“I am Ocellet Kim Quin,” she said, touching her chest. “These are my science adviser, Aylen,” she added with a gesture to the female on her left, “and Chief Commander Koro, representing our defense forces.” A nod to the male on her right—who, Li-Jared decided, was probably a little older than he was. High ranking, definitely. The Ocellet focused intensely on Li-Jared, her eyes ablaze. “I am told you have come asking for me. Come from . . . the stars, you say? From someplace not on this planet?”
Li-Jared bowed his head momentarily. “Yes, Ocellet Kim Quin. I have come from extremely far away.”
“Well, then, this is an extraordinary event for us!” she said, and her voice seemed to carry a genuine sense of awe about the occasion. “I hope this is something we can celebrate!” But there was a carefully guarded something else in her voice. “We have never had visitors from another world before. And to be honest, your arrival has left many of us in a state of . . . well, disbelief is probably not too strong a word.”
“I understand, Ocellet.”
“Yes. But our space command did track your arrival, so we must believe that. Also, at least one of you is clearly not Karellian.” Bandicut stirred, and she paused to eye him with a steely glint. “Is this one of the aliens you stated took you away from your home?”
Li-Jared started to reply, but Bandicut spoke first. “No, ma’am, I am not. I am a Human of planet Earth, and I am a fellow traveler with my friend Li-Jared. My story is somewhat similar to his.”
“I see,” said Quin. “I had not realized you would be able to speak for yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am—Madame Ocellet,” Bandicut said.
Quin gazed at him a moment longer, then shifted back to Li-Jared. “You say you are a Gamut Professor of mathematical physics, from a Karellia of almost three hundred years ago—and that you were, as we said, taken by aliens and then brought back. That is an extraordinary claim!”
Li-Jared bowed his head again. “Yes, those are my extraordinary claims, and they are quite true. You, I hope, will have found some record that can support my past claim. For my friends, I can offer as affidavit only my word—plus, of course, the evidence of their presence here. Ocellet Quin, this is a tremendously exciting homecoming for me! But I am afraid it is much more than that. To be direct, we have come with urgent matters to discuss. Far more urgent than the question of my heritage.”
“Indeed.” Quin glanced at Aylen, who was listening intently and muttering into a note-taking device, and her military chief, whose expression masked any visible emotion. “We will certainly hear you out on that. But as for your first claim, we do in fact have some records—perhaps more than our greeting party shared—of a professor by your name, from two hundred seventy-some years ago, whose picture looks strikingly like you.” She sighed out a breath. “Please. Won’t you all sit?”
As they settled into their places around the table, Li-Jared tilted his head. “Forgive me, but does the title ‘Ocellet’ mean you are leader of the entire planet?”
“You have been away a long time. The title ‘Ocellet’ has been in use for over one hundred years. It designates the elected leader of the five free continents.”
“Five free . . .” Li-Jared’s mind raced. “So . . . not the entire planet?” He flushed, hoping he hadn’t overstepped the bounds of courtesy. “Forgive me again. There was no worldwide government of any kind, in my time.”
The Ocellet allowed a small, hissing chuckle. “Of course. Also, there were turbulent times between then and now. A lot has changed.”
“I’m sure,” Li-Jared muttered, dying to know more. But now wasn’t the time.
“There are still a few regions holding out. But most of the population of Karellia regard me as their leader. Whether most of them approve or not is harder to say.” There was a momentary glimmer of humor in Quin’s eyes, but it was replaced at once by a steely gaze as she contemplated the company.
Li-Jared felt his two hearts swing momentarily out of sync. This was the person he needed to convince, then. It wasn’t going to be easy. Time to earn his pay. He managed to loosen his tongue and say, “Thank you, then, for seeing us . . . with so little warning.” A clicking chuckle escaped, unbidden.
