The Damned Trilogy

by Alan Dean Foster

  “I am glad.” She did little to hide her sarcasm. “It does my spirit good to know that because of my efforts the administrators can sleep soundly at night.”

  “There is no call for that tone. You have had ample administrative support.”

  “Ample but reluctant, as though I were researching some dreaded disease.” When the senior did not attempt to dispute this analogy, she continued. “I am sure no one would be terribly disappointed if my entire body of work were to evaporate and I were to be reassigned to something less … discomfiting.”

  They walked down a glideway lined with stained glass and planted in pink finushia. “No doubt there is some truth to that observation,” he admitted. “Yet they also realize that there will be a place for your efforts until the war ends.”

  “Afterward as well, though they do not see it.”

  He glanced sideways at her. “How do you mean?”

  “The end of the war will not mean the disappearance of Humankind. At the Weave’s encouragement they have settled and populated many worlds in order to provide the alliance with more and more soldiers. The war’s conclusion will not make them go away. We will still have to interact with them socially. That is why my studies are so important.”

  The senior was silent for a while. “I am not so sure that will be necessary,” he said finally. “Many believe that with a little appropriate assistance Humans would be glad to resume their original isolation.”

  “That’s nonsense,” she replied, “or wishful thinking. You cannot keep offspring from revisiting the nest once they’ve matured. They can’t be swept out and forgotten like old droppings. No matter how much Weave society might wish it, they will not go away. So in order to live with them we must understand them better, and in order to understand them we must study them.” Her eyes flashed. “Under all conditions.”

  “Pray me no polemics, for I am on your side,” said the department head. “Were it not so, I would not have supported funding of your work thus far. I say only that there are others less farseeing … or tolerant.”

  “I am not alone in my studies.”

  “I know. There is Wunenenmil at the University Siet and Davivivin on Koosooniu.”

  “I know them well, from their work. As they know me. We are a small bonding; an unlikely triad, scholarly in intent rather than sexual.”

  They turned beneath a waterfall, along the winding path that led to the residences. “This reluctance to study Humankind in combat is not limited to the Wais,” the senior remarked. “It is a distaste common to all our allies, from the S’van to the Chirinaldo. The result is a lamentable gap in the history of the war. The Massood could fill it in well but are too busy fighting, the S’van too happy-go-lucky, the Lepar obviously out of the question. The Hivistahm and O’o’yan and Sspari are too intent on logistics.” A soft whistle escaped his beak. “Sometimes I think only the Wais are interested in serious scholarship.”

  “The Humans claim they are.”

  The senior glanced at her in surprise.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They have their own institutions of higher learning, in which they actually, believe it or not, study something other than the mastery of war.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard such stories.” The feathers on the back of his neck quivered visibly but his crest did not erect. “A Human university seems almost a contradiction in terms. It must be a terrifying place.”

  “I do not know. Someday I hope to experience it for myself.”

  “It is a true scholar you are, to be so dedicated to your work.”

  “No more so than any of my honored colleagues,” she unassumingly assured him.

  “Perhaps, but they are driven by respect and love for their subject matter. Surely it must be different for you.”

  “It is true I have no more love for Humankind than any other thinking Wais. I would not, could not deny that. My affection is for the vast gap in an important field that must be filled in. I am glad that despite their personal feelings the membership of the administration can see this.”

  “Rest confident that they do.”

  “Then they will understand how urgent it is that they fill the grant that I am going to formally request as of tomorrow.”

  “Grant?” His eyelids closed halfway. “For what? Additional memory storage? Some exotic research materials? Perhaps an off-world leave to journey to Koosooniu to confer with colleagues in person. I see no difficulty. We are at present adequately funded.”

  “Nothing so prosaic, I am afraid. It concerns something which has been troubling me for some time.”

  He halted abruptly. “You are not ill?” His concern was genuine. She’d sensed for some time that the department head’s interest in her was more than merely professional. Not that she in any way resented such attention: it was simply that he did not intrigue her as a potential mating partner. Her lack of interest kept his attentions at a distance without wholly discouraging him. She knew that it was a purely male thing over which he, even at his advanced age, had no control.

  “I feel strongly that I have progressed as far as possible given the materials available and must therefore take whatever steps are necessary to broaden the scope of my research activities.”

  “Of course; certainly. An in-person conference …”

  “No, you don’t understand. I have exhausted the literature going back to the first contact between Humankind and the Weave. My own work has already moved beyond anything being done anywhere else. I need—” She hesitated as she tried to couch her comments in the most persuasive possible dialect. “—to do some fieldwork.”

  The senior didn’t react immediately. When he did it was to chirp uncertainly, “Fieldwork?”

  “Yes. I feel I can no longer advance by means of impersonal study. I have gone as far as I can. You’ve seen my reports.”

  “Brilliant. Highly original work. One might almost say ingratiating despite the unpleasant nature of the subject matter. You have brought much credit to the department and the entire university.”

