Zev pushed off to the ceiling and rebounded to the doorway. Satoshi floated to Victoria’s side. Europa and Androgeos joined them; Stephen Thomas followed last.
“Are those things in your hair really alive?” Zev asked Europa.
“Yes, young ichthyocentaur.”
“I’m not part fish,” Zev said. “And I’m not that young!”
Europa smiled. “You are to me.”
Stephen Thomas’s hair came loose again. He gathered it up at the back of his neck and shoved the tangled strands down the neck of his t-shirt. The soft loose fabric would not hold it. It came loose again and drifted in front of his eyes.
“Fuck it!” he said angrily. “Is there a pair of scissors on board?”
“Don’t cut your hair!” Victoria stopped, embarrassed by the strength of her outburst.
“Take this, Stephen Thomas,” Europa said. She drew one of the silver worms from her hair.
“What the hell for?”
She teased it around her finger. It wrapped snugly, searching with its biting end for something to grasp.
“To hold back your hair. You’ll break Victoria’s heart if you cut it, and your fussing is driving me crazy.”
Stephen Thomas looked at the silver worm.
“Do they disturb you as much as they do J.D.?”
He shrugged. “Interesting critter.”
She drew the worm across the nape of his neck. The worm coiled around his hair, keeping it in place. The biter clamped its jaws onto a few strands of hair.
“That’s better,” Europa said.
“How do I get it out?”
“Tease it, stroke it. It will relax.”
Stephen Thomas fingered the thin silver strand.
“Do you want it, or not?” Europa asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Stephen Thomas said. “Thanks.”
Victoria wondered how it would feel to tease the silver worm out of Stephen Thomas’s hair. But Satoshi looked ill.
The airlock clanged. Victoria forgot the silver worm.
o0o
The Farthings and all their baggage piled into the Chi’s airlock, crowding the small chamber. J.D. edged in after them Late floated from Sharphearer’s back, his spines undulating out of his coat and beneath his fur, scarily close. J.D. believed that his poison would not harm her. But she also believed those long sharp spines could give a painful jab.
“Goodbye,” J.D. said to the Farthings who had accompanied them down the connecting tunnel. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”
The hatch closed, sealing off the Chi from the Four Worlds ship.
Orchestra, the artificial intelligence from Largernearer, popped into view.
“May I go with you?”
“Of course,” J.D. said.
Outside, the connector tunnel released itself from the Chi. Light streamed through the port. The Chi hummed faintly, its engines gentling it away from the Four Worlds ship. It powered toward Starfarer, a few minutes distant.
The airlock hatch opened into the Chi. J.D. ushered her companions into the explorer craft.
Europa and Androgeos joined the quartet and embraced them, one by one and all together. The trills and hums of the Largerfarthings’ language shimmered in the air.
Zev met J.D., grabbed her hands as he sailed past, and drew her into a slow spin. Diplomatic restraint was foreign to him, and J.D. was glad of it. He pulled himself closer to her. The speed of their spin increased. J.D. hugged him, laughing. The quartet watched, tangled together in a similar conglomerate. Longestlooker’s low trilling hum tickled the lower ranges of J.D.’s hearing.
She touched the wall to slow the spin. Zev slid his hands down her arms, hooking his fingertips with hers till they were barely touching, rotating very slowly. Finally he let her go. He caught himself against the wall and used up his momentum with his legs. He hovered, smiling, watching, fascinated by the quartet.
J.D. hugged Victoria, but instead of an embrace she received a brief, cool touch of Victoria’s cheek to hers. She drew back, startled, thinking, I stepped over a line, I know Victoria’s more proper in public than Zev is. Of course, almost anyone is more proper in public than Zev is.
Like J.D., Zev missed the casual, continual physical contact among the divers and the orcas of his family.
Regaining her composure, a composure Victoria had never lost, J.D. introduced the other members of the alien contact department.
Victoria offered her hands to Longestlooker. The two touched. Longestlooker raised her chin and ducked her nose thoughtfully.