Quin’s eyes brightened, narrowed. Her military representative, Koro, stirred. The science adviser looked intent, containing her obvious excitement. “Really,” Quin said, “can you imagine my not meeting with visitors from outer space, whatever the notice? But it seems we have a lot to talk about, including your story—where you have been, and why you are here now. But perhaps you could start by introducing your companions to me.” Her voice hardened as she gazed at the Uduon. “Because the information I received said that these two represent the world that has been attacking Karellia with asteroids.”
“Well . . . yes.” Li-Jared took a deep breath and began the introductions.
***
Ocellet Quin listened to every word, but her mind was afire. Not only was she meeting aliens from outer space for the first time, but she was facing her world’s mortal enemies, also for the first time. Far from being the bizarre aliens she had imagined in her nightmares, they looked just like her and her kinsmen. Put different clothes on them, and they could melt into any Karellian crowd. The one called Bandicut was an anomaly, not involved in the conflict. She mentally set him aside for the moment. He might be interesting later, but he was not part of the war.
Because war it was, whether they had ever met their adversary or not.
And now she was going to hear why these Uduon were attacking her world. “I may be honored to meet you,” she said bluntly, once the introductions were over, “but my people want to know why you are throwing rocks at our planet. Rocks large enough to cause untold damage and many deaths, if we allowed them to strike their targets.” She wasn’t going to tell them about the Karellian defenses that prevented that—and which Karellia fortunately had already put in place against a particular swarm of naturally falling asteroids.
The one called Akura, the Watcher, spoke through her translator, Sheeawn. “We only defend our world, Ocellet. When missiles from your planet exploded in our skies, killing many, we had no choice but to—”
Commander Koro interrupted her before Quin could stop him. “I am sorry, but what missiles are you referring to? We never launched missiles at your world, not until long after you began hostilities with your space rocks!”
No, not until the asteroids started falling, Quin thought. But after that . . .
Akura recoiled from the outburst, but if anything her demeanor hardened. “My words are true,” she said, “and I will show you.” She murmured to Sheeawn, who placed on the table a small holo projector. Through Sheeawn, she explained the moving images that sprang into the air: fiery objects streaking through the skies of Uduon, and the smoking ruins of a city. The images were stark and silent, and the effect was chilling. Quin studied them with mixed emotions: shock, horror, detachment. And doubt.
Akura continued. “We did not even know of your planet’s existence until this happened. But we have spacefaring capabilities of our own. We tracked those missiles that attacked us—right back to their points of origin. And that path led directly to this world!” The image of the destruction was replaced by an animated diagram of trajectories in space. Akura took a breath before concluding, “Do you wonder why my people call your world the demon planet? And so I ask: What causes you to rain death down on my people?”
Quin felt her face contorting through several expressions. This was more astonishing than the appearance of visitors from space! What was she supposed to think? She’d been expecting demands, perhaps. Claims of conquest. Not this! She drew a breath, choosing her words carefully. “Honestly, Watcher—this is very difficult for us to believe!”
“It is impossible!” Koro barked, standing. “We have launched missiles, yes. But every single one has followed the track back of a falling asteroid.”
Akura spread her hands, as though to frame the images. “Here
is the proof! How can you not believe it?”
Quin gazed back at her incredulously. “Really! You call it proof—but how can we know those pictures were not taken after one of your attacks on our world?”
Akura’s face darkened with rage. Her hands shook. “Can you not read the dates on the images?”
Quin flicked a shrug. “Dates can be falsified. And we do not even know your dating system.”
Akura stared at her in shocked disbelief. “You believe we traveled all this distance to show you falsified images?”
“Well, I—”
Li-Jared interrupted to say, “The analysis on our ship supports the authenticity of the dates, Ocellet. Our science—adviser—Jeaves is quite thorough. He has correlated these dates to celestial dating, and converted to your system for confirmation.”
Quin waved him off. “That may be, but I do not understand why you think we would do such a thing! Why would we want to harm your world? You say you did not know of the existence of our world. But we did not know of the existence of your world, either—or at least not your civilization—until bombs began falling on our own. So we did the only thing we could. We fought back. But of your people, we knew nothing at all, until today.”
