Convergence

Chapter Twenty-Six

The atmosphere on board the Salvation was somewhere between numbed satisfaction and manic glee. Hans Rebka, sitting in the pilot’s chair, knew the cause. Nothing in life produces a more powerful joy than a near miss by the Angel of Death. Their lives had been threatened in the days before Labyrinth vanished, to the point where Rebka would have taken no odds on survival. Yet here they were, alive and on the way home (except for Quintus Bloom, whose present location was anyone’s guess but no one’s worry).

Hans felt that he was the odd man out, the single exception to the general cheer. He ought to be enjoying the moment, even if in his case it would be no more than a brief interval of peace before the next task. That task would be the most difficult one of his life, if he was any judge, but he could not avoid it — because this time he was assigning it to himself.

The final minutes on Labyrinth had taught him something of profound importance. He had not just endured their troubles, he had enjoyed wrestling with and beating them. He was a professional trouble-shooter. That was a fancy name for an idiot. Trouble was always dangerous. But it was addictive and stimulating, thrilling and energizing, the ultimate roller-coaster, more exciting than anything else in life. And he was the best damned trouble-shooter he had ever met.

That formed the root of his current problem. He could do this job. Maybe no one else could. But how was he going to break the news to Darya? He could produce plausible but bogus reasons: that he would never be able to stand her sedentary lifestyle; that she could never bear to live in the Phemus Circle. But the two of them had been too close for too long to permit lies and half-truths. So he was going to make her miserable.

Hans realized that, unusual for him, he was procrastinating. At the moment Darya certainly didn’t sound miserable. She was standing behind him, humming tunelessly to herself and massaging his neck and shoulders. She probed stiff-fingered into his trapezius muscles, hard enough to hurt. It felt great.

“Relax, Hans,” she said. “You’re too tense. What has you so knotted up?”

“I was thinking that we fit really well together.”

“Mm.” The grip on his shoulders tightened. “The men from Phemus Circle. One-track minds. I don’t believe you, you know.”

“You don’t think we fit well?”

“Sure we do. But I don’t believe that’s what you were thinking about when I asked you.”

Which only proved that he had been right. He couldn’t fob Darya off with false reasons. It had to be the bald truth.

“I’m going back to the Phemus Circle, Darya. I have to.”

Her fingers froze on his back. “You’ve received orders?”

“No. Worse.” He turned to face her. “I made the decision for myself.”

Her hand came up again to touch his cheek. “Can you tell me why?”

He could hear her uncertainty. “I want to explain, Darya, but I don’t know if you’ll understand. Maybe no one can understand who isn’t from the Phemus Circle.”

“Try me.”

“You think you know the Phemus Circle, because you’ve visited it. But you don’t really know the Circle at all. Maybe you have to be born there. When I was stuck inside Paradox, I started thinking about my childhood on Teufel in a different way. Half my friends died before they were ten years old, from predators and drought and malnutrition, or while we were on water and food duty. It seemed inevitable at the time. I’ve finally realized it’s anything but. It doesn’t have to be that way — on Teufel, or anywhere else. Since I became an adult I’ve been sent to one world after another, wherever and whenever a bad problem appeared. I study the situation, and I solve the problem — every time. The infant deaths on Styx, the encephalo-parasite on Subito, the runaway biosphere on Pelican’s Wake, infertility on Scaldworld, the crop die-off on Besthome, the universal sleep on Mirawand, the black wave on Nemesis — there isn’t one that has beaten me. It’s a great feeling, shipping home and thinking: that’s another one in the bag.

“I had to leave the Phemus Circle completely before I could recognize a different truth. I haven’t been solving problems, you see, not in any final sense. I’ve been plastering over them. The real difficulty lies higher, in the government that runs the Phemus Circle. There are excellent ways of modifying planetary biospheres, small changes that don’t cost a fortune and don’t harm native stock, but translate into enormous lifestyle improvements for human colonists. Hell, I’ve done terraforming, myself, on loan in Alliance territory. We’ve known the techniques for thousands of years. But I’ve never once applied those methods in the Phemus Circle. Teufel remains as it was the day I left it. So do all the other god-forsaken Circle worlds.”

