memories, wrung out by the Lhari captain of that ship,had touched off so many deaths. But he had paid for that--paid manytimes over. And now must he pay for this, too?

  Raynor One strode toward them. "So it's really you. I thought it mightbe a trap, but Three wouldn't listen. Word came from Antares thatMontano had been arrested and his ship confiscated for illegal landingon Lharillis. I thought you were probably dead."

  "We sent a boy to do a man's job," Raynor Three said, "and he came backa man. But tell me--" He looked curiously at Ringg and Meta.

  Bart introduced them, adding, "I came for help, really. I'm facingcharges, and I'm afraid you are, too."

  Raynor One said harshly, "A trap, after all, Three! He trapped you, andhe's led the Lhari to you!"

  "No," Raynor Three said, "or he wouldn't be walking around free andunguarded and with all his memories intact. Tell me about it, Bart." Andwhen Bart had given a quick narration of the Lhari judgment, he nodded,slowly.

  "That's all we ever wanted. Don't think you failed, Bart. The horriblepart was only the way they were trying to keep it secret."

  Ringg interrupted, "Do not judge the Lhari by them, Raynor Three," andRaynor Three said in good Lhari, "I don't, feathertop. Raynors have beenworking with Lhari since the days of Rhazon of Nedrus. But I wanted anopen, official statement of Lhari policy--not secret murders byfanatics. I had confidence in the Lhari as a people, but not inindividuals. What good did it do to know that the Lhari council inanother galaxy would have condemned the murders and manhunts, when theywere going on in this one, day after day?

  "Don't you see, Bart?" he continued, "you didn't fail--not if we'regoing to have the publicity of a test case, publicly heard. That meansthe Lhari are prepared to admit, before our whole galaxy, that humans_can_ survive warp-drive without cold-sleep. That's all David Briscoewas trying to prove, or your father either--may they rest in peace. So,whatever happens, we've won."

  "If you two idealists will give me a minute for cold realities," RaynorOne said, "there's this. Among other things. Bart's not yet of legalage. You may not know this, Bart, but your father appointed me yourlegal guardian. When I turned you over to Three, I'm afraid, I assumedlegal responsibility for all the consequences. I ought to have kept youunder my own supervision."

  Bart smiled at Raynor One's stern face. "I crossed two galaxies, andfaced the Lhari High Council, without you to hold my hand. I can facethe Trade Federation."

  "Naturally I will be responsible for your defense," Raynor One saidstiffly.

  "But I don't need a defense," Bart said, turning to Raynor Three andmeeting his eyes. "I'm going to tell the truth, and let it stand. Don'tworry, I'll make sure they don't hold you responsible for my actions."

  "Another thing. Some lunatic from Capella arrived here and all butaccused me of having you murdered. Do you know a Tommy Kendron?"

  "Do I _know_ him!" Bart interrupted with a joyful yell. "Tommy's _here_?Quick--where do I get in touch with him?"

  An hour later they were all gathered at Raynor Three's country house.The talk went on far into the night. Tommy wanted to know everything,and both Raynors wanted to know every detail of Bart's year among theLhari, while Meta and Ringg were both curious about how it had begun.

  Bart tried to forget that the next day might bring trouble, evenimprisonment. The Lhari Council had told him to talk as much as he likedabout his voyage, and this might be his only chance. When he hadfinished, Tommy leaned forward and gripped Bart's hand tightly.

  "You make them sound like pretty decent people," he said, looking atRingg. "A year ago, if you'd told me I'd be here with a Lhari spacemanand a bunch of Mentorians, I'd never have believed it."

  "Nor I, that I would be as friend under a human roof," Ringg replied."But a friend to Bart is my friend also." He touched the faintdiscolored scars on his brow, saying softly, "But for Bart, I would notbe here to greet anyone, man or Lhari, as friend."

  "So," said Tommy triumphantly, "you haven't failed, even if you didn'tdiscover the secret of the Eighth Color--"

  But a sudden, blinding light burst over Bart as Ringg moved his hand tothe scars. Once again he searched a cave beneath a green star, whereRingg lay unconscious and bleeding, and played his Lhari light fearfullyover a waterfall of colored minerals. _And there was one whose color hecould not identify--red, blue, violet, green, none of these_--the colorof an unknown star in an unknown galaxy, the shimmer of a landing Lhariship, the color of an unknown element in an unknown fuel--

  "The secret of the Eighth Color," he said, and stood up, his handsliterally shaking in excitement. "I'm an _idiot_! No, don't ask me anyquestions! I could still be wrong. But even if I go to a prison planet,the Eighth Color isn't a secret any more!"

