Shadow World

by A. C. Crispin

  "It is a promise," agreed the Elpind solemnly.

  In the privacy of her minuscule cabin, Cara changed into a red dress that showed off her slim waist and had a swirly skirt

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  perfect for dancing. A gold belt, gold sandals, and a touch of gold sparkle in the sable hair that she fluffed naturally around her face completed the look.

  On impulse she left the tiny gold sensor patch on her cheekbone. Though she didn't plan to do any filming tonight, she suspected her face would feel naked now without it ... and it certainly coordinated with her outfit.

  "You look wonderful," Mark said sincerely, the minute she opened her cabin door to him.

  "So do you." Cara eyed him admiringly. He was wearing a well-cut, black, one-piece outfit. The ivory silk jacket over it made his shoulders look even broader. Something was missing, however. "Where's Eerin?"

  "In one of the viewer lounges checking out the computer links. Hin didn't want to sit around and waste time while I got ready. We'll go pick hin up."

  "I don't see how Eerin crams so much information in one brain," Cara said as they headed toward the lounge. "Hin must have another one secreted somewhere. Have you figured it out?"

  Mark shook his head. "I'm just glad to let the computer take over the job of answering hin's questions for a while."

  "Constant, huh?"

  "Well, during our two weeks together, I was interrogated on everything from Earth history to my bodily functions. One morning, I had to name every plant and tree in the Earth section of the botanical dome, a predicament my Simiu botany teacher of two years ago thoroughly enjoyed witnessing, I can tell you!"

  Cara was laughing, her reaction encouraging Mark to go on.

  "And food!" he said with a comical groan. "Not a bite went in my mouth that I didn't have to describe, from growth cycle to preparation!"

  "That's not true," protested Cara, giggling. "I ate with you two lots of times.

  Eerin only did that at lunch and dinner. Breakfast, hin was too hungry to talk ..."

  Mark rolled his eyes at her attempt to set the facts straight. "I think I had to take half of StarBridge apart to show Eerin how this thing worked or what that thing looked like inside. Whew!"

  "I know, I saw," Cara agreed with a chuckle. "In spite of 85

  it all, you seem to really like Eerin."

  "I do. Very much. Hin is honest and open-minded and enthusiastic about everybody and everything. A positive attitude, you know. Just being around Eerin has helped me a lot these past couple of weeks," he added thoughtfully, then looked embarrassed.

  "Mark." Cara stopped him in the corridor with a hand on his arm. "I, uh, heard that you lost your mother a few months ago. There was never a good time to tell you how sorry I am, but after tomorrow, we won't see each other, so it's now or never. I just wish I could express ..."

  Mark put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. "I know.

  And thanks," he said quietly. Instead of continuing down the corridor, he leaned back against the bulkhead. Cara could see he had something on his mind. Once they reached the party there'd be no chance to talk privately.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  He shrugged, obviously ill at ease, suddenly seeming much younger than usual. "I meant to talk to Rob about this before we left, but I chickened out.

  Eerin's been good for me in a lot of ways, but I don't think I've been good for hin. I think Rob made a mistake pairing us."

  "Why?"

  "Hin's culture, with so much emphasis on death ... the Mortenwol every day, you know ..."

  She nodded.

  "Well"--he bit his lip--"I haven't really been able to relate to Eerin the way I should have, just because the whole subject of death makes me ...

  uncomfortable. To put it mildly. And Eerin sensed how I felt. Hin would have been stupid not to ... I wasn't very subtle with my reaction."

  "I think that's understandable, given your situation," Cara said comfortingly.

  "I'm sure hin knows why you feel as you do ..."

  He shook his head. "I worry that by not accepting a part of Elpind culture, I might make Eerin feel ... rejected. As if I disapproved of hin."

  "Why don't you ask Eerin if that's how hin feels?" Cara suggested. "You said hin was honest. You'll get an answer you can deal with."

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  Mark grimaced. "That's the obvious solution," he admitted. "But since Mom ...

  died ... I haven't been dealing with things very well. I've been evidencing what Rob calls 'displacement' and 'avoidance' behaviors." He smiled wryly as he quoted.

