The Spheres of Heaven

21: REUNION

Bony had been very young when the quarantine was imposed, and in his childhood he had absorbed the widespread human bias against other members of the Stellar Group. Pipe-Rillas were hopeless cowards. Tinkers were unstable. Angels were enormously intelligent, but they were also obstinate, complaining, and inscrutable. It was an outrage that such flawed and inferior beings should control access to the stars, while denying it by quarantine to superior humans.

Perhaps; but when you were stranded on the seabed of an alien world with a major storm raging overhead, a limited air supply, and no idea what to do next, you became aware of other alien qualities.

Vow-of-Silence was crouching in the silt-filled water with the Angel cradled in two of her fore-limbs and an amorphous mass of Tinkers heaped by her side. As Bony and Liddy came up to her, the Pipe-Rilla bobbed her head toward the humans and said, “There is a slight difficulty. Although the Finder is no more than two or three kilometers away, the storm has so filled the water around us with suspended sediments that earlier sea-markers are invisible. Also, night approaches. We do not know in which direction we should proceed to reach our ship. Do you?”

For a coward the Pipe-Rilla sounded remarkably calm — much calmer than Bony felt. He looked at Liddy. She shrugged, and said to Vow-of-Silence, “I’m afraid we don’t.”

Bony felt like an idiot — setting a beacon for your return path should be second nature to anyone who claimed technical competence. The Angel said, “ ‘Full fathom five, thy Finder lies,’ ” which didn’t seem to help at all.

Vow-of-Silence said, “Very good. Eager Seeker, I’m sorry to trouble you. If you wouldn’t mind?”

Eager Seeker offered no reply, but the whole heap of the Tinker Composite disassembled, rose, and circled briefly like an underwater tornado. Then the components streaked away in all directions.

Bony said, “What?” but Liddy’s nudge saved him from making a bigger fool of himself. After a couple of minutes the Angel added, “ ‘They also serve who only stand and wait.’ ” Five minutes later the Tinker components came streaming back. They merged to make a tall column, held there for maybe ten seconds, then reformed to create a horizontal line that snaked away into the murk.

“Thank you, Eager Seeker.” Vow-of-Silence gestured to Bony and Liddy with one of her fore-limbs. “After you.”

“How could the Tinker understand that?” Liddy asked Bony, as they followed the strung-out line of components. “I thought they had no intelligence unless they were formed into a Composite.”

She spoke softly, but Vow-of-Silence heard her. “Indeed they do not.” The Pipe-Rilla with her Angel burden was close behind. As she moved to Bony’s side, the individual components in the line of Tinkers behind her coalesced into a rough sphere.

“My reply was formal politeness,” Vow-of-Silence went on, “and no more than that. I will repeat our expression of gratitude when we reach the ship, and Eager Seeker is once more fully assembled into a higher consciousness.”

The Angel said nothing. The blue-green fronds were furled about the upper body, and to Bony’s eye the resemblance to a large vegetable became complete.

The little party trudged on across the seafloor as twilight edged toward night. Flickers of lightning, faint and far-off, picked out the guiding column of Tinkers. It seemed far more than three kilometers when the rococo outline of the toppled Finder at last appeared.

Bony was too tired to do more than struggle aboard, remove his suit, and find a place to lie down on a cluttered floor that was actually a wall. After a few seconds Liddy came to curl up beside him. She snuggled close but said not a word. Bony was left to reflect that this was an adolescent’s dream. He was spending the night with a woman who had been trained in the Leah Rainbow Academy for the Daughters of Gentlefolk, a woman who had been trained to please men in a hundred different ways. A woman, moreover, who seemed to like him and had told him that he was attractive.

Bony sighed. If Liddy knew a hundred ways to delight, Life knew a thousand ways to disappoint. Nothing was going to happen tonight.

He put a protective arm over her. In the few moments before he went to sleep he decided that human judgment was wrong. Pipe-Rillas were brave, not cowardly. Tinkers were not unstable, but steady and reliable. Only the Angels appeared to match their reputation. His final memory was of a synthesizer voice, grumbling from a dark corner: “Standing without the touch of soil, bare-rooted and bereft of light. `How are the mighty fallen!’ ”

Hunger woke Bony. He lay in darkness and could not recall when he had last eaten. His stomach was growling like a wild beast.

He reached out and found Liddy gone. He opened his eyes, and the Angel’s corner stood empty. Over to his right, the port showed the first faintest glint of dawn. Off to his left, toward the ship’s bow, he saw a brighter light and heard the sound of voices.

