Howling Stones (30 page)

“Where are we?” One of the other technicians had begun to moan. Within her slow precession, her posture was indicative of grave concern.

“We have to find our way back from this place, wherever it is.” Essasu used his most commanding inflections, but in that place the words seemed lost and lonely. “We have made a mistake in judgment. It is clear that we have been transported by the stones. Therefore we must make use of the stones to find our way back.”

“According to the information we received,” Piarai put in, “the human twisted the conjoined stones to activate the transport function.” He spoke with some assurance, but this was not reflected in his expression. After all, both he and Essasu knew that the human had not succeeded in returning through his own efforts, but that he had somehow been tracked down and assisted by the stone masters of Torrelau.

Nevertheless, according to the information they had acquired, exerting force on the melded stones had produced a reaction. But they had mingled many stones, Essasu knew. The human had employed only two. Might that complicate returning or recovery by anxious stone masters seeking the missing stones?

He was struck by a terrible thought. According to the report, the human had been seen taking one of the stones. No one had observed the careful AAnn at their work. Could questing stone masters track the stones by themselves, or did they have to know who had made off with
them? And if they found out, would they exert the efforts necessary for recovery? Would the number of individuals as well as the number of stones involved make recovery and return easier—or more difficult?

How long were they doomed to drift impotently before the Parramati of Mallatyah decided to come looking for their missing stones? Planning to be gone from base for only a day, the AAnn had brought little in the way of food and drink. Certainly the prospects of scavenging any life support in this place were remote.

“We cannot float like helpless bubbles while waiting for the Parramati to find us, as they did the human,” he announced. “We must try to extricate ourselves.” He found that by kicking he could swim toward the green mass. The intense inner luminescence showed no signs of dimming. “Piarai, can you reach it? Everyone, try to make contact!”

“To what end?” Vuikak was disconsolate and made no effort to hide it.

“The human was able to alter his locale by putting pressure on the ends of the affecting mass.” Reaching the stone, Essasu grabbed hold with both hands, trying to dig his fingers into its substance. Sharpened claws slid off the glassy sides, but strong hands succeeded in obtaining a firm grip. On the opposite side, Piarai did the same.

“Try to twist the ends,” he instructed his second-in-command. “Try to make them move.” Canines sliding against one another, he strained against the unyielding material.

Something gave beneath his fingers. Green sparks overwhelmed his vision.

He was standing now, no longer floating free. Piarai stood nearby, the stone mass resting on the ground between them. The earlier feeling of well-being had been
replaced by a growing lethargy. A consequence of stronger gravity, he told himself.

There was no sign of the other members of the expedition. Yaarinda, Vuikak—all gone.

He and Piarai stood on a flat, gravelly plain composed of sparkling black rock like crushed hematite. In every direction around them the horizon stretched to an unbroken infinity. There were no footprints, no vehicle tracks, no signs of civilization of any kind. Or for that matter, save for themselves, of life.

A sun seemed to be setting off to the west. Also off to the north, south, and east, twilight fading to pale in every direction. Above was a black sky devoid of cloud or any other redeeming feature, including stars. Of one thing a stunned Essasu was certain.

They were a long ways from anywhere.

What was responsible for the strange and unprecedented sunset? Were there four suns, each setting behind a different point of the compass? Or was natural law as they knew it simply foreign to this place?

It was getting cold. He did not want to be standing where they were when the light went away because he had a desperate, gut feeling it might never return. In that ultimate darkness things with senses better attuned to nothingness might arise and come seeking. The commander thanked every deity and ancestor he could think of that he was not completely alone.

“Physical contact with the mass must be necessary for transport.” Piarai turned a slow circle, inspecting a land that offered nothing to see. “The others must be … lost.”

And if we are not careful, we, too, will be lost—in our minds
, Essasu thought. Where moments ago there had been many there were now only two. The others were … elsewhere. Drifting free, screaming forlornly perhaps, two of their comrades and their green nexus gone forever.
Eventually the black coil might come for them, do unspeakable things, and put an end to it.

He stood there on the hematite plain and shuddered, waiting for the pale to dim or brighten. “We have to try again. If we do not find the others, maybe we will find our way back to Senisran.”

“Try again?” A dejected Piarai eyed the glowing green mass with little in the way of hope. “Travel from noplace to nowhere?”

