The Spheres of Heaven

34: NEGOTIATION AND BETRAYAL

Chan had been itching to get ashore since the ship’s arrival in the ocean of Limbo. Now, following Friday Indigo across an open wilderness of seared rock, he had too much on his mind to take much notice of his surroundings.

Back on the Hero’s Return he had decided, quite deliberately, that he must act completely alone. If others of the crew knew what he had in mind they might have offered useful ideas; but with the Malacostracans clearly able to turn any human into a robotic slave who would tell everything, more people in the know meant more risk.

Unfortunately, the person most likely to become such a slave was now Chan himself. Chrissie and Tarbush had escaped, so if Friday Indigo collapsed Chan was the logical next in line.

They were passing a line of strangely shaped aircraft, familiar from Bony Rombelle’s description and the images taken from orbit. Chan forced himself to concentrate on them, and even more on the two huge and ungainly oval shapes that floated beyond them. According to Dag Korin those must be the mother ships, the vehicles used to bring everything else through the Link from the Mallies’ home world and home universe.

Chan studied the alien outlines, hovering above the ground with no sign of support. His conviction strengthened that no human or Stellar Group member would be able to fly one of those without either a Malacostracan pilot or a few weeks of trial-and-error experimentation. The ships were simply too different from anything he had ever seen. According to Friday Indigo, the Malacostracans held precisely the same view: a human might direct the Mallies in making a Link transition, but stealing their ship and flying it home to the human universe was out of the question.

Friday Indigo led him past the line of ships and aircraft, toward a jumble of low buildings. Half a dozen dark figures stood guard outside the nearest one. Indigo walked confidently to and past them. Chan hesitated for half a second, then did the same. He stared at them as he walked by. The crustacean shapes were familiar from Deb and Danny’s description, but nothing could prepare you for the strange forward hunch of the flat carapace, or the click of pincers and whistle of breathing tubes.

They find you every bit as strange as you find them.Chan stared straight ahead and followed Friday Indigo into the long dark archway, almost like a tunnel, that led into the building. But he remained very aware of the short black canes carried by two of the Malacostracan guards. According to Deb, those innocent-looking sticks were the weapons that had felled and paralyzed Chrissie Winger and Tarbush Hanson.

The floor of the tunnel descended. Daylight faded. Chan kept his gaze on Friday Indigo, but he felt and heard the splash of dark liquid. They were walking in water — if it was water — that rose steadily to the level of his knees. A right turn, another archway, and he saw light ahead. They emerged into a domed chamber illuminated by the diffuse gleam of melon-sized globes in the ceiling. More water, still knee-deep. In the center of the room, on a flat surface like a low table, sprawled a miniature version of the Malacostracan guards with its many jointed legs spread over the edges.

Friday Indigo paused.

“The One?” Chan said hesitantly.

Indigo gave him a scornful look. “Of course not. This is just Two-Four.” To the creature, “Here is the negotiator. Permission to enter?”

The little Malacostracan raised its black cane and emitted a series of clicks and clatters.

“ Permission is granted by The One. She is within.” The words came from a translation unit — a human-built translation unit, from the look of it — on the front part of the table.

Friday was walking forward. Chan said, “That translator. Won’t we need it?”

“Unnecessary.” Friday did not break stride. “All we need with The One is present in me.”

Chan’s tension increased. Here was direct proof of the Angel’s assertion: Friday Indigo could say anything that The One wanted said, and in gaining that capability he had ceased to be human. To the Malacostracans, humans were expendable.

He followed Friday Indigo, up a gently inclined ramp to still another room. This one was smaller, dry, and apparently deserted. A huge lumpy rock sat at its center. Its lower part was riddled with fist-sized holes. It looked like an ugly and primitive sculpture.

“We have permission to advance,” Indigo said. “Walk forward. Follow me.”

Chan approached the silent rock. As he did so, two black hoses emerged from the upper ring of holes and snaked through the air toward him. He started to take a step back, but halted at Friday’s urgent, “Stand still! There is nothing to be afraid of.”

Chan froze. The ends of the hoses were divided into fine bundles of thin filaments. They had reached his body and were feeling their way up it.

Friday Indigo said, as casually as if he was suggesting that Chan take a seat, “Unseal your helmet all the way. This is part of your negotiation.”

Chan took a deep breath. He opened his visor. The thin bundles of filaments moved up, to rest one below each of his ears.

“Now,” Indigo said. “You will be permitted the privilege of free speech. Tell how you and your party can be of service to The One and to the People.”

“We understand your wish to explore our universe. We can lead you to it.” Chan did his best to remain calm and organize his thoughts. He suspected that he was talking for his life — more than his life. It would be worse than death to become a zombie like Friday Indigo, a walking dead who existed only to serve the object sitting in front of him. He went on, “I do not know how to fly your ship, that would require long training. But I am able to work with your pilots, to generate a transition sequence that will carry you through the Link.”