“Why?”

“That’s the big question. That’s what I have to find out. It’s as though the people who control the central government of the Phemus Circle want people to live short, stunted lives. They have more control that way. But I’m going to change things.”

“How?”

“You keep asking questions I wish I could answer. I have no idea how. But I’ll do it, or I’ll die trying. I’m sorry, Darya. Will you forgive me?”

“Forgive you? For what? For being responsible, and brave? There’s nothing to forgive. I’m proud of you, Hans.”

“But it means that we won’t—”

She silenced him by leaning forward and kissing him gently on the lips. “There. We’re going to see a lot of each other whenever we have a chance, but we are going to have separate jobs and separate lives. Right?”

“That’s one reason I feel so bad. To talk to you this way, just when your work has been destroyed.”

“Destroyed?” Her laugh was not at all the laugh of a broken-hearted woman. “Hans, I’ve got the best and fattest job ahead of me that a research worker could ever have. Before all this started, I was happy to study beings whom I thought had left the spiral arm at least three million years ago. Now I have all that old knowledge, plus more new information than I ever hoped for. And with Quintus Bloom gone I’m the only person, the only one in the whole arm, with all the information. Don’t you see it’s my duty to produce a final, definitive study of the Builders? I’ll even include Bloom’s theory, though I know it can’t be right.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“You’ll be sure, too, if you think about it. Because you know Quintus. If he is in the future, and they have time travel, he would make one action his top priority. What would it be?”

Hans frowned. “He’d send a message back. To prove to everybody that his theories are right.”

“Exactly. And he would do it in a way we couldn’t possibly overlook. No cryptic polyglyphs for him, no hiding in the middle of an artifact. So he can’t be right. But he’ll be in my reports anyway, along with every other speculation about the Builders. Can you see what a huge job I have ahead of me? It will take years and years of labor, and I’m going to need all the library support and computer power and research facilities that Sentinel Gate can produce. This is work I can’t do on the road. But I’ll still have to travel — the Phemus Circle had artifacts, and it’s at the intersection of two of the other major clades. I’ll visit you, sure I will, wherever you happen to be. And you can visit me whenever you get the chance, and stay as long as you like.”

“I will. No shared home, though. My job will be dangerous. The powers-that-be in the Phemus Circle won’t like what I’m planning to do.”

“They can’t touch me here on Sentinel Gate.”

“Darya, they might. If I’m successful, we don’t know how desperate they may get.”

“I’ll take that chance. I’m not afraid of risks, not any more. One day, when I’ve finished my work, I’ll come to the Phemus Circle. We’ll share the dangers.”

“But no children.”

“Hey! I didn’t agree to that. They won’t live in the Phemus Circle, of course, they’ll grow up on Sentinel Gate.”

“And be spoiled rotten.”

“Are you suggesting that I was spoiled? Don’t bother to tell me.” She leaned past him to stare at the status displays. “We’ll be through the final Bose Transition in five minutes. Come to the forward observation port after that. We’ll do some practical planning.” She stroked the short hair at the back of his neck, sending tingles through him, and was gone.

Hans stared at the controls as another message appeared over the superluminal communications network. Was that it, the confrontation that he had so been dreading? Darya was an exceptional woman. And a super-smart one. Because there it was, another artifact vanishing exactly as she had predicted. Every last one of them was going, according to the bulletins.

The Salvation was about to clear its final Bose Transition. Only when that last jump had been taken would he feel free to join Darya. The Bose Network was not a Builder creation, as he had once feared, but its nodes were certainly affected by the presence or absence of nearby Builder artifacts. He would be far easier in his mind as soon as he was sure that the ship could fly the rest of the way subluminal.

