by Tim Dennis
Peto had again drawn his pistol. They sat still for a long while, for what Norte didn't know. Just as she chose to continue, five naked people came running from one of the circular structures. Norte gripped Peto's hand, forcing him to lower his pistol while dragging him to his feet out into the open street. The group, two men and three women, giggled and danced, bare feet on gravelly pavement, wrapping themselves in towels as they crossed in front of them. All went into one house, without so much as glancing at Norte and Peto.
"Just keep walking." Norte said. "They don't know, or don't care. So don't draw attention to yourself."
Less than ten minutes brought them to the edge of the village. They'd passed a few of the more substantial buildings, but now all they saw was one little hut, wood framed, with a larger, loose brick building behind. The latter had two large swinging doors at one end, with a section of the road curving up to them, forming a kind of unbounded courtyard. Within this space sat a dozen wheeled vehicles of different type, with more stretched out along the road away from town.
"This is it." Norte whispered.
They stopped to glance into the hut's windows. Darker than night, they could make out nothing of what was inside. Norte forced her mind to focus on the task at hand, and Peto allowed an indulgence of his increasing curiosity. A faint glow filled the interior of the hut. The walls were covered with images of vehicles, static, physical images on small sheets, not f'windows. A counter lined one wall and on it were piled tiny models, some matching the images, some not..
"It's just toys, like the others, in that hut in the desert." Peto said.
"No," said Norte. "I think this is a factory of sorts. These are samples, representations of real vehicles." With that she left the window and went among the vehicles on the lot.
There must have been three dozen, no two alike, although some were similar. Norte marched right into the center of the collection and spoke aloud. "I want a ground vehicle" A dim pool of light encircled the entire lot.
"What are you doing?" Peto asked.
"Sssh! This is how it works, OK?" Norte slowly walked up and down the line of vehicles. One was made of wood, open, with a simple bench seat and a cargo space behind. The wheels also were wood and two long poles extended from the front end. She noticed there were several of similar type, all with those long poles. "Self-propelled vehicles only, please." The pool of light brightened in some areas and fell to darkness around the wooden vehicles. Norte approached another vehicle. It was mostly of metal, a closed compartment at the front, but still open in the seating and with the fragile looking wooden wheels. The one next to it looked much more substantial, and more complex. Its wheels were of steel and rubber, wider and partially covered by gracefully sweeping arcs of metal. The front-box of this one was much longer and larger, with a shiny silver cap at the front and a simple transparent screen mounted in front of the seats. Again she noticed several of similar design. Others had bodies which enveloped their entire structures within a single form, smooth sided with strips of silver along their flanks, some without the sliver strips, boxier, with contoured sides and long tails.
"I need something I can control, something without restrictions on use, that can go anywhere in this valley," Pools of light faded and flooded, reducing her options from the original three dozen to a mere two or three. Much to her pleasure, the long-nosed, silver tipped vehicle with the swooping wheel protectors was one of them. Without further questioning she opened the door and slipped in. Peto remained in the shadow of the hut, watching her and the road beyond.
Forward. Norte thought to herself, then "Forward," she whispered aloud. Nothing happened. Mounted directly in front of her was a large wood wheel, spokes holding it to a shaft which disappeared behind a panel. She grasped it, stared down the long, narrowing nose and tried again. "Forward!"
Nothing. She banged the panel and swore, startling Peto into jerking out his pistol and rolling deeper into the shadows.
"How the hell does this thing work?" She muttered. The yard went dark. In the well at her feet a light flashed twice, followed by another on the panel. All went dark for a few seconds, then the pattern repeated. The light in the well illuminated a pedal, twice; the light on the panel in front of her revealed a button. So she pumped the pedal twice and pressed the button.
A great roar issued from under the front and the entire vehicle shook, within a few seconds settling into a disturbing, burbling vibration. Through barely contained glee Norte fired off a host of other questions, following the guidance of the blinking lights that came in response. Within a few short minutes she felt she'd learned enough to pilot the craft.