“Ah.” Indigo was frowning. “First you say we , as though speaking for all your party. Then you say, I , as though speaking only for yourself. The One asks, does that change have meaning?”

“It does.” Chan was very aware of the thin tentacles touching below his ears. He had seen the dried blood on Friday Indigo’s neck, and heard the Angel’s assertion that some form of Malacostracan life existed inside Friday’s brain. “I say that I , and I alone, will do this thing for you, because I do not trust others in my party to act in my interests. Which is to say, I do not trust others to do the thing which is best for me.”

“And what is best for you?”

“To provide service to you, and so avoid my own destruction.”

“And that service is?”

“To lead you to another universe, the human universe, that is hospitable to life.”

“And your reward for doing this?”

“My life. My freedom. Perhaps, power as a servant of the Malacostracans.”

“And for the others of your party?”

“That is of little interest to me. I care only about my own life and future.”

“You are willing to do anything to save that life?”

“I am. I understand self-interest, as perhaps you also understand self-interest.” Chan felt the first touch of delicate tendrils, moving into the openings of his ears. He had to talk fast. He said, “My job in leading you through to my universe will be a difficult one, even with help from your pilots. It requires that I have full possession of all my faculties. My brain cannot be drugged, or exhausted. It cannot be changed in any way.”

The tendrils stopped moving. Friday Indigo said, “We understand self-interest. It is our impression that most humans comprehend such a thing only weakly. Give proof that you are different from them.”

“How?”

A third hose emerged from the rock. Its prehensile end held one of the black canes. The hose swayed forward until it was a foot from Chan’s chest.

Indigo said, “Do you know what this does?”

“I think so. It is a weapon.”

“Correct. At one setting, it stuns. At another, it kills. This one is now set at a level fatal to humans.”

Chan looked down at the cane, pointed straight at his heart. He could think of nothing else to say or do. Had he made some fatal mistake, missed some vital cue?

Friday Indigo said, “Take it.”

Chan reached out and grasped the cane. It was smooth, and slightly sticky to the touch.

Friday said, “It is activated by pointing at the target, and squeezing anywhere along its length. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Now prove that you are different from others of your party. Give the evidence of your own self-interest.” Indigo’s voice was calm and relaxed. “Point the weapon at the being standing next to you. Activate it. Kill the human you know as Friday Indigo.”

Chan raised the cane. A dozen jumbled thoughts seemed to race through his head at once. If I kill Friday, The One will have nobody to serve as a translation unit. Maybe Chrissie and Tarbush were intended for that fate, but they’ve escaped. But I’m here, and available for conversion. So if I kill Friday, I’m probably dooming myself. Suppose I don’t kill Friday? Then I’m still doomed. Anyway, I can’t kill a human in cold blood. But Friday isn’t a human, so I can kill Friday. No? Very well, then admit the truth. I can’t kill Friday, human or not. So my whole plan fails, unless The One accepts that I’ll need all my faculties intact to guide a Malacostracan pilot through the Link to a human universe. If so, then The One will want to keep my brain intact, and she will still have a use for Friday Indigo as translator. So The One won’t want Friday Indigo dead.

Chan thought, Forgive me if I’m wrong, aimed the cane right at Friday, and squeezed.

Nothing happened. Indigo did not fall paralyzed or dead. He continued to stare with calm interest at the black cane pointed at his heart.

“That is adequate proof,” he said. “And it was accomplished without the waste of still-valuable material. The cane was of course deactivated. Answer one more question correctly, and we will be ready to proceed. If The One were to call you directly into her service, as I was called, you would gladly tell everything including the correct invocation sequence for Link transfer to the human universe. Prove to The One that it would be a mistake for her to follow such a course of action.”

Again the tendrils were poised at the entrance to Chan’s ears. He had to swallow before he could speak. “I cannot offer such a proof. All I can say is that conversion of me to The One’s direct service might interfere with my ability to assist in the Link transition, should unforeseen circumstances arise. And there is absolutely no risk to The One in leaving me unconverted.”

“That is true.” To Chan’s relief, the black tentacles lifted free of his body and slowly withdrew into the body of The One. Once again he was facing a dull black rock.

Friday Indigo continued, “The Malacostracans will prepare a ship for Link transfer and a first exploration of the human universe. Soon after daybreak tomorrow, you will be taken aboard that ship with The One, and by midday you will assist in initiating that Link transfer. Until morning you are free to stay here and eat, drink, and rest.”

“Very good. But one other thing is necessary.” Chan cursed his own stupidity. He had not realized that the Malacostracans would want to move so fast.

“What is that?”

“Not knowing how this meeting would turn out, I did not bring with me the full protocol needed for Link transition to the human universe. I request that I be allowed to go to the Hero’s Return , prepare that protocol, and return here.”

