Nor Crystal Tears

by Foster, Alan Dean;

  Sanchez was right. He badly wanted to return home. But to what? To prison and reconditioning? His own kind had left him with no promises. Here at least he had gained something of a commitment. As to whether that commit­ment would be honored, well ... If he returned home, five humans whom he'd come to like very much would return here to suffer. If he remained to work and cajole and fight for contact, only he could lose.

  As so many things did, it came down to simple mathe­matics.

  Captain Sanchez's hand was poised over the control con­sole, he noticed. A screen showed the small ship that was coming toward them from the station.

  He executed a multiple gesture indicative of fifth degree sardonicism, with fourth degree resignation and just a flavoring of irony. No one, including Bonnie, was sufficiently well versed yet in Thranx to interpret it. Perhaps someday they would be.

  "Let us return. If all of you are willing to trust this Dr. Rijseen, then so am I:"

  "I'll be sure to tell him that," Bhadravati said. "I'll make it a point to tell him to his face."

  "You can tell him yourself, Ryo." Sanchez's fingers danced on the controls.

  The Seeker pirouetted gracefully on its latitudinal axis. Systemwise it was facing inward once again. The thoughts and spirits of its inhabitants were soaring in a different direction entirely.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "'You don't change the destiny of an entire people that quickly. It takes time."

  The man in the azure jumpsuit was waving his hands as he spoke. Ryo thought he could be very fluent in Low Thranx. The human was short and corpulent. His hair was completely white. It descended in waves down his collar. His pink forehead gleamed in the light, almost shiny enough to pass for stained chiton. If I were to press on it, Ryo reminded himself, my finger would not slide off as is normal but would move inward until encountering bone. He shuddered slightly and doubted he would ever grow used to the idea of wearing one's body outside one's skeleton.

  Though he possessed only half the requisite number of limbs, in his metallic attire the man looked very much like a Thranx. He was a part of the hierarchy of the human government, a Secretary of something. His position was not as high as they'd hoped for, but Sanchez and Bonnie had assured Ryo that it was substanial enough. His arrival on Centaurus V, though at night and in comparative secret, had caused something of a stir on that world.

  Several others had come with him or ahead of him, trav­eling the long way from distant Earth to C V and then out to the system border station slowly orbiting C VII. From there they had been escorted by shuttle to the wardroom of the Seeker. Sanchez and her associates, despite repeated assurances of noninterference from Davis and Dr. Rijseen, had chosen to remain on board and in free space. It helped, the captain explained, their peace of mind.

  Rijseen was also present. So were Sanchez and Bonnie. The others were monitoring ship functions and other items of interest. Outside the observation port that domi­nated the wardroom lay the cold dark mass of Centaurus VII, the faint disk of the station itself, and two much smaller spots of light that Sanchez and Taourit had assured Ryo were warships.

  They did not seem to worry the Seeker's captain, who was confident the ship could engage its Supralight drive before either of those motionless warcraft could do her any damage. The warcraft were present mostly to make an im­pression, though whether on Ryo, his human friends, or the visiting dignitaries was hard to say. They could not engage their own drives in their present position without destroy­ing the C VII station and its five thousand inhabitants.

  Debate proceeded in the wardroom of the Seeker in an atmosphere of cordial uncertainty.

  "Of course, I have no authority to commit my people to any kind of formal treaty," Ryo was saying. "I admit that as a representative of my species I stand here unappointed and unanointed. But from all I have observed, all I have experienced, I believe an alliance between our peoples not merely to be desirable but vital."

  One of the human officials spoke up. He was ordinarily silent and said very little. Nor did he seem gifted with un­usual intelligence. Yet his comments were always relevant and to the point.

  "I can understand your use of the term desirable. But 'Vital'? I've been informed that your command of our lan­guage is quite good, and from what I've seen so far I wouldn't dispute that. But are you sure of your use of the word?"