One minute more to the Bose Transition. Hans’s expression changed to a scowl as he checked the screen displays for the rear section of the ship. That damned Zardalu! He’d feel easier when the jump was over, and easier still when that midnight-blue nightmare was gone from the Salvation. Louis Nenda claimed that the beast was safe, but it had managed to work a tentacle loose while the ship was first going superluminal. If it had quietly used that tentacle to free itself, instead of flailing at every fixture within reach, it might now control the whole ship.

Maybe the Fourth Alliance did need a mature Zardalu for study, Hans thought, as the Bose indicator blinked in with a transition accurate to the microsecond. Maybe they would pay a huge reward for it, as Nenda and Atvar H’sial claimed. But did the two of them have to choose the biggest and meanest Zardalu that Rebka had ever seen?

They were feeding the brute now, with great chunks of synthetic meat. Were they trying to grow it even bigger? Well, good luck to them. Hans checked the control settings one more time and stood up. He had more productive — and pleasant — ways to pass the remaining days of subluminal flight.

Nenda and Atvar H’sial were feeding the Zardalu. They were also talking to it. And it was just as well that no one else on board could follow the conversation.

“Don’t give me that.” Nenda was using the extreme form of the master-slave language. “I saw what you did with just one tentacle free. You smashed bits of the ship all to hell, so me and At got blamed for bringing you aboard. We should have let you rot in Labyrinth. Taking over control of the Salvation is one thing, but unstrapping you so you can help do it is another.”

“Master.” The land-cephalopod, floating in front of Nenda, could scarcely move in its double-strapped harness. But the long purple tongue reached out, inviting him to step on it with his boot.

“You can put that thing away. It’s disgusting.”

“Yes, Master.” Four feet of tongue slid back into the narrow vertical mouth. “Master, I can help you to conquer this ship. I lost control of myself earlier. That is why I broke things. I thought that I was about to die.”

“Maybe you are — or worse. The people on Miranda say they want to examine an adult Zardalu. That’s you. But when they say ‘examine,’ they really mean ‘dissect.’ See, it all depends what I tell ’em. If I say you belong to me, and I need you back, that’s one thing. You stay in one piece, no cutting. But if I say you don’t belong to me, an’ I don’t care what happens to you…”

“I do belong to you. Completely. I will be your willing slave. Master, do not leave me in the hands of strange humans. My brood-mates and I learned our lesson on Serenity and on Genizee. We know that compared with your Master Race, all other species of the spiral arm are weak, pitiful, sentimental imbeciles. Humans are the most resourceful, intelligent, terrifying, and cruel beings in the whole spiral arm.” The saucer-sized cerulean eyes saw a scowl appear on Nenda’s face. “And also, of course, the most merciful.”

“Better believe it. All of it. Hold on a minute, though. Gotta talk to my partner.” Louis turned to Atvar H’sial. The Cecropian had been monitoring the exchange through Nenda’s pheromonal translation. She had been given a censored version of the Zardalu’s final comments. Delivery of the “weak, pitiful, sentimental imbeciles” comment had been postponed. Nenda would like to see Cecropian and Zardalu go fifteen rounds with the gloves off, but this was not the day for it.

“At, we got to make a few decisions real soon. We’re gonna drop Jelly-bones here off on Miranda, but what next? Do we try to steal this ship? Do we go to Sentinel Gate with the others? And do we make a pick-up at Miranda later, when they’re all done with Zardie?”

“No, we do not steal this ship. No, we do not go to Sentinel Gate.” The emphatic pheromones became charged with suspicion. “Will the Lang female be there? I feel sure of it. We will not go there. But yes, we do collect the Zardalu after it has been examined. That all fits the grand design.”

“It does?”

“Certainly. Why steal this ship, which is of indifferent performance? We will have plenty of money when the Zardalu has been delivered to Miranda.”

“But no ship.”

“Miranda Spaceport offers the largest selection of vessels in the whole spiral arm. We will acquire one. We will then claim our Zardalu. If you like, we will visit the Mandel system and determine if your own ship, the Have-It-All, has reappeared there. And then — we return to Genizee.”

“Genizee! At, no offense, but you’re out of your mind. I spent months tryin’ to get out of that place.”

