Among their guides (or handlers, as George continued to insist on referring to them) were the astronomer Ussakk, the linguist Mardalm, and a senior, darkly furred government representative who went by the euphonious moniker of Sehblidd.
Trotting alongside the diminutive civil servant made George look bigger than he was. “So tell me, Sehby: What are these Iollth really like and how often do they show up to pick on your kind?”
The bureaucrat’s eyes were deeper set than those of the majority of Hyfft, giving him an atypically severe appearance that was belied by his effusive personality. The subject of George’s inquiry, however, was enough to dampen his customary enthusiasm. Brushing past a grove of diminutive trees, whose brown trunks were striated with startling streaks of bright orange, he considered how best to respond.
“They are a terrible folk.” The delegate’s tone was devoid of the usual cheerful chirps that characterized Hyfftian speech. “Of course, I myself have thankfully never actually seen one. The last Iollth raid on Hyff occurred before the time of my birth.” Breaking off from a protruding branch what appeared to be a four-petaled flower but was actually more lichen-like, he inhaled its sharp fragrance and passed it along to Walker. Tentatively, the human sniffed the odd-looking growth and was rewarded with a noseful of tingling bouquet not unlike crushed pepper.
“It is very peculiar,” Ussakk put in, joining the conversation. “Though we ourselves shy away from interstellar travel, the economics of it are not difficult to assess. As it seems impossible any raid by a few starships on another developed world could justify the expense incurred in doing so, our mental analysts propose that the Iollth must obtain more than just fiscal profit from their wicked enterprise.”
Short arms behind his back, Sehblidd let out a terse whistle of revulsion. “It has been suggested that they make these occasional forays for the purpose of plundering and destroying because something in their racial nature compels them to do so.”
“In other words,” George observed sagely, “because they enjoy it.”
The delegate’s whiskers rose noticeably, signifying his agreement. “It’s difficult to imagine how any species calling itself civilized can embark on such a vile endeavor. But what other reason could there be?”
“Excuse me for saying so,” Walker put in, “but this kind of motivation relates pretty closely to what I do—to what I used to do—for a living. It’s been my experience that sometimes individuals or groups will go out of their way to get something, even paying more for it than it’s worth, that they can’t acquire any other way but that they desperately want.”
“Yes, yes.” Sehblidd gestured absently. “We know that is the case with certain minerals. At least, we assume it is the case. It is almost too much to imagine that the Iollth would rather cross the void between the stars to obtain something they could otherwise acquire by simple mining.”
Tail metronoming as he walked, George shrugged expressively. “Hey, I know a couple of dogs just like to fight. They’d rather steal your food than go find their own. To their way of thinking, it’s more rewarding.” He glanced up at Walker, then away. “I’m not above snitching somebody else’s bone myself, if I can get away with it without losing a piece of ear in the process. Humans, of course, never do anything like that.”
“Don’t insult me until I’ve admitted to something,” Walker chided his friend. He looked back at Sehblidd. “Your people have weapons. Advanced ones, from what little I’ve seen and learned about such things. You have local and planetary entities that are organized to handle law enforcement. Seems to me you could put together an army pretty quick.”
Sehblidd tilted his head back to meet the eyes of the much taller human. “It would be counterproductive. Small arms are little use against weapons that can be launched from space. There have been, in the past, discussions about building armed satellites with which to surprise our tormentors. That technology is not beyond us. But the one time we offered armed resistance, we were badly defeated. The consequences were terrible. If we were to try to employ something like mobile, weaponized satellites and even one Iollth ship were to escape such a counterattack, it could rain incalculable destruction down on Hyff that we would not be able to defend against.” His dark eyes glistened. “Or worse, it could flee, and return with a much larger force that would not be surprised a second time, at even greater cost.” He looked away, letting his short arms fall to his sides.
“The general consensus is that it is better to allow the Iollth their infrequent incursions, tolerate their brief depredations, and fulfill their demands, than to risk devastation on a far greater scale.”
“I’m familiar with that philosophy,” Walker murmured softly. “It’s part of the history of my kind, too. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”
“We have adapted to the necessity,” Mardalm told him, speaking up for the first time. “That is the situation now. It has been stable, if uncomfortably so, for many thousands of day-slices.”
“And you’re overdue for a visit from these merry marauders?” George inquired again.
Sehblidd gestured positively once more. “Hence our reaction at your arrival in our system. We are visited so rarely by space-going species, and it has been so long since the last Iollth incursion, that we were certain you were them. Or their friends, or allies.”
“What you folks need,” George declared as he sniffed intently at an aromatically attractive bush before a frowning Walker nudged him away, “are a couple of big dogs of your own. The techno-military equivalent of a mastiff on one side of you and a rottweiler on the other.”
Confused, Sehblidd and Ussakk fiddled with their translating units. It was left to the linguist Mardalm to try to interpret. “I believe the quadruped George is referring to large, powerful creatures from his own domain. The analogy is clear, even if the biology is unreferenceable.”
They were approaching the shallow artificial lake that lay in the center of the gardens. Search as he would, Walker was unable to espy a plant or blade of growth that was out of place. Even in their landscaping, it seemed, the Hyfft were orderly to a fault.
