Prodigals, page 13
Dev replied stiffly. “I am a formal consultant for NASA, I have multiple university degrees, and I speak several languages. What in that resumé leads you to believe I read comic books?”
Still prone on the floor, Reed rolled over to gaze up at him. “Don’t you?”
Dev looked away. “They are graphic novels. And what does that have to do with anything?”
“Space stuff?” Reed was relentless. “You read comics about space stuff?”
“Some of it, sometimes,” Dev admitted. “It all falls within the purview of my specialty.”
“Good.” Returning his gaze to the ceiling, Reed put both hands behind his head, lifting it slightly off the floor. “Then you can be the one to go down to the surface of this Mozehn. Me, I’m staying here.”
“So am I.”
Something in Pavesi’s tone caused Dev to eye her uncertainly, but Jakob Zimmer was gesturing for attention.
The biologist glanced at his wife, then back at Dev. “Chiara and I would love to go, but neither of us is what even an unknowing alien is likely to regard as ‘intimidating.’ If Gavin will not go, then you are the one most qualified for this, Devali. We will await your return with interest. Do not waste the opportunity for observation and learning.”
“I will try to keep that in mind.” Dev was unsure if he was reassuring them, or himself.
“One small item of concern. To keep in mind while you’re ‘observing and learning.’” Reed sat up. “We know nothing of these Mozehna beyond what Tilenyii has chosen to tell Dev. What if they’re not willing to go along with the A'jeii’s demands? What if their species’ personality is more like the Olone than the A'jeii? What if they show up for negotiations equipped more like the Kaijank?” He was gazing hard at Dev.
“If I had to hazard a guess,” Dev replied, “I would say that the A'jeii are not a species willing to reward failure. Tilenyii sounded fairly confident that negotiations will go well. Vantolos was of another opinion.”
Reed let out a soft snort. “What would you expect from the squid, when Tilenyii is all but telling him that in this instance he needs backup? From an unarmed human, no less?” A slow smile spread across his face. “What you just said, Dev, about the A'jeii not rewarding failure? What if the opposite eventuates? What if the negotiations, with you present as the ‘mystery’ alien, go really well? What are you going to do—what are we going to do—if the A'jeii subsequently insist that you or one of us are present at any and all future such ‘negotiations’? What if the A'jeii, who you indicate don’t really get along all that well with the squids, decide to cut them out of further negotiations entirely and just rely on a human presence? That would make the future awkward for us and leave us with a potential real enemy in the form of the Olone on this ship.”
Dev’s response was emphatic. “I do not think that speculation has any basis in reality, Gavin. From what I have been able to ascertain, the Olone were integral to the theft of this ship. The A'jeii cannot just dispense with them—or disrespect them in the manner you suggest. Besides, there is only one experienced linguist among us.” He indicated Zimmer. “We know nothing of other alien species, let alone their languages.”
Reed placed a hand over his left side. He was not feeling pain there, nor was he planning to pledge allegiance. It was the location for the handgun that under normal circumstances would have been holstered there.
“I wonder how an Olone would respond to a slug delivered from close range. Would they spill blood like a human? Or go splat like a bug?”
Dev was alarmed. “I have to say that is not a very productive line of thought, Gavin.”
“Maybe not.” Reed’s fingers slid away from his side. “But I can be free to speculate with my mind, if not my body.”
Katou-Zimmer eyed him disapprovingly. “On Earth, Vantolos was just doing his job, Gavin. Don’t make his actions there into something personal.”
“Who, me?” He laid back flat on the floor again. “I’m the quiet, impersonal one, remember?”
“Then we are all in agreement?” One at a time, Dev exchanged glances with his companions. “We will do what the A'jeii are asking of us?”
“Reluctantly. This time, at least.” Reaching up with her right hand, Katou-Zimmer placed it on her husband’s. “We will cooperate, but without joy or gladness.”
“Don’t worry so much, Chiasa.” Reed was a font of reassurance today, Dev mused. The big man turned his gaze to him. “If our boy here messes up his strong silent type part in the upcoming local negotiations, you’ll be looking for a warm coat before you know it.” He cast a grim eye over the others.
