by E. M. Foner
Beowulf skidded to an awkward halt, regarding the bear-like Cayl in puzzlement. The emperor seemed familiar somehow, despite being an alien of a sort the hound had never encountered. He heard Kelly shouting, “No, Beowulf. Down,” and her body language suggested that she was overawed by their guest. So Beowulf dropped down low, his forelegs flat on the floor and his haunches up in the air, ready to move quickly as the situation warranted.
Kelly turned to apologize to Brynt for not warning him about their giant dog, but it was the Cayl emperor’s turn to look surprised.
“Gurf?” Brynt asked, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Beowulf didn’t know what a Gurf was, but he slapped his tail on the deck to demonstrate that he was disposed to treat any guest of the McAllisters like one of the family.
Brynt dropped to the deck, his forearms stretched out flat like Beowulf’s forelegs, his own rear-end up in the air. Then he rose rapidly on all fours and galloped around to approach the dog in a flanking movement, before dropping back into the ready position.
Beowulf shifted the front of his body and gave a warning growl, and then he rose up and raced around in a circle, approaching the Cayl from behind. Before he got there, the Cayl was back up on all fours and sprinting away towards the training area, Beowulf in hot pursuit.
“Wait! Come back, Emperor!” Kelly shouted after the two racing quadrupeds, but neither of them paid attention. “Libby! Ping Joe and tell him the dog is fighting with the Cayl Emperor. Why didn’t you tell me Brynt was the leader of one of the galaxy’s military superpowers?”
“I didn’t want to make you unnecessarily nervous,” Libby replied soothingly. “He’s really a very nice fellow.”
“But why did he start chasing Beowulf?” Kelly demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious?” the Stryx librarian replied. “They’re playing.”
Across the hold, Kelly heard somebody yelp, but she wasn’t sure who.
Ten
“We’ve entered into orbit around the Cayl homeworld,” Stryx Vrine informed the humans. “I used to have a pressurized observation deck set aside for biologicals, but I’ve mainly been off by myself the last few million years, so you’ll have to make do with the hologram.”
“The accommodations are great,” Brinda said. “I never got the whole ‘windows in space’ concept anyway. Holograms are much more interesting.”
“I see plenty of forests and mountains, but it could use some more oceans,” Woojin observed. “Do we need to speak with the Cayl ground control, or are you handling all of the arrangements?”
“Young Jeeves completed the negotiations for this exchange before we left,” Vrine replied. “The Cayl have already launched a transport to intercept my orbit and bring you to your temporary lodgings.”
“That was fast,” Brinda commented. “I wonder why they’re giving us the VIP treatment?”
“The Cayl have been tracking my progress since I exited the temporary tunnel, and they supplied the course corrections for this parking orbit,” Vrine explained. “In keeping with the Cayl’s own tradition as both hosts and guests, I will comply with all reasonable requests and make myself available should they require assistance. They are among the most hospitable sentients in the galaxy.”
“But it’s a military empire, isn’t it?” Lynx objected. “What are all those giant ships floating around above the planet in the hologram?”
“Warships, primarily,” the Stryx said. “The Cayl home fleet is one of the largest combat forces maintained by biologicals in this galaxy. If they carry out their threat to wind down the empire, I plan to assign myself to this sector to observe the results.”
“It’s not a done deal?” Brinda sounded a bit disappointed. If the Cayl decided against liquidating their empire, there wouldn’t be any need for the services of SBJ Auctioneers.
“The Cayl emperor has the final word, unless his people should replace him,” Vrine replied. “I don’t believe that’s ever happened in the history of the Cayl Empire, but of course, the emperor has never dissolved the empire before. And without having been here to perform autopsies, I can’t testify as to whether all of the previous emperors have died of natural causes.”
“Will they understand us?” Lynx asked suddenly. “Libby updated our implants with the Cayl language, but we didn’t bring any of those external voice boxes for speaking with aliens.”