“Of course,” Sehblidd ventured unexpectedly as they continued their stroll, “if we were to have the aid of the aforementioned ‘big dogs’ in the form of armed space-going craft that had the ability to confront the Iollth on their own terms, resistance might be possible. As you already know, we have no such vessels, nor the ability to construct them, nor the inclination to pilot them.” Bright black eyes locked onto Walker’s own. “Other species, however, do.”
Walker halted and stared down at the diminutive delegate. Ussakk the Astronomer and Mardalm the Linguist were eying him with equal intensity, he noted. So was George, though more out of casual curiosity than with intensity.
“Are you asking for our help?” were the first words out of Marcus’s mouth.
Ever the diplomat, Sehblidd kept his whiskers carefully parallel to the ground. “It was your companion who brought up the need for the weak to seek out strong allies.”
“My companion has a big mouth.” Walker glared down at George with an expression that said clearly, That’s right—put me in the middle.
“In the first place,” he told the trio of suddenly very attentive Hyfft, “we’re trying to get home. Involving ourselves in an ongoing armed conflict between two other species wouldn’t exactly hasten us on our way.”
“Certainly true,” agreed the respectful Sehblidd.
“In the second place, this isn’t a military expedition.”
“But you travel with individual weapons and armor. Surely your ships carry armament as well?” Ussakk asked.
“Yes, they do, but they’re for defensive purposes only,” Walker countered protectively.
“Understandable,” agreed the ever amenable delegate, whiskers locked rigidly in place.
“And lastly,” Walker concluded, “that kind of decision isn’t up to me. It lies with Commander-Captain Gerlla-hyn and the captains and staff o
f the three Niyyuuan starships who are trying to help us find our way home.”
“Of course,” Sehblidd acknowledged without argument.
“Besides which,” George added forcefully, intrigued at the direction conversation had taken, “you don’t even know when these Iollth are liable to hit you again. Could be next week, could be next century. Even if we and our pack friends had a collective attack of temporary insanity, we can’t hang around here waiting for them to put in an appearance. When I suggested you needed strong allies, I meant allies who’d be available to assist you all the time. Not casual passersby like ourselves.” He looked up at Walker. “After the celebrations and the exchange of mutual howdy-dos are over, we’re out of here. Right, Marc? Marc?”
“What? Oh, sorry, George. I was just thinking.”
“Well, don’t,” the dog instructed him. “It tends to get us into trouble. Unless you’re thinking about cooking. And sometimes that gets us into trouble, too.”
“Then you won’t help us?” Sehblidd murmured. Three pairs of dark eyes continued to gaze mournfully up at the tall human.
“Look,” Walker finally told them, after what an increasingly uneasy George felt was far too long a pause, “even if the decision was made to do so, what makes you think we’d have anything to defend? Your own people would have to agree to stand up and fight. You just said that your people had ‘adapted to the necessity.’”
“Adapted, yes,” Sehblidd told him, and this time the tips of his white whiskers arced noticeably forward. “But that does not mean any of them are happy about it. It is an accommodation that was forced on us because we have not been able to see any other alternative. Offered one…” He let the implication hang in the air.
“We’re on our way home,” Walker informed them decisively. “We’ve no idea how long it’s going to take us to get there, or even if we’ll be successful in the attempt. We may have to give up and return to Niyu, the world of our hosts. We can’t stay here, waiting to help you defend yourselves against an assault that may not come in any of our lifetimes.”
“You could train us,” Ussakk declared.
“What?” Walker turned to the astronomer.
“You could train us. Show us how to best organize ourselves for a planetary defense against what is a technologically superior but small attacking force. Perhaps leave us with some advanced weapons, or the schematics for the same that we could try to build ourselves. The Hyfft are not innovators in such things, but we are very good copyists and fabricators.” Moving close, he rested one small four-fingered hand on the human’s right wrist.
“I am not saying such an effort would make any difference. It may very well be that the Great Government would decide not to employ the results of such training and gifts, and choose to continue appeasing the Iollth. But it would at least provide a possible alternative. We would reward such an effort on your part with everything at our disposal.”
“You’ve been wonderful hosts,” Walker told him. “But as I’ve said, a decision of this magnitude isn’t up to me.” He glared warningly at George, but this time the dog stayed silent. “Training and the designs for advanced weapons, hmm? Supplying both would still take time. I don’t know…”
Both Sehblidd and Mardalm came up to him. Echoing the gesture of the astronomer Ussakk, each placed one hand on his left or right wrist. “Please, at least put the matter before those in a position to make such a decision,” the bureaucrat implored him. “If you cannot do this, we will of course understand.” He stepped back, as did his two companions.
They continued their tour of the gardens. Nothing more was said about the request that had so unexpectedly been put forth. It didn’t have to be. Both of Walker’s wrists tingled with the memory of those small, clutching fingers.
If only, he thought angrily, the Hyfft weren’t so damn selfless.