"Peto!" She called. "Get in!" She leaned across and unlatched the other door. Peto slowly, sheepishly, made his way across the yard and climbed in. With jerks and sudden halts Norte guided the vehicle out of the yard, into the street and back towards the crossroads. The blinking lights stopped, replaced by intense, but fleeting, feelings of satisfaction and despair. This must be what Tugot feels from the ship. She felt it an odd way to pilot, but nevertheless attended to the feelings, allowing them to influence her actions and the jerking, halting motions of the vehicle became more fluid. Without understanding the mechanism, Norte had great difficultly mastering the three floor pedals. In an instant, while her attention was diverted, a brilliant white light issued from the front of the vehicle, illuminating the five towel-wrapped bathers as they ran back across the street. Each carried a glass of something, two with pitchers. The vehicle careened from one side of the road the other as Norte attempted to moderate its speed. Leaving the scatted residents behind, she managed the turn in the center of town and headed up to the ship.
Despite her growing confidence it was clear Peto was at his limit, so she paused by the Makered wall, let him out, and continued up the road into the mountains for a little practice. From midnight to sunrise she darted up the mountain roads, ever faster, ever more in control. Destiny, fullfillment of purpose; she was a pilot, the best Legong had produced, and although the Earthman's ship was obeying more of her commands this thing was hers, unaffected by enforced prohibitions. Twice she'd nearly flown off a curve. Once almost into a rock wall, once into nothing at all. The vehicle had made no corrections, given no warnings.
By the time she returned, the sun was visible over the eastern range across the lake. She guided the around the buildings and Makered wall to a patch of dirt beside the ship. As she climbed up through the hatch fatigue swept over her, satisfied, exhausted, a spent force. She longed for bed, but there was one more task to be completed.
Gabrile and Trendle sat together in the lanai, mid-day sun burning directly overhead. Wisps of green and orange vapor drifted up from the little ball in the center of the low table between them, switching their view between ToEv's ship, sitting silently behind someone's unoccupied summer retreat, to an Auburn Boat-tail Speedster hurtling up and down mountain roads around Lake Texcoco in the basin of Mexico.
Trendle sighed. "Tomorrow they're planning on heading into the city. They intend to collect navigation equipment, and bring it back to Legong. The ship has shown them the celestial collection in the temple complex."
"OK. I've changed my mind." Gabrile said. "Call Nafasi."
"Nafasi?" Trendle asked.
At a hundred and five, Gabrile's father was the only one on her team that looked anything more than middle aged. He fit the stereotype of whom a Legong would expect to find staffing a museum, aging and non-threatening.
"He's been wanting to get more involved." Gabrile said.
Trendle was going to question her more deeply, but he could see her mind had wandered, watching a young couple drag a sailboat off the beach. Gabrile imagined herself on the lake, with ToEv beside her instead of light-years away on some backward Colony. So Trendle brushed away his vapors, slipped the little ball into his pocket, and left to find Nafasi.
25
Myles hurried to catch up with Pig as he pat-pat-patted up to the back wall of his garden, hopping
over in a prancing leap. The slope leading up to the Shuttle Station was muddy and choked with reeds, he was having trouble keeping up. Every few meters Pig paused and looked back at him, standing on its hind legs, waving its human-like hand.
"Tugot! C'mon man."
Myles felt a moment of panic. He tried to call out for Pig to wait, but it was through the weeds, wading into the shallow waters beyond. Myles pushed the reeds aside and found Bento, standing on a rectangular tuft of dirt raised slightly above the level of the lake. A breeze Myles could not feel blew her hair as she stared down at him from the top of the terraced stone pyramid.
"Up!" She called.
With all his might Myles tried flapping his arms, but he couldn't get off the ground, something heavy wrapped his body and held him down. His face stung.