He rubbed tired eyes, stood up, and headed to the adjoining chamber. They were all there. The Angel stood directly beneath a glowing tube, its lower part in a container filled with dark liquid. Eager Seeker had assembled its components into a fat ring around the Angel’s bulky middle section. As Bony came in, Liddy — wonderful mind-reader Liddy — handed him a white half-moon with a crumbly texture and said, “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not bad and it’s supposed to be suited to a human digestion.”

Bony took a big bite, nodded his thanks, and joined the others in staring at the Pipe-Rilla. Vow-of-Silence was crouched by the main control desk of the Finder , and she was shaking her narrow head. “We have a status report on the condition of this ship, which is not good. We also have other surprising news. I have called for an oral summary.” Vow-of-Silence bowed to Bony and Liddy. “Recognizing your limitations, it will be provided in your form of speech.”

In spite of the polite gesture the final comment was, at the very least, a dig at humans. Pipe-Rillas and Tinker Composites had no difficulty picking up in a few weeks everything from Swahili to Sioux, while less than a hundred human interpreters had mastered the alien languages. As for the native tongue of the tongueless Angels, even the Tinkers and Pipe-Rillas said it was next to impossible.

Even so, Bony wondered if this was going to work. The onboard computer of the Finder was probably as good as the Pipe-Rillas could make, but in this area of technology nothing in the Stellar Group came close to human products. Sure enough, the voice that came from the cabin address system had a labored, mechanical quality, with odd breaks between words.

THERE HAS BEEN A CONTINUED STEADY DETERIORATION IN THIS SHIP’S ENERGY SUPPLY AND STORAGE SYSTEMS. ONE STORAGE ELEMENT SUFFERED MAJOR DAMAGE UPON EMERGING FROM THE LINK INTO WATER, AND IT CANNOT BE USED. THE MINOR HULL FRACTURE EXPERIENCED AT THAT SAME TIME HAS BEEN COMPENSATED THROUGH THE USE OF A SEPARATING FIELD, BUT SUCH A FIELD REQUIRES A SUBSTANTIAL AND CONTINUOUS EXPENDITURE OF ENERGY. THAT ENERGY CANNOT BE REPLACED, NOR CAN REPAIRS BE MADE, UNTIL THE SHIP IS NO LONGER IMMERSED IN A DENSE SURROUNDING MEDIUM. TRANSFER OF THE SHIP TO ITS DESIGNED VACUUM ENVIRONMENT MUST OCCUR WITHIN THREE DAYS, OTHERWISE PRESENT LEVELS OF LIFE-SUPPORT SYSTEMS CANNOT BE MAINTAINED.

Bony wondered if “vacuum” really meant vacuum. Would it do to raise the Finder to the surface, or beach it? That sort of thing would not be easy, but it was an area suited to his own fix-up skills. Given a day or two and some cooperation he could certainly have raised the Mood Indigo using the auxiliary thrustors, and probably taken it to space. The Finder was much more of an unknown quantity, but he was willing to give it a shot if they would let him.

The computer was not finished. THE ELECTROMAGNETIC COMMUNICATIONS SYSTEM HAS NOT FUNCTIONED CORRECTLY SINCE IMMERSION. THE NEUTRINO COMMUNICATION SYSTEM WAS RESTORED TO SERVICE ELEVEN HOURS AGO, IN SO FAR AS SUCH A RESTORATION IS POSSIBLE WITHOUT A MAJOR OVERHAUL. CONTACT HAS BEEN MADE WITH TWO VESSELS: FIRST, THE MINISTER OF GRACE , WITH A CREW OF ANGELS AND OF SELLORAN REGISTRATION. HOWEVER, THIS CONTACT WAS LOST NINE HOURS AGO AND HAS NOT BEEN REGAINED.

The Angel said gloomily, “The Minister of Grace , swept into the abyss by the force of the storm. `Thou art lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry.’ ”

The computer ignored the Angel and went on, SECOND, THE HERO’S RETURN , WITH A CREW OF HUMANS AND WITH SOL REGISTRATION, REPORTS THAT IT IS NEWLY ARRIVED IN THIS VICINITY AND LIES ON THE SEABED ROUGHLY THREE KILOMETERS FROM OUR POSITION. WE CONTINUE TO EXCHANGE LOCATION AND IDENTIFICATION SIGNALS WITH THE COMPUTER OF THE HERO’S RETURN.

Bony decided that the Finder’s onboard computer was not just primitive, it was very dumb. He had never heard of a ship named the Hero’s Return , but it sounded just like the sort of thing you would call a Class Five cruiser. Any decent computer ought to have that kind of information in its data banks — and it should be able to rank information in probable order of importance. This news should have set off every alarm bell in the ship, announcing that the new vessel had appeared. The computer on the Hero’s Return , along with its crew, must be going crazy wondering why they had heard nothing in return but a bland I/D signal.