  "Yes. Vital." Ryo added a gesture of maximum emphasis that was lost on his attentive listeners. "Vital for our sur­vival because of the increasing depredations of the AAnn and because our culture badly needs a kick in its gestalt, vital to you for your mental stability."

  Several of the officials stirred uneasily, but the white ­haired man in their midst only laughed. "I've studied the claims you've made for your psychtechs. Alliances are not made by psychologists."

  "Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad change," Sanchez suggested softly.

  The man glared at her. "I understand Mr. Ryoz­ryiez ..."

  "Just Ryo," the Thranx said.

  "I understand your reasoning." He bent to examine pa­pers on the table in front of him, spoke while reading. "It is your contention that a close alliance between and associa­tion of our peoples would be beneficial to the mental health of the human species."

  "I have reasons to believe that to be so," admitted Ryo.

  "So you think you're better than we?"

  "Not better, just different. As I just stated, I believe there are many things you have to offer in return, though doubtless many officials of the government of Hivehom would dispute that."

  "You mentioned a `kick' of some kind," put in another official.

  "Our culture is immensely successful. We have enjoyed interspecies peace for thousands of years. This stability has bred technological success. It has also led to sterility in other areas. Many of your art forms, for example, I find delightful. Your music, your forms of recreation ... there is great energy there, reflective of your racial hys­teria. These are outlets for your cerebral furies. We could be another. It would benefit us both."

  "Then you want to channel us?" the fat man said dan­gerously.

  "No, no!" Ryo struggled to convey his exasperation as best he could in human terms, without the use of gestures. It was a constant struggle to talk only with air and not with your limbs and body. "I don't want to channel you, don't want to see you directed. There is nothing of dominance in this. I don't want us to do anything for you, or to you. Only with you."

  "With us." The official considered. "A fine sentiment, but by your own admission it will be difficult to convince your own people of that."

  "They will be frightened of you at first, as they were of the crew of this ship. As I was. We must overcome old emotions, all of us. Shape must not interfere with reason. Nor must your psychotic tendencies."

  "We do not have psychotic tendencies." The official was uncomfortable.

  "Talk to your own consultants," Sanchez advised him. "Study human history. We should not be afraid of admit­ting that we are what we are"

  "Consider your own state of mind right this minute," Rijseen added. "Then look at this alien across from you. He is far from home and among what are to him creatures of surpassing ugliness. See how calm he is, how relaxed and at ease."

  That wasn't entirely true, Ryo thought, but he wasn't about to step on the scientist's hypothesis.

  "Would a human placed in the same situation react this way? We know he wouldn't. We know it because Captain Sanchez and her people did not, and they were trained for such confrontation. They kicked and screamed and acted like well, like humans. From my studies I am convinced that Ryo's mental stability is the result not of racial or indi­vidual weakness or fatalism, but of a better understanding of himself."

  "I can see that he's convinced you, at least," the official said.

  "Facts," Bhadravati said softly, "can be most persuasive, sir."

  The official rose and walked toward the large port. He stood and stared silently at the vast dead world below. Th
e star Centaurus (that was not Alpha because of a great mis­take) was a dim, distant point of light. Ryo could see his fingers twisting and entwining in some secret ritual.

  "It's difficult," the man murmured, "very difficult. For example, we have only your word for the supposedly re­lentless hostility of these AAnn."

  "They'll give you ample proof themselves soon enough," Ryo noted.

  "Our records show that the ship that attacked us is dif­ferent from any Thranx vessel we saw," Sanchez told him. "If half of what Ryo says about them is true, they will present a real danger."

  Ryo tried to divine the man's mood by looking at him, but failed utterly. He tried to believe that the continued silence was a sign that the man's indecision was weakening, that despite his uncertainties he was coming around to the side of reason.