Myles looked up at Pig. Pig looked down at him, frustrated.
"It's your turn." Pig's mouth didn't move.
That's not Bento.
"Now, Tugot."
Oh.
The reeds, Pig, and the stones all faded away, replaced by an impatient Norte, her hands on his shoulders, shouting into his face.
"You've got five minutes. I'm going back in the pilothouse," muttering as she did so.
Myles stood gingerly, giving himself a moment to gain his balance before picking his way into the kitchen. He splashed cold water on his face and dropped into the pilothouse beside Norte.
"I think I've got this relay working between here and my manual link." Norte said. "But I'm not betting my life on it Tugot, so no sleeping. OK?"
Myles either nodded or said yes, he wasn't quite sure.
"OK. Peto will be down in a while. I'm going to bed. Stay Focused!"
She climbed out, leaving Myles alone. The wall in front of him showed daylight views of the ship and road from above, as well as several views of Norte's stolen ground vehicle, the lot it came from, and the sky above, clear and blue. People came and went in the little village center, rode along the roads in their odd wheeled vehicles, even stopping at the lot. Either no one cared, or no one noticed, but the empty spot in the line of vehicles was obvious to Myles. Also conspicuous by their absence were the familiar four or six-legged Cabs of Legong. Not once did Myles see a leg-ed vehicle.
I wonder if you can see Legong from here?
The sky view spun around, the blue replaced by a luminous black, filled with dots of light. All but one star dimmed. It grew into a disk, then a fiery ball. The image shifted again, the star fell away and Legong appeared.
I just wondered, I didn't want-
"Maybe you did," said Pig.
Myles jerked his head around, fearing Norte looking in through the open hatch behind him. Nothing. He turned back to the images as Legong gave way to the blue sky of the lake basin. He let his mind wander, so long as it stayed on Earth, and soon the images necessary for their security were joined by images of the island city, the complex of stepped pyramids in its center slowly filling with children, adults, and hairy, four legged beasts.
What the hell are those?
Llamas.
What?
A second image overlaid itself on the first. An example of the animal stood rigid against a pale blue background while a third image showed long lines of such animals strung together with rope, each carrying large packages.
OK. Some pack animal.
The image returned to that of the pyramid. The adults were herding the children towards the pack of animals. Men controlling the beasts opened the boxes on their backs and produced treats and confections which were promptly distributed among the kids.
A civilized people...
Myles watch, transfixed on the scenes of family bliss for what must have been some time, for the next thing he noticed was Peto dropping into the seat beside him.
"Wild, eh?" Peto asked. "People stacked those stones up, like thousands of years ago. By hand." Peto gave Myles an uncertain look. "That's true, right? That's not just a story?"
"I guess." Myles said.
"Oh! Did you see this?" Peto pulled out his manual link and held it to his head. The ball-on-a-stick that occupied the space between the seats projected an image into the space between them and the wall. Peto looked at Myles and laughed.
"Heh heh. Watch. Look at it."
Myles watched the image zoom in on a particular llama. It didn't seem to be enjoying the attentions of a young boy. The kid kept pulling at the rope around its neck, and the beast kept pulling its head away. Myles let his attention wander.
"Look! Look!" Peto said.
Myles turned back just in time to see the animal hurl a gob of slimy goo from its mouth directly into the boy's face. Peto practically fell out of his chair laughing. Myles looked at Peto with shock, but couldn't help being affected by his sheer joy. Myles looked away and shook a little, making not quite an audible laugh. This only set Peto off into greater paroxysms as he pointed at Myles and held his stomach.
Myles gave up and laughed with Peto, craning his neck to check the hatch.
No Norte.
Peto took a couple deep breaths and turned the image off. He watched what the pilothouse chose to show for a few minutes. "So you're an Advocate. I bet you did pretty good in school, huh?"
Myles stared at Peto, who still looked straight ahead at the pilothouse images. "You know Peto, this stuff isn't just Earth history, it's ours too."
