The Starfarers Quartet Omnibus

by Vonda N. McIntyre

  Esther shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

  “A great deal, to him and to me. Perhaps not so much to Starfarer.” Kolya sighed.

  Esther hung up her suit.

  “In any event, I’m sorry he was rude to you. I think perhaps he was not brought up very well —”

  She shrugged again. “I don’t care what he thinks about me.”

  “— and he is, of course, furiously jealous.”

  Esther frowned. “Jealous? Of what? Of me?”

  “Of your being here. On Nautilus.”

  “He could’ve come, if he wanted.” She flung her hands up, spreading her arms wide. “I only came because J.D. asked me to. I wanted to see Nautilus, sure — what pilot wouldn’t?”

  “Very few. I couldn’t resist.”

  “But it’s not like either of us can fly it. There’s not even much left to see, since Nemo died. Nothing but a few curled-up shells from the attendants.”

  “And the core.”

  “Yeah. Only I’m not a physicist. Or an engineer. I can’t take the center apart and figure out how it works and put another one together. And I don’t much feel like getting irradiated.”

  “There is that.”

  “So there’s no reason for me to be here. Or you.”

  “Someone must be here.”

  “A couple of warm bodies. So Civilization can’t claim it’s abandoned. Salvage it. Take it away from J.D.”

  “Not much satisfaction to my friend Petrovich.”

  “I’d be a lot more use back on Starfarer. Working with Infinity. God forbid any of the faculty should get their hands dirty.”

  “They would if he asked. They helped you get the artificials back to work.”

  “This is supposed to be a community — he shouldn’t have to ask.” She snorted in frustration. “I suppose I’ll have to read them the riot act. That’s what it took last time.”

  “The point is,” Kolya said, “that J.D. asked you. She didn’t ask Griffith.”

  “He’s not a member of the expedition,” she said. “He —”

  She stopped, realizing the contradiction before Kolya voiced it.

  He drew his eyebrows together in a quizzical glance.

  “Neither are you,” he said.

  “I know, I know, I don’t know why I said that. But it’s different —”

  “Neither am I.” He knitted his eyebrows in a thoughtful look. “It occurs to me, J.D. may have chosen you, and me, for exactly that reason.”

  “Because we’re not members of the expedition?”

  “Because we have no contractual obligation to Starfarer. No matter. She trusts you. She does not trust Petrovich. So he is jealous.”

  “It isn’t my fault — !”

  “But that is the explanation.”

  “He’s a scary guy, Kolya.”

  “I suppose he has that effect,” Kolya said reluctantly.

  “Not to you,” Esther said. She realized what it meant, that Kolya had forced Griffith into the survival pouch. She saw Kolya anew, not as the legendary cosmonaut turned starfaring hermit, but as the former guerrilla fighter who had bested a similarly trained man less than half his age.

  “He’s scary, but you’re not,” she said, with wonder. “Why aren’t you scary?”

  “Because I’m not dangerous.”

  “You could be.”

  “Not to anyone on the expedition. Except perhaps the person who killed Feral.”

  “Yeah,” Esther said. “Me too. I’ve had some pretty awful dreams about what I’d like to do to Chancellor Blades.”

  “The evidence points in his direction, but nothing is proven,” Kolya said.

  “It’s proven enough for me.”

  “Nothing is that simple,” Kolya said. “He has not had his say.”

  “He had a chance to defend himself.”

  “I’m glad he refused,” Kolya said. “What would have happened if Iphigenie had made him admit he was guilty?”

  “Beats me,” Esther said, recalling Jenny Dupre’s first mob, recalling how close she herself had been to joining it. “He’s lucky he’s got the silver slugs to hide behind. He’s lucky that Infinity thought of making him stay in his house.”

  She shivered. The chancellor’s house was blocked up and cut off, isolated by the silver slugs. It was dark, and silent. The chancellor was too dangerous to allow back into Arachne, even if Starfarer’s control computer would have him. The evidence J.D. and Stephen Thomas had discovered was enough for Arachne; the computer had immunized itself against the chancellor’s neural pattern.