Koro started to speak again, but Quin snapped her fingers to silence him. He looked startled and a little offended, but Quin couldn’t afford to care about that now. She spoke in measured words to the Watcher. “So you came here to assert your contention that we attacked your world first. Watcher, I am afraid my people, and my government, would never accept that contention.”
Akura sat back, infuriated. She turned to Sheeawn and conferred in Uduon. Finally she addressed Quin again. “If you do not believe our evidence, consider this: Why would we want war? What could we gain? You have nothing we want. We defend ourselves and nothing more.”
Quin closed her eyes a moment. How could this be? she thought. It is impossible. But what she said was, “We, Watcher of Uduon, also fight only to defend ourselves. Koro—” she graced him with a gesture “—spoke truth, when he said that until we were attacked, we never struck at any world.” She glanced to her left. “What is it, Aylen?”
Her science adviser rose to speak close, in a whisper. “May we confer privately for a moment, Ocellet?” Her eyes were wide.
Quin addressed the others. “Excuse us briefly.” She took Aylen’s arm and steered her away from the table. “All right. What is it?”
Aylen was unusually agitated. She whispered urgently, “Ocellet, I need to make sure you are aware of something.”
“What? Tell me.”
“Do you remember the series of deep space probes launched many years ago? When we were still in school?”
“Of course,” Quin murmured. “When you were still in school. But still, before my time in office. Those were not weapons. They were simple exploratory probes, weren’t they?”
Aylen whispered back, “I don’t know details, except that they were launched toward the sister star system. I’ll need to pull together information. But as I remember it, they never returned or were heard from after they passed through the radiation belts. I wonder if it’s possible—”
“That they’re connected?” Quin was stunned by the suggestion. “That seems extremely unlikely. But we must look into it, just in case. Go get someone on it at once. Learn everything you can. But get right back here. I need you.” Aylen acknowledged and hurried from the room. Koro looked at Quin questioningly. She motioned him over and filled him in. He looked skeptical, but said nothing.
As she was returning to the table, Li-Jared spoke up suddenly. “Ocellet Quin, Akura, forgive me. These are important questions. They need answers. They do. But they are not the only questions—or even the most important.”
Quin settled in her seat, squinting at him. “Explain that statement, please.”
Li-Jared pushed himself to his feet. “I will try. This is about the real reason we came here in the first place. This will take a few minutes to explain. I will try to be brief. But it is crucial that you understand.”
“Very well,” Quin said. Akura was impassive. Aylen slipped back into the room and took up her post listening.
Li-Jared bowed and looked briefly at each person in the room. “The reason I—we—brought these two people of Uduon here to meet you is that there is a much greater—a far deadlier—threat facing both your worlds. Facing you right now.”
Aylen leaned forward, squinting. But Koro hissed in disbelief. “What threat could be greater than asteroids falling out of the sky?”
Quin angled her head. “The commander has a point, Li-Jared.”
Li-Jared bobbed in response, but continued, “Nevertheless, there is a greater threat! To explain it, I must first tell you where I have been, and what brought me back.”
Koro placed both of his hands flat on the table and listened at erect attention. Aylen was barely breathing. She was probably learning more today than she had in her entire career. They all were. Quin gestured to Li-Jared to continue.
“We—” and he nodded to Bandicut “—have been living and working together in a place called Shipworld. It is almost inconceivably far away in space, far beyond the Heart of Fire, and far beyond either of our worlds’ suns. I could tell you more about that later. But for now, here’s what you need to know: Shipworld is a place that gathers folk from thousands of different worlds, and . . . well . . . how to explain?” Li-Jared glanced at Bandicut for help.
Holy mother of night, Quin thought. Are we really having this conversation? With aliens?
The human said, “It’s a society that seeks to ensure survival among many worlds. Thousands of people there have been rescued from worlds like yours. Like my own. Often from worlds facing cataclysmic dangers.”