“We all will.”
—VIII—
Seen from orbit, Mozehn was every bit as beautiful as Earth. So much so that Dev found himself wondering whether or not it might be better to risk abandonment there than to remain on the alien ship with its unpredictable, diverse, morally deficient crew. Oceans, deserts, mountains: viewed from above, it all looked achingly familiar. What would its dominant species be like? Tilenyii had told him they were more advanced than the citizens of Earth. Did they know compassion? Understand the meaning of asylum? Or would they simply eliminate any alien humans stranded on their world as efficiently and ruthlessly as his own kind would eradicate a questionable virus?
When the time came, they assembled as had by now become customary in the Zimmers’ cabin. There, an A'jeii named Runoyii regarded them thoughtfully before eventually approaching the waiting Dev. The A'jeii eyed the human without blinking. “If I were to be asked my personal opinion, I would say that this is a dubious notion and that you should not be a member of this landing party.”
“But it is not your idea.” Since Runoyii was speaking English, Dev responded on the assumption that by now many if not all the highly adaptable and very clever A'jeii understood it reasonably well.
“That is so,” the A'jeii acknowledged. “From the time you leave the ship you will be under the command of Vantolos. You will not have a weapon and you are to say nothing unless it is requested of you by him that you say a few words in your own language. You are to follow his lead in all matters, only to contribute if he requests your assistance or in the event that discussions may seem to be veering away from what we regard as successful.”
“How do you define this ‘success’?” Jakob inquired.
Large eyes swung around to regard the oldest human. “Compliance on the part of the Mozehna with each of our specific requests. Nothing less. A judgment with which you all should be quite familiar.” Pausing, the technician looked around the cabin. “I note that one of your number is not present.”
A frowning Katou-Zimmer made her own quick search. There was only the single four-walled chamber; no place for someone to hide even had they been inclined to do so. Eyes narrowing, her husband voiced what everyone was suddenly wondering.
“Where’s Diana?”
Reed looked up from absently massaging the spot where his holster would normally repose against his chest. “I thought she was with you, Dev.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her either. Not since earlier. She was not following behind me.” He looked accusingly at the A'jeii. “You have done something with her! With our friend!”
One hand described a swift arc in front of the small alien torso. “We have not ‘done’ anything with your colleague. Could you not surmise my ignorance of her whereabouts from my query? If I knew where the female was, I would not be commenting on her absence.”
Moving quickly to the portal area, Reed ran a fingertip along the sensitized section of wall until the expected opening appeared. “Check her cabin first. If she’s not there …” He broke off because he had no idea what they would do if Diana Pavesi was not in her room. Especially in the face of the A'jeii technician’s unhesitant and straightforward denial of any involvement in her absence.
Which didn’t make any sense no matter how you looked at it, Dev thought. Why arrange for them all to be together only to, for some unknown reason, prevent one of them from attending? He felt a slight chill.
Reed was the first one into Pavesi’s cabin, with Dev right behind and the Zimmers arriving more slowly. A puzzled Runoyii trailed behind.
Pavesi was right there, lying on her pod-spawned bed. She was not moving. Going over to her without hesitation, Reed leaned forward to put a moistened palm over her mouth, then bent to listen to her chest. When he straightened, his expression was unchanged. The same could not be said for his voice.
“Dead. She’s dead. Still warm, but …” He stopped speaking, finding no rationale for adding unnecessary adjectives to the obvious.
“Here.” At the far side of the cabin, Katou-Zimmer stood looking down at a shelf that emerged from a small pod. As everyone drew near, Dev saw that it was filled with small bits of synthesized vegetable that had been carefully arranged in a pattern. The familiar teacup Pavesi had requested from the appropriate wall pod soon after its workings had been explained to her sat nearby.
“No pen, no paper.” Zimmer’s voice was muted as he regarded the words Pavesi had laboriously spelled out using slices and shards of synthesized vegetables.
Can’t do this.
Can’t go home.
