Infinity's Shore

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by David Brin


  The kind of parent poor orphans never had. Born on a refuge world whose crude safety had vanished, imprisoned in the bowels of an alien starship, Lark nevertheless felt drawn away from worrying about his own fate, or even the six exile clans of Jijo. After all, on the vast scale of things, his life hardly mattered. The Five Galaxies would spin on, even if every last Earthling vanished.

  Yet he found his heart torn by the tragic story of Homo sapiens, the self-taught wolflings of Terra. It was a bittersweet tale, pulling from his reluctant eyes trickles of tart brine that tasted like the sea.

  The voice was familiar . . . horrifyingly so.

  "Tell us now."

  When all three humans kept silent, the Jophur interrogator edged closer, towering over them. Anglic words hissed from atop the swaying stack of fatty rings, accompanied by liquid burblings and mucusy pops.

  "Explain to us; why did you transmit the signal that led to your capture? Did you sacrifice yourselves in order to buy time for unseen comrades? Those we most eagerly pursue?"

  It had introduced itself as "Ewasx," and part of Lark's horror lay in recognizing torus markings of the former traeki High Sage, Asx. One major difference appeared at the bottom of the'stack, where a new, agile torus-of-legs let the composite being move about more quickly than before. And silvery fibers now laced the doughy tubes, leading up to a glistening young ring that had no apparent features or appendages. Yet Lark sensed it was the chief thing turning the old traeki sage into a Jophur.

  "We detected a disturbance in the toporgic time field, imprisoning the Rothen vessel below the lake," it said. "But these tremors were well within noise variance levels, and our leaders were otherwise too busily engaged to investigate. However, we/i now clearly discern what you were trying to accomplish with this trick."

  The declaration left Lark unsurprised. Once alerted, the mighty aliens would naturally pierce his jury-rigged scheme for letting Daniks out of the trapped vessel. He only hoped thatJeni Shen, andJimi, and the others made it out before hunter robots swarmed around the Rothen time cocoon, then through the network of caves.

  while all three humans kept silent, Ewasx continued.

  "The chain of logic is apparent, revealing a persistent effort on the part of you sooners to divert us from our main purpose on this world.

  "In short, you have been attempting to distract us."

  Now Lark looked up, baffled. He shared a glance with Ling.

  What is the Jophur talking about?

  "It began several Jijo rotations ago," Ewasx went on. "Although no other crew stack thought it unusual, , was perplexed when the High Sages acceded so swiftly to our Captain-Leader's demand. I did not expect Vubben and Lester Cambel to obey so quickly, revealing the coordinates of the chief g'Kek encampment."

  Lark spoke at last. "You mean Dooden Mesa."

  He still felt guilty over how a stray computer resonance betrayed the secret colony's location. Apparently, Ewasx thought the transmission had been made on purpose.

  "Dooden Mesa, correct. The timing of the signal now seems too convenient, too out of character. Memory stacks inherited from Asx indicate a disgusting level of interspecies loyalty among the mongrel races of Jijo. Loyalty that should have delayed compliance with our demand. Normally the sages would have dithered, in hopes of evacuating the g'Keks before giving in."

  "Why did you have to wait for a signal at all?" Lark asked. "If you've got memories from Asx, you knew all along where Dooden was! Why bother asking the High

  Sages?"

  For the first time, Lark saw signs of what might be called

  an emotional response. Uneven ripples coursed several Ewasx rings, as if they were writhing from unpleasant sensations within. When it spoke next, the voice seemed

  briefly labored.

  "Reasons for incomplete data retrieval access are not

  your concern. Suffice it to say that the immurement of Dooden Mesa was gratifying to our Polkjhy Ship Commanders . . . yet I/we nursed brooding reservations within this stack of restless rings. The timing seemed too

  convenient."

  "What do you mean?" "I mean that the signal came just as we were about to

  launch our remaining corvette to succor another, which had made a forced landing beyond the mountains. That mission was postponed on learning where the chief g'Kek hideout lay. The corvette was outfitted with toporgic, to attack our sworn feud enemies, lest any escape that nest of

  wheeled vipers."

  Lark caught Rann glancing at Ling, meaningfully. Beyond

  the mountains. The Daniks had sent Kunn's scout vessel out that way, just before the Battle of the Glade. And now the Jophur reported losing a corvette in the same direction?

  Not lost. A forced landing. Still, they have strange priorities. Vengeance before rescue.

  "After dealing with Dooden Mesa, there were other delays. Then, just as we were resuming preparations to send i aid to our grounded cousins, this new distraction came about. I refer to your activity below the lake. You cleverly found some rude way to vibrate the toporgic seal around the Rothen ship. We ignored this at first, since mere soon ers could never actually penetrate the cocoon-"

  Another tremor crossed the creature's rings, though this time the voice did not pause.

  "Soon, however; there came a distraction we could not ignore. The appearance of three humans at the surface of the lake, deep within our perimeter! This event triggered alarms, concentrating our attention for a lengthy period.

