Aliena Too (12 page)

She did not hesitate. “Of course. They need to breed, as well as maintain a loving relationship.”

“And you're not jealous?”

“Of Star? I am. I wish it could be me with him. In human form I enjoyed repeated breeding with him. Yet I know that our separation must be, and that Star desperately needs Brom. So I am happy that he agrees to accept her and maintain the family. That secures the place of my daughter, Maple, too.”

He shook his head, which translated to a slight bobbing of his midsection. “You have a remarkably mature perspective.”

“This is my starfish nature. I am not clear: you expected otherwise?”

Again, he forced himself to be honest. “I had thought you might be a little jealous of any relationship I might have with Explora, especially with respect to breeding.”

“As a human would be,” she said, flashing surprise. “Oh, Quincy, I apologize. I did not think of that. I was being practical and missed the human complication.”

She was indeed. He was embarrassed for thinking she would react in the human manner. She had no romantic interest in him, only in securing his well being in his new host, and in properly propagating the species. “My fault.”

“Not at all. I should have considered it. Brom would have been jealous if I had tried to seduce another human man when I was human. I do know of the phenomenon. I simply overlooked it, and should not have.”

“Let's let it go.”

“That is best. But I do need to clarify that though my love is elsewhere, and my breeding instinct is practical, I do care for you, Quincy. Merely not in precisely the way you might have assumed.”

“I understand.” But it was a comedown, for all his love remained with Lida.

“I know that I can never be with Brom physically again, and must move on emotionally. You are the obvious prospect for that, because I will remain attached to the idea of a human relationship. So in time, as we both adapt, there should be a more emotional relationship between us.”

“And Explora will not interfere with that?”

“Explora should facilitate it. Any relationship you and I have will not be clouded by your obsession with breeding, because she will abate that.”

“My obsession,” he muttered, flashing darkly.

“Am I being insensitive again? How should I phrase it?”

Again, what could he do? She understood emotion intellectually, but not emotionally. “Maybe this way: you are the female I might like to consider as my wife, when the time comes for us each to move on. Explora I might consider as my mistress.”

She paused, evidently riffing through her mental vocabulary to assimilate the term in this context. “That is apt. A wife is not jealous of a mistress. Rather she finds her useful, to absorb the excess sexual energies of the husband.”

That was a way of putting it. “Then we understand the matter sufficiently. In the interim, what we have is a friendship.”

“Friendship,” she agreed, touching the tip of his arm. And he was abruptly asleep. It seemed that not only did touching facilitate sleep, it could also cause it when one of the parties felt it was time to end a dialogue.

When he woke in the morning, Aliena was gone. It must have been her departure that ended his sleep. She, of course, had things to do: running the ship and supervising the race.

He quickly took care of his morning chores and went to the site. The other male contestants were gathering, awaiting the formal start. Aliena was there, making sure that all were duly present, the lone pink person in a group of blue. They could see across the line of the layout that it had entirely changed. On this side the water was still; on the other side it was swirling, with hills, depths, and menacing swimming creatures.

Only then did Quincy realize that he would have a problem meeting with Explora, because neither of them now knew where the bird tree was. They would both have to search it out, hoping both found it. They should have arranged a better system to meet. He had started making mistakes before he even started the race!

“It is time,” Aliena said. “Enter your emulation boxes and proceed. You will have a day and a night to pass the finish line to the north, this being the southwest section; if no one completes the race within that time, no one wins. If there is a win within that time, this horn will sound.” There was a blast of sound coming through the water and ground and, he was sure, the air above. No one would miss that.

Was it possible that no one would win? That depended on the toughness of the course. Meanwhile he just had to hope the horn would not sound before he got there.

They went to their boxes, which looked like simple round tents big enough to hold one starfish each. Quincy entered his box and let the entrance flap drop down. Then he moved forward, through the material without disturbing it, emerging outside in the manner of a ghost. He saw the other starfish emerging similarly. They looked real, but they were emulations controlled by their bodies in the boxes. This was technology Earth did not yet have, but surely soon would, thanks to the generous starfish. In fact, Earth economies were booming because of the advances the starfish facilitated.

There were no other formalities. They all hurried past Aliena, the lone physical person remaining, and plunged into the larger emulation. The moment Quincy crossed the line, he was in a new world. He knew that Explora was entering similarly from the southeast section, some distance away. Was she similarly dismayed by its unfamiliarity?

A shark came at him. It was emulation, and he was emulation, but if it chomped him, he was out of the race. He raised his protective spines, coated with poison, and flashed warning. The shark sheered away. Could he have bluffed it, saving the expenditure of the poison? Maybe, but it was a gamble.

The shark dived at one of the other starfish, similarly flashing. And got it; in a moment an arm had been bitten off and swallowed, and another arm was being chomped. That starfish had bluffed and lost. Somehow the shark had known.

Quincy moved on, maintaining his spines, and the sharks left him alone. He needed to find that pond with the tree, and had no idea where it was. But his guess was that since it had been at the north end of the emulation before, it would now be elsewhere, most likely somewhere in the center. He simply had to zigzag in that general area hoping to find it. If he failed, then he would lose the race even if he didn't get eaten by a predator.

Now the landscape deepened. He recognized the feature: it was an old sinkhole containing a squid-like animal that would grab and consume any unwary intruder. The spines and poison would balk it, but there was no point in tangling with it anyway; it was merely an obstacle to progress.

Quincy turned left, to circle around the hole. But there was a sharp cliff, a wall going all the way to the surface, impenetrable. There was a narrow ledge between it and the sinkhole, but that was blocked by a patch of seaweed whose fronds waved hungrily: a kraken. It would be immune to both spines and poison. No passage there.