“I see,” said Quin, though she didn’t at all.
Aylen asked, in a voice tinged with amazement, “How did you get there? From Karellia?”
Li-Jared flicked his fingers. “That story can wait, I think. I am trying to be brief.”
Quin spread her hands on the table. “Aylen, can you contain your curiosity?” The scientist sighed in frustration but gestured affirmatively.
“What is important now,” Li-Jared said, “is that from Shipworld, a grave danger was discovered, one that could threaten, not just entire worlds, but the entire—” He paused, searching for a word that would convey galaxy. He finally said it as Bandicut would.
“The what?” Koro asked.
“Galaxy. Sorry. That means a great many worlds—and their stars—suns—millions of them.” He stretched his hands in the air, and a note of wonder crept into his voice. “We can’t see them from here, because of the energy clouds. But when you’re out beyond the Heart of Fire, you will see a sky filled with stars.”
Quin waved off the description. She glanced at Aylen, who shrugged, as if to say, Yes, we know. “And this matters to us?”
“It matters more than you can imagine,” said Li-Jared. “This peril threatens not just millions of worlds you can’t see. It threatens Karellia.” He turned to gaze down at the still-seated Akura and Sheeawn. “And Uduon. In fact, Karellia and Uduon may well be the first targets of this threat. It is coming this way. And the reason it is coming is because of the war between your two worlds.”
Chapter 7
All on the Table
FOR A WHILE, Li-Jared thought he had them on his side. The looks of astonishment were unmistakable. Aylen, in particular, looked as if she wanted to pepper him with questions. The importance of it all appeared to be sinking in.
But as the conversation went on, the central point started to slide away, as arguments once more erupted over who was to blame for the war. Karellia started it. Uduon started it. Holovids of fiery missiles. Denials, and angry voices. How could they stop the war if they didn’t trust each other on the cause of it in the first place?
Li-Jared had to wrestle the subject back to what they needed to understand: what the Mindaru were, and what they could do. To both
of them.
He tried to explain: The Mindaru were ruthless. They had nearly succeeded in exploding a star. “You have never seen a deadlier threat.” He had not mentioned time-tides, the starstream, or the temporal distortion field. One step at a time. He wanted their attention; he didn’t want them bewildered. In any case, the temporal shield was still a Karellian secret, and he didn’t want to mention that yet.
Quin huddled with her science adviser. Aylen was practically beside herself. “If what they say is true, then it changes everything! We need to verify it, of course. But this could be huge.”
Quin turned back to Li-Jared. “Can you prove these things?”
Li-Jared raised his hands in supplication. “Yes, of course! But just for now, can you take my word for it, and let me finish?”
“Very well. You may finish explaining. These . . . Mindaru. You say they are not alive?”
“Not as we know life.” Li-Jared scratched his neck, thinking. “It’s not easy to explain . . .” That the Mindaru seemed to hate all biological life, and were astonishingly good at killing it. “We have had several encounters with them, and are lucky to be alive.”
Commander Koro, who had been fuming, finally erupted. “Have you led them here to us? Because if you have . . .”
Li-Jared waved his hands in the air. “No! No, if they make it here—and I think they will—it will be because you led them here.”
Quin’s fists clamped tight in resistance to this suggestion. But Koro demanded, “Explain!”
L-Jared gulped air. “It’s what I was trying to say before. It’s because of your planetary defenses—and because of an enormous structure out in space called the starstream.”
Koro’s voice was sharp. “The what?”
“Starstream. You didn’t make it—another culture did that—but your defensive screens are rippling outward into space, and causing changes in the starstream that will bring the Mindaru to you!”
That left them speechless for a good ten seconds, after which everyone started talking at once. Quin stood and rapped the table for silence. “The Uduon are to be escorted from the room,” she said. “Now. Escorts, take them to the other meeting room until I call for them.”
Crucible of Time Page 8
