The blonde grunted unhappily. “And how! A screwy, low-level energy output, according to his gear and ours. Most of the detectors claim that the energy source is there—and that it isn’t there. A few tracks agree it’s there, but refuse to record the wavelength. And one track told us that, because the stuff doesn’t match known configurations, we should ignore it.”
“We will not do that,” Praedar said firmly, and the Terrans smiled.
“Hell, no!” Sheila said. “It’s all up to you, handsome. Get this fornicating door open, or we’re stuck.”
Kat made a face. “Be reasonable, Whitcomb. The door isn’t fornicating anything. It’s just sitting there minding its own business.”
That triggered a round of tension-releasing laughter, then attention shifted back to the show-and-tell session. The stay-at-homers described work they’d been doing while the team’s reps were at the Assembly: imaging; cataloging; recording the murals on holo-mode; and warehousing all the artifacts in the small dome’s entryway. They’d accomplished quite a lot. In fact, it appeared nearly all the ground had been covered and everything was hanging fire now, waiting for Dan to solve the mystery of the locked door.
“We’d have got more done,” Sheila said, “if the damned quakes and itching would ever let up.”
“Another matter to be examined and answered,” Praedar said. “Don’t we hope.” Rosie sounded aggrieved. '
Abruptly Praedar swung around and headed out of the dome as rapidly as he’d climbed the hill. Again the rest trailed after him, curiosity getting the better of them. Dan had a bad moment of deja vu; this was exactly what they’d done the day Hanging Rock fell and Chen died.
Was Praedar thinking the same thing? As he emerged from the ancient structure, he took a hard right and hurried across the valley toward his friend’s museum. Few of his colleagues followed. They waited on the path, watching from a polite distance while the Whimed knelt by the boulder. Praedar remained in that position a long time, his gaze unfocused, his spidery hands splayed out against the stone. It was a moving scene, the essence of a being remembering, preserving the truth of a dead friend’s life.
At last, Praedar shook off his grief. He rose and trotted back to the others. Sheila hesitated, as if wanting to be sure the Whimed was fully back in the real world, then said, “We’ve taken to calling it Chen’s Rock. Okay?”
Praedar smiled sadly. “Appropriate. Chen would be amused.
He would say that place names are as ephemeral as the species that bestow them.”
For some reason, the comment made Dan shiver.
“Shelter,” Praedar went on, gesturing to the insta-cell complex. “Heat oppresses you Terrans and Vahnajes. Let us adjourn there. We have seen your work. We will show you ours.”
Nobody needed a second invitation. Offworlders trooped toward the complex. Chuss and his friends scampered after them. Other N’lacs joined them. Sleeg disapproved. He shrilled warnings after his people. They pretended not to hear. They obeyed his rules when it came to the domes. But apparently they regarded the insta-cells as safe.
The cook shack was a cool haven. Scientists and N’lacs swilled liquids and savored the clime-controlled air blasting from the vents. Vahnajes were so relieved to get out of the sun that for once they expressed only minimal disgust when the other species wolfed snacks that the camp’s cook was passing around. Kids of four races climbed onto adults’ laps and shoulders. Team members settled onto benches, chairs, and perched atop tables. Some sat on the floor. Others stood, forming a circle as Kat cued her candid holo projector. The N’lacs were as eager as the rest to see the show. They were familiar with tri-dis, and whether or not they thought the process was magic, they weren’t afraid of it. They giggled and muttered, pointing at the strangers’ images forming in the holo beams.
The Twelfth Xenoarchaeological Assembly unfolded with lectures, panels, exhibits, conversations, and interviews. Kat’s amateur souvenirs and the professionally recorded wafers Joe had bought were shown. This was the cutting edge of their science, and the stay-at-homers reacted volubly.
“Did you hear that? Imhoff told the Saunders that their cataloging and dates match our findings precisely. With his rep to support us, how can the Saunders deny...?”
Kat had included segments on the reporters covering the Assembly. In one, Rei Ito was quizzing the Saunders and then Praedar’s team. The audience shouted, “Is that Miwa Ito the Scandalmonger’s sister? Hey! Your future in-laws, Dan!”
“So the rumor goes,” he conceded, sighing.
Images flowed on. So did the comments. As more and more discouraging tri-dis were shown, the onlookers’ mood darkened. There were fewer cheers and uglier curses.
