“Ever since it was determined that the Iollth planned on landing here first,” the female on his right informed him in response to his query, “all public facilities were immediately shut down. Historians said they would not put it past the invaders to shoot down any and every aircraft within above-curvature range of their spacecraft. So none have departed Pedwath Port since notification was received.” Moving closer, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial chitter.
“The government is releasing only meager amounts of information. Some reports say there is only one Iollth ship. Others say a dozen.” Dark eyes beseeched him. “You are Ussakk the Astronomer. Ussakk the Revealer.”
“There are three ships.” No one had told him not to speak on the subject, nor did he see any reason to withhold so basic a piece of information. Everyone would know the details soon enough. “Not many.”
“Too many,” the female officer responded. “Three. I’d hoped it was only one. Are they very big?”
“Big enough,” he admitted.
“We are here,” she announced, suddenly resuming her official demeanor. But despite her best efforts she could not completely hide her anxiety. No one could.
The assembly-warren he was introduced into was already crowded. A few of those present wore senior police uniforms, the Hyfft having no military. They had no need for one. Nor was it a problem.
Except when the Iollth arrived.
Among those not in uniform Ussakk recognized several prominent scientists. There were also a few community representatives from across Vinen-Aq. Whether they were volunteers or had been ordered to participate by the Great Government he had no way of knowing, though he fully intended to ask.
As he was handed a two-piece translator, one part to drape around his short neck and the other to insert into an ear, a distinctive face jumped out at him. White of fur as well as whisker, bent forward at the upper spine like a cub’s mistreated toy, Yoracc the Historian was struggling to insert his translator’s receiver into his left ear. Ussakk moved to assist.
“Allow me, honored elder.” Carefully, he worked the small, silvery unit into the older Hyfft’s hearing organ.
“Thank you.” Eyes once replaced regarded him thoughtfully. “You are Ussakk the Astronomer, who first detected the Iollth intrusion.”
Ussakk chirruped an affirmative. “I would have preferred it had been someone else.”
“We all have our preferences,” the historian agreed, “which are now to be ignored. Albeit that it is all secondhand and gleaned from historical records, I am here because of my knowledge of Iollth conduct and behavior.” His whiskers trembled slightly but were no longer capable of rising or pointing. “Your presence I find less understandable.”
Ussakk whistled softly. “As the bearer of bad news, I suspect that this is my reward. More logically, the authorities must believe I have something to contribute.”
Yoracc snorted, both nostrils curling slightly up and backward toward his face. “Sacrificial distraction. You have just arrived?”
The astronomer chirruped an affirmative. “I was rushed out of Therapp without even a chance to settle my personal affairs.”
The older male blew empty air. “It was much the same with me, though I am no longer so easily rushed.” Raising a short arm, he gestured not at the crowd that milled about within the warren but at the sweeping transparency that revealed the first fringes of urbanization beyond the outer limits of the airport. “It has been bad here. The Overwatch authority has done its best, and is to be commended for doing so, but there was still considerable panic. There were injuries; some serious, all impolite. I would imagine it is ongoing. You did not see evidence of it?” Almost instantly, he answered his own question.
“No, you wouldn’t, having arrived directly by aircraft. I am told there is an assortment of some damage within the city itself, but the greatest harm has come from those utilizing conveyors who in their panic have strayed from the designated, marked routes. Without sensors to guide them, they have slammed at high speed into fixed objects as well as one another.” His unhappiness showed in his face, in the way in which his ears and whiskers drooped all the way forward. “Already the Iollth have caused many deaths, and they have not yet even arrived.”
As fretful, restless chatter rose and fell around them, Ussakk and the historian spent a moment commiserating in silence. “What is it we are expected to do?” the astronomer finally asked. “What does the Great Government want of us?”
“You mean, besides serving ourselves up as an initial sacrifice, in the event the Iollth should arrive in a foul mood?” Plainly, Yoracc the Historian held no illusions about the probable fate that was in store for him. “I imagine we are expected to find out exactly what they want and to try to minimize it. Fortunately, if any part of this can be said to be fortunate, precedence provides us with reasonably clear guidelines. The modern history of Hyff records six separate Iollth incursions. Although serious harm was inflicted each time, it was in direct proportion to the degree of defiance our kind offered.” Accepting a drink pipe from a passing automated server, he waved it in the general direction of the eerily deserted airfield beyond the curving transparency.
“Since it has been decided by the present Great Government to offer as little resistance as possible, we may be expected to avoid the worst of Iollth depredations. That there will still be some, history also shows us.” With an effort, his whiskers fluttered slightly upward, a sure sign of impending sarcasm. “They have an apparent fondness for reminding the Hyfft what they are capable of inflicting, if our people should be so obstinate as to annoy them.”
Ussakk brooded, though not for long. The Hyfft tended not to dwell in moodiness. “How bad will it be, do you think?”
The historian blinked several times in rapid succession; a visual shrug. “That, I am afraid, history does not tell us. The Iollth are not wholly predictable. Certainly some Hyfft will die. Whether the number will eventually be countable on one hand or whether a calculator will be needed to render the final tally, only time, luck, and diplomatic skill will tell.”
