Transvergence

by Charles Sheffield

  Darya had postponed making that decision, then forgotten all about it. The question was, had Quintus Bloom told the full story about Labyrinth's difficulties and possible dangers? The direct path was more economical, but there was that small voice talking again in her ear. The voice was a nuisance, but Darya had learned not to ignore it.

  "How far are you in the description of the artifacts?"

  "I am studying the hundred and thirty-third."

  "Do you have any overall comment?"

  It was an unfair question. Darya had not reached even a tentative conclusion until she had reviewed five times that number of Bloom's artifact summaries.

  Kallik's exoskeleton permitted no facial mobility. But she did jitter a pair of forelimbs, which showed that she was not quite at ease. "I have an impression. It is too unformed to be termed an analysis."

  "Say it anyway."

  "The distinguished Quintus Bloom is a most accomplished writer. His descriptions are always clear, and they contain no redundancies. The taxonomy of artifacts that he offers is unlike anything that I have ever seen before."

  Kallik paused. Darya waited. So far, the comments matched her own feelings exactly. Was there more? Kallik seemed to be paralyzed, not even her eyes moving.

  "I have only one concern." This time the pause was even longer. "In assigning an artifact to one of his defined classes, Quintus Bloom never misuses or misinterprets any part of an artifact description. Occasionally, however, it seems to me that he does neglect to mention some relevant aspect of an artifact. And those omitted elements tend to be ones that would argue against assignment of an artifact to the class he chooses."

  Jackpot! Darya could have hugged Kallik, only you didn't take liberties like that with a Hymenopt.

  What Kallik had said agreed precisely with Darya's own growing conviction. Quintus Bloom was smart, he was creative, he was plausible. He had done an excellent job in summarizing the artifacts, and displayed great originality in devising his system of artifact classes. His sin was something that scientists had done for thousands of years. Scientists didn't usually change data, not unless they were outright charlatans. But when facts didn't agree with theory, there was an awful temptation to find reasons for rejecting the offending data and hanging on to the theory. Ptolemy had done it. Newton had done it. Darwin had done it. Einstein had done so explicitly. And now Quintus Bloom was at it. The big question was, had he done it just this once, or was this a pattern than ran through all his work including his description of Labyrinth? Did that artifact have some unmentioned hidden property, one that might kill unwary explorers?

  "I hope that my premature thoughts are of some use to you." Kallik was still standing in front of Darya, but not looking at her.

  "They were exactly what I needed." Darya followed the rows of watching eyes, and saw to her surprise that half a sandwich lay soggy and forgotten on the console. Even though she was starving, she had been too absorbed to eat. She picked up her food and took a huge bite. "That makes the decision for us," she said, through a mouthful of bread and salad. "Thank you. Tell J'merlia that we have to visit Jerome's World before we go to Labyrinth. We have to find out more about Quintus Bloom. I want to know what he was doing before he started work on Builder artifacts."

  Chapter Eleven

  The sun was setting on Sentinel Gate, and Louis Nenda was watching it.

  Amazing. No outpouring of poisonous gases, which you had to look forward to when the sun went down on Styx. No screaming gale, which marked sunrise and sunset on Teufel. No torrents of boiling rain, like Scaldworld, where anyone outside at the wrong time was brought back in medium-well-done. No mosquitoes the size of your hand, like those on Peppermill, dive-bombers that zoomed in and sank their three-inch probe into any square centimeter of exposed flesh.

  Just people laughing in the distance, and bird song, and flowers that faded in the dusk and reserved their most delicate and subtle perfumes for the evening hours.

  And, any minute now, Glenna Omar.

  Atvar H'sial could think what she liked, but Louis was not looking forward to this. At least, not all that much.

  He had protested, perhaps rather more than was justified, in an earlier discussion with Atvar H'sial.

  "I do all the work, while you sit here loafing."

  "Are you suggesting that I am a plausible substitute for you in this activity? That my body is an acceptable alternative to yours, in your bizarre human mating rituals?"

  "You'd drive her screaming up the wall. But what about me? Am I supposed to be offered up as a sort of human sacrifice to Glenna Omar, on the off-chance that we'll learn from her where J'merlia went? You just want your interpreter back, that's all, so you can communicate easily with humans."