  "That doesn't mean that pattern of behavior has to continue," she pointed out. "You can start changing things by talking to Eerin, little by little, about painful subjects. Hin will understand, I know hin will."

  Mark nodded, his hazel eyes thoughtful. "You're right," he said slowly, then added, "I was so relieved to learn the other day that Eerin has a good chance at a longer lifespan. I just hope they get that Elhanin research under way again quickly."

  "You'd better hope the WirElspind doesn't decide to bow to the Wospind's pressure," Cara said.

  "They won't!" Mark exclaimed. "Surely they'll ask that the research be continued! It's not as though anyone's going to force the Wospind to take the Elhanin."

  "Where does Eerin stand personally on this?" asked Cara. "Did you get the impression hin would choose to take it?"

  Mark looked startled. "Of course hin would," he said quickly, then frowned.

  "At least ... I hope so. Eerin's too smart not to take advantage of something so wonderful. Maybe I'll ask hin about that, too."

  He stood considering for a moment, then smiled and straightened up.

  Ceremoniously he offered her his arm. "Enough gloom and doom. Are you ready to party, Ms. Hendricks?"

  Cara grasped the crook of his elbow and gave it a little squeeze. She smiled brilliantly. "Ready, willing, and able!"

  I should get some rest, Cara thought, hours later, then chuckled inwardly. In just another three or four hours she'd be deep in hibernation, resting for the next three months.

  The buffet was delicious, making it torture to stop nibbling from it when midnight came. The music and the sound system that delivered it were both excellent, and Mark, she discovered, was a terrific dancer. Fast or slow, it didn't matter--he had an instinctive feel for the rhythm and knew just how to take her along with him.

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  The two humans had spent the entire evening together, because Eerin, after a few minutes of watching the dancers crowded in the center of the noisy lounge, had adamantly declined to try the activity. Hin had returned to the viewing lounge to continue with some computer research that the Elpind declared (obviously loving the new English word) "mesmerizing."

  The crowd was congenial, and Cara spent nearly as much time chatting as she did dancing. The journalist found herself wishing she didn't have to go into hibernation so quickly. Having time to get to know some of these people better would have been a wonderful opportunity.

  She tried out her fledgling Mizari on a youngster away from his homeworld of Shassiszss for the first time and was pleased that he was so impressed. She met an elderly Heeyoon male whose name translated as "Nightsinger"; he wanted to hear all about her trip to StarBridge. They conversed by voder. A Terran fiction author, whose name she recognized, talked writing with her, and a tall, dark-haired, fortyish man from the colony world of New Am cut in on Mark to dance with her several times.

  "His name is Ryan and he's going to Earth to bring his fiancee back out with him," she told Mark as they kept time to an intricate beat. "They've corresponded for twelve years by holo-message and now they're going to actually meet and get married. Isn't that romantic?"

  "Then what's he doing dancing your feet off?" Mark grumbled, with an air of assumed for could it be genuine? she wondered) jealousy.

  Cara laughed. "You are a flirt, Mr. Kenner," she accused.

  "Never!" he maintained, twirling her until she was brea
thless. "I'm always sincere when I'm with a beautiful girl."

  They both liked the Asimov's Captain. The party had officially begun with the First Mate's introduction of Captain Lee Loachin to the crowd, and Cara had been mildly surprised when a petite woman with exotic Asian features stepped forward to accept the polite applause. She was small-boned and delicate in her sparkling blue evening gown, but the way she held herself and the level look in her dark eyes spoke of steel fiber. Cara guessed she was somewhere in her fifties.

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  The Captain circulated through the crowd. Friendly, but reserved, Cara decided, watching her. Don't forget, this is just part of her job. But when it came their turn to meet her, Loachin's face grew suddenly animated.

  "You are the two we picked up from StarBridge Academy! Are you students there?"

  Mark shook her offered hand. "Mark Kenner, Captain. Yes, I'm a student there. This is Cara Hendricks, journalist. She came out from Earth to do a documentary on us."