  The evidence proved that the chancellor had crashed Arachne twice. Feral had died during the second crash. Maybe Blades had not hunted him down and killed him; maybe his death had been an accident. Blades was still responsible. The chancellor lived in darkness, and loneliness. But for Feral, the darkness and loneliness would last forever.

  Kolya patted Esther gently, awkwardly, on the shoulder. She flinched, and he jerked his hand away.

  “I —”

  “It’s okay,” Esther said quickly. She took his hand and squeezed his long bony fingers. The smell of smoke was pungent, unpleasant. “You startled me, that’s all.”

  “Ah.” He let his hand fall; Esther released him. Her exertions were catching up with her; she yawned.

  “I’d really like to grab a cat-nap,” Esther said. “Just until the Chi gets home.”

  They both glanced at the small hologram being transmitted from the Chi as it approached Starfarer.

  “I’ll call you when it’s time,” Kolya said.

  “Or if anything happens.”

  “Yes.”

  “Thanks.” She had her link set to nudge her, but she appreciated Kolya’s consideration.

  Soundproofed fabric walls segmented the tent into several cubicles. Esther was glad of a place to herself. She kicked off her pants and pulled off her sweaty t-shirt. Feeling drained, she slipped into her sleeping bag and hugged it around her.

  Being in the exploration tent made her appreciate Starfarer, where she could sleep in a bed, with sheets, and open all the windows and doze in the sweet cool breeze, the birdsongs, the scent of rain showers.

  Not to mention blizzards and floods, she reminded herself. That was the trade-off for a dynamic weather system.

  The tent felt stuffy, the air flat.

  Esther stretched and closed her eyes.

  She could not sleep.

  She had been startled by Kolya’s comforting touch. He did not often touch people. But more than that, she had been startled by the pure sexual desire that radiated across her skin when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

  He was attractive. She had always thought so, even when he was a distant, elusive, larger-than-life myth. She had not been prepared for the strength of her reaction.

  Lousy timing, Esther thought. Back on Starfarer, it crossed my mind once or twice to see how he’d react to a pass. Even after I found out about the cigarettes. I don’t know how he’d react to a pass, and I don’t know how I’d react to kissing a smoker. Too much was happening, anyway.

  Now we’re stuck here on Nautilus until... who knows? If I proposition Kolya now — if he’s even interested — talk about a cliché. Two people working alone, and all they can think about is sex.

  Half my friends would fall apart laughing, and the other half would never speak to me again from jealousy.

  I’d probably never live it down.

  o0o

  The Chi decelerated as it approached Starfarer.

  The explorer craft docked easily against the axis of Starfarer’s campus cylinder. The Chi settled; the hatch connected; variations in pressure equalized.

  The hatch opened.

  J.D. and Quickercatcher paused at the entryway. It was as crowded here as it had been in the reception room of the Four Worlds ship. Nearly everyone on board the starship floated in the waiting room, anxious to meet the alien people of the Four Worlds.

  Quickercatcher ducked hi
s head and brushed the side of his neck against J.D.’s arm, a nervous and endearing gesture. Starfarer’s people sighed with a collective intake of breath, and an exhalation.

  Another first time, J.D. thought. The first time anyone except Alien Contact has been able to meet an alien being. Except, of course, anyone could go out on Starfarer’s surface and meet Nemo’s offspring. Not many have.

  Then she thought, Can you meet a being who isn’t born yet? Or is “born” even the right terminology to use about the squidmoth egg?

  Had her colleagues accepted Civilization’s assessment, that the squidmoths were not worth any bother? Androgeos thought the squidmoth nest should be pried off Starfarer and jettisoned. J.D. avoided drawing attention to the nest, afraid others would agree with the Minoan.

  Gerald Hemminge, the Acting Chancellor, floated forward to greet the Four Worlds people. He was, as always, well turned out, wearing a dark suit, linen shirt, leather shoes with a high polish. The impeccable white linen set off his dark skin and hair, his golden brown eyes.

  How can he always wear linen without getting wrinkled? J.D. wondered. Gerald’s clothes were impractical in zero gravity, but he did look elegant.