  "I am working on alternative communication methods. And if I locate J'merlia, you also locate Kallik, and"—Atvar H'sial's speech took on sly pheromonal insinuations—"you locate the human female, Darya Lang. I need to discuss with her the changes in the Builder artifacts, but I wonder if your implied rejection of the female Glenna Omar derives from some prior commitment on your part to the Lang person. I wonder if that is the primary cause of your reluctance to meet with Glenna Omar."

  "Did I say I wouldn't meet with Glenna? Of course I'll meet with her. Tonight. We already arranged that." And if a few hectic hours with Glenna Omar was what it took to banish Atvar H'sial's suspicions about Louis and Darya Lang, it was a small price to pay.

  Louis was prepared to pay it now. At sunset, in the third arbor down the hill from where Hans Rebka had been staying.

  It was sunset, it was the third arbor, he was here. But where was Glenna?

  He heard a woman's laughter from higher on the hill. Half-blinded by the setting sun, he squinted in that direction. He heard a braying male laugh in reply.

  Glenna was approaching; and she was not alone.

  Relief and disappointment both seemed premature. Louis stood up and walked toward the couple. Glenna came undulating along the path, her hand laid possessively on the arm of the tall man at her side. She was wearing a long-sleeved, high-necked gown of pale green that left a minimum of exposed skin and made her appear positively virginal.

  "Hello, Louis." She smiled at him warmly. "I hoped we'd find you here. There's been a change of plans. I was in the middle of a discussion with Professor Bloom—"

  "Quintus."

  "Quintus." Glenna snuggled close to her companion. "And we hadn't finished talking. So he invited me to continue through dinner. And naturally . . ."

  "No problem." Louis meant it. He admired real nerve, and there was no hint of apology in Glenna's manner. "Hello, Professor. I'm Louis Nenda."

  "Indeed?" Bloom removed his arm from Glenna's grasp and offered a limp-fingered wave of the hand. He regarded Louis with the enthusiasm of a man meeting a Karelian head louse, the sort that popped out of a hole in the rock and nipped your head off with one snip of the mandibles. "And what do you do?"

  "Businessman, mostly, for exploration projects. Last trip I was out at the Torvil Anfract, came back via the Mandel system."

  "Indeed?" Bloom had turned to look back up the hill even before Louis answered the question.

  Glenna lingered a moment, her fingers on Louis's bare arm.

  "He's an absolute genius," she whispered. "I do hope you understand, but given a chance like this . . ."

  "I said, no problem." I know that game, sweetheart. You take the one you want right now, but be sure to put the other one in cold storage in case you need him later. "Go and enjoy your dinner."

  "Some other time, though, you and me?"

  "You bet."

  Glenna squeezed his arm happily. But Quintus Bloom had turned, and was sauntering back with a frown on his face.

  "I say. Something you said just now. Did you mention the Torvil Anfract?"

  "Sure did. I just came back from there, way out in the Zardalu Communion."

  "That's the name that the Lang woman mentioned the other evening at dinner." Bloom was ex
plaining to Glenna, while managing to ignore Louis. "She said that it was a Builder artifact, but of course as Professor Merada pointed out, there is no evidence of that. If it were an artifact, however, that could be a finding of enormous significance." Bloom at last turned directly to Louis. "Do you know Darya Lang?"

  "Certainly."

  "Was she at the Anfract with you, by any chance?"

  "At it, and in it. Right in it."

  "Three days ago, after our dinner, she left the institute." Bloom lifted his gaze above Louis's head, and stood staring at nothing. "She told no one where she was going. So almost certainly . . ."

  Quintus Bloom didn't spell out his thought processes to Louis. He didn't need to. Louis had the answer to the next question ready, even before Bloom asked it.

  "If I were to provide you with a ship, could you fly me to the Torvil Anfract?"

  "Could, and would. I even have the ship. If the price is right, I mean."

  The last sentence had come out without thinking, but Louis didn't try to kid himself. The 'right' price? Even if Bloom didn't have more than two cents, it would be enough.

  Daybreak on Sentinel Gate was, if anything, more spectacular than sunset. The air was magically clear, the flowers and shrubs touched with fragrant dew. The birds, awake but not yet in motion, sang a dawn chorus from within their hidden roosts.

  Glenna, strolling back to her house, noticed none of this. She was frequently heading home in the early daylight hours, and the charms of daybreak's plant and animal life left her unmoved. She was, in fact, feeling faintly disappointed. Quintus seemed to like her well enough, and to enjoy their long hours together. They had talked, and laughed, eaten and drunk, and talked again. They had wandered arm-in-arm around the Institute, inside and out. They had watched the romantic setting of Sentinel Gate. The touch of his hand on Glenna's shoulder had set all her juices flowing. And then, when everything seemed ready to go full speed ahead, he had gone back to his own quarters instead.