Annoyed by the waste of time, Quincy retraced his route and circled the sinkhole to the right. Another starfish was there before him. Significantly ahead because he had had the luck to take the correct turn. And of course luck counted; Quincy knew the enormous power of sheer chance. But over the course the breaks should tend to cancel out.

There was a rise, suggesting a choice of paths: left beside the sinkhole, right into a forest of tall seaweed, or over the top. The other starfish took the right path and disappeared into the forest. So Quincy took the left path, not wanting competitive company. This led precariously close to the sinkhole, but the footing was firm, and he proceeded at a tilt until he was around.

Only to encounter another gulf. This was not as deep as the first, but he saw the scraping tracks of giant lobster-like creatures whose pincers could nip off an arm without being deterred by the spines or poison. That was not worthwhile. So he backed off again, annoyed by the further waste of time, and took the climbing path. This led to the surface, another balk.

Or was it? This might be a narrow band of land that he could cross without dehydrating dangerously. He lifted an arm and looked around, adjusting to the changed perspective of air rather than water. Yes, it was thin, and he could cross it and return to water. He heaved himself up onto it—only to become aware of a stirring to his right. He hastily backed off, returning to the water.

The stirring turned out to be a serpent-like creature that slithered rapidly along looking for prey trapped on the narrow spit of land. It snapped at Quincy's retreating arm, and got a lipful of spines. It retreated, plunging its head into the adjacent water to clear the poison. And while it did, Quincy moved on up over the ridge and down into the water on the other side.

But the threats continued. A giant turtle-like creature swam toward him, another whose armor was largely immune to spikes or poison. But Quincy tried a new tactic, one he had privately rehearsed. He used his suckers to pick up a waterlogged stick and hold it aloft sideways. The turtle could not bite him without getting a mouthful of wood. It tried several times before giving it up as a bad job.

Quincy resumed his travel, this time proceeding directly across the center of the pool. Only to encounter a school of piranha-like fish, who it seemed had been waiting for him to get too far into it to escape their attack. But he was ready for them. He exuded thick bright yellow slime. They attacked anyway, but their teeth got caught in the taffy-like slime and became ineffective. They soon gave up, and he continued unmolested. The next starfish who came this way would have the advantage of the lesson he had taught the fish.

The far side of this pool rode into an isthmus he recognized: here was the bird-tree pool! He had found it. But what of Explora? She was not here.

He navigated it and verified that the complete setting was here, including the giant nest. That was what he wanted. But he would have to wait until dusk to implement his plan. If Explora didn't find this site by then, he would have to proceed without her. This would not be bad faith on his part, but recognition that she could have been taken out by one of the intervening hazards.

He settled down in the muck to wait, largely concealed from other predators, so he did not have to fight them off. That saved energy he was likely to need later. While he waited he pondered: did he really still love Lida? Yes he did, but acceptance of their situation was growing in him. Just as Aliena loved Brom, but valued his relationship with Star, he realized that he valued Lida's relationship with Gloaming. He wanted her to be happy and fulfilled; he could not do that for her himself, but Gloaming could. He simply had to divorce himself from the physical and sexual aspects, as Aliena had done. He could have sex with Explora.

Explora. Suppose she didn't make it? Then he relaxed. Even if she got wiped out in the race, she would remain in real life, and he could be with her, having endless fun. That appealed.

But his relationship with Aliena was more complicated. She was the one who understood him best, just as he understood her, because they were both brain transplants who loved humans. She was his most natural companion, even if she was the mistress of the ship and he was but a lowly peon. He realized that he wanted to make it in the race not just to get to breed with her, but to impress on her that he was more than a moron. To achieve a closer approach to her level.

Well, good luck with that, he thought. What chance did he have, realistically?

There was a sound. “Quincy!”

It was Explora! She had found the site and was searching for him. “Explora!” he called back joyfully, rising from his bed of muck.

“Oh, I didn't see you,” she said, coming to him. “You waited for me!”

“I feared you would not make it.”

“It was not easy. But I wanted so much to be with you, to help you, that I fought it through.”

“Not to win the race yourself?” he teased her.

“I don't think I have a chance. But you do. I want to help you make it.”

He liked her attitude, but disagreed. “We're in this together. Here is my plan. When dusk comes the big birds will return to the nest, as this kind does not hunt at night. That's what I'm waiting for.”

“Yes, they sit together and breed. It's a slow process. They must really like it.”

Evidently her interest in the subject had caused her to research that. “They are suitable hosts for us. I want to climb that tree, pacify them, and fly them to win the race.”

“Them? All you need is one.”

“And you need the other.”

“Oh!” It seemed that she truly had not thought of that.

“You provided me with a key bit of information,” he continued. “The insect repellant nature of the moss on the base of the tree. We will need that during our slow climb. The moss will also keep our hides moist, and mask our body odor so that the birds will not be aware of us.”

“Amazing! I never thought of that.”

“It is plainly intended as one of the options. That's what caused me to focus on it: why have such a setting if it was useless? When I pondered it, I realized how it worked. You need to think outside the box. That is, to see what is not immediately obvious.”

“You're so smart!”

He made a flashing laugh. “I'm a moron compared to you and any starfish. I just have different experience.”

“Not so,” she protested. “You are a creative thinker. That is not moronic, merely different. We have little use for it, but now I see that you do.”

He continued to like her attitude. “We must harvest moss now, and prepare ourselves for the climb. The bark of the tree should sustain our weight, but we shall have to be most careful.”

“Yes.” She hesitated. “There is something.”

“Something?”

“I believe a crockogator followed me. I thought it was hunting me, but it never attacked, and I thought it was wary of my spines. Suddenly now I fear it was possessed by a starfish. I may have led it to you, Quincy. I'm so sorry.”