“In very different circumstances. First, the Anfract is no longer to be feared. Any dangerous aspects were a consequence of its being a Builder artifact. The same is true of any problem we had in escaping from Genizee itself. Finally, let me remind you of Quintus Bloom and Darya Lang’s assertion: the Zardalu will play an important part, along with the other clades, in the future of the spiral arm. And we, Atvar H’sial and Louis Nenda, will control the Zardalu! Already, they think of themselves as our slaves. Let me ask you a question: Do you know of any other planet in the spiral arm that we can make completely ours?”

“No place that I’d want to go. We could probably buy Mucus for next-to-nothin’, but you can have my share. All right, I’ll go for the deal as you’ve pitched it. But I don’t know why you keep goin’ on about me and Darya Lang, that’s old history.” Nenda turned back to the waiting Zardalu. “My partner has pleaded with me on your behalf. We will make sure you don’t get damaged too much on Miranda.”

“Thank you, Master.” The purple tongue came slithering out.

“Put that away. I don’t ever want to see it again.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And after we get you back from the people on Miranda, we’re going to take you home. To Genizee. Then you’ll help us make plans for all the Zardalu to come back to space. Under our control. You understand?”

“Yes, Master. I will serve you faithfully. If necessary, I personally will kill any Zardalu who seeks to do otherwise, or who disobeys you in any way.”

“Attagirl. That’s what I like to hear. If you’re really good till we get to Miranda, I’ll let you glide down the gangway on your own tentacles and wow the locals. That’s a promise.” Louis turned to Atvar H’sial. “Okay. Done deal. Only thing left is to collect the money.”

“That, and one thing more.” The Cecropian followed Nenda as he started out of the cargo hold. The pheromones were oddly hesitant. Nenda wondered. Atvar H’sial was not noted for diffidence.

“What’s up, At?”

“I wish to request a great favor of you. These past weeks have been most frustrating for me. I have lacked communication ability with anyone but you. And yet the future of the spiral arm, we hear, must involve increased interclade activity. Therefore, I have reached a decision. I must perfect an ability to interface directly with humans.”

“No problem. We’ll get a ship with plenty of computer capacity.”

“That will not teach me the human outlook, as it is reflected in your curious speech. I will need a computer as the interface, true. But I must also converse with a human.”

“What the hell do you think I am? A peanut?”

“A patient human. One willing to devote substantial time to the effort.”

“Forget it.”

“Precisely. Which brings me to my request. Would you consider asking Glenna Omar on my behalf to travel with us, to assist me in perfecting my human speech skills? She already taught me to employ beat frequencies within my echolocation system, and so offer the longer wavelength sounds accessible to humans. Thus, a greeting.” Atvar H’sial produced a grating low-pitched groan. With a lot of imagination Nenda decided that it could be interpreted as “Hello.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Improbable as it seems, I think she admires you more than me. The request would be received better from you. Also, you are able to frame it with more precision in human terms.”

Nenda swung round and stared up at the Cecropian’s blind head. “Let’s get this straight. You want me to try an’ talk Glenna Omar into signing on with us? Long term.”

“Precisely. If you are successful, I will acknowledge a major debt to you.”

“Damn right you will. It sounds impossible.”

“But you will make the attempt?”

“I don’t know. When?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Hell.”

“I hope not. You will do it?”

“All right. I’ll talk to her.” Louis glared up at his towering partner. “But I don’t want you watching. You’ll mess up my style.”

“I will not move from this spot until you return.”

“Might take a while no matter what she says.”

“I will wait. And I will steel myself for the possibility that you will return with bad news.”

“You do that. I’d better get it over with.”

The passenger quarters were in the bow, far from the cargo hold. Louis started the trek forward, wondering how he was going to handle this. There wasn’t a chance in a million that Glenna would agree, but he had to make Atvar H’sial believe that he had done his best.

In the mid-section of the ship he came across Kallik and J’merlia sitting cross-legged on the floor. He stopped as he came up to them, struck by another thought.

“What are you two planning to do, now the trouble’s all over?”

