"Bah!" said Panglor, looking away. "Voices! I hear voices, but that doesn't mean I'm connected with the rest of the universe." He fumed. But he wasn't really angry with Tiki; he was angry with his helplessness. He was angry because they were stranded here, and because he didn't like being reminded of the voices he had heard and hadn't understood. And because it was all so damned frustrating!
Dismay touched him invisibly. Then Alo said, "Pangly, turn around."
Sighing, he faced them. Tiki was staring into space, eyes skewed. He seemed paralyzed—hurt by Panglor's doubt? Panglor felt shamed, but was too embarrassed to speak, until LePiep scrambled up into his lap and lent gentle support. The ou-ralot peered at the robed creature and radiated concern and sympathy, and she peered back up at Panglor. "Well—" he said. "Well. Tiki—hey, I didn't mean to be insulting or anything. I was just upset about what's been happening. Kind of got me off edge, you know?" He held his breath, waiting for a sign that the Kili would come around. LePiep stretched her neck toward the alien, purring.
Tiki hissed sputteringly. Slowly, his eyes realigned themselves and he focused on Alo and Panglor. His lips wrinkled, and he swayed. "Yes," he said. "Well, the place—the planet—the locus—the interference fringe—responds to thought and to state of mind. Maybe the place doesn't, but what happens here does." His eyes crossed again. "My poor shipmates. Poor shipmates . . . " He began making creaking noises, and his face turned shades of red and brown. His creaking became a high keening. LePiep cried and curled herself into a quivering ball, radiating sorrow and pain.
A tremble passed through them, through the ship. Panglor heard a distant rumbling, as of a thunderstorm or an earthquake. His weight increased; his arms grew leaden. With difficulty, he held LePiep protectively and looked around nervously, as Tiki wailed. My God, he thought, is the ship taking off? Please, no!
Alo couldn't stand it any longer. "Tiki!" she cried. "Tiki!"
The Kili's eyes popped straight, and the colors drained from his face. The vibrations in the ship ceased, and Panglor felt his weight return to normal. "My manners!" Tiki whispered. "Forgive me! I failed to seek your approval before my emotional display. But I thought of my shipmates—they couldn't make the adjustment." His square pupils opened wide. "They were too rational, too stable. And so they went truly mad. They broke. While I, who was thought unKili mad, remain here."
Tiki's eyes narrowed and he rose. He turned around, then back. "Why, I believe we have more guests coming," he said, blinking rapidly. "Are there other people with you? Should we go meet them?"
Panglor's limbs went cold. For a moment, he could neither move his eyes nor speak. Finally he asked, "Are there humans out there?"
"Indeed," said Tiki.
"Wait. Don't go out yet." He chewed his lip, thinking.
Tiki obviously sensed Panglor's alarm. The ou-ralot was up now, chirruping and radiating dismay. Tiki gazed at Panglor, canting his eyes inward just enough to indicate his concern. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "How may I help, friends Panglor and Alo and LePiep?"
"They—" started Panglor, and he shook his head, trying to think how to say this. "If they are the people we think, then they followed us, and their intentions will not be friendly."
"What may I do to help?" Tiki asked, swaying. "Are they evil or violent men?"
"They're angry," said Panglor, gesturing futilely.
Alo said, "Can you—?"
"Will you talk to them?" interrupted Panglor. "Find out what they want, but don't let them know we're here?"
"Of course I can do this," said Tiki, patting down his robe. "Can you doubt it? Is it so difficult?" He seemed almost to be chuckling.
Panglor gazed at him uncertainly. Doubt? Certainly he did; this was a self-confessed insane Kili. What did he know of murder and mayhem, and of lying and making sense to bloodthirsty men? Perhaps much; perhaps nothing. But what choice did they have? "No, no," he answered.
"But be careful," said Alo. "Please."
Tiki bowed so far left, and then right, that it looked as though he would topple over. Then he straightened and said, "Careful is all a matter of viewpoint." And he glided out through the passageway.
Chapter 10
Panglor and Alo joined glances for a moment. "You know what?" Alo said. "He reminds me of Urula."
"Who?"
"Tiki."
"Who's Urula? What do I care who Urula is? I'm worried about those men out there. They could kill us."