  "And now you are going back?" the Captain said, shaking Cara's hand, too.

  "What did you think of the place?"

  "Of StarBridge? I was impressed," said Cara. "It's everything you hear about it and more."

  "Good," Loachin said emphatically. "I have a granddaughter who's being profiled this year. Her dream since she was practically a baby has been to go to the Academy. That's why I always notice who we pick up from

  StarBridge on this run, so I can ask them about the school."

  "We'd be happy to answer any questions you might have," Mark offered, and the three of them spent a pleasant half hour chatting before the Captain was called away.

  But it was Mark who made the most interesting contact of the evening. His hazel eyes shining with excitement, he called Cara over as she stood chatting again with Ryan. Coiled beside him was a stately, beautifully patterned black and silver Mizari. And hovering near them both was one of the insectoids from the planet humans had dubbed "Apis."

  Dr. Zenez, the StarBridge dietician that Cara had seen on her first day there, was one of the wasplike Apis. This being was of the other Apis group, resembling a meter-long bee with a large, furry body. Black strips circled her honey-colored "fur." Her fore and aft limbs looked incongruously delicate in contrast to the sturdy, fuzzy little bundle that was her torso. Stubby wings that beat so fast they seemed to be merely vibrating kept her aloft in the air.

  "Cara, I'd like you to meet Esteemed Sarozz and his traveling companion and colleague, R'Fzarth. Cara Hendricks, from Earth, a journalist," Mark said.

  Cara respectfully made the Mizari greeting gesture she'd learned, while the young man went on, "They're bioscientists,

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  Cara, and guess where they're headed? Elseemar! The CLS is sending them out to organize the survivors of the medical research team and see what can be salvaged of their data."

  "The loss of the researchers there was tragic," said Cara, allowing her voder to do the work this time rather than struggling herself for the Mizari words.

  "Did either of you have friends among the victims?"

  No, the Apis said, via her voder, but the Mizari nodded an affirmative, the light glimmering in soft colors off his iridescent headscales with the movement. "A dear friend, with whom I had worked for many years," Sarozz said. His tentacles waved in agitation.

  "I'm so sorry," Cara said.

  "Your friend would probably be glad to know that you are going to carry on the research," Mark suggested softly.

  "Indeed he would," agreed the Mizari. "He learned to care deeply for the gentle Elspind. I know he wished to find a way to allow them to live longer."

  "Are you apprehensive about going there?" Cara asked. "Do you think there'll be any more trouble?"

  "We have been fully apprised of the Wospind and their protests," answered the Apis, R'Fzarth, "and, of course, the team will be on guard now as it was not before." The voder projected a thin, reedy voice. "But we do not anticipate trouble again of that magnitude. They have made their statement and now will surely realize they cannot actually stop progress through violence. It never works."

  "Cara, I want to take them back to meet Eerin," Mark said. "Hin can answer a lot of their questions about Elseemar."

  Cara went with the three of them, curious about Eerin's reaction to meeting replacements for the medical research team. But if Eerin had any

  reservations about more scientists going to Elseemar, hin did not display them in front of Sarozz and R'Fzarth. They entered into a lively discussion on the flora and fauna of the mountains around Lalcipind where the lab was located.

  Mark enjoyed testing his knowledge of Elspindlor, and he, the two scientists, and Eerin all chattered away in that language. Cara was stifling a yawn and trying to decide whether

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  to go back to her cabin, or the lounge, when Captain Loachin appeared to invite Eerin forward for an introduction to the crew and passengers as a visiting dignitary.

  "It was a great party," Cara said, sighing, several hours later as she walked with Mark and Eerin back toward their cabins. The Asimov's arbitrary

  "morning" had arrived. "And I'm so tired, I'm actually looking forward to hibernation."

  Mark nodded. "I haven't enjoyed myself like that in a long while. You're quite a dancer."

  "So are you," Cara said. "Thanks for teaching me that new tango-glide."

  He bowed and grinned. "Definitely my pleasure." Cara held out her hand, but instead of shaking it, Mark gave it a gentle squeeze, then held it for a second before letting her go.

