The Tau Ceti Diversion

by Chris McMahon

  He felt a tremendous sense of peace and tranquility surround him. The cylinder hung loosely in his hands.

  Karic reached for the fugue state. Felt his mind shimmer and expand, reaching out, hovering on the point of contact.

  Suddenly, he glimpsed movement behind the Fintil.

  The Awakener swung the scepter toward the Fountain, his face twisted with fear and rage. The Imbirri’s hands trembled, his eyes glowing with a pale, uncertain light.

  Karic’s reaction was instinctive. He raised the inert weapon as though to ward off a blow. The scepter slipped in his grip, his finger sliding by chance over a large stud on the haft of the weapon. Instantly, the power within the weapon built. A lashing tendril of blue-white lightning swept toward the Awakener with a crack like thunder.

  The smell of ozone filled Karic’s nostrils.

  I thought the cylinder was inert!

  The strike missed the Awakener, yet it sent him and the other Imbirri who remained near the cave fleeing in fear. Karic watched the Awakener run into the forest below and thought he had never seen a finer sight.

  The Fountain turned to watch the Fin run into the forest. For the first time he noticed the power rod in the leader’s hands. Grief filled the Fountain as he finally understood. These sentient Fin were not the innocents he had assumed.

  The Fountain turned toward Karic, placing a slender hand on his shoulder. This small being had saved his life. His hastily erected shield would not have protected him from rearward attack.

  Without hesitation, the Fintil sent a tendril of spirit toward the human, seeking to merge with his mind. Within the matrix of this merger, like an egg taking root on the fertile wall of the womb, their minds became one. The Fintil could now understand Karic’s thoughts, and sensed his confusion regarding the scepter. He received images of a darkened valley and smiled.

  “The power rods receive their power from the transmission network,” sent the Fountain across the link. Karic received an image of a crystalline transmission node, a glowing mountain like those that covered the dark side and fuelled its artificial ecosystem and so much else. “All of our devices are inert within the darkened valley. That is why we left them there.”

  Karic looked toward the being with astonishment, hearing the distinctly male voice clearly in his head as each thought flashed into existence before his mind’s eye. He replied to the being mentally, across the bridge of minds. Karic’s first two attempts resulted in a garbled mess of conflicting thoughts. Then he discovered that if he spoke aloud, his mental message was clearer.

  “So, during the time we fled from the Awakener and the Imbirri, we could have used the weapon?” asked Karic, recalling the agonizing, fear-filled flight across the ridge, the confrontation on the peak …

  “I am glad you did not. But yes, once within range of a transmission node, power would have been available to the rod. But, my friend,” said the alien mind-to-mind, taking the rod from Karic’s hands, “this is not a weapon. It is an antenna, a conduit for receiving energy. We use them to power our machinery.”

  The ancient Fintil’s wings quivered. “I have so many questions. How did the Fin feeders — you called them the Imbirri — come to be in possession of a power rod? How did they come to perceive its capabilities? Why would they choose to use it in such a way?”

  “They call themselves the Imbirri,” said Karic. “I think initially they feared us. They took us prisoners.” Images of Karic’s imprisonment fled across the gap between their minds. The Deepwatch Utar. The Awakener. “Why do you call them feeders?”

  Karic gasped as a wave of agonizing sadness struck him across the link. The big, glittering eyes of the Fountain turned toward him. He could sense the Fintil’s gaze, although the eyes themselves and their many facets remained a hypnotic kaleidoscope of refracted and reflected color.

  “I apologize for burdening you with my remorse,” said the Fountain, abruptly shielding the emotions from Karic before he continued. “The Fin are the children of the Fintil, before their rebirth as winged, sexual beings.”

  “They are asexual?” asked Karic, realizing how much this explained: the lack of children, the strange uniformity among them.

  “Yes. It is only when they emerge from the chrysalis that they take on their sexuality and become fully sentient beings … or at least that is how it was.”