“I’m honored to meet you,” Longestlooker said. “It’s rare, and wonderful, when new members bring a unique contribution to Civilization.”
“I hope Earth will be allowed to join Civilization,” Victoria said evenly, “so we can all share our work.”
“We all anticipate a favorable result,” Longestlooker said. “And we’re anxious to appreciate what you’ve done.”
“And use it,” Stephen Thomas said.
J.D. flinched, but Victoria’s lips twitched in a quick smile.
“Yes.” Longestlooker closed her eyes slowly from outer corners to inner. “We have our practical side.”
“Perhaps you’re wise to wait,” Quickercatcher said.
“We want to proceed on a basis of trust and goodwill,” Sharphearer said.
“We’d like to proceed as members of Civilization,” Satoshi said. “That won’t be till our solar system regains its access to the cosmic string. Till we can come and go freely from our home.”
Quickercatcher made a figure-eight of agreement.
o0o
Esther Klein bounded over the craters of Nautilus, moving easily in the low gravity. Soon the bright orange top of the excursion tent rose above the starship’s curving horizon.
The tent was a windowed elongated orange dome with an airlock projection, like half a giant squash. Liftoff scars and bootprints scuffed the dust around it, marring the pristine surface. In a million years, J.D. was the first being to visit Nemo.
Esther lengthened her stride. She would be glad to get back. She bounced completely over one big crater. She was tired and hungry. Before leaving the expedition tent, she had watched J.D.’s first encounter with the Four Worlds. She was rapt, like everyone else on the expedition.
But Nautilus fascinated her. As soon as the quartet cuddled down with J.D., Esther had hurried outside to explore Nautilus. Now she was hurrying back, to watch the Four Worlds’ first encounter with Starfarer.
Starfarer’s sail rose over the horizon.
The spin of Nautilus and Starfarer’s orbital motion brought the enormous sail, the gossamer lines, and the double cylinders of the starship into view.
The stellar sail lay edge-on to 61 Cygni. Iphigenie Dupre, the sailmaster, wanted to be sure the push of the stellar wind did not conflict with the gravitational attraction of Nautilus. To avoid the stress of furling the sail, she oriented it to cut the wind instead of catching it.
Reflected light illuminated the silver sail, turning it into an immense mirror. On its surface, a reflection of Nautilus shimmered behind the minuscule reflection of Starfarer’s double cylinders.
Esther watched, awed, as the starship rose farther above the horizon and passed overhead. The mirrored images crossed the surface of the sail, then disappeared, as the sail’s angle to her changed. For a few minutes the sail reflected stars. Then it was directly overhead, edge-on to her as well as to 61 Cygni, visible only as a silver streak.
She raised one hand toward the starship.
“Doing okay?” A disembodied voice spoke to her through her suit radio.
Esther smiled.
“Yes,” she said, replying to Infinity Mendez through the personal channel. “Watching the sights. I didn’t think anyone would see me wave.”
“I’ve got your transmissions running,” Infinity said. “Quite a change, from when J.D. was there. Before Nemo died.”
“Yeah.”
When Nemo wa
s alive, the planetoid teemed with Nemo’s attendants, strange creatures that draped the caverns with iridescent silk, created the air, maintained the complex network that was either an ecosystem or Nemo’s body, depending on the observer’s point of view.
“How about you?” Esther asked.
“Okay so far,” he said. “I miss your help. And Kolya’s. And I plain miss you.”
“Thanks, Kenny,” she said. “Me too.”
When Infinity Kenjiro Yanagihara y Mendoza had joined the deep space expedition, he decided to stop being Kenny Yanagihara and start being Infinity Mendez. No one ever called him Kenny anymore. Except Esther, once in a while, for old times’ sake...
It surprised him; he took a moment to reply.
“See you soon,” he said.
“I hope.”
As Starfarer dropped toward the horizon, the edge of 61 Cygni flared above the rough edge of a crater. Esther’s faceplate darkened against the light.