Won’t do this.
Sorry. Luck to all.
Death before dishonor, a distraught Dev thought. Suicide before scruples. Though they had agreed to assist the crew of the ship that had fled with them aboard, every one of them had experienced second thoughts. Only Pavesi had been disheartened enough to act on them.
“I wouldn’t have expected this.” Reed was solemn but had been trained to keep his emotions under control. Notwithstanding his training, doing so now clearly required an effort on his part. “Not from Diana. Not from her.”
Katou-Zimmer eyed him curiously. “Why not from her?”
The big man looked over at the scientist. “She was CIA. Put on the team not only to help with the original negotiations but to keep an eye on us.”
“And you know this how?” Jakob Zimmer’s stare was no less intense than that of his wife. “What are you, Gavin? More than just our bodyguard, I think.”
“Military intelligence. Pavesi’s job was to keep an eye on us. Mine was to keep an eye on her while looking after everyone else.” He swallowed, only once. “Dammit. I missed the signs. I don’t usually miss the signs.”
Feeling a sudden surge of sympathy, Dev stepped toward him. “Don’t berate yourself. We all missed the signs.” Awkwardly, he eyed the body on the bed. “If there were any signs to be missed.”
Inserting his diminutive form into the knot of humans, Runoyii glanced at the large, motionless form on the padded platform before turning to Dev.
“What is this? This human has expired?”
Katou-Zimmer looked ineffably sad. “Killed herself. Suicide, if the term translates properly.”
“But—why?” The A'jeii was genuinely puzzled. “Like the rest of you, like all of us, she had suitable shelter and ample sustenance. It is not known for one of us, for any of the A'jeii, to voluntarily terminate one’s life this way. We fight to sustain life, not to end it.”
“Why indeed?” was Katou-Zimmer’s reply. “Some people—some humans, anyway—can appear very strong on the outside while no one has any idea what’s going on in their inside. In their mind, I mean. Suicide is a human mental issue. It seems our friend was very resilient on the outside but crumbling within.”
“So then,” the A'jeii technician observed in the characteristically terse fashion of its kind, “there will be three of you to await your companion’s return from the surface.” Once again, he directed his attention to Dev. “Come; I will lead you.” He started for the door panel that held the exit.
“No.” His words clipped and unwavering, Jakob Zimmer remained standing by the side of the bed and its unhappy burden. “Neither Dev nor any of us will go with the Olone. Not yet.” Seeking the faces of his companions, he found there the reassurance he sought. “Not until our friend receives a proper send-off.”
The A'jeii halted. “It is time to try and initiate contact with the Mozehna. Arrangements have been made.”
“Tough.” Reed stepped forward. “No send-off, no cooperation.”
Runoyii regarded the small group of humans. “Negotiations with the Mozehna can proceed without you. This option has already been discussed. However, if you refuse to participate there may be repercussions.”
The implied threat was unmistakable. Dev had been expecting it and was certain the same was true of his colleagues. After all, the crew of the purloined ship were not philanthropists. But he held his ground.
“It won’t take long,” Zimmer told the A'jeii. “Then Dev will assist you without hesitation.”
Runoyii pondered a moment. Raising his right arm, he spoke in the direction of his wrist, then paused as if listening to an unseen instrument. There followed a good deal of additional wrist chatter interspersed with listening before he once more eyed the quartet of bipeds.
“Syrenii has acceded to your request, but we must hurry. The Mozehna are assembling their contact team and must be met in a timely fashion.” The technician eyed the motionless form on the bed. “May I propose recycling? Among my kind it is the generally accepted method of passing on the physical portion of the …”
Reed interrupted the A'jeii. “No, you may not. Diana’s body gets consigned to the void. Intact.” He looked over at the Zimmers. “Like Jakob said, it won’t take long.”
“A waste of time and energy,” remarked Runoyii. “But we knew your customs and culture were strange when we studied them in the course of our approach. In the interest of saving time, it will be as you wish.” Once more he eyed the weighty corpse. “I will arrange conveyance. Unless you insist on carrying the deceased yourselves.”
