"You said earlier that you could not," L'Kell answered. "I believed you then."
"And I thought it was true. But now—I am not so sure. You must understand, it is not just me. It is—"
"I know of the second one within you," said L'Kell. "Ik explained, as you rested."
"Ah. You know of my . . . companion." He almost said friend. But the word caught in his throat. He wasn't really sure it was true, with this Charlie.
/// Same to you, buddy. ///
He felt a sting of shame. But the fact remained. This Charlie was so dark, so moody. Did he trust Charlie-Four the way he had trusted the others? He wasn't sure.
/// I saved your friend's ass, didn't I? ///
/Yes. And I am grateful,/ he murmured, and meant it, even as he wished that he could keep some thoughts to himself.
"John Bandicut, my people are dying."
He blinked his eyes open with a start.
L'Kell leaned forward and spoke slowly and precisely. "You must understand. I know you are weary, and perhaps uncertain. But you have shown yourself capable of healing." The Neri's eyes seemed to grow larger. "Healing someone not of your own kind."
"Yes, but it's not just—"
"Not just you."
"But not just the quarx, either. I do not think I could have healed Ik without his stones assisting." Bandicut nodded toward his friend.
"My people are dying," repeated L'Kell. "In the eyes of my people, and Askelanda, if you are unwilling to at least try to use this power to heal—"
Bandicut exhaled. "We will be considered enemies. Yes?"
"Yes."
Bandicut closed his eyes. /Charlie? Did you hear that?/ There was no answer from the quarx. "I am very tired," he said at last, not knowing what else to say. "I know that without rest, I can do nothing more."
L'Kell gave a slow nod of his head. "If you must take rest, then take it. But we cannot wait long for your answer."
As if in reply to his words, a low rumbling sound began to vibrate through the walls and floor of the habitat. Bandicut thought, but wasn't sure, that he saw a faint glimmer of light far off in the distance. He rubbed his eyes. It was gone now—if it had been there at all. But when he looked back at the Neri, he saw L'Kell peering worriedly out into the deep, dark night of the sea.
Chapter 7
The Obliq
THEY HAD BEEN sitting a long time in the dark, watching and waiting. Suddenly Antares stirred. "I feel someone coming."
"Where? Are they hostile?" asked Li-Jared, an arm's length away.
"They are—" she paused, concentrating "—determined, I think. And uncertain."
"Confused? We could put that to use, perhaps."
"Not confused, exactly. More like cautious." She gazed at her companion, wary of the rising and falling tide of fear within the Karellian. Poor Li-Jared; he was terrified of being underwater, and no amount of rationality could take away that base, primal instinct.
The Karellian rubbed his fingertips together nervously, and finally made a clicking sound. "Can we explain? Communicate somehow? What about those telepathic senses of yours?"
Antares pushed her hair back. "I can only sense feelings, not thoughts. And I have never tried to send, not with an alien being." It seemed a risky thing, fraught with hazards, not least of which was exposing her own inner feelings to others, perhaps the wrong emotion at the wrong time. On the Thespi homeworld, her role had been to facilitate communion among others, and to keep her own feelings to herself.
"Perhaps," said Li-Jared, "the time has come to try."
Antares didn't answer.
A light was approaching—a vehicle, perhaps, or a torch-carrying sea-person. It hovered a short distance away. She thought she could discern shadowy movement in the dark. Still, she was startled when a circle appeared in the floor, and a black, bug-eyed face peered up at her through rippling water. Antares felt Li-Jared recoiling, and suppressed an urge to do the same. Then she focused; and she found fear, but not animosity.
The creature climbed, dripping, onto the floor. The circle-opening disappeared. "Rakkagrrrreee," it said.
Antares listened carefully, her knowing-stones tickling her throat. So far they'd produced nothing like a translation of the aliens' words. Surely there was a way; and in fact, she felt an image rising in her mind of how it might be done. It was a startling thought. Not something to risk casually.
"Frikkatagaasss," said the sea-being, studying her.