  He turned, his fingers still working, silhouetted by a dead world. "I mean no offense damn, I don't know how to put this. There are problems here that logic will not solve. It's simply that "

  "That if I were of a different ancestry," Ryo told him, "everything would be simpler. If I did not look like a big, icky, crawly insect."

  The Secretary looked distinctly uncomfortable as Ryo continued. "I have had ample time to study the phobia most humans have regarding my tiny relatives on your world. We are not properly insects, by your classification system."

  "The general public," the Secretary replied, "is not interested in scientific niceties. You look like something out of many of their worst nightmares."

  "And what about you, Mr. Secretary?" Ryo slid off his saddle and approached. "How do I look to you?" He reached up with both tru and foothands and grasped the lower edge of the man's shirt.

  "Does my touch make your skin crawl? An intriguing phenomenon, by the way. Do I make you want to vomit? Does my smell make you ill?" He let loose of the material. The Secretary hadn't moved.

  "As a matter of fact," he replied calmly, "your smell, of which I was apprised prior to my arrival, is quite as lovely as reported. However, our media systems are not suffi­ciently advanced to convey odiferous stimuli. Only sight and sound. I'm afraid that when it comes to the question of contact, sight will predominate in determining responses."

  Ryo had turned and retaken his saddle. "So you are not optimistic."

  "You have already had an unfortunate encounter with one fanatic, I understand?"

  "Yes. It cost the life of a very dear human friend of mine. I believe the incident proves not the adverse reac­tions my people might provoke, but the opposite. A human has sacrificed his life for mine, grotesque quasi insect though I am."

  "A singular, isolated example involving a man who was a trained explorer. The same reaction cannot be expected from the average human."

  "Or for that matter, the average Thranx," Ryo admitted. "Somehow a solution must be found."

  "I can't see one." The Secretary was not encouraging. "We would have to demonstrate beyond a doubt that our two species could live side by side in harmony and under­standing despite thousands of years of mutual conditioning to the contrary.

  "The best I can realistically offer is a chance to open tentative communications via Deep Space transmissions. Even then I'll have to combat the bigots and paranoids in my own department. But if we exercise caution, with luck and some social maturation we might during the next cou­ple of hundred years "

  "Apologies for interruption, sir." Ryo cut him off sharply. "The AAnn will not wait a couple of hundred years. They will extend their mischief making to include your people. They know just how far they can push, how deeply they can wound. They will try to bleed you to death. When you are weak enough, they will attack. Each day they grow more powerful, more confident. For the sake of both our species we must strike an alliance now. That can­not be done through cautious, long range transmissions."

  A successful politician knows when to be tactful and when to be truthful. The Secretary was very successful.

  "Unfortunately, the facts exist. We cannot alter our shape any more than you can alter yours. I can see no quick way to prove species compatibility."

  "I have given much thought to the problem," Ryo re­plied. "I had hoped not to have to make the proposal I will now lay before you all. It is a bit well, theatrical. My friend Wuuzelansem would approve the form if not the content. It is all I can think of, however. It will settle the question of compatibility permanently, I should think.

  "If the operation becomes known, it will be condemned with many expressions of outrage and horror by both our peoples. I fully expect all of you," and he gestured around the room, "to react in similar fashion as I explain. I entreat you to let me finish, and to consider what I say calmly and reasoningly. I ask you to put instinctive passions aside while considering the larger issues we are dealing with here. With success will come admiration and vindication. Failure would mean dishonor and much worse for all in­volved."

  "I don't like choices that offer only extremes. I prefer to remain in the middle," the Secretary murmured.

  "There is no middle here, sir. Are you not risk takers? Do you humans not like to dance with the laws of chance?"

  "We've been known to do so now and then," one of the other government officials commented drily.

  "Then I shall detail my thoughts. I request only that you do not reject until I have finished." At least, he thought, I have gained their full attention. Having acquired consider­able wisdom during the past years, however, he was not sanguine about the chances for acceptance.