  “And I intend to bring even more, by pursuing my studies in the field. I need this grant in order that I may visit, in person, a combat site. The battlefield. After examining the most recent media reports, I have settled on Tiofa as a good place to begin.”

  “Tiofa is a disputed world, on which actual fighting is taking place.” The true meaning of her request had still to sink in.

  “Correct. Where else can I personally observe Humans interacting with other species in a combat situation?”

  Forgetting courtesy, he gaped at her as they entered the spiraling Gucheria garden. “You cannot be serious! You are Wais. I do not care how much you think you have hardened yourself to such horrors. Academic proximity is not the same as actual experience.”

  “Precisely why I must go,” she contended.

  “You know from your own work that we are emotionally and mentally unable to cope with such conditions.”

  “Over the years I have developed a number of exercises, mental as well as physical, that I believe will enable me to do so. There are also updates of the standard medication.” Her neck bobbed sharply, a fluid punctuation mark. “I must do this. Otherwise my research comes to a dead end.”

  “Yet you are still comparatively young.” The department head sounded regretful.

  “I will not stunt my intellectual growth any more than I would the physical. Fieldwork is the next step for me.”

  “I don’t know … the administration might consider itself responsible if anything were to happen to you in the course of work they had funded.”

  “I have already prepared the necessary waivers. As far as the legalities are concerned I could as readily die here as on the battlefield.” She used the approximate phonetic equivalent for the term, there being no word for “battlefield” in any of the Wais dialects.

  “Have you considered that in the course of this work you might at times be the only non-Human present?”

  A sli
ght involuntary shiver ran down her legs but not enough, she was certain, for the department head to notice. “I think I have thought of everything, though naturally there is no way to tell how one is going to react to an unprecedented situation without actually experiencing it. I would not propose the prospect if I felt I could not survive it.

  “This is more than a matter of simple academic research,” she added intently. “I have partially formulated certain hypotheses which trouble me deeply. I am convinced that this proposed fieldwork will eventually allow me to solidify or, preferably, discard them.”

  “If you are so troubled, you would be better off taking a pill for it,” the department head murmured.

  She halted on the trail and faced him demandingly. “Will you recommend that funding be appropriated?”

  He hesitated, having trouble reconciling impartiality with personal concern. “You put a burden on me.”

  “If anything happens to me, it will be on myself and no one else. This is a simple matter of academic propriety. There is no guilt attached.”

  “If you should survive this and return with even a minimal amount of original material, it would be a triumph for the university. Personally I think your mental state is questionable. Professionally I can only proffer my abject admiration.” Several minor crest feathers erected appropriately.

  “I will put through your request and recommend that it be granted promptly. To what I hope is not my everlasting regret, I will not do so anonymously.” He shifted smoothly to a much more personal dialect. “And I will certainly think of you fondly while you are engaged in this extraordinary enterprise.”

  “You will not be disappointed, nor will the university.” His approval sent a little thrill of elation through her. “I will bring such credit to the university that—”

  “Yes, yes,” he said, interrupting her as the delicately curved and etched doorway parted to admit them to the temperature-controlled interior of the next building. “If you survive.”

  II

  She’d never been off-world. There wasn’t much reason for a Wais historian to leave his or her beads and scanners. Except for individuals who chose to serve in the diplomatic service, Wais tended to stay close to home, supporting the war effort in other ways. This was due as much to personal preference as to practicalities. They invariably found all other worlds, no matter how supposedly sophisticated and advanced, a comedown culturally and in most other ways from their own homes. Besides, there was no need for academics to travel between worlds when it was far easier, simpler, cheaper, and faster to shuttle requested information through Underspace.

  As the shuttle lifted her orbitward to rendezvous with the Underspace transport, she had her first view of her home planet, and found it most exhilarating. Her personal as well as academic voyage of discovery had truly begun.

  Other inhabitable worlds must be equally glorious sights, she thought. Great glowing spheres surrounded by lambent halos of cloud-painted atmosphere, their single landmasses adrift in all-encompassing oceans of burnished blue.

  Except for Earth. Alone among the inhabited worlds, Earth was different. Home to Humankind and a perversely active geology. Font of weirdness and uniquely regressive but highly useful sapient behavior, not to mention her career.

  What a wonderful and shocking place it must be, she mused. Perhaps someday she would get there as well.

  She found herself starting to shake and immediately began one of the numerous mental and breathing exercises she had developed. The shaking went away. To imagine actually being on Earth, a possibility traditionally employed to frighten unruly children, was something few other Wais would dare to voluntarily contemplate. To the best of her knowledge no Wais had ever visited that distant sphere of mystery and horror, or any other Human-settled world. Such contacts were better left to the more resilient Massood, or even the S’van.

  At J’kooufa she had to transfer to a smaller vessel, far less luxurious and equipped with fewer amenities. There were only a handful of Wais aboard, and they clustered together for the duration of the voyage. Fearing misunderstanding if not outright isolation, she kept the purpose of her journey to herself as she socialized with them.