Having nothing more to ask, and finding the conversation’s direction wearing more and more on his spirit, Ussakk bade the senior historian farewell and moved off to a corner of the room that allowed him to press his nose and whiskers up against the curving transparency. Like all such, it was flexible, and allowed him to push his face slightly into it. When he drew back, a slight bas-relief of his visage briefly remained, a rapidly shrinking echo of his appearance. In a little while, it was entirely possible that he would be disappeared just as quickly, and efficiently. He raised his eyes to the clear, blue sky of Hyff.
Most of all, he would miss seeing the stars.
“It all go crazy below.”
Sobj-oes strode alongside Walker, her long legs (though not as long as Viyv-pym’s, Walker reflected) easily maintaining the pace as they headed for the big cargo shuttle that would carry the landing party down to the surface. George trotted confidently alongside his human. As for Sque and Braouk, they had preceded the two Terrans and were awaiting departure.
“Surface imaging show clear signs of population abandoning not just area of selected landing site, but entire city. Several fires also breaking out.” Wide yellow-gold eyes gazed into his much smaller brown ones. “Evidence of widespread panic is compelling.”
“Must be us,” George commented blithely. “We’ll soon straighten them out. They’ll relax as soon as they learn that all we want to take away from here is directions.”
“Possibly.” Walker was trying to make sense of the astronomer’s words as they turned into the shuttle bay access corridor. “I wonder if they react like this every time a visiting spacecraft arrives in their system.”
“Maybe they don’t get many visitors.” George effortlessly hopped over a conduit rise in the floor. “They haven’t exactly been welcoming. If they don’t want company, you’d think somebody down below would at least have the courtesy to ask us to get lost
.”
“They may not think they’re in a position to do so. After all, insofar as Gerlla-hyn’s staff has been able to determine, they have no space-going capability of their own.” When trading commodities, he reflected, those unable to make a purchase sensibly kept the inability to themselves. You didn’t advertise weakness.
But weakness was one thing, the kind of regional panic the Niyyuu were observing from orbit another matter entirely. Something else had gripped the denizens of the planet below.
Well, if the locals wouldn’t communicate with ships in orbit, perhaps they’d be more inclined to do so in person.
Commander-Captain Gerlla-hyn was taking no chances. As preliminary surveys had shown, the natives were technologically advanced. Just because they had thus far shown themselves to be noncommunicative didn’t mean they were helpless, much less friendly. As nominal “commander” of the expedition, Walker had reluctantly agreed that under such confusing circumstances it was always more sensible to deal from a position of strength. So the landing party would disembark armed, in the hope that there would be no shooting but in the realization that anything was possible.
Sque had tried to veto the decision. “There is always the danger our appearance may be misconstrued by the no doubt equally primitive locals, and result in a typically primal aggressive reaction.” Her silver-gray eyes had squinted even tighter than normal. “There is also the fact that the Niyyuuan warriors who accompany this expedition are overly eager to make use of modern weaponry, having been on their own benighted world restricted to the use of ancient and traditional devices.”
But the K’eremu was overruled, both by Gerlla-hyn and Walker. Better for their appearance to be misconstrued than to be subject to a fatal ambush. Despite the signs of apparent panic below, it was possible the city was being cleared of its population to save it from an anticipated battle. George, certainly, understood that the Niyyuuan Commander-Captain could not take chances.
“You don’t trot into another dog’s territory wearing a muzzle,” the mutt had declared firmly.
Commander-Captain Gerlla-hyn was not among those slated for the landing party, Walker noted as he entered the big shuttle. Besides himself and his friends, Sobj-oes was present, as were several Niyyuu who had been to other worlds such as Seremathenn. There was the agreed-upon contingent of warriors, all of whom had volunteered to participate in the great expedition. And the appointed (perhaps anointed would have been a better term) representatives of the worldwide media of Niyu, chattering hoarsely and expectantly among themselves as they prepared to record the encounter for later broadcast to enthralled viewers back home.
Assuming they got back home, Walker found himself thinking. In its scope and expectations, no Niyyuu had ever envisioned anything like this attempt to return himself and his friends to their respective homeworlds. Unlike their heroic hosts, he and George, Sque and Braouk, had nothing to lose by trying.
Maybe, with luck, we’ll all get home, he mused as he found a too-narrow Niyyuuan seat and tried his best to secure himself firmly for the coming descent. But he had been away for so long now, several years, that that hope grew fainter by the day.
Luck would be needed, he knew, if the seemingly unsettled sentients whose acquaintance they were about to make were going to be of any help at all in that increasingly desperate quest.
Sobj-oes settled herself into the landing seat beside him.
“Still no response from below?” he asked halfheartedly.
Something powerful whanged far behind them and the shuttle shuddered slightly. “Nothing,” the visibly bemused astronomer told him. “Latest observations confirm locals continue to stream out of city. I am told by military people that it almost as if they expecting an attack. But if not talk to us, how can they find out we only here to ask questions of their astronomers, try some restocking of edible organics, and let Niyyuu who have been confined within ships stretch legs on planetary surface?”