  Karic struggled to maintain some control over the telepathic link, to shield his process of cognition, yet he had no idea how. Each of his conscious thoughts tumbled out onto the shoreline of his mind to gleam like bleached shells. This did not concern Karic, though, because there was a similar openness in the alien’s mind.

  Karic sensed curiosity from the Fintil.

  “Which planet of the Har Confederation are you from, human? You must be a new admission, because I have never encountered your species before. I ask because I have been asleep for so long; otherwise, as Fountain of the Fintil, I would know of your people.”

  Karic was genuinely perplexed. “My two companions and I traveled here from Earth,” said Karic, his mind clouded by homesick images of the blue planet. “What is the Har Confederation?”

  The Fountain was ominously silent. Although they were still connected mind-to-mind, the being had withdrawn his surface thoughts to another, inaccessible part of his mind.

  The Fintil’s wings contracted with a snap, his tall golden body growing rigid with tension. Karic’s eyes were drawn to the long limbs, and the row of short, razor-edged ridges above the delicate hands; like knives designed to rip and slice. The Fountain’s powerful mandibles ground together, the sound setting Karic’s teeth on edge. They could take an arm — or a head — off with a single bite.

  Karic had no idea how the Fountain had hidden his thoughts, but he felt alarmed. As though he had woken from a dream, he suddenly realized the enormity of what he was doing. Their negotiations with this powerful being would determine their fate on the planet — and whether they ultimately reached Earth again. He was communicating telepathically with a highly advanced alien — one who was more skilled at hiding his thoughts than he was. Could he trust a being this adept at hiding his true intent?

  He had to think fast, while the Fountain’s attention was elsewhere. There was no way he could emulate the disciplined techniques of the Fountain. That was a skill he could not begin to understand. He could try to limit his thoughts, focus as hard as he could on one thing, but how long could he keep that up? Or … he could fill his thoughts with a bevy of confusing, distracting images. Yes, that would work — and it would be much easier to achieve.

  The Fintil turned back to Karic.

  “By what means did you reach the planet Cru?” demanded the Fintil. The Fintil’s concentration was total, and Karic felt his own mind exposed beneath the scrutiny.

  Karic was intimidated by the sudden change in the Fintil, but carefully collected his thoughts. One false move would cost them dearly.

  “We traveled here by starship from Earth,” said Karic aloud, images of the Starburst, its computer-driven nervous system and fusion heart, filled the space between them. He concentrated on the image of Starburst, determined not to let his thoughts stray.

  The Fountain was puzzled. He saw the mother-ship of the humans through Karic’s eyes, and knew it to be cleverly constructed, yet even so the technology was unbelievably crude. There was no conceivable way a ship like this could master the intricacies of Transition.

  “How does your ship operate?” asked the Fountain. “How did it bring you from Earth to Cru?”

  The Fountain listened in disbelief as the human explained their method of traveling, going to great lengths to explain how their bodies were placed into animated suspension for the journey. The human physiology gives them that advantage, at least.

  With abrupt clarity, the Fountain realized who these creatures were. The images of their spinning world and its single sun, so unlike all the ancient, still planets of the Har Confederation; their method of travel, the primitive tech
nology, all of these facts shifted into focus.

  “You actually traveled through space to reach this system?” asked the Fountain, in a state of disbelief.

  Karic was unsure what to think. Linked as they were, there was no chance he had mistaken the other’s thoughts. “How else would we have arrived here?”

  The golden being broke contact. Karic watched him carefully as he sat on the dull, sparse ground cover. The Fintil’s body began to shake. Tentatively, Karic approached him. As he drew closer the convulsions became more pronounced, and with an elegant motion, the ancient being threw back his head and began to bellow, howling into the darkness in a rhythmic staccato. With a shock, Karic realized he was laughing at them, laughing uncontrollably.

  Karic grew angry, and his thoughts spilled out into the space between them.