  Glenna sighed. Maybe the demure dress had been a tactical error? Without spelling it out in detail, she had known faster men. In the case of Quintus Bloom, that slowness might be a deadly drawback. He was a career man, a man on the move, heading upwards and already itching to leave Sentinel Gate. In retrospect, it was a pity that she had introduced him to Louis Nenda, with his talk of the Anfract, because they would soon be on their way. Glenna might not get a second chance—at either of them.

  She was close to home, near enough to see the soft light that she left burning at night by her front porch. Near enough to see that the porch door, which she was sure had been left open, was now closed. Someone had been inside her house. Perhaps they were still in her house.

  Glenna frowned—in puzzlement, not in alarm. Theft and violence were almost unknown on Sentinel Gate. She lived alone. Maintenance and cleaning robots were punctiliously careful to leave a house's doors and windows exactly as they found them.

  She felt the delicious tingle of a desired though unexpected treat. Quintus Bloom had disappointed. He had proved regrettably diffident. But Louis Nenda would not be like that. He was a real out-worlder, a wild man from one of the rough-and-tumble planets of the Zardalu Communion. She had postponed his date, and all that went with it. But he wasn't willing to wait.

  She just loved an impatient man.

  Glenna slipped off her shoes, eased open the door, and drifted inside. The livingroom was empty, but she could smell a faint, alien musk. Of course, he would already be in the bedroom, lying waiting for her on the soft, over-sized bed. Would he have removed those dark, tight-fitting clothes? Or would he have waited, to let Glenna do it? Waited, if he was the man she hoped he was. He must know how eager she was to explore for herself the ways in which he had been augmented.

  Glenna tiptoed into the bedroom. As she approached the bed itself she paused. Louis was not lying on it. And crouched beside it—

  A great nightmare shape rose up, as high as the ceiling. A pair of long, jointed limbs swept Glenna from the floor, and her scream was muffled by a soft black paw. She was drawn in toward a broad, eyeless head, and to the thin proboscis that quivered at its center. Faint, high-pitched squeaks sounded in her ears.

  Glenna struggled, but not as hard as she might have. She had recognized the intruder. It was a Cecropian. She knew through the institute's grapevine that a female of that alien species had recently arrived there. Arrived, according to Glenna's informant, with Louis Nenda.

  "What do you want?"

  It was wasted breath, because everyone knew that Cecropians didn't speak. But the eyeless white head nodded at the sound, and carried Glenna back to the door of her living room. One black limb pointed silently through the doorway to Glenna's communications terminal, then to a gray box that sat next to it. Glenna found herself placed gently back on the floor at the doorway. She was at once released.

  She could flee—Glenna's intruder would have a difficult time squeezing back through into the living room, though she must have entered that way. However, it was hard to believe that anything that intended her real harm would have placed her where she was free to run away. Glenna walked unsteadily across to the communications terminal, and stood there waiting.

  The Cecropian eased her way through the door and crept across to the gray box. Nimble black paws began a complex dance of movement in front of it. The terminal screen came to life, displaying words: SPEAK YOUR HUMAN SPEECH. THIS DEVICE WILL INTERPRET IT.

  "Who are you? Who are you?" Glenna had to say it twice, she was so breathless. "What do you want?"

  The screen flickered to a longer statement.

  MY NAME IS ATVAR H'SIAL. I AM A CECROPIAN, AND A BUSINESS PARTNER OF THE HUMAN, LOUIS NENDA. IF YOU ARE THE HUMAN FEMALE GLENNA OMAR, I WISH TO TALK WITH YOU.

  "That's me." Glenna stared at the gray box, then at the dark-red carapace and the open twin yellow horns on the head. As she spoke, she again could hear those faint bat-squeaks of sound. "I thought that Cecropians saw with sound, and spoke to each other using some sort of smells."

  This time the words on the screen came painfully slowly.