  "I/we are now quite certain that was your intent all along." Lark stared in astonishment.

  Just after they were captured, he and Ling had speculated in whispers about Rann's betrayal, swimming to the surface and using the portable computer to blatantly attract Jophur attention. Ling had illuminated a likely motive.

  "Rann is more loyal to our masters than I ever imagined. He knows the Six Races possess evidence that can blow the lid off the grand Rothen deception. Helping our crew mates escape the trapped ship would just make matters worse, by exposing more Daniks to your arguments, Lark. Your evidence of genocide and other wrongs. Like me, they might be converted away from our lords.

  "Before allowing that to happen, Rann would rather let the Jophur wipe out everybody, and leave our crew sealed forever. At least that way the Rothen home clan might be safe."

  Ling's explanation had rocked Lark. But this one from Ewasx was weirder still.

  "You're saying we . . . uh, vibrated the golden shell around the submerged ship . . . in order to attract your attention? And when that didn't work, we swam up to the surface to make even more noise, trying to draw your gaze our way?"

  As he said the words, Lark realized in surprise that the scenario made more sense than what had actually happened! In comparison, it did seem improbable that primitive sooners would find a way to pierce the toporgic trap ... or that a Danik would betray his crew mates in order to keep them buried forever. There was just one logical problem.

  "But . . ." he went on. "But why would we be desperate enough to do such a thing? What aim could make such a sacrifice worthwhile?"

  The Jophur emitted an aggravated sigh.

  "You know perfectly well what aim. However, in order to establish a clear basis for interrogation, I will explain.

  "I/we know your secret," it told Lark.

  "You must certainly be in communication with the Earthling ship."

  Alvin

  THE DOLPHINS HAVEN'T GIVEN A NAME TO THIS | mountain of abandoned starships. This heap of discards I from a lost civilization, moldering at the bottom of the Midden.

  Huck wants to call it Atlantis. But for once I find her suggestion lacking imagination.

  I prefer that mythical place described so hauntingly by the great Clarke. The Seven Suns. Where my namesake found ancient relics long forgotten by titans who had moved on, leaving their obsolete servants behind.

  Remnants of a mighty past, now lost between the city and the stars.

  We don't spend much time together an
ymore. We four from Wuphon Port. We four comrades and adventurers. We've gone off in different directions, led by our own obsessions.

  Ur-ronn spends her time where you'd expect-in the engine room, eagerly learning about the hardware of a starship and getting thick as thieves with Hannes Suessi. I get an impression these dolphins aren't as good at delicate hand-eye work as an urs, so Suessi seems glad to have her around.

  It's also the driest place aboard this waterlogged cruiser. Still, I figure Ur-ronn would spend time down there even if it meant sloshing through knee-deep slush. It's where a smith belongs.

  Suessi hoped we might offer clues toward ridding Streaker's hull of a thick carbon coating. Oral traditions speak of star soot, weighing down each sneakship that reached Jijo after passing close by Izmunuti. But I never heard of a clan trying to remove it. Why would our ancestors bother, since they scuttled their arks soon after arriving?

  Anyway, why not just refurbish one of the old hulks lying under the Midden, and use it to make an escape?

  Ur-ronn says Suessi and Dr. Baskin considered the idea. But the ships are junk, after all. If the wrecks could fly well, wouldn't the Buyur have taken them along?

  For helping the engineers, Ur-ronn hopes to get some cooperation in return . . . fulfilling the assignment we were given when our little homemade Wuphon's Dream first dropped to the sea by Terminus Rock. Uriel had asked us to find a hidden cache-equipment to help the High Sages deal with intruding starships.

  Now that we know more about those invaders-a Rothen cruiser, followed later by a Jophur battleship-it seems unlikely that cache would help against forces so godlike and lofty. Anyway, Uriel and our parents must have given us up for dead, ever since the air hose tore away from Wuphon's Dream.

  Still, Ur-ronn's right. An oath is an oath.

  I can see why Dr. Gillian Baskin prefers we don't contact our folks. But I must persuade her to try.

  Pincer-Tip spends most of his time with the Kiqui-those six-limbed amphibians we once thought to be masters of this ship. Instead, they are something even more revered in the Five Galaxies-honest-to-goodness presapient beings. Pincer seems to have an affinity for them, since his red qheuen race is also adapted to live where waves meet a rocky coast. But that may just begin to cover Pincer's attraction to them.

  He talks of building a new bathy to explore the Midden. Not just this mound of dead starcraft, but some of the vast jumbled cities, filled with wonders discarded by the departing Buyur.

  Clearly he enjoyed his brief stint as captain of Wuphon's Dream. Only this time he hopes for a new crew. Agile, . obedient, water-loving Kiqui may be ideal, compared to a too-tall hoon, a prolix g'Kek, and a hydrophobic urs.

  Maybe Pincer still hopes to find real monsters.

  Huck refuses to believe anything important can take place without her. As soon as we returned with Lieutenant Tsh't, she got involved in the serious business of questioning the Jophur prisoners, taken from the wrecked scoutship.