  Sensing the human’s anger, the Fountain sobered and joined with him again. “I have to apologize. For a transformed sentient to travel in such a manner is … unheard of. Have you not begun to study the rhythms of your planet as its structure fluctuates in Timespace? The dimensions that exist beyond it?”

  Karic merely shook his head, but his thoughts conveyed volumes. He was thinking of Earth again; the American continent, dominated by the authoritarian dictates of the Federated States of America. Old Europe, united now and becoming more closed to the rest of the world every decade. Asia, highly developed and chokingly populous: the myriad tiny nations all playing court to the Dragon, China. And surrounding all of them the choking hold of the United Earth, the successor to the United Nations, which coveted the last of Earth’s wilderness areas with an iron hand, its uniformed officers monitoring every aspect of the environment, its leadership commanding the armies of Earth through its powerful Enforcement Council.

  Had it been arrogance to fling themselves into the darkness of space leaving such division behind? Thousands of cultures and differing languages, billions of people, all vying for space on the crowded surface and the harsh stations of the Free Colonies. All separated in mind, spirit and purpose.

  Karic could not speak for all of humanity, only himself. And for him the exploration of space had been his greatest dream — a longing that had driven him since he was a boy, defining each of the major turning points of his life.

  Allowing himself to become immersed in Karic’s thoughts, the Fountain became grave. Any humor he may have felt a moment before was being fast dispelled, and alarm filled him; for he realized he had unwittingly broken one of the most fundamental rules of the Har Confederation. The winds had grown cold and dangerous, and he must fly carefully, testing them with every stroke. The human’s thoughts were disturbing, although they had given him something to use. Karic had an unquenchable longing for space. He could make him an offer that he would find impossible to refuse, and remove him from the realm of the Fintil for evermore.

  Realizing that he lost control of his thoughts, Karic stilled his mind.

  “Do you communicate telepathically in your home world?” asked the Fountain across the link.

  “No. We have dreamt about it for centuries, but our science has never grasped it.”

  “But what of yourself? Your mind was ready for contact before our first meeting.”

  The Fintil’s mind was still closed to him.

  “I am not … typical,” replied Karic.

  The Fountain chittered to himself gravely. As he had suspected, these humans were not only primitive sentients, they were a pre-transformation species! They had yet to make the crucial step in evolution that enabled mind-to-mind communication, a vital prerequisite for interspecies contact, and the hallmark of all truly civilized spacefaring cultures. If he had known this, never would he have attempted contact with them.

  The golden being looked at Karic with new respect. This human had experienced a frightening birth within his mind and yet had accepted it. Despite the primitive savagery of the race, as glimpsed in Karic’s thoughts, he now had a new respect for humanity. They were a brave and clever people. Yet any admiration he felt did not alter the gravity of the transgression.

  “I should not be communicating with you, Karic.”

  “Why?” asked Karic. He could sense a drastic change in the being’s attitude toward him.

  “You are a young people, too young to have contact with such an ancient species as my own. Since you have been so injured by my children in their misguided attempts to protect themselves, I will not destroy you, as our laws dictate. Instead, I can offer you life — conditionally.”

  Karic’s heart raced. The Fountain will allow them to live?

  “What condition?” asked Karic.

  “You will be transported out of this galaxy, to another world, much like your own. I will give you a ship — much more advanced than yours — with which you can explore space.”

  “Why?”

  “I cannot allow you to carry knowledge of the Fintil back to your world. The ship I will give you will allow you to survive — even prosper. But it will not be capable of returning you to this galaxy. You will never see your home world again.

  “Your people should not be venturing into space,” finished the Fintil.

  “But exploring space is one of our greatest dreams! My people will never accept that!” replied Karic, angrily.

  “It is your people’s choice of course. I can only advise you that it is … a little soon.”