Lemon-yellow eyes on their short eyestalks and doublet rings of black eyes gazed back at him in shared amazement. “Why,” said Kallik, “we are coming with you.”

“And with my dominatrix, Atvar H’sial,” J’merlia added. “What else?”

Which made the presence of Glenna Omar unnecessary. J’merlia was the perfect interpreter. It would be no good telling that to At, though. Louis knew from experience, the Cecropian was nothing if not stubborn. If she insisted that she wanted to learn human speech from a human…

“Atvar H’sial is back there.” Nenda nodded aft. “Go tell her that the two of you will be staying with us, and say that’s fine with me. Tell her I’m on my way to talk to Glenna Omar.”

Which just about wrapped it up. A quick and indignant refusal from Glenna, and Louis could break the bad news to the Cecropian. He started out again along the corridor.

Glenna was alone in her bedroom, staring into the mirror. Even now, with the emergency long past, she was not wearing makeup. Her blond hair was piled high, showing the long and graceful neck, and her skin was as clear and smooth as a young girl’s. She was wearing a scanty pink slip with a plunging neckline, long gold earrings, and nothing else. Her reflection beamed at Louis as he came in.

“Just the man I wanted to see.” She did not turn around.

“Yeah?” A bad start.

“You know that after Miranda, the Salvation is heading for Sentinel Gate?”

“I hear that’s the plan. Darya Lang and E.C. Tally want to go there.”

“But Hans Rebka says you won’t be going on. You’ll stay for a while on Miranda, then take off for some other place.”

“Sounds more than likely. Miranda’s not the place for me and At, any more than Sentinel Gate.”

“Or for me.” Glenna spun around in her chair to face him. She stood up and grabbed his hands. “Louis — take me with you. Wherever you’re going, I want to go.”

“What!” Nenda’s defenses came up automatically. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”

“You like me, I know you do. Why don’t you want me with you?”

“I do like you.” Nenda hadn’t intended to say that. He was baffled by his own surge of feelings. “I like you, sure I do. But it’s — well, it’s — I dunno. It’s not that simple. I have to say no.”

“Is it that you are ashamed that you come from a crude, barbaric part of the spiral arm, and you know that educated people from any decent place will look down on you?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Is it because you have a funny accent, so that civilized persons laugh when they hear you?”

“Never occurred to me. I think I sound fine.”

“Is it because you know you’re little and dark and ugly, and I’m tall and blond and beautiful?”

“Naw. But don’t stop. You’re doin’ wonders for my self-esteem.”

“Because, you see, if it’s any of those things I don’t care about them at all.”

“It’s none of them.”

“So what is it?” Glenna struck a pose, hand set on rounded hip. “Don’t you find me attractive?”

“I think you’re the sexiest thing on two legs. Or four.” Louis saw her eyes widen, and added hastily, “Not that I’ve tried that, of course. But you don’t know what I’m like, Glenna.”

“So tell me.”

“I’ve led a hard life.”

“And you haven’t let it break your spirit. I admire you for that.”

“Not an honest life.”

“Who is honest? We all tell lies.”

“Mebbe. But Glenna, I’m a crook, for God’s sake.”

“And I’m a tramp. Ask anyone on Sentinel Gate, male or female, they’ll tell you. We make a fine pair, Louis.”

“No. You still don’t get it. Glenna, I’ve killed men.”

“And I’ve done my best to — the hard way. You know that, if anyone does.” She moved closer. Her eyes glowed, and she looked ready to eat him. Her hands reached out to touch his chest. “But there’s more to it than you think. Louis, you don’t understand something, and you may find it hard to believe me when I say it. But cross my heart, it’s true. I can’t bear the idea of leaving you and going back to Sentinel Gate. My life was easy and safe there, but it wasn’t exciting. It was deadly dull. I’m no great brain, like Professor Lang. I sometimes hate her for being so good at what she does, but I admire her, too. My job had a nice title, Senior Information Specialist. You know what I did? I moved information I didn’t care about from one data storage unit I didn’t care about to another like it. You know the biggest thrill I had, all the years I worked there?”