  When the others had gone back to the city, he sat with Raynor Three inthe room where the latter had told him of his father's death, where hehad first seen his terrifying Lhari face. They spoke little, but RaynorThree finally asked, "Were you serious about not wanting a defense,Bart?"

  "I was. All I want is a chance to tell my own story in my own way. Whereeveryone will hear me."

  Raynor Three looked at him curiously. "There's something you're nottelling, Bart. Want to tell me?"

  Bart hesitated, then held out his hand and clasped his kinsman's."Thanks--but no."

  Raynor Three saw his hesitation and chuckled. "All right, son. Forget Iasked. You've grown up."

  It was good to sleep in a soft human-type bed again, to eat breakfastand shave and dress in ordinary human clothing again. But Bart foldedhis Lhari tights and the cloak tenderly, with regret. They were thememory of an experience no one else would ever have.

  Raynor Three let him take the controls as they flew back to thespaceport city; and a little before noon they entered the great crystalpylon that was the headquarters of the Federation Trade Bureau onProcyon Alpha. Men and
Lhari were moving in the lobby; among them Bartsaw Vorongil, Meta at his side. He smiled at her, received a wan smilein return.

  Would Vorongil feel that Bart had deceived him, betrayed him, when heheard Bart today?

  In the hearing room, four white-crested Lhari sat across from fourdignified, well-dressed men, representatives of the Federation ofIntergalactic Trade. The space beyond was wholly filled with people,crowded together, and carrying stereo cameras, intercom equipment, thecreepie-peepie of the on-the-spot space commentator.

  "Mr. Steele, we had hoped to make this a quiet hearing, without unduepublicity. But we cannot deny the news media the privilege of coveringit, unless you wish to claim the right to privacy."

  "No, indeed," Bart said clearly. "I want them all to hear what I'm goingto say."

  Raynor One came up to the bench. "Bart, as your guardian, I adviseagainst it. Some people will call this a publicity stunt. It won't doEight Colors any good to admit that men have been spying on the Lhari--"

  "I want press coverage," Bart repeated stubbornly, "and as manystar-systems on the relay as possible."

  "All right. But I wash my hands of it," Raynor One said angrily.

  Bart told his story simply: his meeting with the elder Briscoe, hismeeting with Raynor One--carefully not implicating Raynor One in theplot--Raynor Three's work in altering his appearance to that of a Lhari,and the major events of his cruise on the _Swiftwing_. When he came tothe account of the shift into warp-drive, he saw the faces of the pressreporters, and realized that for them this was the story of the year--orcentury: _humans can endure star-drive!_ But he went on, notsoft-pedaling Montano's attempted murder, his own choice, the trip tothe Lhari world--

  One of the board representatives interrupted testily, "What is the pointof this lengthy narrative? You can give the story to the newsmen withoutour official sanction, if you want to make it a heroic epic, youngSteele. We have heard sufficient to prove your guilt, and that ofRaynor, in the violation of treaty--"

  "Nevertheless, I want this official," Bart said. "I don't want to bemobbed when they hear that I have the secret of the star-drive."

  The effect was electric. The four Lhari sat up; their white creststwitched. Vorongil stared, his gray eyes darkening with fear. One of theLhari leaned forward, shooting the question at him harshly.

  "You did _not_ discover the coordinates of the Council Planet of KeLhiro! You did not discover--"

  "I did not," Bart said quietly. "I don't know them and I have nointention of trying to find them. We don't need to go to the LhariGalaxy to find the mineral that generates the warp-frequencies, thatthey call 'Catalyst A' and that the Mentorians call the 'Eighth Color.'There is a green star called Meristem, and a spectroscopic analysis ofthat star, I'm sure, will reveal what unknown elements it contains, andperhaps locate other stars with that element. There must be others inour galaxy, but the coordinates of the star Meristem are known to me."