Conversation ceased briefly while the shuttle disengaged and dropped out of the main ship’s bay. Artificial gravity faded. There were no ports, but heads-up views of their destination drifted throughout the main cabin, available for anyone to scrutinize.
“You don’t think maybe that they’re planning to ambush us when we land?” Walker found the awkward possibility unsettling. He was not armed, and unlike on Niyu, any hostile action here would involve weapons embodying more destructive potential than the traditional Niyyuuan swords and arrows.
“In absence of communication, is imperative not begin relationship with miscommunication,” she told him. “But must be ready for anything.” She waved a twin-digited hand at the image floating in the air before her. “If left up to us, I and fellow scientists would make landing without weapons. As would attached official representatives of media of Niyu. But we not charged with responsibility for protecting and preserving this expedition. Commander-Captain Gerlla-hyn is, and he not send contact force into unknown situation without suitable protection.”
Peering around the sizable compartment, Walker noted the presence of two dozen volunteer troops drawn from the many semi-independent realms of Niyu. They had been fitted out with modern arms and body armor—a considerable change from what they were used to using against one another in the traditional realm-against-realm battles that supplied both entertainment and political sway on their homeworld. As only the best had been chosen to accompany the expedition, he had no doubt they were proficient in the use of such arms.
Were their counterparts awaiting their arrival on the planet below? And if so, were they prepared to shoot first and query later? He tried to convince himself that was unlikely. Intelligent species, he had learned, tended not to shoot on sight, but to talk first. To seek commonalities rather than differences. Hostilities were expensive. One had to have sound economic reasons to make war rather than peace.
Besides, unless the survey that had been ongoing ever since the Niyyuuan force had arrived in the system had been badly mismanaged, the inhabitants of the world below had not traveled beyond their own atmosphere, much less between star systems. Surely that put them at a disadvantage in matters military. It was akin to one football team playing another without shoes. Range, mobility, and tactical options were greatly reduced.
The shuttle shuddered as it entered atmosphere, its descent guided by automatics and only monitored by the pilots on board. Chatter among the soldiers that had been almost constant since his arrival began to fade. The Niyyuu were not afraid of fighting, but any sentient was sensible to worry about the unknown.
Hovering before him, the three-dimensional heads-up view of clouds gave way to green rolling terrain tinged here and there with fields of yellow and brown. In places, hills gave way to mountains, none of them daunting. The shuttle passed high over several small cities, none comparable in extent to the larger municipalities of Niyu, far less the extensive modern conurbations of advanced Seremathenn. The shuttle’s combat gear was fully activated, but nothing gave chase, nothing tried to bring them down. The nearest anything came to interfering with their descent was a flock of thousands of small winged creatures that appeared on the heads-up as brown-bodied dots. The shuttle flew through and past them far too fast for its external sensors to resolve individual zoological details.
Then they were over ocean and slowing rapidly. A number of watercraft of appealing and functional design flashed by beneath. Once, something large and streamlined burst from the water and glided for an unlikely distance above the surface before sinking once more beneath the waves. Walker saw little evidence of foam. Perhaps the water oceans of this world were less salty than those of home. Thinking of foamless waves made him remember lazy days spent on Lake Michigan. He forced them from his mind.
A voice sounded in the compartment, apprising them of their imminent arrival. The shuttle struck ground, slid some distance on its specially treated skids, and came to a halt. The heads-up showed their immediate surroundings: open tarmac, buildings not far away, a few mul
ti-winged parked aircraft of local design. For a while after that, nothing.
Then the view displayed on the heads-up shifted toward one multi-story structure. Figures were beginning to emerge, approaching the motionless landing craft. As Walker stared at them, intrigued by the short, single-garmented shapes, George nudged his leg. From the seat alongside his human, the strapped-in canine nodded at his own heads-up.
“Kind of cuddly-looking, as aliens go,” the dog observed. “Except for the guns they’re carrying.”
Ussakk stared at the alien vessel. Its dimensions loomed all the more impressive when one realized that it was but a fraction of the size of the smallest of the three great starships that were in orbit high overhead. It did not help knowing that had his kind chosen to make the effort, their technological prowess was probably equal to the task of constructing similar vessels.
Something that was unlikely ever to happen, he knew. The Hyfft were too homebound, too attached to their own comfortable, congenial, familiar world to want to cast themselves out into the vast, cold reaches between the stars. There was no need, the authorities declared whenever such proposals were tentatively put forth by the more audacious members of the scientific community. A waste of time and resources. Besides, even if such craft were designed and built, who would use them?
What it all came down to, Ussakk knew, was that when the Hyfft emerged at night from their sophisticated, technologically advanced warrens and looked up at the curving bowl of the universe, they were both awed and afraid. Over the years, he had learned not to judge his kind too harshly. His profession placed him in that exceptional, small group of individuals who felt differently from the majority.
Besides, he reminded himself, the Hyfft had reason to fear the great darkness. When the universe came calling, it was all too often in the form of the Iollth.
The Candle of Distant Earth Page 3