  "Now then," he began briskly, "if I have studied your customs efficiently I believe I am not wrong in saying that you look unfavorably upon kidnaping and infanticide ..."

  The world that hove into view on the screen was so ach­ingly familiar that Ryo found himself shaking.

  "Are you all right, Ryo?" Bonnie stared back at him from her seat.

  "I am. It's only that I hadn't expected so powerful a reaction." As he stared the misty white green globe swelled to fill the entire screen. They were diving at it very fast, as was planned. "I thought myself sufficiently detached, re­moved to a point where such mundane instincts would not affect me. That is clearly not the case. I feel rather numbed."

  "I understand." She watched him sympathetically. "We are subject to the same emotions. We call it homesickness." She lifted her gaze to the small screen. They were in Ryo's quarters on board the heavily screened Seeker. She wiped the ever present sweat from her forehead. She'd been sit­ting with him for over an hour now and her clothing was soaked. "It's a beautiful world, your Willow wane. Your home."

  "Yes. Most of the. settlement is on the opposite hemi­sphere."

  "Don't worry, Elvira knows what to do. She'll hold this dive and veer back to Space Plus range at the first sign of a probe. Though if what you say is true, that's unlikely to happen."

  "I thinly we will be all right. The additional screening equipment your people installed should give us the elec­tronic appearance of a tiny meteor temporarily drawn into low orbit. Inside five pd's of Hivehom or Warm Nursery we would soon be detected, but there are many dead zones above Willow wane. I believe the Seeker will be able to or­bit undetected long enough to allow us to ferry our material to the surface."

  The door admit chimed and Ryo called, "Enter, please." It slid aside and a gust of cold air from the corridor beyond momentarily chided him. Bonnie moved her arms grate­fully in the brief breeze.

  A small human walked into the room. Ryo studied it with his usual fascination. Humans knew no larval stage, did not experience the terror and wonder and glory of meta­morphosis. Like many mammals, they were born into the shape they would have for their whole life.

  They did not have the benefit of an extended learning period in which to rest and absorb knowledge. Instead they were thrust immediately into a highly competitive adult en­vironment. Though no psychtech, Ryo believed this un­happy arrangement had much to do with the species' para­noia and belligerence.

  The larva no, he corrected himself, the male child­ was
named Matthew. He stopped next to Bonnie, lifted his hand instinctively. She took it in her own.

  "Is that where we're going, Ms. Thorpe?" Ryo noted that though he held his other hand in his mouth he was not using his mandibles to clean the fingers. The habit, he'd been told, had a psychological rather than practical pur­pose.

  "Yes, that's where we're going, Matthew. Isn't it pretty?" She bent over to put her face at his level. Both regarded the viewscreen.

  "It looks kinda like home," he said.

  "Most inhabitable planets look alike."

  "What's `inhabitibitible' mean?"

  "Inhabitable," she corrected him. "It means we can usually live there."

  "It looks like a lime sundae. How long will we be there?"

  "Not so very long."

  Matthew thought a moment, squinted at the screen. "When will I see Mommy and Daddy again?"

  Bonnie hesitated, then smiled maternally. "After school is finished. They know you're away, you know."

  "Yeah, sure."

  "Do you like this school so far?"

  "Oh, yeah!" Sudden excitement suffused his face. "There's lots of neat things to do and tapes to study and neat food and friends! I like it a lot better than my old school. And it's on a starship, too." He screwed his face into a thoughtful frown. "Too many girls, though."

  Bonnie smiled.

  "But it's lots of fun. I never thought school could be so much fun. I'd like to go outside, though. 'Course, I know I can't do that in space, and I don't have a envirosuit."

  "We'll be landing real soon now," she informed him, "and you'll be able to play outside. You'll have new lessons to learn."

  "Oh, that's okay. I don't mind studying. I like school."

  "I know you do, Matthew." She reached out, rumpled his brown curls. "That's one reason why you were chosen to come on the ship for this special term."