  Vorongil was staring at him, his mouth open. He leaped up and cried out,shaking, "But they assured us that among your memories--there wasnothing of danger to us--"

  Compassionately, gently, Bart said, "There wasn't--not that they knewabout, Vorongil. I didn't realize it myself. I might never haveremembered seeing a mineral that was of a color not found in thespectrum. Certainly, a memory like that meant nothing to the Lharimedics who emptied out my mind and turned over all my thoughts. YouLhari can't see color at all.

  "So no one but I saw the color of the mineral in the cave; you Lhariyourselves don't _know_ that your fuel looks unlike anything else in theuniverse. You never cared to find out how your world looked to yourMentorians. So your medics never questioned my memories of an eighthcolor. To you, it's just another shade of gray, but under a light strongenough to blind any but Mentorian eyes, it takes on a special color--"

  The conference broke up in disorder, the four Lhari clustering togetherin a furious babble, then hastily leaving the room. Bart stood waiting,feeling empty and cold. Vorongil's stare baffled him with unreadableemotion.

  "You fool, you unspeakable young idiot!" Raynor One groaned. "Why didyou blurt it out like that before every news media in the galaxy? Why,we could have had a monopoly on the star-drive--Eight Colors and VegaInterplanet!" As he saw the men of the press approaching with theirmicrophones, lights, cameras and TV equipment, he gripped Bart urgentlyby the arm.

  "We can still salvage something! Don't talk any more! Refer them tome--say I'm your guardian and your business manager--you can still makesomething of this--"

  "That's just what I don't want to do," Bart replied, and broke away fromhim to approach the newsmen.

  "Yes, certainly, I'll answer all your questions, gentlemen."

  Raynor One flung up his hands in despair, but over their shoulder he sawthe glowing face of Meta, and smiled. She, at least, would understand.So would Raynor Three.

  A page boy touched Bart on the arm. "Mr. Steele," he said, "you are toappear immediately before the World Council!"

  He was to be asked one question again and again in the days thatfollowed, but his real answer was to Meta and Raynor Three, lookingquietly past Raynor One and speaking to the news cameras that wouldcarry his words all over the galaxy to men and Lhari:

  "Why didn't I keep it for myself? Because there are always men likeMontano, who in their mistaken pride will murder and steal for suchthings. I want this knowledge to be open to all men, to be used fortheir benefit. There has been too much secrecy already. I want all mento have the stars."

  He had to tell his story again and again to the hastily summonedrepresentatives of the Galactic Federation. At one point the delegatefrom his home star of Vega actually rose and shouted to him, "This istreason! You betrayed your home world--and the whole human race! Don'tyou know the Lhari may fight a war over this?"

  Bart remembered Vorongil's silent, sad confession of the Lhari fears.

  "No," he said gently. "No. There won't be any war unless we start one.The Lhari won't start any war. Believe me."

  But inwardly, he sweated. What _would_ the Lhari do?

  They had to wait for representatives of the Lhari Council to make thejourney from their home galaxy; meanwhile they kept Bart in protectivecustody. There was, of course, no question of sending him to a "prisonplanet"; public opinion would have crucified any government thatsuggested punishment for the man who had discovered a human world withdeposits of Catalyst A. Bart could claim an "explorer's share," andRaynor One had lost no time in filing that claim on his behalf.

  But he was lonely and anxious. They had confined him to a set of roomshigh in the building overlooking the spaceport; from the balcony hecould see the ships landing and departing. Life went on, ships came andwent, and out there in the vast night of space, the suns and colorsflamed and rolled, heedless of the little atoms that traveled andintrigued between them.

  A night came when the buzzer sounded and he opened the door to RaynorOne and Raynor Three.

  "Better turn on your vision-screen, Bart. The Elder of the Lhari Councilhas arrived with their official decision, and he's going to announceit."

  Bart waited, anxiously, pacing the room, while on the TV screen variousdignitaries presented the Elder.

  "We are the first race to travel the stars." A bald head, an ancientLhari face seamed like glazed pottery, looked at Bart from the screen,and Bart remembered when he had stood before that face, sick withdefeat. But now he need not pretend to hold his head erect.

  "We have had a long and triumphant time as masters of the stars," theLhari said. "But triumph and power will sicken and stagnate the racewhich holds them too long unchallenged. We reached this point oncebefore. Then a Lhari captain, Rhazon of Nedrun, abandoned the safe waysof caution, and out of his blind leap in the blind dark came many goodthings. Trade with the human race. Our Mentorian allies. A system ofmathematics to take the hazards from our star-travel.