  “I’m Gerald Hemminge, the acting chancellor of the deep space expedition,” he said to Quickercatcher. “Welcome to Starfarer.”

  “Thank you,” Quickercatcher said.

  J.D. and Quickercatcher floated into the waiting room. Victoria followed with Longestlooker, Satoshi and Stephen Thomas and Zev with Fasterdigger and Orchestra’s artificial intelligence, Androgeos beside Sharphearer and Late. Europa watched from the entryway, like apprehensive chaperones.

  The members of the alien contact department spread out behind J.D. and Quickercatcher. The rest of the faculty and staff of Starfarer, and the two United States senators, hovered in an irregular array behind Gerald and the senators.

  Late rode Sharphearer’s back like the caparison of a show horse. His back edge fluttered; his spines glistened.

  Just behind Gerald, Senator Ruth Orazio carried a ceramic vase, a strangely curved container with a twisting, interconnecting handle and spout. The shape formed the three-dimensional projection of a four-dimensional object, a closed form possessing a single surface, its interior contained by, yet connected to, the exterior. The Klein bottle’s graceful pattern of glazes accentuated its strangeness.

  “We offer you a guest gift of water,” Gerald said.

  Ruth Orazio touched off from the wall at her feet. She moved forward, offering the bottle. William Derjaguin moved beside her.

  J.D. felt uncomfortable. The two senators were not members of the expedition. At best, they were unwilling passengers, at worst hijacking victims.

  The senators had every right to watch the welcome, to attend the meeting. How could they resist? But they were acting as major participants. J.D. thought it was inappropriate. She glanced toward Victoria. Victoria’s shocked expression left very little to the imagination.

  “This is too much,” Quickercatcher said. “You have already reciprocated our guest gift.”

  Ruth Orazio froze. J.D. had a quick sharp shock of apprehension, of something gone wrong. But Longestlooker scooted up beside her and spoke without the edginess that so often colored her voice.

  “It is all right, brother,” she said to Quickercatcher. “We accept the gift in the spirit of its giving.”

  J.D. still felt the introduction had gone awry, but Ruth smiled and opened the vase. In a neat maneuver, she spun it. A globule of water popped from the spout in its side.

  Quickercatcher hesitated, glanced at Longestlooker, then stretched his long muscular neck and snapped the globule between his sharp teeth. A few bright drops glistened in the fur of his muzzle.

  “The water is very pure,” he said formally.

  Orazio handed the Klein bottle to Derjaguin. He spun it, releasing another blob of guest water.

  The quartet drank some of the water. Late rose and captured a sphere of water, balancing it against his teeth and his radula

  punctured a ball with his sharp teeth. Orchestra swam through a loose spray of droplets. Longestlooker accepted the bottle and freed the water left in it for everyone to drink.

  Gerald introduced the Four Worlds representatives to the faculty and staff and to the images of Esther Klein and Nikolai Petrovich Cherenkov, projected from the surface of Nautilus. J.D. shared her colleagues’ reactions, re-experiencing delight and amazement, curiosity and trepidation.

  Gerald introduced Longestlooker to Professor Thanthavong, who was losing her usual equanimity; she pressed her sleeve against her eyes to stop tears of elation.

  “Professor Thanthavong is a Nobel laureate. That’s our greatest scientific honor. She developed a way of combating viruses, and she stopped a terrible plague.”

  Longestlooker raised her chin, then ducked her head, and made the soft trilling purr of pleasure.

  “We of the Four Worlds have great respect for scholars,” she said.

  “I never dared believe I’d see this day, meet someone from another world — I’m honored.”

  “We are honored, too,” Longestlooker said.

  When Florrie Brown was introduced, she took Longestlooker’s powerful hand and enclosed it between her palms, her fingers shaky and frail. Longestlooker gazed at Florrie and closed her eyes from outer to inner corners in friendly amusement. In the meantime Quickercatcher hovered near them, inspecting Florrie’s three long braids with interest. Florrie was the only human in the room whose hair was as flamboyant as Quickercatcher’s fur: one braid pink, one green, the third natural white, all three plaited with beads and bells.

