Foster, Alan Dean - Humanx 03

by Alan Dean Foster

  Eventually they were passed through, accompanied by the kind of polite indifference the inhabitants of the capital reserved for those citizens unfortunate enough to have been born on other worlds. Ryo was too relieved at having successfully passed identification to feel any upset at such chauvinism.

  Wuu seemed to know where he was at all times and quickly located a hotel on Level 75, which was reasonably close to the city center.

  Save for areas of historic importance, the center of Daret for twentyfive prime levels served only the growing Humanx government.

  As their transport module carried them along wide corridors Ryo noticed burrows with stone facings. This was the heart of the eternal city of Daret, and Daret was the heart of the modern Humanx civilization. History pressed close all around him.

  If he was slightly overwhelmed, Wuu was exactly the opposite. "Doesn't this mean anything to you?" Ryo asked him, gesturing out the module's single forward port.

  "Doesn't such grandeur inspire your poet's mind?" "Yes, it does. Ten thousand years of bureaucrats." They were to have begun their search the following morning, but Wuu insisted there was no need for hurry and offered to show Ryo more of the city. For example, there were the fabled Echo Falls. These fell from an opening in the underside of the River Moregeeon past a hundred and fifty levels to a great artificial cavern where the tremendous power of the vertical cascade was harnessed to supply energy for the city.

  This and the poet's descriptions of other wonders caused Ryo to hesitate, but only briefly. It was unreasonable to expect the authorities to trace him quickly, but it worried him nonetheless and he was anxious to begin the hunt as soon as possible. Wuu grumbled at the thought of having to plunge so soon into the morass that was officialdom, and it had been Ryo's turn to supply the enthusiasm.

  It was all basically so simple. "We just locate this Brohwelporvot," he'd explained blithely to the poet, "and he directs us from there." Wuu had executed a gesture indicative of thirddegree naivete mixed with fourthdegree intimations of absurdity. "My boy, you are bright and persistent, but there is still much you have to learn. Consider the second communication that was received by your premate, the one that went to such pains to deny everything which had been communicated before. If we inquire after this perplexing fellow we would doubtless discover that he has been transferred to a `rest' position somewhere many lightyears from here. That is, if we can find anyone or any machine willing even to admit to his existence.

  "In addition, such an inquiry would attract unwanted attention from whoever compelled him to send that second negative communication. You must know, my boy, that I am not at all convinced there is anything to all this blather about alien monsters and such. I simply find the prospect of pursuing so outrageous a rumor attractive.

  "But if the opposite should be in some manner true, then we are likelyunless we are very carefulto find ourselves shipped off to some distant resting burrow until we agree to drop our private search. In any case, we will not find truth.

  If we would discover the latter, we must be circumspect as we delicately circumvent." But even Wuu's most persuasive manner and persistent questions drew nothing in the way of useful information. As the days passed Ryo was beginning to believe that Fal's relative really had suffered a temporary mental breakdown.

  Likewise discouraging to further inquiry was the condescension with which they were treated, because they came from a relatively undeveloped and unimportant colony world. This didn't trouble the philosophical Wuu, but it rankled Ryo's pride and went counter to everything he'd learned as a larva about the equality of all citizens. Clan and hivemothers excepted, of course.

  When a month had passed, even the normally indefatigable Wuu was beginning to show signs of losing interest. "We may have played the game to its conclusion, my boy," he murmured one evening in their hotel room. The hotel ran from Level 75 to Level 92. It was comfortable and boasted an exit on each level, but its novelty had long since worn off for both of them.

  It is only natural for the interest of a poet to wane, Ryo thought. Desperately he tried to find some way to convince his sponsor to continue the quest, for without Wuu's knowledge and other resources Ryo knew he would never come any closer to the truth of the matter.