“Their technology is advanced well beyond any of the biological species you’re familiar with from the tunnel network, and while they favor removable translation devices over surgical implants, I know that Jeeves supplied them with translation tables for English.”
“How about food and air?” Brinda followed up. “They’ve never had human guests before, have they?”
“I don’t imagine so,” Vrine replied. “But the Cayl have been around for almost as long as I have, and they’ve long since perfected the synthesis technology required to meet the biological needs of alien species. All the same, I’m supplying you with a fresh set of diplomatic grade nose plugs to use if you venture outside and don’t want to put your trust in their veil filters.”
A cabin panel slid open and a bot carrying three sets of nose plugs entered. It also bore three necklaces with lockets for storing the plugs, which struck Lynx as overkill, since Union Station residents habitually wore their own. “I’ll just pop the new plugs in my locket and leave the old ones with the bot,” she said. “I’m used to the feel of this one.”
“The new lockets double as communication devices should you wish to contact me,” Vrine told her. “Your implants don’t generate the power levels required to penetrate a full planetary atmosphere.”
“They’d cook our brains if they did,” Woojin said, taking a locket and a set of plugs. He removed his well-worn necklace and locket combo, handed it to the bot, and watched as Brinda and his wife did the same. “Will the Cayl transport extend a mating airlock, or will we be spacewalking through an extended atmosphere retention field?”
“Ah, they’ve just arrived,” the Stryx announced. “Yes. I’ll extend a field right up to their airlock. All you have to do is jump straight.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Lynx muttered.
A section of hull that formed the outer wall of their cabin retracted, leaving the humans staring out into the void. The boundaries of the atmosphere retention field were demarcated by subdued sparkling, where ionized particles from the solar wind contacted the invisible envelope.
A stubby, cylindrical vessel hung in space, seemingly motionless against a backdrop of stars. Its open airlock was outlined by blinking green lights, but it looked impossibly small to the humans.
“Will that airlock even fit the three of us, or are we going in one at a time?” Brinda asked.
“It only looks small because of the distance,” the Stryx reassured them. “Cayl orbital regulations limit the closest approach between ships without standard empire-issued controllers to one percent of the length of the larger vessel. I am quite a large ship, and while the precaution is technically unnecessary in my case, traffic rules exist for a reason.”
“This brings back memories,” Woojin said, moving to the very edge of the surface that the humans had designated their floor in Zero-G. “It’s just like the boarding drills we used to do, except without the armored spacesuits.”
He bent his knees like a swimmer on a diving platform and used the anchor point of his magnetic cleats to pivot the rest of his body forward. Then he pushed off hard and floated in a straight line through the tunnel of air towards the Cayl transport. Somehow, he managed a slow somersault along the way and landed feet-first in the open airlock.
“Show-off!” Lynx shouted through the narrow passage of breathable air.
“I’ve reinforced the containment fields so you can’t accidentally exit the pressurized corridor,” Vrine said. When neither of the women made a move towards the opening, the Stryx added, “Would you like me to have the bot escort you?”
“Y
es,” Lynx and Brinda said simultaneously.
Once the three humans were reunited in the Cayl airlock, the bot returned to the science ship and tossed over their backpacks, which were fielded by Woojin with a series of “Oofs.” The hatch closed after the transfer was complete, and there was a gentle hiss as the pressure equalized between the atmosphere in the airlock and the interior of the shuttle. The humans noticed a slight ozone smell, as if there had been a large electrical discharge on the ship.
“Thank you for traveling as my supercargo,” Stryx Vrine said over their implants. “As long as I’m in the system, I’m going to go have a look at some of the local attractions, but I’ll be back for you when the exchange is complete. The lockets will allow you to reach me at any time.”
“Thank you,” the three subvoced in reply. A moment later, the inner door of the airlock slid open.