“Madness!” Tentacles fanned out neatly around the base of her body like the spokes of a wheel, Sque focused silvery eyes on Walker and edged closer to the rear of the landscaped pond that had been installed in their quarters solely for her use. “Can it be that your simple mind has so soon forgotten the very reason for our presence here?”
“I agree with the squid.” Brusque as always, George promptly plumped himself down on a nearby pillow.
Walker eyed them both. “I’m as anxious to be on our way as both of you are. But if we’re going to ask these people for their help in finding Tuuqalia, how can we turn down their request that we help them?”
“Watch me.” Rolling over on his pillow, George commenced snoring; loudly, pointedly, and mockingly.
Sque was more fulsome, if less visual, in her objections. “They are not the same thing, Marcus. You know they are not. In nowise is asking for assistance in preparing a vector equivalent to helping an entire species prepare for war.”
“For defense,” Walker argued. “You’ve seen some of this world. These are good folk. They don’t deserve what these Iollth do to them on a regular basis.”
The K’eremu raised four appendages. “None of us deserved to be forcibly abducted from our homeworlds, but we were. None of us deserve to live in a universe that is, save for the occasional pinprick of a partially oxygenated world, harsh, cold, and deadly—but we do. Had we not come along, life here would have proceeded, for better or worse, exactly as it always had. It is not incumbent on us to expend time and effort to change that.” Metal gray eyes searched his face.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Not for the first time, Walker found himself thoroughly irritated by the K’eremu’s unrelenting assurance. “Maybe it is because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Ah, so now the truth comes out.” Maroon tentacles waved in the air. “Ethics trump practicality. A noble, but ultimately misplaced gesture.”
“Not from the standpoint of the Hyfft,” he shot back.
She crawled halfway out of her pond, water dripping from her tentacles and turning her slick skin shiny under the overhead lights. “Might I have the temerity to remind you that we each of us have our own viewpoints regarding this matter, and that they do not necessarily coincide with the needs of the fatuous aliens who happen to be our present hosts?”
“I can’t get you to agree to this,” he muttered unhappily.
“That’s for sure.” George had rolled onto his back and was regarding his friend unblinkingly.
“And it’s true,” a disappointed Walker conceded, “that Gerlla-hyn and his staff would also have to agree. They might balk at a proposal like this no matter what we here decide.”
“I think we should help these Hyfft, without question.”
All eyes turned to the back of the single, expansive chamber. Braouk reposed there, his massive body squatting on four tree-like lower limbs, his eyestalks fully extended in opposite directions.
“Why?” George demanded to know, sitting up on his haunches. “Because ‘it’s the right thing to do’?”
“That,” the giant Tuuqalian admitted, “and also because it will inspire our hosts to work as hard and as long as possible to discover the information we seek.”
The dog snorted. “Easy for you to say, when it’s your world they have by far the best chance of locating.”
“Find Tuuqalia and it becomes easier to find your Earth,” Braouk reminded the dog. “And,” he added as one stalk-mounted eye swiveled slightly, “K’erem.”
“Perhaps,” admitted Sque as she climbed fully out of her pond. Drawing herself up to her full height of a meter and a third, she focused her attention on the lone human. “It might also get us killed. According to our hosts, these near-mythical Iollth are overdue to lavish their inimical attentions on this world, are they not?”
Walker nodded, knowing that the K’eremu was now wholly familiar with the gesture. “That’s what the Hyfft have been telling us.”
“Then it is not inconceivable that should we linger among them for a while, we might still be here when they arrive, and find ourselves caught in the middle of a resultant conf
lict that is none of our business and is not in our interests.”
George nodded shrewdly. “That might just be what our furry little friends are counting on. That Sehblidd character already as much as asked us to intervene directly. I don’t trust him. Too clever by a tail.”
“We already declined to do that,” Walker reminded him. “Sehblidd immediately downgraded their request to one for training and the loan of arms or armament schematics. That shouldn’t take very long to supply.”
“Long enough to get us killed,” Sque pointed out, “if these beings arrive while we are still here.” Her eyes glittered. “You fail to make your case, friend Marcus. I believe you would fail to make it to Commander-Captain Gerlla-hyn and his staff as well.”
They were evenly divided, Walker saw, with himself and Braouk arguing for lending assistance while Sque and George stood against it. It was time to put forth more than words on behalf of his position.
Turning, he extracted a small communicator unit and spoke into it softly. “You can come in now, Ussakk.”
“More begging?” Sque hissed derisively as she scuttled unhurriedly back into her pond. “More pleading?”
“No,” Walker countered as he watched the Hyfftian astronomer enter from the far side of the refurbished warehouse. “I think, a little history.”
Halting before the much larger human, Ussakk had to crane his neck to meet the other biped’s eyes. “I thank you for this opportunity. Sehblidd explained to me what was needed, and helped to requisition the pertinent materials.” Gesturing with his whiskers toward the other occupants of the high-ceilinged chamber, he began unlimbering the equipment strapped to his back. “This should only take a day-fragment to prepare. Please bear with me.”
George sniffed, but this time as much out of curiosity as disdain. “As if we were in a hurry to go somewhere.”
The Candle of Distant Earth Page 6