  According to spy and adventure novels, the art of interrogation has a lot to do with language trickery. Fooling the other guy into blurting out something he never intended. That's just the kind of stuff Huck thinks she's oh so clever at. So what if Jophur are different from traeki. She expected to break their obstinate silence and get them talking.

  So imagine her shock when she rolled into their chamber and the very sight of her sent them into a fit, throwing themselves against the restraining field trying to get at her! The room filled with a stench of pure hatred.

  Strangely enough, that proved useful! For the Jophur abruptly lost their sullen muteness and started babbling. Mostly, their GalTwo and GalFive utterance streams were steeped with fuming anger. But soon the sneaky Niss Machine popped in, making insinuations and smooth-voiced

  hints. . . .

  Huck turned all four eyestalks to stare at the whirling

  hologram when it suggested the Jophur might be given this tasty g'Kek, if they cooperated! Soon, mixed among the vengeance vows and retribution exclamatives were bits of useful information, such as the name of their ship and the rank of its Captain-Leader. And one further crucial fact. Although their battlecruiser is a giant compared to outmatched Streaker, the Jophur ship came to Jijo alone.

  Huck says she knew all along that the Niss was bluffing about handing her over. In fact, she claimed a triumph, as

  if it had been her plan all along.

  I knew better 'than to comment on the green sweat coating her eye hoods. After the interview, she needed a bath.

  • • •

  Unlike the others, I can't banish all doubt.

  Have we chosen the right side?

  Oh, there seem to be good reasons for throwing our fate in with these fugitives. Humans are members of the Six, and that makes the dolphins sort of cousins, I guess. And it's true that Streaker seems more like one of our sooner sneakships than those arrogant dreadnoughts, up in the Rimmer Range. Anyway, I was brought up reading Earthling tall tales. My sentiments are drawn to the underdog.

  Still, I must keep at least one mental corner detached and uncommitted. My loyalty lies ultimately with family, sept, and clan . . . and with the High Sages of the Commons of Jijo.

  Among the four of us, someone must remember our true priorities. A time may come when they clash with our hosts'.

  How have I kept busy all this time?

  For one thing, I've been learning to skim the ship's database, extracting historical summaries of what's taken place since the Great Printing. The distilled tale is a treat to a born info hound like me.

  And yet, I still can't get that big, mist-shrouded cube out of my mind. Sometimes I hanker to sneak into that cold room and ask questions of the Branch Library-a storehouse so great that the Biblos Archive might as well be a primer for a two-year old.

  On our way back from the surface I got to know Rety-the irascible, proud human girl whose illegal tribe of savages would have shaken the Commons with a sensational scandal, in normal times. I also talked to Dwer the Hunter, who I recall visiting Wuphon, a few years back. Dwer chatted about his adventures while Physician Makanee treated his wounds, till he fell into exhausted slumber. Soon Rety collapsed, too, with her little "husband" curled alongside, a slim urrish head draped across her chest.

  For the most part, my job has been to umble.

  Yeah, that's right. To umble for a noor.

  My own pet, Huphu, doesn't know what to make of the newcomer-the one called Mudfoot. On first spying him, ;

  she hissed . . . and he hissed back, exactly like a regular noor. It was such a normal reaction that I started to doubt my own memory. Did I really hear and see Mudfoot tails!

  My assigned task is to keep him happy till he decides to

  talk again.

  I guess I owe these people-Gillian Baskin and Tsh't and

  the dolphins.

  They saved us from the abyss . . . though maybe we

  wouldn't have fallen at all, if it hadn't been for their interference.

  They fixed my broken back . . . though it was injured

  when they smashed Wuphon's Dream.

  They turned a mere adventure into an epic ... but won't let us go home for fear we'd tell the tale.

  All right, dammit. I'll umble for the silly noor. He preens and acts starved for sound anyway, after months with just

  humans for company.

  Up close I can sense a difference in him. I used to glimpse the same thing now and then, in the eyes of a few [ strange noor lounging on the Port Wuphon docks. I

  A sleek arrogance.

  A kind of lazy smugness.

  The impression that he's in on a great joke. One you won't figure out till there's egg all over your face.

  QUERY,INTERROGATIVE:

  Is there similarity between their behavior and the way you misled Me?

  The way you rings have blurred so many of the waxy memories we coinherited from Asx?

  The way our union oscillates between grudging cooperation and intermit
tent passive resistance?

  It is enough to provoke unpleasant questions.

  DON'T YOU LIKE BEING PART OF OUR MUCHIMPROVED SHARED WHOLE? OUR AMBITIOUS ONENESS?

  Yes, the majority of you claim gladness to be part of a great Jophur entity, instead of a tepid traeki melange. But can I/we really be sure that you,we love Me,us?

  The question is, in itself, a possible symptom of madness. What naturally cojoined Jophur would allow itself to entertain such doubts? The Polkjhy Priest-Stack predicted this hybridization experiment would fail. The priest foretold it would be useless to impose a master torus onto traeki rings already set in their ways.

 

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