“Welcome to the automated shuttle service owned and operated by Orbital Transports,” a voice intoned. “Please follow the blinking lights in the deck to the passenger cabin and place yourself in an acceleration pod. You must stow your possessions in the space below your pod or in the secure locker at the front of the cabin. This transport cannot begin reentry until all safety precautions have been observed.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Woojin said, shuffling forward on his magnetic cleats. “Am I the only guy who wonders what we’ll do if we ever encounter a species that builds spaceships out of aluminum?”
“What difference does it make?” Lynx demanded.
“Aluminum isn’t ferromagnetic,” Woojin explained. “Magnetic cleats won’t work on it.”
“Sure they will,” Lynx argued. “I’ve been on lots of aluminum ships.” She turned to Brinda for support, but the Hadad girl shook her head in the negative. “Anyway, let’s get strapped in and down to the planet so we can eat some solid food, even if it is synthesized. Does anybody know what the gravity will be like?”
“A little less than we’re used to,” Brinda replied. “I asked Jeeves after he volunteered me to come along, and he said that the Cayl homeworld is a little larger than Earth, but it has less iron in the core.”
“This see-through clamshell design reminds me of a Vergallian stasis coffin,” Woojin said, after stowing his backpack in the compartment below the pod. “Looks like the lid is waiting to snap shut on us when we lie down.”
“You’re always in such a hurry to go first, so why don’t you hop in and show us,” Lynx said.
Woojin prodded the strange inner lining of the clamshell cover with a finger. The translucent material yielded easily, like a gel that was retained by little more than surface tension, and it released his finger without any suction.
“I wonder if we’re supposed to remove our clothes before we get in these things,” he said.
“No preparation is required before entering the pod,” a voice informed them. “Continue to breathe normally when the cover closes. The gel is compatible with your respiratory system and will clear itself as a gas when you reach the planet’s surface.”
“That was more information that I wanted,” the ex-mercenary remarked. He clicked his heels to turn off the magnetic cleats, and then used the pod’s handholds to pull himself into the lower half of the clamshell, stretching out to his full length on the strange surface. Even in Zero-G, his body was pulled about halfway into the gel, like he was floating on his back in a very salty ocean. The top of the clamshell closed over him without a sound.
Lynx tapped on the cover, and Woojin turned his head towards her. He looked calm, and his lips moved like he was talking, but no sound came out.
“Are you still breathing?” Lynx subvoced over their private implant channel.
“I’m fine. Stow your stuff and hop in a pod so we can get moving.”
“He says he’s breathing,” Lynx told Brinda, shoving her own backpack into the compartment beneath the pod next to her husband’s. “I guess we may as well get it over with.”
The two women entered their pods quickly, and as soon as the covers came down, they felt the slightest nudge of acceleration.
“How long do you think reentry will take?” Lynx subvoced.
“You’re the pilot,” Woojin replied in her head.
“The Stryx said that the Cayl are technologically more advanced than anybody we know from home, so that would include the Sharf and the Verlocks.”
“Well, I know from experience that the Sharf make some disposable air-assault transports that can get a platoon from high orbit to the surface in a matter of minutes, but it’s basically a controlled crash-landing.”
“Have we even started down yet? I can’t feel much of anything in this gel.”
“Maybe it will be an unpowered reentry, and they’re waiting for the right point in the orbit to fire braking rockets,” Woojin speculated.
“I hope not. We could be in here for hours if that’s the case.”
“I don’t think so. I got a decent look at the surface while I was flipping around between the science ship and the transport, and we’re already in a very low orbit.”
“How come we don’t subvoc more often?” Lynx asked.
“Couples who subvoc together end up divorced,” Woojin replied. “Too much intimacy or something.”
“Did you feel that? Sort of like a lift tube capsule stopping. I think we’re beginning reentry.”
“I think my weight’s back.”
The clamshell lids of the three acceleration pods popped open and the humans looked at each other in surprise.
“Welcome to Cayl,” the transport’s voice announced. “We’ve set down at the imperial palace and I’ve informed them of your safe arrival. A welcome committee will be arriving to escort you to your destination. Thank you for traveling with Orbital Transports, and we hope to see you for your return trip.”