"Urula's my teacher," said Alo. "Only teacher I had at the station who was any good. He had a little robot. Never took me, himself, or the robot too seriously. I liked that."
Panglor let out his breath like a steam explosion. "What the hell do I care about some teacher when there are men out there ready to kill us?" He glared at her, until she furrowed her brow, gave him a crinkled smile, and shrugged.
"Okay, okay," she said, standing. "Let's go see what's happening. We can spy."
He grabbed LePiep, and they went out, following Tiki.
They peered into the outer storage compartment. Nothing stirred; Tiki must have gone outside. Alo nudged him, and they moved closer to the opening in the hull, where sunlight spilled into the compartment. There they took up a position behind some crates, in relative darkness, where they could listen and peer cautiously outside.
Tiki had walked some distance along the lagoon, and he was now greeting two men. The men were dressed in uniforms—probably Vikken, though it was impossible to be sure—and they seemed to be holding sidearms. Alo hunkered down beside Panglor and whispered, "I wish we could hear them." Panglor shushed her and strained his ears. He edged one way and then the other, behind the crates, and suddenly found a spot where he could hear the voices of the men and Tiki, distantly.
"We're looking for a human like us," said one of the men. His voice sounded unnatural; perhaps it was a trick of distance. "We have to find him."
"Whatever for?" asked Tiki. "Don't you have enough?"
The man replied, in confusion, "Have you seen this human, is what I'm asking. We're trying to find him because—we're just trying to find him. We think he came this way."
"Yah. We think he came this way," echoed the second man.
"I don't know what to say. It's been simply ages since anyone like yourselves came by here," said Tiki. "I've seen all sorts of people, of course, human and—" his words became unintelligible "—and—" unintelligible "—and—"
"Yeah, yeah—right," interrupted the first man. "Look, we'd be interested in all that, except for the fact—the fact is, we're shipwrecked here, and we—we—"
"Of course you are. Everyone here is shipwrecked," Tiki said.
"—we've got to get this guy, because, well, he's the one put us here. And Jeeb sent us out to find him and told us not to bother coming back unless we did." The crewman broke off, coughing. He looked terribly upset.
Panglor trembled, absorbing what the man had said.
The second man added in a wounded tone, "That just wasn't like Jeeb. Cap'n Drak, maybe, or some of those others we were lucky enough not to get—they're bastards, they are, some of them—but not Jeeb. Why, Tal, he'd as soon tell the cap'n himself not to come back as he would talk that way to his crew."
A sudden, terrible heat made Panglor sweat.
"Pangly, what's the matter?" whispered Alo, crowding close. LePiep peered up, emanating concern.
Jeeb. Tal Jeebering? Panglor swallowed, clamping down a rush of emotions. Steady, Balef, steady. Tal Jeebering was a Vikken officer he had worked under, briefly—the only Vikken officer who was not a rat-buggering dog, the only officer who had treated him with a semblance of human dignity.
"Pangly!" Alo hissed. "What's wrong?"
He shut his eyes, trembling. Now Jeeb was on this planet. Marooned, with the rest of the Deerfield crew. He had done that—Panglor Balef had done that, to the only decent man in the Vikken fleet. And now that man wanted Panglor's head. And who could blame him?
An elbow caught him in the ribs, j
olting him from the depths of guilt. He met Alo's eyes, dark hazel and intent. She gestured, palms up, trying to make him speak.
"I know that guy they're talking about," he whispered, finally. "One of the Deerfield officers. The guy who told them not to come back without me." Alo stared back, uncomprehending. He realized, then, that she hadn't heard the men's voices; she had no idea what he was talking about.
"Listen," he said, pointing into the sunlight. He blinked and squinted. Tiki and the two men were closer now; Tiki kept moving in front of them as though to halt their progress, but the men just kept walking by him.
Panglor shifted slightly and heard the first man say, "We've got to search your ship." The man rushed past Tiki in an exaggerated movement. Tiki hopped back, startled. The man jumped, startled by Tiki's movement, and pointed his weapon at the Kili. "Going to search your ship. You don't mind, I don't mind. Right?" Tiki blinked and trilled. The man grunted and waved his partner along. With Tiki following, they approached and surveyed the ship.
"What do you think?" hissed Alo. "Can we ambush them?"