Dan slouched, nagged by guilt. Had he done everything he should have, could have, at the conference? They’d been hurt there, perhaps mortally. The starhopper was as good as grounded, and so was he. Anelan was disenchanted. Eckard was waffling.
The Vahnajes were chirring unhappily as they watched the holo-modes. The Whimeds huddled compulsively again and again and glowered fiercely. Terrans grumbled louder and louder. Armilly hunched into a large, furry ball, his manner unnaturally solemn. The N’lacs were increasingly anxious, eyeing the off-worlders uneasily. The e.t.s looked as if they wished they’d listened to Sleeg and stayed clear of this gathering.
“Damn the Saunders! Even with our evidence right under their noses!”
“Urr... kunta nesanle ... urr... urr.. . URR!” Ruieb’s bunch griped.
Whimed topknots were bristly. Drastil stood braced for battle, his large head thrust forward belligerently as he watched the show. Terrans and Vahnajes edged away from him.
“Pig-stubborn data jugglers!”
“Playing blind, deaf, and dumb to our data! How could you let them do that to you, Kat?”
“What was I supposed to do?” she retorted hotly.
“Quas-Jin. Oh, hell! There’s extra ammo for the Saunders.” Ruieb protested, “Is not so! Is ... hon-or-able being.”
“And crammed with prestige, which he rubbed off all over the Assembly’s hosts.”
“What could we expect?” Sheila cut in. “After all, the Vah-najes and the Saunder-McKelveys go way back, eh, Dan?”
He wished she hadn’t brought that up.
“Can’t get away from your damned kindred anywhere!” Rosie cried. Then she grimaced and added lamely, “I—-I know it’s not your fault, Dan, but...”
Baines pointed at the holos. “Jarrett? Saying he sees no basis for unnecessarily mythological explanations of alien cultures! Whose side is he on, anyway?”
“He expressed his view of the truth,” Praedar said, his voice tightly controlled, conveying calm.
It was a small drop of oil on an agitated sea.
As the holos replayed the final night’s formal affair, Kat said, “If Feo and Hope actually follow through on a promise you’ll hear them making, we’ll have to watch our language and manners more than we’ve been doing here. Mustn’t step on our guests’ toes.” “What...?”
“Shh!” from several dozen intent viewers. They listened to the challenge and Feo’s unwilling agreement to a fair exchange of visits.
Beams winked off. Kat stored the holos and closed the projector. The cook shack was remarkably still. Then Rosie said incredulously, “The Saunders? Here? Is is possible?”
Almost as one, the team turned to Dan. “Why are you putting me on the spot?” he demanded. “I’m not responsible for my kin.” “Are they coming? Are they really coming?”
“Yes,” Praedar said. “They have much to prove. And Feo gave his word. He is not without his ethics.”
“Oh, he’s sure demonstrated that,” Dan retorted with withering sarcasm.
Praedar argued, “They are careful scientists. The fact that their selectivity and interpretations are in error will not affect their agreement to observe our site.”
“Maybe. Hard for them to back out, ” Dan said, “since there were all those witnesses and Ito invited h
erself in. Okay, so they put up. But I’ll bet they won’t change their attitudes one damned bit.”
“They killed us at the Assembly,” Sheila spat. “Dammit, you let ’em get away with murder! Our project is a watershed in xenoarch research, and you blew it for us.”
Joe refused to take that. “We did it very well, all things considered. If you think you could have done better...”
“Damned right!”
Tempers exploded. Long-nursed resentments and personality conflicts had been brewing for months. Fatigue, despair, and frustration all erupted at once.
Terrans, Whimeds, and Vahnajes swapped angry words. Ar-milly banged on the cook shack wall, shaking the partition alarmingly. N’lacs were running around, panicking, ducking under tables, and tripping offworlders. The whole thing threatened to disintegrate into a wild multispecies brawl.
A human threw the first punch. Peacemakers attempted to break it up and got dragged into the clashes that were starting all over the room.
Dan struggled to separate Baines and Getz’s senior student. In the confusion, a misaimed blow rocked the pilot back on his heels. “Fine!” he yelled. “Let’s play it that way, then!” He grabbed handsful of both men’s jumpsuits, catching them off balance and hurling them headlong against the dining tables.