  Longestlooker gracefully extricated her hand from Florrie’s, and moved on. When J.D. glanced back, Quickercatcher and Florrie Brown were trading hair ornaments.

  The representatives moved among Starfarer’s faculty and staff and guests: Orazio and Derjaguin; Iphegenie Dupre the sailmaster and Chandra the sensory artist; Avvaiyar Prakesh the astronomer and Infinity Mendez the gardener. All the graduate students, including Mitch and Lehua and Bay who worked for Stephen Thomas, and Fox who was in Satoshi’s department. Griffith, who in a moment of uncharacteristic straightforwardness had recently described himself as a guerrilla accountant. Esther and Kolya, back on board Nautilus; they welcomed Orchestra’s virtual presence with their own.

  Drifting at the edge of the crowd, J.D. enjoyed watching the encounters. Stephen Thomas floated nearby, withdrawn and distracted. J.D. was worried about him.

  Gerald Hemminge moved free of the crowd clustered around the Largerfarthings. He gave Stephen Thomas a disdainful glance.

  “I must say this, Stephen Thomas,” he said. “Don’t you ever think of dressing adequately — let alone properly — for any occasion?”

  Stephen Thomas looked through him, then brought his attention to Gerald with an angry snap of his head.

  “Fuck off, Gerald.”

  He kicked off hard with both feet, flew over the edge of the crowd of his colleagues, and arrowed out the waiting-room door.

  Gerald watched him go, grimaced with disbelief and distaste, then turned to J.D.

  “Quite a successful meeting, I’d say.”

  “It was until a minute ago,” J.D. said, but Gerald ignored the implication.

  “And do you think,” Gerald said, “that they’ll agree to return with us to Earth?”

  “No, Gerald,” she said. “Why do we keep having this conversation?”

  “For one thing, because Nemo would have agreed if he — she — if it hadn’t been entering metamorphosis.”

  “You can’t keep asking members of Civilization to strand themselves in our solar system.”

  “We have no choice. We have to prove aliens exist.”

  “Why are you so anxious to go home?” J.D. asked. “If we’re patient, the string might return to our system.”

  “It’s selfish of you to stand in the way —”

  “I don’t think I’m alone —”

 
; “— just because of Nautilus.”

  J.D. frowned. “What does Nautilus have to do with anything?”

  Gerald glanced at her quizzically. “You’ll have to turn it over to EarthSpace, of course,” he said.

  She stared at him, shocked. “What — ?”

  “It’s in your contract,” he said.

  “Nautilus was a gift.”

  “Come now, J.D.”

  Gerald’s upper-class condescension made her grit her teeth.

  “You know perfectly well,” he said, “that as an EarthSpace representative, you aren’t permitted to accept valuable gifts. It would be a conflict of interest.”

  Nautilus is mine, she thought desperately. She could not think of anything to say.

  “And here’s Crimson Ng,” Gerald said heartily. “At last!” He pushed off from wall and floated toward the artist, leaving J.D. without a backward glance.

  Orchestra’s AI vanished from one side of the room and reappeared directly before Crimson, who started with surprise. All four members of the quartet arrowed toward her, and even Late stirred himself to rise up and watch her with animated interest.

  “You’re the archaeologist —” Longestlooker said.

  “— who found the fossils —” Quickercatcher said.

  “— that Androgeos showed us!” said Sharphearer and Fasterdigger at the same time.

  “Are there any more?”

  “Your analysis is impressive!”

  “Is the physical provenance preserved?”

  They all spoke at once. Crimson, flustered but pleased, spread her hands. She had dirt beneath her nails.

  “You can see the dig. After the floodwater recedes. If there’s anything left of the site. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “The fossils were damaged?” Late asked, stricken.

  “We’re lucky to find them at all!” Crimson said. “We dug them off the moon, you know.”

  Gerald moved between Crimson and the quartet, bluff and hearty, smoothing over the possibility that the flood had washed out the site.

  “I’m sure the fossils are safe,” he said. “Let’s go see you settled in. It’s traditional on Starfarer to give a party for newcomers. That will be this evening. Tomorrow’s soon enough for serious matters... such as the fossils.”