  It came to them both as they boredly watched a fictionalized dramatization of the confrontation between Twentieth Emperor Thumostener and King Vilisvinqen of Maldrett over possession of the Valley of the Dead between the ancient cities of Yelwez and Porpiyultil. It was tense, stylized, and in keeping with proper anachronisms, militaristic.

  "The military. Of course." Ryo put aside his drinking spout, letting it slide back into the wall as he raised up on his sleeping lounge. "We have to contact the military again." Wuu sounded tired. "I've told you before, my boy, that any direct inquiry as to the whereabouts or even the existence of this Brohwelporvot fellow will draw either useless replies or unwholesome questions. Still," and he made a gesture of seconddegree indifference, "since we have discovered nothing so far, perhaps it is worth a risk." "No, noI've no intention of going to the military authorities about Brohwel," Ryo replied.

  Wuu set aside his portable drinking siphon and gazed curiously at his young companion. "Why else would we want to contact the military? Unless, of course, you plan a simple march up to the nearest office and intend once there to ask outright about the truth of their recent acquisition of a shipload of alien monstrosities?" "Nothing of the sort. You see, I have another and wholly legitimate reason for making my way all the way from Willowwane to Hivehom to contact military authorities." "Don't be abstruse with me, boy," muttered Wuu. "I'm tired and feeling my age.

  One puzzle at a time is enough." "It's just this... " Ryo began.

  The military center was not located with the other government offices. It lay in a cube complex of its own near the outskirts of the metropolis. The two supplicants paid the transport module and entered through a triplewide entrance off the busy corridor.

  Swarms of workers scuttled through passageways and worked behind counters and at saddledesks. Most of them displayed inlaid military insignia. Here and there Ryo noticed individuals in whose chiton gleamed crimson four pointed stars to match his own. They were rather more common than he'd been led to believe, but his thoughts were too busy for the revelation to depress him.

  He turned to face Wuu and found the poet staring at him expectantly, for now the burden of inquiry fell on Ryo's thorax. He led the way into the complex.

  Eventually they found their way to a large information booth. The eightsided interior was filled with chattering, whistling soldiers. No explanatory signs marred the various sides, nothing differentiated one from its neighbor. Ryo strode boldly to the nearest and looked across the counter at a busy Humanx.

  Sixteen fingers flew across an intimidating keyboard.

  "Pleasant day to you," Ryo said to the soldier by way of introduction and greeting.

  She looked over at him and he saw the light glance from the pair of emerald metal circles set into her left shoulder.

  "This is Information West and what is it you need to know?" she inquired pleasantly.

  "It's just thatthat..." "Yes?" His hesitation had not aroused any suspicions in her. Not yet, anyway.

  He looked helplessly back toward Wuu. The poet ignored his stare, was gazing past him and admiring the soldier's ovipositors. Ryo inhaled, turned to the saddled soldier, and threw out the intricate halflie.

  "We are from Willowwane. I am called," and he showed her the fake identiplate as he pronounced his adopted name. "I have many relatives in a small town called Paszex. It lies far to the north of the capital and is the northernmost hive on the planet save for Aramlemet.

  "Four years ago Paszex was attacked and ravaged by a group of AAnn. Many died and property damage was substantial.

  "At that time we were promised increased warship Patrols for the isolated communities of the northern continent. No such developments have been forthcoming. I and my adoptive sire," and he i
ndicated the expressionless Wuu, "have traveled all this way at our own expense, to get some satisfaction." "I see," said the soldier thoughtfully, offering no comment. She swiveled her saddle to face the large console. The information displayed there was canceled by the touch of a key. Further touches produced different information.

  "Here we are," she said, speaking without turning from the screen. "Record of the attack and related briefings. You say you have relatives still living in this Paszex?" Ryo stiffened, which is not easy for a Humanx to do, but it was too late to back out or change his story. "I was there myself during the attack. I know what it's like firsthand. Not a pleasant experience." He worried overmuch. The question had been put out of curiosity, not suspicion.

