All That Bedevils Us, page 24
As he asked that question, the hatch on the far side twisted open like a giant iris. Two Freen and a Radial entered the chamber. “No,” said the Freen, who Costa thought, from the voice, might be Mab. “This room half Correlation standard. Full standard beyond.” And the Freen gestured back the way it had come.
“By god I was right,” Rory said, eyes wide. “They can generate gravity!”
Norlil made a high-pitched whistling sound. “This is incredible. The trip and the risks were worth it, just for this.”
“A device of Radials,” said the Freen who had spoken, half turning to the Radial in its company. “Their gift to the Correlation. We understand you lack this technology.”
Colors rippled and flowed over the Radial, one of the subspecies with a smooth head. With a heartbeat’s delay a flat voice emanated from the implants behind his ears. “Data is included in library exchange. Implementation may require guidance. We will assist you.”
“In time,” said the Freen. “Current situation has priority.”
“Agreed,” said Costa. “You’re Mab?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I recognized your voice,” Costa said.
“Voice?”
“To Human eyes, at least, all the Freen I’ve met look very much alike,” Costa admitted. “But your voices are quite distinct.”
“Interesting,” said the other Freen. “We are reverse for Humans. Voices all same, faces very different. Also Leyra’an, Rusalas, and Nesvama. Hroom, T’lack, Grahlin all look same, sound same.”
“These are matters that will sort themselves out with time and familiarity,” said Dorgnas. “And congratulations on fully integrating the Radials into the translation protocol. Well and quickly done.”
“Thank you,” the second Freen replied. “Necessity motivated us. I am Ret. Come this way.”
The three newcomers turned and walked back the way they had come, and the party from the Grand Concordance followed, this time with Fuumbral taking the rear position. Costa felt his weight increase, but not to what he would have considered normal; the Correlation standard was lower than that of the GC. He said so aloud, to no one in particular.
“Feels like about three quarters standard,” said Rory.
“Point eight, actually,” said Banetisib.
Mab paused and looked back at them. “If our standard is uncomfortable…”
“Not at all,” said Sarah.
“That is good,” said Ret.
As they walked down the long, straight corridor, Costa watched the Freen from behind and marveled at the situation he found himself in. They’d come to rescue an alien species from the Phobic T’lack and found things they could never have expected, such as radially symmetrical beings who communicated with flashes of skin color and who could generate, and presumably control, gravity. To the best of Costa’s knowledge neither Humanity nor the Hroom, the most potent inventors and engineers of the Grand Concordance, were anywhere near such a breakthrough.
Artificial gravity… No, generated gravity. Their habitats, larger ships, and stations didn’t require spin to simulate gravity the way the ships in his task force managed it. The large ships that they’d seen, those looking like oval collections of low domes or blisters on a drive system had been exactly that. Each dome had a floor that generated its own gravity. The same was true of this star station they’d just entered. He wondered if this technology explained the apparent great range of their ships when they twisted the gravimetric nodes for interstellar travel. If they could generate gravity, surely they could manipulate it.
Now he understood why the Radials who had visited the Loknata had developed vertigo. The ship’s interior spin was not something they had ever experienced.
The corridor ended with a broad, arched entry into what was surely the dome nearest the docking facility. The scene beyond that greeted them was like nothing Costa had ever seen in any station or habitat. Although the nearby ships seen in the holographic view of their approach had provided a sense of scale, Costa was still unprepared for the interior view.
It was a slice of habitat with no up-curved horizon, and a roof high over it, a dozen or more meters above them, at least. The ceiling appeared to be full of lights embedded in its material; for all that the space before them was well lit, Costa found he could look up at the ceiling without discomfort. They’d stepped out onto a broad circle of pavement that seemed to be a single slab of a mottled material Costa couldn’t identify. Their group, large as it was, fit onto the broad reception area with room to spare. Without exception they all peered around and into the distance, which was considerable; Costa couldn’t see the far side clearly. The opposite wall appeared to be at least a kilometer away. Between the spot on which they stood and that distant wall they glimpsed a mixture of low structures and green spaces that seemed to have been assembled at random.
“What holds it up?” Rory wondered aloud, gazing upward. “Translation is not yet sufficient for details,” said Ret, or so Costa guessed going by the sound of his voice. “The data is included with exchange. Search node facility structure and materials.”
“Thanks,” Rory replied. “I’ll do that!”
All around the circular space in which they stood grew a border made by a thick, dark green hedge heavy with greenish-yellow flowers. Lacking nanomed in his system, Costa had allowed the Commonwealth medics in their crew to install a temporary enhancement to his immune system that would help deal with unfamiliar substances. Catching a whiff of the smell from those blossoms, dry and dusty and making his nose itch, Costa was glad he had done so. The alien atmosphere was breathable, but from the smell alone he was quite sure it was full of things his body wasn’t used to, and the last thing any of them needed was a violent allergic reaction.
The Freen say they’ve done this before, he reminded himself. They’ve surely taken precautions for our sake. Quit worrying. With that last thought, he sneezed.
“Sorry,” he said to Mab, who looked quickly at him as if alarmed. Costa waved a hand toward the flowering shrubs. “They seem to irritate my nose.”