“When?”

“I will be back by morning.”

“General Korin is by your own admission senior to you. How can you be sure that he will allow you to return?”

“I will tell him that our discussions here remain unfinished. He will not try to prevent my departure.”

After a long, agonizing silence, Friday Indigo nodded. “It is approved. Be sure that you return by daybreak. To encourage you to do so, I will mention that we plan to destroy the Hero’s Return soon after first light. Do you have any problem with this?”

“No problem.” Just the death of Deb and Danny and everyone else.

“Then you have permission to leave the presence of The One. It is The One’s introspection time.”

Leaving was easier said than done. The lights in the chamber suddenly turned off, leaving Chan unable to see The One or anything else. He heard the uneven sound of Friday Indigo’s boots, one foot dragging across the hard floor, and turned in that direction. He saw, very faintly, the outline of the chamber entrance. There were no lights in the next room, but a faint trace of daylight bled in from the tunnel at its far end.

Chan hurried along after Friday, through the archway, past the little Malacostracan seated on its flat dais, finally out into open air. The overcast had cleared, the sun was blazing. He caught the sulfurous odor of black rock baking in early afternoon heat, and felt that he had never smelled anything so good. Half an hour ago he would have taken odds against his smelling anything ever again of his own free will. He could still feel those questing tentacles at his ears.

Friday Indigo, a few feet in front of Chan, paused by the group of big Malacostracans guarding the entrance to the building. He rattled off an outlandish sequence of whistles and clicks. Two of the creatures reared up on their back legs, so that their waving eyestalks and purple-black carapaces loomed over Chan.

“I told them to escort you to the shore,” Friday said. “You must go directly to the beach, and straight into the water. If you seek to do anything other than that, they will stun you and drag you back here for their further instructions. After you leave, they will remain on the shore until you emerge from the water in your suit at dawn tomorrow morning. They will then escort you here. If you seek to linger on the beach tomorrow, they will stun you and drag you back for further instructions. Do you have any questions before I hand you over to them?”

“Suppose that the waves are too rough for me to go into the sea?”

“That will be your misfortune. It is useless for you to try to communicate with them, because they are Level Fours and of limited intelligence. Your failure to enter the water will be considered a deviation from instructions, and they will stun you—”

“ — and drag me back here for further instructions. I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow — right on time.”

The two Malacostracan guards placed themselves one ahead of and one behind Chan and moved away across the burned rock. They took a different path from the one that Friday Indigo had used, angling away to the right. Soon they were at the edge of the bare area and moving into waist-high scrub. They went forward confidently along a trail marked by flattened plants. They passed through a small clearing. Chan wanted to pause there, but he was too aware of the black canes. He kept walking, taking a quick glance at the open supply cases and the cans and boxes scattered on the ground next to them. The earth was scuffled and marked by the imprint of many clawed feet.

This was where Deb and the others had made their camp. If Chrissie and Tarb came here when they escaped, they had been too smart to linger. But where had they gone? Not back into the water. The breakers during the night would have been enormous.

Chan moved his hand up to close his helmet. The Malacostracan guards took no notice. To them, a human without a suit probably looked naked and unnatural, a shell-less version of a proper animal.

He flicked a switch on his gauntlet controls. Again the guards ignored him. Provided that he kept moving, that seemed to be all that they cared about. He adjusted the radio to the general communication frequency and increased the reception volume. He heard a background hiss and that was all. If Chrissie and Tarb were able to broadcast — if they had even escaped with their suits — they were not doing so. But that also made sense. A distress signal or any other form of message was also a beacon, advertising the location of its source.

Chan kept walking and listening, and heard nothing. They were emerging from the shelter of the vegetation. He saw the shore with its line of breakers, smaller and less threatening now, maybe fifty meters ahead.

It was time for him to take a chance. If his signal was picked up, the Malacostracans should think it came from the sea and the sunken Hero’s Return.

He added a transmission circuit. “Chrissie and Tarb. Can you hear this?”

Still the bland hiss, and the beach was within thirty meters.

“If you are receiving, stay in hiding. The part of the shoreline near your camp is guarded by the Malacostracans. Everyone on the Hero’s Return is alive and well” — true at the moment, presumably, but not for long unless Chan did something about it — “and we will be in touch with you as soon as we can. Repeat: stay hidden. If you are caught, the Malacostracans will execute you.”

Chan saw no reason to add that the deaths would be drawn-out and agonizing. In any case, he was at the edge of the shore and there was no time for more words. Again he tried to do what he had seen Deb do earlier. He marched straight ahead until the water lapped about his waist, then dived forward into the approaching wave.

This time he was more successful. Chan felt his heels briefly break the surface, then he was under and on his way. He swam as fast as he could. In one evening and one night on Limbo, he had to say good-bye to everything and everyone forever.