Panglor squinted sideways. His thigh muscles were cramped from squatting behind these crates; his knees, his ankles, and his back all hurt. His left foot was jammed against some kind of machinery, and something else was poking into his side. He did not feel quite up to jumping out at armed men. "Let's get inside," he hissed back.
Alo raised her eyebrows, but looked relieved. "All right, let's go," she whispered. Panglor grunted. His muscles didn't want to coordinate. He edged back toward the inner passage, then hesitated, still squatting, and tried to figure a concealed route across the compartment. Alo jarred him from behind, and he tumbled forward, knocking cartons over with a clatter.
"Hey!" a man yelled. Panglor scrambled to his feet, still holding LePiep—and saw a Deerfield crewman blocking the sunlight. The man squinted into the gloom, brandishing a nervie.
Panglor jumped back for cover—then saw Alo standing, exposed. "Get down!" he hissed.
The crewman started and yelled, "Stop, you!" He fired the nervie. The gun belched a bright-blue fireball, which zigzagged slowly through the air. The ball hovered in the center of the compartment and then exploded into a whizzing display of fireworks: streamers and fire-flowers and stroboscopic images of wildcats chasing each others' tails. The fireworks ended with a pop.
Panglor and Alo blinked at each other, and at the crewman. The crewman blinked, baffled. Then his partner entered the ship and the spell broke. "How did you do that?" the first man shouted. He pointed the nervie with both hands.
Panglor laughed. "I didn't," he cackled, shaking his head. Then he fell silent. Nervie or no nervie, they were caught.
"Okay, you," the crewman ordered. "You're coming with—" His voice dropped. Alo was bristling indignantly, and he had just noticed her. "Who are you?" he growled.
"Alo," she said. "Who are you?"
The second crewman squinted and brought his weapon to bear. Tiki slipped in behind both, watching. "Alo, huh?" said the first man. "And you?" He waved his gun at Panglor.
"That's Panglor Balef. Captain Panglor Balef, of The Fighting Cur," Alo said sharply. Panglor stood mute, trying to analyze the situation. It analyzed badly, so he tried it again another way. Alo said, "You haven't told us who you are."
The two men exchanged scowls, and the first said, "We're from Deerfield, as if you didn't know. Spacer Godspey"—he hooked a thumb at his partner—"and I'm Spacer Turret. We've been looking for you for days. Now you two are taking a walk with us. Back to face the music. And boy, are you—"
"Is Tal Jeebering an officer on your ship?" interrupted Panglor.
Turret glared and said, "Yeah, and he's going to chew you so bad you'll wish—"
"He's a good man," said Panglor abruptly, and taking Alo by the arm, he stalked past Turret and Godspey and out of the ship. He nodded to Tiki, who fell in beside them. LePiep muttered in his arms.
The two crewmen charged after them.
"You hold it right there!" Godspey shouted. Panglor stopped, looked back, and dug at the bank with his toe while he waited for the men to catch up.
"Get on the com," Turret ordered his partner. "Tell Jeeb we've found them, and ask him what we should do about this alien." He silently guarded his captives, while Godspey attempted to contact Deerfield on his personal com. The sputter of static was audible to everyone.
"Can't get anything," Godspey said.
"All right. We start walking, then. You, there—alien—you can come if you want, but we won't force you." Turret waved his weapon at Tiki.
"Why, that is most generous of you," replied Tiki.
"You being sarcastic?" Turret squinted. "Never mind. Balef, you and the girl start walking. That animal—you can't bring it. Leave it here."
Panglor eyed him, then said, "Let's go, Alo." Together they set off in the direction they had originally come from. Panglor stroked LePiep as he walked, and she crooned unperturbedly.
"You hear me?" growled Turret. "Leave the animal."
Sighing, Panglor turned. "Shoot me," he suggested. LePiep whistled in delight, encouraging him. He shushed her.
Turret and Godspey advanced threateningly. "That's enough of that!" shouted Godspey. Suddenly he whirled, gaping. Tiki had vanished. He had been walking alongside Panglor, and now he was gone. Godspey made gurgling noises.
Alo nudged Panglor and grinned. Panglor shrugged in bewilderment, but chuckled. The crewmen were looking around furiously.
"What's the matter?" said Tiki, standing beside Panglor. He stretched and contracted his mouth oddly.