“Please always report such,” she replied. “Compatibility data is greatly valued.”
“A priority we share,” Costa assured her.
If they were expecting a guided tour, they were disappointed. A pair of flat, oval transports a meter thick and surrounded by railings floated to the edge of the reception area beyond the airlock. Their Freen companions loaded one with the Hroomish contingent and the solitary Radial among their guides, and directed everyone else to the other.
“This is amazing!” Rory went wide-eyed as the transport started to move. “We have got to learn how they do this gravity thing.”
“We will teach it,” said Ret. There was no expression, and no inflection to the voice, merely a little bow as if in acquiescence. “We would learn system drives.”
Costa experienced a moment of alarm at the thought of giving away the secret of the cheat drive, then thought better of it. They’re going to teach us how to generate and control gravity. Surely that’s a fair trade? Hell’s bells, we may be coming out in the higher orbit there.
The Freen and the Radials, at least, seemed typical of nonhuman species Costa had encountered, in the sense of being open to newcomers and what they might have to offer. Since they got along with their other neighbors so well, it seemed safe to assume the other Correlation species were of the same inclination. The T’lack were clearly an exception to what Costa now thought of as a rule, and even that exception was coming into a more stable vector as the Philic T’lack gradually increased in numbers. No one else they’d met showed such profound xenophobia. The Freen and their allies numbered half a dozen species and had met just two who could not tolerate strangeness. It was alarming to realize that those two had become as violent as the T’lack when confronted by the knowledge that they were not alone in the galaxy. Otherness, it seemed, was either embraced or rejected utterly.
Let’s hope those are exceptions to what proves to be the rule.
Floating a couple of meters above the surface, the transports moved along smoothly and silently in a gently winding course that took them into the midst of the dome. Their speed was sufficient to ruffle loose hair, but it was otherwise comfortable standing in the open as they did. If the path they followed was marked out for such transports in any way, it wasn’t immediately obvious. They passed over paved pathways, sometimes following them, at others crossing them from one region of short turf or patch of sand and gravel to another. Costa saw gardens and low structures of either square or circular design, many of them just collections of walls without roofs. All the species of the Correlation except the Murolish were present, though the Radials were fewest in numbers, and usually on their way elsewhere aboard the sort of conveyance being used for the visitors.
“Do the Radials not live in this habitat?” Costa asked Mab.
“They function here,” she replied. “Live elsewhere with appropriate conditions. Better atmosphere. More light.”
“Do I understand correctly that the Radials are photosynthetic organisms?” Norlil asked.
There was a moment’s delay in the response that Costa assumed was due to lingering translation imperfections. Then Mab said, “It plays a role in those life forms. They are not fully nourished by light. Certain aspects of their metabolism require sufficient light for normal regulation.”
“It is also too cold here,” Ret added. “Here they use an alternative oxidase metabolic pathway…”
Ret and the Grahlin clone sisters went on in that vein for the remainder of the trip. Costa left them to it.
They curved around what looked to Costa like a vineyard draped with plants with leaves so dark he had to look twice to convince himself they weren’t actually black. Ahead he saw a circular depression into which several paved paths led. The ground was covered with a turf made up of pale green plants with tiny round leaves that felt like a cushion when he stepped off the transport. He waited until the rest of his crew had their feet on the turf, smiling at the sounds of delight given by the Hroom who clearly enjoyed walking on the stuff, then followed Mab and Ret down into the dell. Waiting for them was a large, mixed-species gathering, some seated on padded benches, others — including the six Radials present — standing. They were halfway to the group waiting for them when Costa realized what was missing.
“Why aren’t there any Murolish here?”
“Murolish tradition,” Mab replied. “Very ancient. You may still be foes. They must be sure before interaction. Their councils decide elsewhere.”
“I think I understand,” Costa said, though doubt arose even as he spoke.
“Take no offense,” said Ret. “They are Murolish.”
“I’m not offended,” Costa said. What he felt was a moment of anxiety. If the Murolish decided friendship with the GC was not possible, what then?
“Difficult decision.” Ret waved a hand at Takak and Lektat. “They are with you. That kind killed Radials. There was no reason for the attack. Murolish declare T’lack an enemy species. Then you arrive and come to our defense. Fight alongside Murolish. T’lack fight with you against T’lack. T’lack on both sides of war. How are Murolish to know?”
“We are divided,” said Takak. “We are at war among ourselves as well.”
“Strange thing self war,” said Ret. “Frightful.”
“Yes,” Takak replied.
“Murolish see threats,” said Mab.
“That’s unfortunately understandable,” said Costa. “As is the need to prove that the T’lack factions really do differ from each other.”
“In the past, enemy species were all enemy, all one thing,” said Mab. “T’lack are new thing. It will be difficult for Murolish.”
Thanks for the warning. Costa resisted the urge to express that thought aloud. He had no desire to test the translation system’s ability to convey Human sarcasm.