“Did I miss something?” Brinda asked. A purple haze leaked out of her mouth and nose as she spoke. “I started reading a book on my heads-up display when the pod closed, and I only made it to page two.”
“Whatever this gel is, I want some,” Lynx said, observing her own purple breath. She swung her feet to the floor and stood up gingerly. “Look! No wobbles.”
“It’s all the traveling we’ve been doing lately,” Woojin said. “You’re getting your space legs back.”
“How do we get out of this thing?” Brinda asked.
“Back the way we came?” Lynx suggested.
“We better put in the nose plugs the Stryx gave us,” Woojin said, extracting his own from the locket.
The women followed suit and installed their own nose plugs, after which all three retrieved their backpacks from under the acceleration pods. Lynx led the way through the corridor to the airlock, the inner door of which had remained open. As soon as they all entered, the airlock cycled and the outer door dropped down, providing a shallow ramp to the tarmac.
“Does anybody see the welcoming committee?” Brinda asked when they reached the ground. The transport’s ramp retracted and the ship leapt away from the surface, giving no sign of the propulsion system it was employing.
“Slick,” Woojin said. “I wonder if it’s a magnetic repulsion engine, or something with gravity. Oh, and I guess there’s our welcoming committee. Isn’t that a dog being chased by a bear?”
“He looks just like Beowulf,” Lynx exclaimed, as the bounding dog drew nearer. Remembering how Joe’s dog behaved when he was excited, she strategically moved behind Woojin.
A snow-white bear sprinted on all fours to catch the giant dog. When it became apparent that Beowulf’s doppelganger was going to get to the humans first, the bear stopped short, stood up, and shouted, “No, Gurf! Down!”
Gurf skidded to a halt in front of the visitors, panting like he had just run around the entire planet. Up close, the humans saw that he was actually quite a few years older than Beowulf, and his eyes expressed a mournful disappointment at what he saw.
“I guess you were expecting somebody else,” Woojin said, scratching
behind the dog’s ears. Gurf pressed against the human’s hand, but he didn’t contradict the statement.
“I’m sorry if he surprised you,” the Cayl said, closing the remaining distance between them at a dignified walk. “You’re the first hostages we’ve had in ages and I couldn’t find a record for the protocol, but I’m sure we’ll get along just fine without it. You’ll have to forgive the mess, but it’s been a madhouse since my husband announced his intention to dissolve the empire.”
“Hostages?” Lynx asked.
“For my husband,” the Cayl explained. “It wouldn’t be fitting for him to leave the empire without a proper exchange of hostages. Didn’t the Stryx tell you?”
“I guess Jeeves didn’t think it was important,” Brinda replied. “Uh, did you just say that you’re the empress?”
“In the fur,” the empress replied. “But you can call me Pava, everybody else does. We aren’t much on formality.”
“I’m Brinda Hadad,” the auctioneer introduced herself, throwing in an awkward curtsey as an afterthought.
“Pyun Woojin and my wife Lynx,” Woojin said.
“Are you a threesome?” Pava asked. “I don’t know anything about your species beyond the reference information Stryx Jeeves sent, but I can arrange for a single room or connected suite if you alternate partners.”
“I’d prefer a separate room for now,” Brinda said, struggling not to laugh as Lynx glowered at her. “We’re generally a pair-bonded species, though it varies with circumstances.”
“Did that warship crash-land after losing a battle?” Woojin asked, pointing at the hulk of an immense vessel that loomed over the edge of the tarmac.
“That’s the imperial palace,” Pava replied apologetically. “It was in fact the flagship of the home fleet a very long time ago, but a combination of age and combat damage necessitated its replacement. The emperor at that time was so attached to the ship that he brought it down to serve as his residence, and living there has turned into one of those family traditions that grow up over the years. It’s a bit embarrassing when we have guests.”