  Karic thought desperately. Despite never seeing Earth again, the idea of having a technologically advanced ship at his disposal was compelling. With one thought he could ensure survival for himself, Mara and Andrai — and fulfill his lifetime ambition of exploring space. But what of Mara and Andrai? What right did he have to choose for them? It had always seemed his dream, to cast himself into the depths of space and explore its mysteries. In his pride, he had always felt that it was his work alone that had taken him so far. His designs, his passion. But the reality was different. Always there had been someone at his side, supporting him, yet never recognized. First Lein, then Evelle, then in the heady days before the Starburst’s departure, Mara. Always there. His experiences here had forced him to reassess his true connection to humanity in ways he had never considered before.

  Lein had tried to tell him. His grandfather’s dying words came back to him now with even greater meaning. He had forgotten about anyone who stood with him.

  He could not forget about Andrai and Mara. Not now.

  Karic also had a responsibility to Earth. Despite the dictates of the Fintil, Earth had a right to know of this powerful race living right on their celestial doorstep.

  But how could Karic convince the Fountain to let them return to Earth? What single thing could he offer the Fintil? And then there was the voice of doubt. Did he really want to reject this offer? If he did, by some miracle, convince the Fountain to let them go — would he regret it? Karic dismissed the thought. He could not think only of himself anymore. He had to do the right thing for all of them, and he had to act now.

  Karic thoughts raced. Then, in a flash of inspiration, he had it. Carefully, he focused his thoughts, trying to keep his mind blank. He could not let this slip. This secret was the only card they could play.

  “You said that these Imbirri transform into Fintil?”

  “Yes,” replied the Fountain warily.

  “I know where three of the Imbirri have started the change. One of them was a leader of the Imbirri.” He had just realized that Utar and his two followers, now encased in a chrysalis, were not just still alive, they were in the process of transforming into Fintil. If he had gleaned anything from the Fountain’s mind, it was his powerful urge to protect his children, the next generation of Fintil. His race was on the verge of a crisis. Their very survival hinged on this next generation, on the Fintil that the Imbirri would become.

  “Where?” demanded the Fountain. The Fountain’s focus on Karic intensified until it was a physical pressure on his mind. His temples began to pulse with pain, red-hot wires snaking into his head. But he was ready.


  Karic thought back to the repairs on the ship, the long, long list of pending work and all the resources they lacked. Mentally projecting himself back on the Starburst, he began to work his way through the list, losing himself in the massive amount of detail. Circuits to be repaired, components replaced, modules and computing systems to be cannibalized and jury-rigged together. It took little effort. For months, this was all that had filled his mind and it all came back, in all its mind-staggering detail.

  The Fountain ceased his attack. The Fintil shrieked in surprise and backed away a step. Karic’s thoughts had become like a mass of insistent parasites, tearing at his focus. He recovered quickly and considered the problem. The Fountain was unfamiliar with the human species and feared he would destroy Karic’s mind if he pressed the man any further. Yet it was imperative that he find these transforming Imbirri before the Awakener. He could not allow one of his new children to die.

  “Very well,” sent the Fintil reluctantly. “Tell me what you want in return for the location.”

  Karic was wary. He stilled his thoughts and focused himself once more.

  “Your help in returning us to our ship,” sent Karic. “And your help in exiting this system so we can return to Earth. We also need to know when it will be safest to pass the black hole near your sun.”

  “Black hole? There is no … Ahh. I see.”

  Fintil was silent for long minutes, his mind closed.

  “Very well,” replied the Fountain. “I know your ship is damaged, and I have no idea how to repair your technology. But I have the means to take you to orbit. As for the danger — we know our system well, and I can guarantee you that you will be safe from the … black hole … as you pass Tau Ceti.”

  “And you will not threaten our lives in any way?” insisted Karic.

  The Fintil buzzed with irritation then descended into brooding concentration. For long minutes, the silence stretched out between them like a funeral procession. Finally, he gave his answer. “No. Your lives will not be threatened by myself or my race.”