The conversation paused for a moment when they reached the crowded bottom of the dell, and the assembled beings approached from all directions. The Freen had called it an informal gathering, and it did indeed have some aspects of a cocktail party, with guests mingling and multiple conversations taking place, and everyone speaking clearly and precisely to facilitate translation. Ret made introductions all around and for not the first time, Costa envied those with him who had taken advantage of the Commonwealth’s memory hoard technology. He knew he would forget or misremember much of what was said and done. He said something of the sort aloud to Ret.
“Worry not,” the Freen replied. “All is recorded. We will send recording.”
“That would be greatly appreciated,” Costa replied.
“Must end conflict,” Mab told him, making what seemed to Costa an oddly dismissive hand wave to those assembled. “Openness. Tolerance. Sharing. Necessary for understanding. All learn this.” She faced Takak. “All.”
“Yes,” said Takak.
Mab made a gesture and the assembled people all turned to face the visitors. At least, those with bilateral symmetry did so. For all practical purposes, according to Dorgnas, the Radial faced all directions at once. For a moment no one spoke, and no one moved. Then Mab addressed the visitors.
“Before more is said, I am asked to express sympathy for losses on our behalf. Nesvama and Grahlin died to repel invasion of facility. We are sad that we must meet in such a way.”
Banetisib and Nesmatipit held their clasped hands over their chests in the way of the old Concordance, bowing slightly. The clone sisters did the same. “The risk to come here was deemed worthwhile,” said Banetisib. “I grieve for those we lost. May they be the last.”
“A worthy sentiment,” Mab replied. She held her hands up, hesitated, and then clasped them together in imitation of the gesture she had seen, bowing her head.
Worthy indeed. He was determined that the sentiment be realized, but was not so naïve as to be optimistic about his chances. The uneasiness he felt regarding the ways of the Murolish refused to fade, even though all the others present echoed the sentiments expressed by the Freen.
The Radials included the individuals who had visited them before, and through Freen interpreters — the system was still working to bridge that gap — they expressed pleasure and gratitude when they were reintroduced. Costa wondered if the great speed with which colors rippled over the Radials indicated enthusiasm at meeting again. They repeated their idea of a handshake with one and all, and their comrades, watching this, quickly picked up the habit. It was a strange and, to Costa, a wondrous sight to see this mix of disparate beings exchanging sometimes awkward handclasps. No one on either side seemed reluctant to make that physical contact. People truly mingled, as if the Correlationists were intent on meeting everyone at some point in the proceedings.
This clearly included the T’lack. Maladar joined Costa and pointed this out.
“Speaks well of them, doesn’t it?” he said.
“Indeed, yes.” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Near the end of the war, Ersha and I spent a brief time on God’s Gift, in the Republic. A beautiful world, and I can well understand why it bears such a name. The war between the Republic and my people was over. And yet we met a man there whose hatred for my kind was — palpable. We had never met, and I had never done him harm.”
“There are a lot of people in the Republic like that,” Costa said. “They could learn something from this bunch.”
“As could many among the Leyra’an,” said Maladar.
As the mixing and mingling went on, Costa eventually found himself with Dorgnas and Takak on his right, Maladar on his left, and Fuumbral looming behind him. With them was the Freen woman named Mab, one of the black-furred Sososith, and two thick-bodied, deep blue, multi-limbed Vivish. The Sososith was Selekasm and the Vivish were Poptocick and Babtocick, the similarities in their names identifying them, he was told, as siblings.
“The translation system is evolving with commendable speed,” Costa said after introductions were made. It was not idle flattery, either. The system was becoming noticeably more adept at managing multiple languages as the meeting progressed.
Sizzling sounds came from one of the Vivish; he couldn’t tell which. The sounds became words in his ears. “Pleased you believe so. Much of system is Vivish.” Six of its arms twitched upward for a moment, revealing a stripe of rust-red underneath.
“All contribute,” said Selekasm. Its voice was a soft whisper of sound, with trills and clicks sprinkled in. “It is the way to do things. Vivish make a breakthrough. Others took it further.”
“Our experience is similar,” Costa said. “The Hroom developed a self-teaching system that made the original Concordance translation system possible. Her people,” he pointed to Dorgnas, “the Rusalas, have a talent for language and communication. They took the Hroom translation technology and made it far more efficient.”
“It was not hard to do,” Dorgnas said. “The basic system was quite extraordinary.”
“Yes,” said one of the Vivish. “We have studied it. Much to be learned.”
“I would say the same of yours,” Dorgnas replied.
“Forgive me,” said Costa. “I can’t tell which Vivish speaks. My ears just don’t capture the differences between your real voices for some reason.”
“Murolish have same trouble. We wave.” Babtocick’s tentacles waggled around. “They know who speaks. Now you will know.”
“Thanks,” Costa replied. “That works. I was afraid you would think me rude, if I didn’t respond directly to whoever speaks.”
“We would understand,” said Poptocick, using the same means to indicate that it spoke. “But we are happy to help.”
“I do wish the Murolish were here,” said Maladar. “I very much wish to meet them.”
“In time,” said Selekasm. “Murolish great protectors of all. We make allowances.”
“As will we,” Maladar replied. “Acceptance of how things are and must be is the heart of the Leyra’an life way.”