Peto nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I was thinking that, that line of ground vehicles, they were so different from each other."
Responding to Peto's embarrassed curiosity, Myles fell into the role of teacher, using the pilothouse to give himself and Peto a guided tour of the planet. They spent a little time reviewing the city on the island, then moved on to others. Each varied in construction, architecture and layout, no two communities seeming the same.
"Why are they all so different?" Peto asked. "That must be so confusing."
Myles thought it more interesting than confusing. He gradually forgot about Peto and surrendered himself to the masses of data that came to them through the images. Occasionally Peto would interrupt with a question, and with the help of the ship Myles would try to answer it. It would give him anything he wanted, until he approached the time of the diasporas. Then it simply stopped.
Peto sat back in his seat, his eyes glazed as his brain tried to process. Myles slowed the pace of changing images to a rate he thought Peto might better handle, but his look didn't change.
"The buildings," Peto said, "they're all so complicated. Why Maker something like that?" He pointed to a particularly ornate stone building.
"I don't know." Myles admitted. "It doesn't actually look Makered, more like raw stone that's been chipped away."
"But then you've got to put them all together."
"We're not here to sight see." Norte's head projected into the pilothouse between Peto and Myles. Peto turned and shrank back in his chair. Myles ignored her. She remained, her hands on the edge of the hatch, letting her body hang into the space between Peto and Myles.
The images kept changing in a jumping sort of motion, showing people involved in different phases of the construction. When that was done the one image turned into five, showing variations of wooden houses in different towns in different environments. Reminding Myles of previous images, the children's skin tone darkened in relation to their proximity to the equator, whereas the adults, regardless of location, showed a variety of tones. The population showed a much broader range of hues than Legong, with much darker darks and almost translucent pinks.
What's that about?
"Yeah. Well. What's going on outside?" Norte said.
The images wavered and for an instant Myles thought he saw a diagrammatic layout of people with different skin tones, but it was instantly replaced by the original set of images of lakes, pyramids and sky, which was now deep blue in the east. Myles's stomach rumbled.
Norte said "Almost a full cycle and I haven't seen any evidence of interest in us or our actio
ns."
Peto sat more upright in his chair.
"You get anything from the ship Tugot?" Norte asked.
"What? You mean like danger or caution?"
"I don't know. I would expect it to have some sort of opinion, or reaction. I would think it would either turn us in or protect us. You getting anything like that?"
Myles thought about it, Peto watched him. He adjusted himself in the seat and looked up at Norte.
"I don't know. I don't feel any sort of alarm." Myles said.
"Yes, I know that, but if I drop out of that hatch to find us surrounded by some Earth army I'm going to wring your scrawny little neck. I told you not to goof off."
Myles huffed and shook his head.
Peto broke in. "You know, maybe we can bring back some other stuff, beside just the navigation things. We could make a museum back on Legong, like an ancestral Earth museum."
Norte looked at Peto like he'd grown a second head. Peto looked away from Norte, then away from Myles, then away from the images on the pilothouse walls.
Norte returned to the subject at hand. "Tonight we go into the city." She leaned into the pilothouse a little further and waved her hand at the wall. The ship displayed the center of the island city. On the north side of the central complex of massive stone pyramids lay a low, flat roofed building, larger in footprint than any of the others, with several internal courtyards. A grand entrance faced the complex while on its north side the structure doubled in height, a long gallery running half its length.
"This is a museum," said Norte. "It's currently hosting an exhibit on celestial mechanics. Much of it is ancient stuff, relating to calendars and superstitions, but there is a change, here, where the displays relate to navigation. They run right up through the post-diaspora period to modern day, and as far as the ship will indicate, include Traveler's nav tools."
Fascinating.
Inside that building lay information about post-diaspora Earth. No one on Legong, or any Diaspora Colony anywhere in the galaxy, had one iota of data post-diaspora. That building was filled with it.