It seemed interested in communicating. "Can you hear me?" she asked, raising a finger to one ear.
The being froze, then cocked its head.
"Can you—" she opened her hand slowly "—feel what I am feeling?" She had no reason to fear this being, or dislike it, she told herself. She wanted to convey a sense of . . . not trust, exactly, because that was premature, but perhaps quiet confidence. And curiosity. They were curious about her, and it might help them to know that she was curious about them.
The being shifted its position, and seemed to relax slightly. Beside her, Li-Jared was jittering inwardly, trying to calm himself with the knowledge that he was still, so far, safe. It was odd, she thought. Li-Jared seemed one of the smartest beings she had ever met—and also one of the most excitable. She sent a silent breath of calm in his direction.
She turned her attention back to the sea-creature, and wondered, with slow thoughtfulness, Is there someone in command, with whom I might exchange confidences? She lingered on the thought, not because she expected the being to understand the words, but in hopes that something of the spirit, the longing, would come through.
"Hyahh," said the being, stirring and gesturing toward itself. "Haleekah."
What did that mean? Was it offering itself as a possibility? She would have to respond carefully. Quite possibly this was an individual worthy of trust. But she sensed that there was a hierarchy of power here, and she needed to aim higher. "I must," she said deliberately, "speak with one of eminence." She folded her arms across her chest, then unfolded them again with a gesture of reverence.
"Hah-ruum?"
She repeated her words, aimed her fingertips inward to herself, then outward.
The sea-being touched his sides with both hands, pointed toward the place in the floor where he had entered, and made a sweeping gesture away, hands together. "Corri-kaola?"
Antares inclined her head in a bow.
The sea-being touched the floor. When a circle of water appeared, he slipped into it and vanished.
*
"Is that good, what just happened?" Li-Jared asked, crouching nearby.
"I'm not sure," Antares admitted. "We'll have to wait and see, I guess." She studied her companion. It was hard to call him a friend yet; she had only known him for a few days, despite having traveled light-years together. But she liked the Karellian and hoped she could depend on him.
They sat quietly, until there was movement again outside. This time as the lights drew closer, they revealed a small submersible. It slid beneath the little habitat and stopped with a shudder and a momentary rush of air bubbles. When the floor opened, it was to a shaft of air. She caught Li-Jared's steely bright gaze, sensing eagerness and apprehension.
The same sea-person emerged. "Squeee-quaa," it said, making quick hand movements down toward the sub.
"Want to go for another ride?" Antares asked Li-Jared.
The Karellian rubbed his thumbs and fingers together and stepped close to the hatch. "I'll take a look first," he muttered.
"You don't have to—" she began, and then realized that he was fighting to overcome his fear. "Good. Thank you."
The Karellian dropped out of sight, then called up, "It's roomier than the last one. Come on down."
She followed quickly. Their guide secured the hatch and took his place at the controls. The sub dropped away from the habitat, then glided through the undersea settlement, climbing slowly but steadily toward the upper levels of the city.
*
It felt as if they were seeing e
verything, and nothing: lights glowing greenly in the distance, and shapes that Antares could not quite visually resolve. She saw dark sea-people swimming through the water, singly and in groups, and flashes of what she took to be animal life, swerving and darting. One moment, the bottom slope was a looming, angling presence before them; the next, they were turning and climbing between luminous habitats with shadowy beings inside.
Antares had never been underwater before. It wasn't frightening to her in a visceral way, as it was to Li-Jared; but it was confusing and mysterious, and some of the long, silver creatures that swam through the water might have been alarming if she hadn't been surrounded by a hull of metal. Where were Ik and Bandicut? she wondered. Where were the two norgs, Bandicut's robots? And where was the star-spanner bubble, which she presumed was their only hope—if there was hope—of ever leaving this place?
"Up there," said Li-Jared, pointing—referring to their apparent destination.