  The soldier did not follow it up. "I've never had the chance for combat patrol myself," she said, a mite less stiffly, "but I've studied many records of such incidents. I sympathize with youinformally, of course." She hesitated, considering. "You need to see someone in the office of the Supervising Officer in Charge of (roundSide Protection, Colonial Burrow. That can be arranged, I think, and" Ryo hurriedly interrupted, making the complex gesture necessary to excuse his discourtesy. "If you don't mind," he said, "I've promised my relatives and clanmates back home that I'd try to find out exactly why the AAnn chose our poor little hive for attack. Paszex contains nothing of military interest. Their purpose in attacking it remains a mystery to all who live there." "Death without purpose is ever a mystery," murmured Wuu.

  "The dead are dead." The soldier eyed Ryo curiously. "What benefit could you and your friends derive from knowing the AAnn's motivations?" "Such information would ease the pain that arises from uncertainty in the minds of the living," Wuu put in, "and perhaps also show us how to make ourselves less attractive to attack." "I can understand that," the soldier said.

  "So we'd prefer, at least at first," said Ryo, "to see someone in charge ofoh," and he tried to make it sound casual, "general xenology. Then we could go to the Colonial Burrow Division of the GroundSide Protection Office and find out why we're not getting the protection we were promised." The soldierclerk was uncertain. "The Xenology Ministry of Information is located among the general administrative offices at Daret Center. I fail to see why you'd put such a request to a military office." "Because the motivation resulted in military action and a military psychology is involved," Ryo replied.

  She stared back at him speculatively a moment longer. Then her curiosity vanished. Others waited impatiently behind Ryo and Wuu and it was not her business to analyze the requests of Outsiders, only to answer them.

  "Of course. A perfectly reasonable request," she muttered. "The department you wish to visit is normally closed to nonmilitary inquiries. But since you've come such a long way I will see what I can do for you." "Thank you," said Wuu. "Up till now we've had very little help. We're very tired. Your assistance is most welcome." "It's no bother," said the soldier, gratified.

  The soldier studied her readouts as her fingers danced on the keyboard.

  "Xenology has its own divisions and subburrows, and a staff devoted to Motivational Analysis." "That sounds promising," Ryo said.

  "Here you are, then." She touched some keys and a pink plastic wand emerged from a hole. She picked it up, inserted it briefly into another hole. There was a pulse of light within the counter and a soft buzz. Then she handed it across the counter to Ryo.

  "That's your directional pass." Rising in the saddle, she pointed to her left, toward a corridor. Stripes in a dozen different fluorescent colors ran along the framing walls, parallel to the floor.

  "Follow the pink stripe," she instructed them. "Eventually you'll reach the Xenology Burrow. Motivational Analysis is located on the right. If you become disoriented or have any questions," she indicated the hole in the counter, "there are informationaccess points like this one set in the walls. Insert your pass for additional information." She settled back into her saddle.

  "Thanks to you. Thanks greatly," said Ryo, taking the tiny wand. "Good day and night and a second metamorphosis to you." "Good luck." The soldier was already talking politely to the next supplicant.

  Ryo was far more gratified than offended by the abrupt dismissal.

  The tunnels and corridors of the military complex seemed endless but no more so than those of Central Administration where they'd wandered hopelessly for days.

  They descended a dozen levels and crossed whole cubes before the use of the pass stick and judicious questioning of passersby finally brought them to an entranceway marked XENOLOGYMOTIVATIONAL ANALYSIS. Ryo slipped the pass into the hole in the door, which parted obediently.

  They stood in a circular, domed chamber. Three desks occupied the three triangular divisions of the chamber to left, right, and straight ahead. Peculiar creatures were mounted on the walls and tridimensional murals of alien landscapes camouflaged chip files and ceiling. Ryo shook as if he were preparing to mate.

  An efficientlooking soldier in a green vest greeted them. Three metallic green stars and one brown one were set into his shoulder.