  "Yet once again the Lhari had grown cautious and fearful. And a youngman named Bartol took a blind leap into unknown darkness,
all alone--"

  "Not alone," Bart said as if to himself, "it took two men calledBriscoe. And my father. And a couple of Raynors. And even a man calledMontano, because without that, I'd never have decided--"

  "Like Rhazon of Nedrun, like all pioneers, this young man has beencursed by his own people, the very ones who will one day benefit fromhis daring. He has found his people a firm footing among the stars. Itis too late for the Lhari to regret that we did not sooner extend youthe hand of welcome there. You have climbed, unaided, to join us. Forgood or ill, we must make room for you.

  "But there is room for all. Competition is the lifeblood of trade, andwe face the future without fear, knowing that life still holds manysurprises for the living. I say to you: welcome to the stars."

  Even while Bart stood speechless with the knowledge of success, the dooropened again, and Bart, turning, cried out in amazement.

  "Tommy! Ringg! Meta!"

  "Sure," Tommy exclaimed, "we've got to celebrate," but Bart stopped,looking past them.

  "Captain Vorongil!" he said, and went to greet the old Lhari. "I thoughtyou'd hate me, _rieko mori_." The term of respect fell naturally fromhis lips.

  "I did, for a time," Vorongil said quietly. "But I remembered the day westood on Lharillis, by the monument. And that you risked--perhaps yourlife, certainly your eyesight--to save us from death. So when the Elderasked for my estimate of your people, I gave it."

  "I thought it sounded like you." Bart felt that his happiness wascomplete.

  "And now," Ringg cried, "let's celebrate! Meta, you haven't even toldhim that he's free!"

  But while the party got rolling, Bart wondered--free for what? Andafter a little while he went out on the balcony and stood lookingdown at the spaceport, where the _Swiftwing_ lay in shadow, huge,beloved--renounced.

  "What now, Bartol?" Vorongil's quiet voice asked from his elbow. "You'refamous--notorious. You're going to be rich, and a celebrity."

  "I was wishing I could get away until the excitement dies down."

  "Well," said Vorongil, "why don't you? The _Swiftwing_ ships outtonight, Bartol--for Antares and beyond. It will be a couple of yearsbefore your Eight Colors can be made over into an Interstellar line--andas Raynor One has said to me several times, he'll have to handle allthose details, for you're not of age yet.

  "I've been thinking. Now that we Lhari must share space with yourpeople, you'll need experienced men for your ships. Unless we all wantthe disasters born of trial and error, we Lhari had better help youtrain your men quickly and well. I want you to go back on the_Swiftwing_ with me. Not an apprentice, but representative of EightColors, to act as liaison between men and Lhari--at least until your ownaffairs claim your attention."

  Behind them on the balcony, Tommy appeared, making signals to Bart: "Sayyes! Say yes, Bart! _I_ did!"

  Bart's eyes suddenly filled. Out of defeat he had won success beyond hisgreatest hopes. But he did not feel all glad; he felt only a heavyresponsibility. Whether good or bad came of the gift he had snatchedfrom the stars, would rest in large measure on his own shoulders. He wasgoing back to space--to learn the responsibility that went with it.

  "I accept," he said gravely.

  "Oh, boy!" Tommy dragged Ringg into a sort of war dance of exuberantcelebration, pointing at the flaring glow of the spaceport gates. "Here,by grace of the Lhari, stands the doorway to all the stars," he quoted."Well, maybe you were here first. But look out--we're coming!"

  A doorway to the stars. Bart had crossed that doorway once, frightenedand alone. _Dad, if you could only know!_ The first interstellar ship ofEight Colors was to bear the name _Rupert Steele_, but that was years inthe future.

  Now, looking at the _Swiftwing_, at Ringg and Tommy, at Raynor Three andVorongil, who would all be his shipmates in the new world they werebuilding, he felt suddenly very lonely again.

  "Come in, Bart. It's your party," Meta said softly, and he felt her handlying in his. He looked down at the pretty Mentorian girl. She would bewith him, too. And suddenly he knew he would never be lonely again.

  His arm around Meta, his friends--man and Lhari--at his shoulder, hewent back to the celebration, to plan for the first intergalactic voyageto the stars.

  The End