Panglor choked. "Where'd you go?" he whispered. LePiep chittered, enjoying what she obviously took to be a game.
Turret swung around and caught sight of Tiki. He glared indignantly. "Are you planning to cause trouble?" he snapped.
"Why, what are you all talking about?" Tiki asked. He started to fade, becoming partly transparent. "Oh. Oh, I see," he said hollowly and became solid again. "Yes, yes. No trouble. I don't have guests often. Why would I cause trouble?" His eyes skewed, and he started to fade, but then became solid again. "I'm not sure if I'll be staying here with you just now," he added hastily. "I'll let you know."
Turret started to reply, but another voice interrupted—neither a human voice nor the Kili's. It was a tenor sort of voice, and it muttered sonorously for perhaps five or six seconds. A deeper voice took its place, speaking in an altogether different tongue. Panglor cocked his head, trying to recognize the sounds. "What's that?" cried Turret, swinging his weapon wildly.
"Voices," Tiki said.
Turret went red in the face and for a moment looked apoplectic. But finally he spoke through gritted teeth. "What voices?" There was a distinct crack to his own voice.
"Oh, well, I couldn't tell you specifically," answered Tiki. "Not anyone around here, I'm sure. Possibly they're from another discontinuity, from across space."
Turret and Godspey stared at each other. Godspey was making quiet, funny noises, and that worried Panglor a little; the man might be on the verge of some kind of breakdown. Panglor cleared his throat and said, "Uh, maybe we should keep on moving—"
A new sound interrupted him, a melodic tone like the voice of a whale. It, too, came out of thin air, but its source sounded very close by.
Tiki beamed, obviously recognizing this voice. "Why, that's . . . [unintelligible]. I haven't spoken with her in so long! How I would love to see her again!" he cried. He wavered, almost disappearing, then solidified long enough to say, "Do have a pleasant time, all of you. I'll speak with you again." Then he vanished. LePiep chirruped curiously and continued peering toward the spot where the Kili had been standing.
"Oh no!" cried Alo.
"All right!" Turret snarled—fed up, and obviously shaken. "Let's get going!"
"We were going," Panglor said mildly, "until you stopped us. So let's go."
Turret gestured silently with the gun. They started walking.
The terrain had turned o
ddly lush. Exotic bushes and trees lined the path, glistening waxily under a billowing red sun. The tree leaves and stems resembled plastic, yet felt alive, venting moisture and breath. Panglor felt an illogical sense of ease, walking with LePiep perched on his shoulder radiating contentment, humming and purring as though all were going exactly as planned. After a time, at Alo's request, he passed the ou-ralot over to her. It occurred to Panglor that compared to these two Vikken men he was staying sane, keeping his equilibrium very well indeed. Now, that was a reversal from the usual state of affairs, and he rather relished it.
None of them knew where they were going, of course. Turret and Godspey followed, guns drawn, as Panglor and Alo picked their own direction. But after about an hour, it seemed, they sighted The Fighting Cur over an outcropping—her hull gleaming dustily in the sun. As they circled past the intervening ridge, the ship shifted in perspective disconcertingly, but did not disappear.
They emerged onto the grassy plain. Deerfield was about a kilometer off in the distance, but several of its crew stood guard at the base of The Fighting Cur. The sloping promontory to the Cur's hatch was gone.
"Hey!" Turret yelled. "Call Jeeb! We got them!"
The guards jumped to attention. One of them darted off toward Deerfield. The others met the party.
Out of the group, a wiry little man strode aggressively up to Panglor and squinted. "So!" he growled. His slitted eyes flickered menacingly. Then he blinked in confusion and stepped back without another word, his eyes dazed. Another man said threateningly, "No way you're getting back in your ship." He hefted a co-beam gun large enough to crater the side of a spaceship. Panglor grunted noncommittally and edged closer to Alo. He hoped that the man wasn't crazed enough to actually use that weapon.
LePiep peered at the men and muttered curiously. She was scarcely fazed by their bullying postures. "Hrrrl," she rumbled, hanging over Alo's arm.
Turret waved them all on toward Deerfield.
Alo set LePiep back up on Panglor's shoulder and took his arm. "We'll show them, Pangly," she murmured. Panglor nodded, but he wasn't nearly so confident.
Panglor Page 15