Baines came up swinging. “I’ll get you for that, McKelvey! I always knew you were on their side!”
“stopr The command stunned everyone. People went rigid, then turned, seeking the source of the deafening roar.
Praedar stood atop a Vahnaj privacy eating booth. His mane was a crown. His fingers clawed air.
“We are scientists!” he reminded them.
Those who had fallen groaned and pulled themselves upright or were helped to their feet by others. Sheila disengaged her opponent’s hands from her braids and backed away from the woman. “Uh ... sorry, Barb. I didn’t mean that.”
Terrans whispered sheepish apologies. Vahnajes straightened rumpled clothing and fluffed their sideburns. Armilly looked oddly deflated. Whimeds combed their disheveled topknots and fidgeted, energy levels still at a peak.
Kat and the team’s socio specialists crawled among the N’lacs, soothing and coaxing them to come out of hiding. Chuss and Meej were the bravest, though they remained on guard, ready to take to cover again if the offworlders went crazy once more. Eyes wide, the villagers stared at the bigger humanoids.
“It is uncivilized,” Praedar said. “This must cease. It is stupid.” People avoided his angry glare. “We must not oppose each other. Ignorance is our enemy, not our colleagues. Conflict hampers the discovery of truth.”
An ashamed murmur rippled through the crowd.
Kat cuddled N’lac females and their children, speaking softly to them. She glanced up at Praedar, then at the mob standing below his platform. “I think this has been proof that we’re overdue for a pit fit.”
That set off a buzz of conversation. At least the team was discussing options now, not throwing punches.
Chuss sidled close to Dan and tugged at the pilot’s sleeve. “Is okay, Kelfee? Is be okay?”
“I sure hope so.” Dan patted the N’lac’s bald pate. “None of them fellow is mad at you fellow. Not really mad at each other fellow.”
Chuss wrinkled his tiny nose, uncomprehending. “Is bad feeling from temple. Bad stuff.”
Dan shrugged, uncertain what Chuss meant. “Could be.”
“Pit fit! Right!” Sheila shouted. “You said it, Olmsted! Overdue and then some!”
Joe chimed in. “It’s been months. More than half a year. With this mess we’ve just been through, here and at the Assembly, we were bound to crack. And we will again, if we don’t loosen up.” A chorus of agreement rose. The proposal had seized everyone’s fancy. They turned to Praedar, clamoring. In response, Praedar turned to Ruieb-An. “You will accept this? I know it is distasteful to you.”
The lutrinoids chirped and swayed, a sober row of gray-faced figures in rumpled diggers’ clothes. Ruieb-An said, “We... urr ... ac-cept. We have... urr... al-so felt such... urr... need.” “Armilly?” Praedar asked. The Lannon heaved a great sigh and nodded.
The Whimed straightened to his full, impressive height. He peered down at his team. “It will be. Each species will provide its preferred alterant. What site shall we use?”
Baines had been hanging his head, looking anywhere but at Dan and Norris, Getz’s student, his sparring partners. The xenogeolo-gist recovered a bit of his composure. “How about the dud pits?” he suggested. “That way we won’t mess up any ongoing digs.”
“And they aren’t deep,” Norris said. “So when we fall down, we won’t get hurt.”
“Or hurt anyone else,” Kat added under her breath.
Praedar dropped from the eating booth, landing lightly. A mischievous grin split his bony face. “Very well. It is agreed. Collect. Aja roots...” and the Whimed scientists brightened in happy anticipation. “Po fruit for our Vahnaj colleagues. Armilly will bring his eshi. The Terrans will bring ...”
Sheila led the humans in a rousing cheer: “Binge juice!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nightmares Walk
Chuss loped alongside Dan, getting in the pilot’s way. “You fellows have big fun fire party, huh huh?”
Dan moved crabwise, trying to maintain his grip on a slippery container. He was helping Baines and other burly types carry a still full of “binge juice.” “Yeah, yeah, big party.”
“It will be, once we get on the outside of this stuff,” Baines corrected.
The muscle men maneuvered carefully through the cook shack’s door and toted their burden to the dud pit flats at the bottom of Dome Hill. Twilight was falling, and the valley was cooling off fast. No one minded the temperature drop, though. People were in a jovial mood, forgetting that less than an hour ago some of them had been at others’ throats.