If no one else knew what to do, it was up to him. Bony — with the cursed stammer that came always at the wrong time — blurted out, “Ask the Hero’s Return to s-send us a p-picture. And ask for information on ship type.”

Vow-of-Silence reached a claw toward the control board, then hesitated. “Do you already know about this ship?”

“No. But if it’s the same one that flew overhead when we were sitting on the seabed — and I think it must be — it could be a Class Five cruiser.”

“A warship ?” Vow-of-Silence said, while a flurry of Tinker components rose and fluttered excitedly all around the cabin. “Such an arrival would be unspeakable.”

While Bony wondered how to answer — if he were right, it was certainly a warship — Liddy helped him out. “Lots of the old solar system warships have been converted to civilian use. Right, Bony?”

“They have. All the offensive weapons were taken out, and they don’t carry a fighting crew any more. But if it’s a Class Five cruiser, it will be superbly equipped and difficult to destroy. We would be far safer there than here. All of us.” He thought of the Angel. “They have an onboard sunroom and a garden area, for crew relaxation.”

“Hah!” The fronds on the upper part of the Angel waved, and the compact body emitted a rapid series of high-pitched squeaks. Even as Bony realized that this was Gressel’s digital audio command to the ship’s computer, the reply was coming. OUR INQUIRY HAS BEEN RECEIVED AND WE HAVE THE RESPONSE. THE HERO’S RETURN IS CONFIRMED AS A CONVERTED CLASS FIVE CRUISER SERVED BY A HUMAN CREW. THE PASSENGER-CARRYING CAPACITY IS ONE THOUSAND AND SEVENTY UNDER NON-EMERGENCY CONDITIONS, BUT THE SHIP NOW CARRIES A COMPLEMENT OF ONLY EIGHT HUMANS. IT IS ALSO CONFIRMED THAT THE SURVIVAL PROBABILITY OF ALL BEINGS ON BOARD THIS SHIP WOULD BE GREATLY INCREASED BY TRANSFER TO THE HERO’S RETURN. SUCH A TRANSFER HAS ALREADY BEEN PROPOSED. WE RECOMMEND IT, AND THE ABANDONMENT OF THIS VESSEL.

Bony wondered just who was recommending the transfer. From the speed of the transaction, the only parties who could be involved were the ships’ computers. Had the idea of the move come from this ship? If so, the Finder’s computer was condemning itself to oblivion. The machine existed in distributed form throughout the ship, and there was no possible way to take it to the Hero’s Return. It would fade and die as the onboard energy supply dwindled.

If anyone shared Bony’s thoughts, they did not mention it. Vow-of-Silence said, “It will mean suits again. A nuisance, but the journey will be a short one.” She turned to Bony and Liddy. “I have called for a crew-to-crew visual link. Since we are dealing with a human ship, initial contact and the indication of our desire to transfer would come better from two humans. Agreed?”

Did they have a choice? Bony waited for the two-way video link. At last, a picture appeared. The display showed a man and woman sitting side by side and looking right at the occupants of the Finder’s cabin. The man had a wary, weary expression, the dark-haired woman was fresh-faced and seemed to glow with health.

The two of them stared and stared without saying a word. The man’s mouth hung open, while the woman leaned forward and frowned in disbelief.

Liddy glanced around the cabin and could see nothing to astonish. When Bony remained silent, she at last said, “Hello, Hero’s Return. Are you there? Do we have contact?” There was still no reply. She nudged Bony, who sat frozen. “Something’s wrong with the communications. I don’t think they’re seeing or hearing us at all. Bony? Are you listening to me? Bony? Bony!”

Not just Chan Dalton and Deb Bisson, but the whole bunch — Dapper Dan and Chrissie and Tarbush and Tully O’Toole. Bony tried to explain about the team to Liddy on their surrealistic dawn journey across the seafloor, but he was not sure she believed him. He was not sure he believed himself. A hundred lightyears, or two hundred, or however many it was from Earth, and the first humans you run into are old friends.

Liddy reacted calmly. She and Bony kept very close to each other, drifting along the coastal shelf in the faint, filtered light of early morning. It was improbable for him to meet his old friends here? Fine, so it was improbable; but it had happened. “Improbable” was something you could only apply to future events.

The Hero’s Return stretched its length along the seabed, so big that as they approached the center lock for admission to the ship, the bow and stern were invisible through the cloudy water. The storm was past, but here its after-effects lingered on far below the surface. After the first chaotic minutes of hugs and handshakes, the group settled into the ship’s main fire control chamber, and detailed explanations began.