“No. Help with conveyance would be welcome,” Dev admitted. Even with Reed’s strength, manhandling the limp, heavy body of their dead colleague would be difficult. Dev was no weightlifter, and the elderly Zimmers could not be counted on to, as it were, hold up their end. Besides, they didn’t know how far it was from their living quarters to the nearest airlock.
Not far, as it developed. Nor was there an airlock in the traditional sense. Threading a path through a chamber nearly filled to the ceiling with bulbous containers, Runoyii led the somber procession to a far wall. As Dev and his colleagues looked in vain for a doorway, controls, conduits, and anything halfway familiar that might indicate the location of a lock, the A'jeii technician ran his fingers over a section of curving wall in a complex pattern that was familiar in its execution but alien in its design. Katou-Zimmer was not the only one who gasped when a circular section of wall some twenty feet in diameter suddenly appeared to vanish in front of them.
With the alien craft now holding in orbit above Mozehn, stars were visible, along with a pair of irregularly shaped but surprisingly large moons that gleamed like polished silver nuggets set on black velvet. Instinctively, Dev braced for sudden decompression and a loss of air. But nothing happened. There was no rush of atmosphere out of the chamber, no change in gravity—nothing. It was as if he and his companions were gazing at a projection instead of a hole in the hull. All of them stood in awe at the science behind the opening.
Runoyii did not react at all. As far as the A'jeii was concerned, he had done nothing more than activate an egress.
“Push your companion forward.”
Emerging from the shock of the portal’s appearance, Reed and Dev stepped behind the floating platform on which they had placed Pavesi’s body. The Zimmers stood to one side, holding hands. Dev looked at Reed, who nodded. Together they gave the device a forceful shove. Propelled by the push and suspended above the deck by another miracle of alien science, the platform slid forward. As it impacted the lower portion of the disc portal, a slight golden mist enveloped first the front end, then the portion supporting the body, and finally the end. Once it had passed completely through, it picked up speed. As it did so, Pavesi’s form slowly drifted away from the platform itself, until she was floating free and shrinking into the distance. With nothing to restrain her limbs and now under the gravitational influence of the world below, her arms drifted away from where they had been crossed over her stomach.
It looked like she was waving.
With the cold abruptness of indifference, the portal vanished, to be replaced once more by a bland, unornamented section of far more solid-looking hull wall. Runoyii’s subsequent remark was devoid of emotion.
“That’s done. Please now come with me.”
The quartet of somber humans formed up behind the A'jeii to shuffle along behind their guide. “He didn’t even give us a chance to say anything,” Reed muttered.
“We didn’t ask for time.” Katou-Zimmer was philosophical. “It’s plain that nothing here is surmised. We have to learn to express ourselves and our needs more forcefully, just like we insisted on seeing Diana on her way.” Her husband nodded in agreement.
“One less of us now,” he murmured. “One more step closer to aloneness.”
“The rest of us are still here.” Dev looked over at the senior scientist. “‘You cannot count all the time on having the physical proximity of someone you love.’”
Reed squinted at him. “Did you just make that up?”
“No.” The bulk of his thoughts elsewhere, Dev replied absently. “It is a saying by Valmiki. From the Ramayana.” Noting Reed’s continued confusion, he added, “It is not a comic book.”
The big man nodded solemnly.
As Runoyii led them deeper into the ship they encountered fewer and fewer A'jeii and not a single Olone. Five minutes into the hike they were joined by a pair of suited Kaijank. Dev couldn’t tell if they were the same ones who had accompanied Vantolos on his contact visits to Earth, but he recognized the devices they carried. Though these were as intimidating as ever, he had to remind himself that they still did not know if they were weapons.
To think, he mused, that those few devices carried by a couple of Kaijank, plus the sheer size of the alien craft, had been sufficient to bluff an entire technologically developed world like his own into submission. Would the Mozehna react in similar fashion? Would they prove equally acquiescent and comply readily with the demands of their brazen, unexpected visitors? Very soon he would learn the answer to that question. In person.