  After stopping at two other worlds she had to transfer again at Woura IV, to a ship filled with S’van and Hivistahm. There was also a contingent of Massood soldiers aboard. She saw her first weapons—simple sidearms. But no Humans. Not until she found herself aboard the armed military shuttle dropping like a stone toward the contested surface of Tiofa.

  Like many advance worlds of the Purpose, Tiofa had been erratically settled by farming T’returia protected, in this instance, mostly by fighting Mazvec. Traditionally, Weave forces would first establish a foothold and then push the defenders back toward their planetary strongholds, from whence they would eventually surrender.

  But resistance on Tiofa had been unusually robust. Not only had the Weave assault been enjoined, but in places actually reversed by counterattack. Weave Command was in danger of having to seriously consider abandoning the entire effort and withdrawing all forces.

  Prior to that it was decided to send a much larger than usual contingent of Human warriors into the fray. With the introduction of these reinforcements, the tide of battle began to turn, but the future of Tiofa was still very much in doubt. The fluidity of the situation appealed greatly to Lalelelang.

  The shuttle was not attacked as it descended, the enemy instead concentrating its efforts on resupplying its own troops on the surface rather than wasting resources on the difficult and dangerous task of attempting to interdict Weave vessels as they emerged from Underspace. Weave forces mimicked this approach, for which Lalelelang was grateful. When antagonistic vessels actually managed to synchronize—usually accidentally—their emergence from Underspace, one or the other invariably vanished in a silent flash of debonding atoms as overwhelming weaponry controlled by electronics operating faster than thought was instantly brought to bear. Such rare, isolated encounters generally concluded before either side had a chance to reflect on whether it had won or lost.

  Down on the surface, where the great majority of fighting took place, the opportunities for surviving a combat situation were considerably better, particularly for nonparticipants.

  Military consultants unhappy about her journey had warned her about the facilities she was likely to have to deal with. She shrugged them off, believing she was prepared for anything. Besides which, a Wais having to live anywhere besides a Wais world was by definition roughing it. Nor had she traveled this far to sample civilized verities.

  She was prepared not to see or encounter another Wais for the duration of her stay. The impending social isolation did not trouble her the way it would have an ordinary citizen. Serious researchers spend the majority of their time working in solitude anyway, while historians in particular tend to stumble awkwardly through reality, their minds constantly adrift in other times and places.

  As soon as it set down, the shuttle was guided into a heavily shielded and camouflaged shelter set in a valley among modest, round-topped mountains. It docked alongside a number of other similar craft. Several were in the process of being serviced while large, malicious shapes were being carefully unloaded from the largest.

  Only the setting was utterly unfamiliar. The rest she had noted and committed to the experience of memory from numerous studies. She felt disoriented but not alienated. Her research stood her in good stead.

  Tall, angular, and lethally armed, a no-nonsense Massood directed her and the few other nonmilitary passengers to a waiting lounge where crude but adequate multispecies facilities had been installed. She folded herself elegantly into an appropriate chair and prepared to wait. Medication as yet unsampled weighed heavily in her shoulder pouch.

  It was an excellent vantage point from which to observe a fascinating and constantly changing consortium of visitors. Ferocious-looking Massood strode purposefully in and out of the lounge, towering over everyone else. Stocky, hirsute S’van bump
ed into one another, exchanging volatile fusillades of conversation and laughter before moving on. Reptilian Hivistahm in an infinite variety of electric green skin-tones rushed hurriedly to and fro, occasionally pausing to exchange greetings with their more high-strung but less loquacious distant relations, the O’o’yan. She even saw a bulky, massively built Chirinaldo looking unusually thoughtful behind the mask of its heliox helmet.

  But no Wais. Nor Bir’rimor or Sspari or numerous other Weave allies. No doubt the mix would narrow radically the nearer she moved to the front lines.

  It was then that she saw her first Humans.

  After so many years of intimate study, their appearance, the way they moved their heads and eyes, their limbs and bodies, was as familiar to her as that of her own family. There were three of them, coming down the central concourse toward her. Two males and a female, the latter recognizable by the characteristic mammalian generalities. As was usual, the males were slightly taller and more muscular, though there was considerable variation among the sexes within the species.

  They were talking animatedly, their conversation occasionally punctuated by loud bursts of raucous and utterly undisciplined Human laughter. This extraordinary noise, approximated within the Weave only by the S’van, caused heads to turn among the Hivistahm and other strollers, who gave the trio a wide berth.

  Lalelelang’s recorder seemed to have materialized magically in the grasp of one wingtip, and she was annotating her observations almost before she realized it. A thrill of excitement raced through her. Here were, after all, in the flesh, representatives of the species which formed the basis of her life’s work. They appeared to be typical specimens, which …

  No, she reminded herself. Uncivilized they might be, but it wouldn’t do to think of them in that fashion, even if they were only associate members of the Weave itself. That was as much their choice as that of the other allied species. She would have to be careful to adjust her perspectives accordingly.