  THAT IS INDEED THE CASE. I HAVE BUILT A DEVICE WHICH TAKES HUMAN SPEECH, AND CONVERTS IT TO A TWO-DIMENSIONAL PATTERN OF SOUNDS BEYOND YOUR FREQUENCY RANGE. I SEE THAT PATTERN AS A PICTURE, WITHIN WHICH ARE THE FORMS OF MY OWN WRITTEN LANGUAGE. I AM THUS "READING" YOUR WORDS WITHIN THAT VISUAL SOUND PATTERN. I AM "SPEAKING" IN A SIMILAR WAY, BY THE CONVERSION OF MY OWN GESTURES TO A TWO-DIMENSIONAL IMAGE, WHICH IN TURN MAPS TO THE ONE-DIMENSIONAL SOUNDS THAT YOU CALL WORDS. IT IS A CRUDE METHOD OF SPEECH, AND AN IMPRECISE ONE, BUT THE BEST THAT I CAN ATTAIN. BEAR WITH ME. TO MAKE NEW SPEECH, WORDS THAT I HAVE NOT ALREADY RECORDED, IS MOST DIFFICULT.

  "But what do you want?"

  I WISH TO OFFER YOU AN UNUSUAL OPPORTUNITY. I BELIEVE THAT YOU VERY MUCH WISH TO PERFORM SEX ACTS WITH MY PARTNER, LOUIS NENDA, AND WITH THE HUMAN QUINTUS BLOOM.

  "Well, I wouldn't put it quite that way." Glenna did her best to make allowances for a Cecropian's lack of understanding of the finer points of human social habits. "But just for the sake of discussion, what if I do?"

  A screenful of words flashed into existence. Atvar H'sial must have prepared the whole speech in advance.

  IN ORDER TO DO THAT, YOU NEED TO HAVE CONTINUED ACCESS TO THEM. THE MAN BLOOM, TOGETHER WITH LOUIS NENDA AND MYSELF, WILL SHORTLY BE LEAVING SENTINEL GATE. WE HAVE BEEN ASKED TO GUIDE QUINTUS BLOOM TO A REGION OF THE SPIRAL ARM KNOWN AS THE TORVIL ANFRACT, WHERE HE BELIEVES THAT THE HUMAN FEMALE DARYA LANG IS CURRENTLY ENGAGED IN EXPLORATION. NENDA AND I KNOW THE ANFRACT REGION WELL, AND CAN EASILY TAKE BLOOM THERE. BUT IF NENDA AND BLOOM LEAVE SENTINEL GATE, YOUR DESIRE TO COUPLE WITH THEM WILL NOT BE FULFILLED, NOR WILL YOU HAVE FURTHER ACCESS TO THEM. HOWEVER, I CAN ARRANGE FOR YOU TO GO WITH US ON OUR EXPEDITION, AS AN INFORMATION SYSTEMS SPECIALIST. OFFICIALLY YOU WILL BE HELPING ME TO ACHIEVE BETTER COMMUNICATION WITH HUMANS, EMPLOYING THE MEANS THAT WE ARE USING HERE. UNOFFICIALLY, YOU WILL HAVE FEW DUTIES, AND YOU WILL BE FREE TO PURS
UE YOUR OWN ENDS.

  "You really think I'm that keen for it? Don't bother translating and answering that. Suppose that I say I'm interested?—and I might be. I don't understand what's in it for you."

  Atvar H'sial was silent for a long time. Whether she was thinking, or just having trouble translating, Glenna could not be sure. The words came at last: MY SLAVE AND INTERPRETER, J'MERLIA, IS WITH DARYA LANG. TO GET HIM BACK, I AM MOST ANXIOUS THAT LOUIS NENDA AND I GO ON THIS JOURNEY. HOWEVER, I HAVE FOR A LONG TIME BEEN CONCERNED THAT NENDA MAY BE EMOTIONALLY UNBALANCED CONCERNING THE HUMAN FEMALE, DARYA LANG. YOU ARE, I GATHER, AN EXCEPTIONALLY ATTRACTIVE HUMAN FEMALE. AND HE IS, I BELIEVE, SUSCEPTIBLE TO YOUR CHARMS. IF YOU WERE TO TRAVEL TO THE TORVIL ANFRACT, AND LOUIS NENDA WAS TO BE EXPOSED TO BOTH OF YOU . . .

  "No contest." Glenna had taken Hans Rebka from Darya without any trouble at all; she could do the same with Louis Nenda. She was intrigued. It was at the same time something of a challenge, and a chance to become closer to Quintus Bloom. Nenda would be interesting for a while, but Bloom was something else. It would be no bad thing to wander the spiral arm as the regular consort of a recognized genius. As for his apparent shyness, she knew ways to cure that.