  She colored a little, then managed a smile. Better watch yourself, girl, she thought, he'd be easy to fall for, and that's all you need! "Good night, Mark,"

  she said.'

  "Good night."

  Alone in her cabin, she rested for a few minutes, then changed quickly into the comfortable coveralls that she would wear while hibernating. Then she repacked her caryon, carefully checking the autocam before tucking it into her folded clothes, and stowed the bag in one of the two lockers provided for that purpose inside the cabin. Others might use this cabin during the three months that she slept, but the sensor plate of the locker she chose would open only at the touch of her palm.

  Before long, it was time to report to the hibernation chamber. Cara stepped out in the hall to find Mark and Eerin waiting, with a white-coated medical attendant.

  "You'll have to say good-bye to your friends here," the woman told Eerin.

  "Only those going into cold-sleep and authorized crew personnel are allowed in the hiber room."

  Eerin blinked, and the Elpind's beautiful golden eyes looked sad. Cara hesitated, wondering how she should say goodbye to the little alien. A hug was what she felt like giving, but she'd never so much as touched Eerin, and she didn't know how the alien might view such a gesture.

  Eerin solved the problem for her. Hin leaped over, with that marvelously graceful energy, and held out hin's hands.

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  Eerin's bony forearms were turned with the underside of wrists and forearms held up.

  "Hold your arms out," instructed Mark, "except turned the opposite way so that your arms fit over Eerin's."

  "This is a parting between those who are close," the Elpind said slowly, in hin's stilted English.

  "Oh, Eerin, thank you. I'm honored." She placed her arms carefully over Eerin's so that, wrist to elbow, vulnerable skin to vulnerable skin, they fit together. The Elpind was warm to the touch, and the soft down tickled just a bit.

  "Cara has enriched hin's time."

  Tears stung Cara's eyes. It was a beautiful farewell phrase, belonging, as it did, to a race that placed such a high value on the use of time.

  "You have enriched my time, too, Eerin. I'll always remember you." Gently she disengaged and stepped back, suddenly feeling let-down and even wearier than before. It really was over now, her great adventure.

  Mark touched the Elpind gently on one shoulder, and Cara realized they must have already said their goo
d-byes in the cabin. At least theirs are only temporary, Cara thought. In a month Mark would be awakened, and they would share their pair project assignment. The journalist tried not to feel envious.

  The hibernation chamber was cold--not as cold as the unit itself would be, but still, cold. Cara shivered and looked around curiously. It was much like the one on the ship she'd come out on, the S.V. Marion.

  A double row of units, sixty in all, lined the circular room, with wedge-shaped master control panels filling in the corners created by the rectangular units themselves. Another twenty units were grouped in the center of the room, set in deep grooves in the flooring and strongly form-welded to center stanchions.

  Small windows were set into the side and top of each unit. Face after sleeping face could be dimly seen, each one composed, oblivious, and somehow very vulnerable to Cara's stare. She shivered again, feeling like an intruder into their privacy.

  "Let's not say good-bye," Mark said. "I'll be back on Earth within the year. Is it all right if I call you then? Maybe we

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  could get together ... catch each other up on the news."

  Cara smiled at him warmly. "I'd like that. I don't think I could handle another good-bye. When I see you, you can tell me all about the pair project on Berytin."

  He nodded. "I didn't have time yet to have that talk with Eerin, but I will as soon as I get out of hibernation. Thanks again for the advice last night."

  "You're welcome," she said softly.

  The technicians were getting restless.

  Cara smiled awkwardly. "Well ... see you on Earth, okay?"

  He nodded once more, with a quick smile, and then turned to follow the technician to the other end of the chamber. Cara turned to the one waiting for her.

  "Have you done this before?" asked the technician, leading her to an empty unit on the first row. "Do you want me to explain how it works?"

  "I've done it before," she reassured the woman. And I'm going to do it again someday. I'm going to see the Fourteen Known Worlds--every one of them.

  I'm coming back out here, I swear it.

  Cara remembered Rob's admonition to look forward, not back. "I'll remember, Rob," she muttered.