She reached the tent, entered the airlock, and waited for the pressure to equalize. The interior door opened. Esther stepped through it, unfastening her helmet and pulling it off over her short curly hair.
“Hi, I’m back, you should see — Oh.”
Holographic images filled the main room of the tent, nearly hiding Kolya.
Awfully crowded in here, Esther thought, considering that Kolya always describes himself as a hermit.
Some of the images moved aside. Beyond them, Kolya Cherenkov sprawled in one of the air-tube chairs, all lanky limbs and angles.
He raised one hand in greeting. His smile deepened the lines at the corners of his dark eyes and made his striped eyebrows look even bushier than usual.
The largest image had not moved. It sat before Kolya, bringing the real-time presence of Griffith into the tent.
“Sorry,” Esther said to Kolya. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re welcome to join us.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got some work to do.”
Esther disliked Griffith. He was in the employ of the people who had tried to disrupt the deep space expedition. She believed that if he ever got the chance to make Starfarer return to Earth, he would take it.
She tried to avoid him, but that was tough. Esther had volunteered to help Infinity, and so had Kolya. They worked together frequently. Griffith tagged around after Kolya all the time.
I can understand admiring Kolya, Esther thought. Join the club, Griffith. But don’t act like a puppy dog.
Esther wished she had entered the tent in silence. Then Griffith would not even know she had returned. Now she had to make an appearance in the transmission area, or be directly rude. She considered rudeness, but decided not to make Kolya uncomfortable.
“Hello, Griffith,” she said.
“Yeah,” he replied, and went right back to his conversation with Kolya. “There’s no sign that the Four Worlds ship is staging an invasion,” he said. “I don’t like the idea of letting them on board Starfarer. If they try to take Nautilus... I’m keeping a lookout, don’t worry.”
Disgusted, Esther left the focus of the tent’s transmission spot.
So much for being civil, she thought. Why do I even try? And he’s so damned paranoid... On the other hand, if we all didn’t feel a little paranoid about Nautilus, Kolya and I wouldn’t be standing in for J.D. in the first place.
She stripped off the rest of her suit and sat down to clean it. She was tired, but she was too pissed off to sleep. She felt sticky and she wanted a shower, but if she had to go outside in a hurry she wanted her suit clean even more.
“I doubt the Four Worlds will be so inhospitable as to invade Nautilus, Petrovich,” Kolya said. “They would risk their representatives, besides.”
“That’s a small price to pay for a starship,” Griffith said. “Anyway I’m going to keep watch.”
What the hell for? Esther wondered. Starfarer’s unarmed — unless Griffith sneaked some ordnance on board, and I wouldn’t put it past him, in which case we’re in even more trouble. We could use Nautilus as a great big wrecking ball, but... what a waste.
“Thank you for your vigilance,” Kolya said to Griffith, sounding perfectly serious. “I’ll speak with you later.”
Griffith’s image faded from the center of the room, clearing some space. Esther felt relieved.
I try to be civil to him because I’m scared of him, she admitted to herself. Because he is scary, when he lets that undercurrent of danger show, when he isn’t making himself invisible.
Usually he acted as if Esther and everybody else on board Starfarer was invisible too, not worth bothering about, no threat. Except Kolya, of course.
Maybe, Esther thought, I ought to ignore him and let myself be invisible.
She wondered what it would be like to go through life like that, ignoring everyone who could not be of direct use or direct threat, pretending to be of no interest to anyone. She did not think she would like it much.
So far she had avoided any direct disputes with Griffith. She had been in her share of scuffles, even a few real fights. She had always been able to take care of herself. But she had never been in a physical confrontation with someone who had serious training. Griffith did not brag, did not show off, did not even mention his background. But Esther had no intention of testing him.
“I apologize for his rudeness,” Kolya said.
Kolya smelled of stale tobacco. She had not seen him smoke since they had come to Nautilus. An open flame was not a particularly safe thing to have in an expedition tent, with hard vacuum a few layers of fabric away.
Esther applied a trickle of lubricant to one of her spacesuit’s stress points. After she had tested the range of motion, she shrugged.