Sheila supervised the fire-building squad. They spread brushwood piles in a snaky line between the shallow excavations. “Good thinking, Whitcomb,” Kat said. “Distribute the illumination, so we’ll all have light to see by and find our way to the juice.” The blonde touched off the tinder, and soon brush was burning brightly, showering sparks into a darkening sky.
A carnival atmosphere took over. Team members brought food, musical instruments, bedding, chairs, tables, and portable vids from the insta-cells. N’lacs were infected by the spirit of the occasion. A steady stream of the e.t.s traipsed back and forth from the complex to their village. The natives emptied their larders and their clay beer pots into the communal party stores. Spits were set up. Lizards roasted, scorched skin and fat sizzling as they dropped into the flames. Gradually a dizzying array of refreshments was assembled—something for every species and every taste, with both alcoholic and nonintoxicating beverages to wash down the edibles.
N’lacs and offworlders wandered down the line of pits, selecting their spot for the evening. They had plenty of choices. Dozens of the depressions lay scattered on the half-moon apron between the insta-cells and Dome Hill. Excavations ranged in size from holes barely big enough for Chuss to fit into up to jumbo models. None was over a meter deep. Most were less. Dust drift had carpeted the bottoms, creating soft landing pads for any who overindulged and toppled inside.
The Vahnajes had staked out their claims early and were settled in. Dan had rarely seen lutrinoids so relaxed. They’d dipped deeply into their preferred mood alterant—pickled fruit called po. They were definitely feeling no pain. In fact, they were giggling inanely.
The Whimeds were chewing their favorite hallucinogenic roots. The substance had stained their lips bright red, and their eyes were starry opals. Drastil and Yvica were exceedingly giddy. The married felinoids shook with silent laughter, enjoying an intimate joke.
Armilly sprawled in the deepest pit, loudly inviting passersby to share his cakes of “hooshi best eshi stuff.” He wasn’t offended when they declined; that left more for him.
“Over here,” Rosie called, bec
koning to Frank. The cook was hauling trays of mugs and cups to the pit area. Terrans ran to help, then yelled advice as Frank tapped the still.
“Hurry up! I can almost taste it!”
“Stuff ought to be potent enough to cure a lot of ills...”
“It’s been brewing since... since when?”
“Since forever! Pour, Frank!”
Sheila handed Dan a brimming cup. “There you go, hand-
some. Let’s get a Saunder-McKelvey’s opinion on T-W 593’s private stock.”
He sniffed the mug’s contents while the cook protested, “Hey! Don’t be so generous with that.”
“Oh, stop it, Frank,” Kat jeered. “No one in his right mind swills binge juice. Besides, there’s plenty.”
Joe slapped the still’s side. “Hear her slosh! Must be thirty liters in there.”
Dan took a small sip. A river of cool fire slid down his gullet. For a second he couldn’t utter a sound or even inhale. Finally he whispered, “That’s ... that’s impressive.”
“Made from the very best native vegetatives,” Rosie bragged. “And a hell of a lot of ingenuity.”
“Every xenoarch field group has its own recipe,” Kat said. “But ours is the best.”
“This isn’t...” Dan wheezed, took a deep breath, and tried again. “This isn’t what you pass around at the tale-telling.”
“No chance!” Joe chuckled. “We save this for times of direst need, and tonight qualifies.”
Not certain how hard the alcohol would hit him, Dan walked carefully, following his friends to one of the larger pits. His stride remained steady, reassuring him. The juice’s effect seemed to be subtle, despite its potency. He joined the rest, sitting on the rim of the excavation, watching them for cues. What was standard behavior at a pit fit?
Humans and Whimeds stretched their legs into the depression’s center, bumping boots. Dan imitated them, making contact with Joe and Rosie. Kat and Sheila got into their act, and the five of them traded clumsy, harmless kicks in a game of foot-sparring. A group of N’lacs, including Chuss and the adolescent female he was nuzzling, perched in the next pit and laughed at the off-worlders’ horseplay. Praedar wasn’t huddling. Nor were other Whimeds. Oiled by their red roots, they were looking remarkably like humans with funny hairdos, arms around each others’ shoulders, swaying and singing off-key. Several of them were jabbering enthusiastically. Dan translated enough to know that they were swapping dirty stories.
Juanita Coulson - [Children of the Stars 04] Page 28