“Meeting Quintus Bloom.”

“No. Well, yes and no. My big thrill was meeting some man from off-planet, like you or Bloom, and doing my best to hustle him into bed before he left Sentinel Gate. I didn’t care what he looked like, or whether he seemed nice or not, provided he was an off-worlder. I didn’t have to get off on it myself, or even enjoy it. The whole challenge was to bed him. I would sleep with anyone. I would have slept with Quintus Bloom, though I bet that under his clothes he was wall-to-wall scabs. There. Now I’ve upset you.”

“Let’s say you don’t make me feel too singled out for special privileges.”

“But you are. That’s what I’m trying to say. Even if you make me go back to Sentinel Gate, I can’t be the way I was before. You’ve changed me, Louis. You are an absolutely wonderful lover, but that’s only a little bit of what attracts me to you. You live an exciting life. Being with you is fun. You’re brave, you’re wild, you take risks, you grab enjoyment wherever you find it. You never complain about anything. People on Sentinel Gate make more fuss over a paper cut than you would if you lost an arm.” She moved her body against his. “Louis, take me with you. Please.”

“You’d get tired of me in a week.”

“There’s only one way to find out. I’m betting it’s not true.”

“But what will you do? Can you cook, or make clothes, or clean house?”

“Let’s not get ridiculous. I have my talents. You know some of them already. But Louis, you’re not being honest with me. I can see it in your eyes. There’s something else. Why won’t you let me be your woman, and go with you wherever you go? Is it somebody else — that other woman?”

“There’s no other woman. And it’s not because I don’t want you. It’s Atvar H’sial. She’ll be sure to say no.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“No! Don’t even think of that. Better let me do it.”

“You would do that? For me?” Glenna gave him a hug and a kiss that scrambled his cerebral cortex worse than a trip through a Builder vortex.

“I’ll try.”

“Wonderful!”

“But I know Atvar H’sial. She’ll ask a price. She may even want you to go on working with her on human speech.”

“I don’t mind that. It’s fun, not work.”

Glenna’s hands slid down his body. She was all set to steal second base, but Louis pushed her away. “Let me get this over with first. I’ll go and talk to Atvar H’sial.” He swallowed and stared at Glenna’s peek-a-boo pink slip. “Then I’ll come right back.”

“I’ll not move from this spot until you return.”

Where had he heard that before? From Atvar H’sial, no less. Louis’s pulse was racing as he escaped from Glenna’s bedroom and headed aft. His mind was as furiously active as his hormones.

Atvar H’sial was going to owe him, big-time. That was great, especially when he didn’t deserve the debt. Revenge is a dish best eaten cold. It was a long time since Atvar H’sial had snoozed and made Louis do all the work, when they had first escaped Genizee and were lost in the Anfract; but the memory was still strong.

And they had their Zardalu, worth a guaranteed fortune on Miranda. Plus Kallik, his very own favorite Hymenopt, back once more in Louis’s possession. For the first time in years no one in the spiral arm was after his blood, or trying to arrest him. The most exciting woman he had ever met in his whole life wanted him and liked him as much as he wanted and liked her.

Louis halted, leaned against a bulkhead, and concentrated his thoughts. It was too much, too good to be true. He needed to discover the hidden snare, the cruel trap that would turn all the wonders to horrors. It was sure to be there, it always was, but where was it? He felt baffled. Maybe he was being dim or naive, but he could not see a single cloud on the horizon.

Finally he sighed and gave up.

Happy endings were for children’s stories and fools. You live in misery, and then you die. Life, by definition, was not designed to end happily.

Louis continued aft. No happy ending, then. That was a fact, certain as death itself. He was living at the moment in a dream, an imagined world where everything went right.

But — dreams are real while they last. Could you say more of life?

A dream sequence was no more than a happy interlude, but maybe a happy interlude could last for an awful long time.

Louis approached the waiting Atvar H’sial. He was going to stretch this one for as long as he could.