Chan Dalton introduced Dag Korin, and the grizzled General offered a terse description of the Hero’s Return’s Link transition and surprising underwater arrival. As he finished he glared with distaste at the Pipe-Rilla, the Angel, and the assembled Tinker Composite.

Vow-of-Silence took over, but she could add very little. The Pipe-Rilla, like the Angel and the humans, had expected her ship’s Link transition to terminate in vacuum. In fact, it seemed impossible that it would not do so, given all the built-in safeguards employed by the Stellar Group.

Bony had not expected that he and Liddy would have much to offer, but after Dag Korin and the Pipe-Rilla had explained how they came to be here, one of the crew of the other ship, a tall, woefully thin blonde named Elke Siry, sat down in front of Bony. She had been introduced as the expedition’s scientist, and she wanted to know everything. What tests had he done on the water? What had they seen of plants and animals on the seafloor? When they were on the surface, had they seen anything of the night sky of Limbo? What could they tell her about the surface gravity of the planet? About the distance to the horizon? Where was Friday Indigo, and the Mood Indigo ? What had they learned in their brief visit to the land? What about the aircraft he had seen? What about the object that Bony suspected to be a Link entry point? Was he sure it was a changing feature, sometimes there and sometimes not?

Her questions went on and on. Finally she frowned, chewed at her lower lip, and asked, “What else can you tell me about the bubble people? Why are you so sure they can’t go on land, and could not be the makers of the aircraft that you saw?”

Bony was sure, but he didn’t know how to prove it. Help came from an odd quarter. The Angel, newly rooted in a large pot of black earth, had so far sat motionless and spoken not a word. Now the upper fronds waved and a mournful synthesized voice said, “ ‘Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.’ ”

That was enough to draw Elke Siry’s attention. She turned away from Bony as the Angel went on, “The beings whom you term `bubble people’ are knowledgeable in certain forms of biotechnology. They are able to control living undersea organisms so as to construct simple domiciles, and they have a fair command of bioluminescent methods to achieve light during the hours of darkness.”

Dag Korin glared and asked Bony’s question. “How the devil can you possibly know such things?”

“We talked to them when we left our ship, the Minister of Grace.”

“You have no translation unit.”

“True, but irrelevant. We have no need of translation equipment. We learned and spoke their language.” Dag Korin snorted in surprise or disbelief, but the Angel went on calmly, “The bubble people lack knowledge of mechanical engineering, of physics, of mathematics, and of the world above the water. They say that the feature which you suspect to be a Link entry point was not always there. They lack sufficient concept of measured time to say when it arrived. However, to them the `foam object at the edge of the world which comes and goes’ is coupled with other bad changes. They are marine organisms and they have never been able to go on the land, but they used to visit the shallow waters close to the shore. Since the suspected Link point appeared, they cannot do so. If they go too close to the shore now, they say they will die or disappear. All this, together with the information that has been exchanged here, suggests certain tentative conclusions.”

Only, by the look of it, to Elke Siry. The Angel’s speech had come as no great surprise to Bony. Vow-of-Silence had mentioned that death came to Sea-wanderers who went close to the shore, and everything else fitted with what he already knew. But conclusions? He couldn’t deduce any. Nor, from the look of their faces, could Chan and the rest of the humans.

Except, of course, for Elke. She nodded at Gressel and said, “Certain conclusions, which perhaps I can make less tentative.” She touched the pad on her wrist, and one of the ship’s giant wall displays came alive. “The air-breathing pinnaces seem to be damaged beyond repair” — Chrissie and Tarbush exchanged anguished looks — “but the unmanned orbiters survived intact, and a few hours ago the ship was able to launch a pair of them. They are busy mapping the land and sea surface of this planet, and have provided occasional views of the heavens. Here is the night sky of Limbo, as seen from orbit.”

The screen filled, not with stars and veils of dust but with hundreds and thousands of glowing spheres. They could be seen in every direction from Limbo, too numerous to count, of all sizes and pulsing with their own soft light.

Elke Siry waited for the gasps and grunts of surprise to die down before she swiveled away from the display to face the others in the control room. “What we see there is not, I think we can all agree, anywhere in the Geyser Swirl. And that fact, together with everything else we know, is enough. With your permission, I will explain where we are, and what happened to bring us here. Though I suspect that she” — Elke stabbed a thin finger in the Angel’s direction — “already knows, because we seem to think in rather the same way.”

“We much prefer to be known as it. However.” The Angel opened wide its lower fronds. “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Call us what you will. And pray continue.”