A wide habitat was emerging from the undersea haze. This one was flatter than most they had seen; it was shaped like a broad tree-fungus, flat on the bottom, with a drooping overhang around the outer edges, and a top surface shaped with an undulating curve. It was wider than it was high, but still tall enough to have at least a couple of living levels stacked on top of each other. It was shimmeringly transparent.
Antares felt a growing sense of expectation from their pilot, but an expectation mixed with uncertainty. He (she was almost certain it was a he) was taking them to meet someone, and worried that he might be making a mistake. They came in under the habitat, docked, and climbed up through the hatch. They were met in a small room by a group of sea-beings, including three who were taller and more slender than the others, with skin of a dark greenish cast. These three seemed more graceful in their carriage and movements; and Antares decided that she was in the presence of females.
"Olla compollay?" said the nearest one at last. Antares caught a hint of the being's curiosity—a tentative mixture of fear and welcome. She found herself drawn toward these three, perhaps in response to their less hard-edged emotions.
"Yes," she answered, referring not to the words spoken but the feelings sensed. She extended a hand toward Li-Jared and made an ushering motion, hoping to emphasize that they were to be considered a team. Li-Jared made a soft bonging sound which she interpreted as a greeting.
The seafolk twittered among themselves, then herded them into the habitat, through several small chambers and a wider area that seemed less spartan and more like a gathering place. A number of females were in evidence, some busy in corners of the room with much smaller (juvenile?) sea-creatures. Antares paused, watching them curiously, wondering if the rearing of the young was a primarily female function here. There were no males around, except as part of their escort.
The floor of the room undulated, with a slow, up-and-down rolling movement like the surface of a tranquil sea. The juvenile seafolk were bouncing and swaying on the floor, and apparently enjoying it. Was that the ocean directly beneath her feet? It was; she could feel her feet sinking slightly into the flexible material that kept the sea out. She could tell it made Li-Jared uneasy, but she found its give comforting, almost nurturing.
Another female came up and spoke to their escort, and they seemed to decide something among themselves. "Kaylay, kaylay," one of them said, urging Antares and Li-Jared back into motion.
They were led through a passageway that was nothing more than a clear tube passing through the ocean. In the artificial light outside, they saw the occasional finned animal flit by, and once a long, pulsing jet-propelled creature. At the end of the passageway, they stepped through another solid-and-yet-not-solid membrane, and entered a chamber unlike any they had seen before. The walls were opaque and half concealed by dark, hanging curtains of what looked like fabric. It looked like a place of meditation, perhaps. Or even worship. Antares looked around and realized that most of her escorts had stayed outside; just two females stood behind them. They seemed to be waiting for something.
"Ah-ko-bahh," said a voice from beyond the farther curtains.
Antares waited for someone to answer, and finally did so herself. "Hello?" she called. "My name is Antares. My companion's name is Li-Jared. May we speak?"
A figure stepped through the curtains. It was recognizably one of the female seafolk—and yet different. This one seemed to project a sense of age; but it was not necessarily physical age, so much as the experience of years. Knowledge. "Ah-ko-lahh-bah," she said, coming more clearly into the light. She wore a kind of shawl over her shoulders, made of interwoven strands of what looked like soft, dry seaweed and threads of copper or gold. Her face seemed slightly luminous, or perhaps that was a trick of the lighting. Her eyes were larger than those of her fellow seafolk, and they moved slowly, almost unblinkingly, studying her visitors.
Antares felt at last that sense she had been waiting for—that she was in the presence of someone in a position of authority. She felt something else, too—in herself—an odd itching on the front of her throat. She resisted an urge to reach up and stroke the spot, but the sea-female's gaze had already alighted on her knowing-stones, imbedded in the same area. Were they glowing? Antares wondered, wishing for a mirror. /What's happening?/ she murmured silently to the stones.
The stones did not answer at once, but the itch on her throat was becoming sharper and better defined. It was unquestionably coming from the knowing-stones, and was rapidly turning from an itch into a burning sensation.
*Please remain still.*
She felt the stones' urgency like a physical pressure. They were preparing to establish contact. She wasn't sure how, but she knew she shouldn't interfere. Even so, when the moment came, it took her by surprise.