“You’re not responsible for Griffith’s behavior,” she said. “No reason for you to apologize.”
She wondered what Kolya was doing about his nicotine addiction. Not smoking made him sick. Cigarette smoke made Esther sick; stale smoke was even worse.
“But I am responsible for his presence,” Kolya said.
Esther chuckled. Infinity Mendez had told her about finding Griffith trapped in an emergency pouch, where Kolya had left him.
“Ah,” Kolya said. “You know what happened. I wasn’t sure if you’d heard the story.”
“Infinity probably would have kept his mouth shut, if Griffith hadn’t threatened him about talking to anybody. Infinity’s a lot more stubborn that most people think, and prouder. Griffith’s not too smart, I think.”
“He’s as smart as any of us. Maybe not Victoria, or Miensaem. But as smart as the rest of us. He has a different viewpoint. And conflicting loyalties.”
“He’s a spy!”
“A guerrilla accountant,” Kolya said.
Esther laughed. “Guerrilla accountant?”
“He says he is an accountant.”
“And you believe him?”
“I believe... what he tells me. I might not be so quick to accept what he told anyone else.”
The deep lines in Kolya’s face, and his brindled hair, fascinated Esther. She wanted to ask him if they were the result of living in space for so many years. She respected and admired him. There was hardly a pilot in space who did not admire Cosmonaut Cherenkov.
“Why do you call Griffith ‘Petrovich’?” she asked instead.
“An old custom from my homeland,” Kolya said. “The custom has probably disappeared as thoroughly as the country.”
Esther wished she had not said anything; she had brought up a subject far more painful than the effects of solar radiation on hair follicles.
“The Mideast Sweep banned the Russian language when they took over,” Kolya said. “Perhaps no one uses patronymics anymore. I call Griffith by his patronymic, he calls me by mine. By chance, they’re the same.”
“Why not call him by his given name?”
“He doesn’t like it.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll have to ask him that.”
Pr
ovoked, she touched Arachne and asked for information. She got nothing back but the passenger list of an incoming transport that she herself had flown. It recorded only his initials, his job — his cover — with the Government Accountability Office.
Griffith was not a member of the deep space expedition, so his résumé was not on file. He was on board now by mistake, along with two United States senators and the niece of the U.S. president, carried away when Starfarer fled the order to turn it into an orbiting weapons platform. And fled the military carrier sent to enforce the order.
“We owe him some respect, my friend,” Kolya said.
“Respect! He was spying on us. He —”
“He would have sacrificed himself to try to help us.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I wouldn’t let him. That’s why he was in the survival pouch. I put him there to keep him from throwing himself out the airlock.”
“Why?”
“Why did I stop him?” Kolya asked, startled.
“No — why did you have to?”
“He thought the carrier might end its pursuit. He thought it would stop chasing us to rescue him.” Kolya hesitated. “I feared it would not do so.”
“You were probably right,” Esther said curtly. She knew most of the people on the carrier; many had been her friends, until they ordered her not to disembark from Starfarer with her transport full of people. They had fired the nuclear missile. Only Kolya and J.D.’s actions had kept the missile from destroying Starfarer.
Esther still felt embarrassed and guilty about obeying the order not to undock.
“The expedition has reason to be suspicious of him,” Kolya said. “And he’s certainly alienated enough of its members. Florrie, for instance, and Stephen Thomas, not to mention you and Infinity. He’s not a hero in wolf’s clothing. But like most people, he has heroic potential.”
“Why would he want to help the expedition? He tried to destroy it!”
“As I said... conflicting loyalties.”
“He did it for you.” It was the only reason that made any sense.
“He tried,” Kolya said, troubled.
“Then he’s not a complete bonehead — somebody got through to him.”
“I wish that was true,” Kolya said. “I wish he had heard me out, and considered, and decided I was right. Instead, he divined what I wanted — what he thought I wanted — and he tried to make it occur.”
The Starfarers Quartet Omnibus Page 105