  "What service may I perform for you, sirs?" lie did not ask what they were doing in the chamber. Without the proper pass, they would not have been admitted. He naturally assumed they were on legitimate business.

  Ryo repeated the story he'd told the information clerk.

  "Yes, I recall many of those sporadic and nasty little attacks on Willowwane," the soldier said sadly. "Your world is not the only colony to suffer such attention. There have been many such incidents. Too many. But we are scientists here, not combat burrow. There is no penalty for expressing opinion, however." "It's refreshing to hear," Ryo admitted.

  "Nothing of the sort ever touches us here, on Hivehom. The AAnn would never risk that extreme a provocation. Their elaborate explanations would not be strong enough to rationalize away an attack on the mother world itself assuming they could get through the defenses, of course.

  "So they content themselves with irritating us. Eventually such practices may bring about the war they strive so assiduously to avoid. Meanwhile they test our weapons and reactions and readiness far from areas of Humanx power." "Precisely the problem we're here to address," Ryo said.

  "And redress," Wuu added, for good measure.

  "Naturally, I sympathize with your concern," the soldier said. "You wish explanations and answers. You've had no trouble from the AAnn since the incident you speak of?" "No," Ryo admitted, "but we" "Come with me, please." The officer stepped back, made a sign to his busy pair of associates. There was some enigmatic professional discussion following which Ryo and Wuu were led into another room behind the outer chamber.

  A large screen dominated the far end. Banks of chips set in proper file casings covered the entire righthand wall. A dozen comfortably padded saddles filled, the floor of the dimly lit room.

  The officer moved along the wall, finally settled on a key, touched it. A sliver of rectangular plastic popped into view. He inserted it into the projector in the back wall, then handed Ryo a small cube dotted with indentations.

  "This controls the speed, direction of movement, and other functions of the projector," he explained. "I've run it up to the section that deals with the attack on your home. Other such incidents are also documented on this chip. The chip reviews the history of such attacks and goes into detail on AAnn motivational psychology." He started toward the doorway to the outer chamber.

  "If the material displayed does not answer your questions, I'll be happy to talk further with you if you finish before I go off shift. If I'm gone, the evening shift will be happy to assist you." The door closed behind him.

  Wuu looked disappointed. "I haven't worked this hard and come all this way to look at sanitized military histories." "Nor have I," said Ryo, "but it's a start, at least. Running the chip will give us time to decide what to try next." They activated the projector and soon Ryo's thoughts were not on what to do next but on the material playing across the screen. He was at once fascinated and appalled as the reconstruc
tion resurrected those confused, frightened moments of so long ago.

  Chapter Seven

  After discussion of the attack and lengthy dissection of AAnn attitudes, the chip Nil I reported the steppedup patrols around Willowwane, the official protest lodged with the AAnn by ambassador Yeltrentrisrom, and a statistical summation integrating the attack on Paszex with all similar AAnn adventures.

  Words, Ryo thought bitterly. Words and figures. Lives lost and burrows shatteredall interpreted statistically, for the benefit of study. He let the machine run. It began to describe other attacks on Willowwane and on Colophon.

  When the chip concluded Ryo was no nearer an idea on how they should proceed.

  Wuu was seated in one of the saddles, contemplatingor sleeping. Either way he was not to be disturbed, Ryo knew.

  He peered through the doorway into the outer chamber. Three new soldiers occupied the three desks now.

  The nearest looked toward the partly open door. "Having trouble with the projection unit? The depth perceiver has a tendency to go fiat sometimes." "No, nothing like that," Ryo replied. "I thought I had a question, but it can wait until the others return." "That will be tomorrow morning," the soldier said pleasantly. "Are you sure I can't help?" "Perhaps later." Ryo shut the door and retreated back into the study room. "Wuu, I wonde r if perhaps we might" The poet was not in his saddle. He was standing opposite the chip bank, studying numbers and readouts.