The flash seemed to come from somewhere behind her. She felt the sparks erupting from her throat . . . and her consciousness wavered just for an instant, not a sense of unconsciousness, but of consciousness expanded in time and space.
The sensation lasted only a moment, and then she blinked and saw the sea-woman staggering backward, eyes wide, webbed hands pressed to the sides of her head. And through the thin webbing between the sea-woman's fingers, two new stones glimmered.
"Colimay, colimay!"
The two females behind Antares stepped forward as though to help, or protect, but they stopped at the sound of the sea-woman's voice. They stood flanking Antares and Li-Jared; nobody seemed to know quite what to do. Antares was reeling from the splitting of her stones, and trying to remain standing. She felt as though her stones were reeling, too, and trying to regain their equilibrium and control.
The sea-woman took a halting step forward, gazing at Antares. She was clearly astonished and frightened. But the fear was fading. "Kalakala—" she started to say, and Antares felt an inner shifting and heard, "I am . . . Neri . . . what have you . . ."
It was like listening to a comm transmission breaking up, and she cocked her head, and with a whisper of excitement, said, "Again, please. Again?"
The sea-woman seemed wreathed in dismay and delight. The second time her words came out more comprehensibly. "We are the Neri . . . what have you done? . . . who are you? . . . why are you here?"
"Antares," she murmured, and then spoke more distinctly. "Call me Antares. I am a Thespi third-female. And this is my friend Li-Jared." She turned. "He is a Karellian. We are not of your world. Do you understand about the stones?"
"Stones," the Neri woman echoed, her voice husky like a dry leaf fluttering in the air. Her eyes closed, with a slow-motion blink, and opened. "I feel them . . . speaking . . ." And her voice trembled with a fresh rush of fear, tempered by growing comprehension.
Antares worked to maintain a sense of calm, for the sea-woman's benefit as much as her own. It was going to take time to get through the fear and bewilderment. But now the halting progress of words was like a slowly emerging breath of joy.
The sea-woman, whose name was Kailan, had a great many questions for Antares.
*
> "And so even though we have landed practically in the middle of your city, we know almost nothing about your world," Antares concluded.
"Then," Kailan said, "there must be a great deal that you would like to know."
Antares inclined her head in acknowledgment.
Kailan touched her shawl, as though in thought. "I feel somehow . . . that I can trust your . . . intentions. It is a most odd sensation." She blinked slowly. "I cannot promise to answer all your questions. But perhaps some. Please ask."
Antares drew a slow breath, and tried to project calm onto Li-Jared, who was making little gulping sounds beside her, trying to restrain himself from interrupting. "Do all of you," she asked with great deliberation, "live beneath the sea? And are you a leader of your people?"
Kailan made the dry-leaf sound again, wordlessly. One of the other Neri females said something, and she answered in words Antares could not follow. "We," she said, "live beneath the sea—though there are others who do not. As for me, I am called the obliq. The keeper. I am not a leader, precisely, no. But I assist our leader with the knowledge and wisdom of generations past." The Neri seemed to chuckle to herself, but it was not precisely a sound of mirth. "Sometimes they remember to ask me, and sometimes they do not."
That, Antares thought, her mind flickering back to her homeworld, is something I can understand well.
"The work of the obliq," Kailan went on, "is to remember and to remind." She touched the stones at the side of her head. "I have much new to try to understand, including the function of these—" qualay "—stones." Her gaze shifted to Li-Jared, then back to Kailan. "But I believe that the young guard who decided to bring you here chose wisely. Because I must try to understand you."
"We will do what we can to help you," Antares said. "May I ask what has become of our friends? They were separated from us, and we have heard nothing of them."
Kailan turned and spoke into the shadows behind her. Another Neri woman emerged, and they exchanged words; then the other Neri disappeared back through the curtains. Kailan turned back. "My assistant, Elbeth, will inquire."
The Chaos Chronicles Page 72