“We must,” Essasu urged him. “Wherever we end up, it cannot be worse than here.”

The eyes of his second-in-command were haunted. “I wish I shared your certitude.”

Essasu walked over and shook him. “Get a hold of yourself. You are an officer of the Empire! Your only release is death. Until then, we strive on, in the name of the Emperor.”

“Yes, the Emperor,” Piarai muttered. “How I wish he were here instead of I.”

This was hardly the time or place to chide a fellow officer for sacrilege, Essasu knew. It was important not to give up hope, to keep thinking, to keep trying. He said as much.

“We have no idea how to steer this thing.” Piarai indicated the enigmatic stone agglomeration that was simultaneously their source of hope and despair. “We do not even know for certain that there exists a means of directing it.” His expression twisted, thick with sardonic humor. “We do not know the right roads.”

“We can try,” Essasu argued. “We can look.” He put his hands back on the stone and waited for his companion to do likewise.

For a long moment Piarai did nothing. Then a deep, slow, resigned hiss emerged from between his clenched teeth. “I wonder how many possible destinations our
stone here can access? One would hope that the number is finite.”

Reaching down, he grasped the other side of the mass and exerted pressure. So did Essasu. Emerald shards flew, the continuum contorted, and they went from where they were to a place where they were not.

Tomochelor and Seaforth tried to maintain the station’s daily routine: collecting and cataloging specimens of the local flora and fauna, recording variants of the Parramati language, checking automatic instrumentation to ensure that the usual meteorological reports were relayed via satellite to Ophhlia, and doing their best to win over the inhabitants of Torrelau to the idea of a formal treaty with the Commonwealth. But throughout it all, their thoughts were never very far from the sacred stones: their origin, functions, design, and above all, purpose.

They were repeatedly frustrated by the problem that Pulickel had ineffectually attempted to solve, namely, that it’s more than a little difficult to study something you haven’t got. Interestingly, his unfortunate escapade seemed not to have swayed Torrelauan opinion concerning the proposed treaty one way or the other. The proportion of those favoring an agreement and those opposed remained the same as before.

Various attempts to study the stones were stymied, albeit politely, at every turn, and neither of them could come up with a more efficacious way to proceed.

Even so, they were in better shape than the frantic handful of AAnn who were all that remained of the staff of his imperial highness’s research station on Mallatyah. Their colleagues, including base commander Essasu RRGVB,
had vanished without word or trace. Attempts to reestablish contact with the sortie party had proven worse than futile, as first sealed and then open-beam lines of communication yielded nothing in the way of a response, not even static. It was as if the entire expedition had suddenly and without warning vanished into thin air.

In point of fact that was exactly what had happened—but not into thin air. Among the skeleton staff remaining at the installation, there was very little talk of stones and much of drafting a request for evacuation. Yet this could not be done unless they could provide hard evidence that something untoward had happened to the group. Since no one was in a hurry to visit the area where the expedition had disappeared, this placed the survivors in something of a quandary.

Perhaps the commander and the others had a reason for keeping silent. If so, stumbling out to “rescue” them would constitute a grave insult, not to mention complicating the expedition’s situation. So those who had remained behind kept to themselves, maintained the base in an orderly fashion, waited anxiously for a response from those who were not responding, and hoped that someone in a position of authority would show up to tell them what to do next.

After all, it had only been a few days.

While the few surviving AAnn huddled inside their suddenly uncrowded installation and the two humans strove to maintain a semblance of a daily routine, the Parramati were not as indifferent as they seemed to the events that had taken place.

It was true, as the AAnn Essasu had once commented, that the Parramati could not communicate any faster than their boats could travel. But beneath favorable winds the highly specialized outriggers were exceptionally fast. So while the inhabitants of Mallatyah were being informed
of Pulickel Tomochelor’s actions on Torrelau, the citizens of that island were learning from their brethren on Mallatyah of the AAnn expedition’s ill-fated attempt to abscond with a much larger number of stones. Meanwhile, humans and AAnn alike remained ignorant of this quiet exchange of information.

Subsequendy, big persons from both major islands along with representatives from Tiniara, Omeuleek, Culicuanna, and more than thirty smaller islands stretching the length and breadth of the archipelago assembled in the village of Ataap. Located on a small hook-shape island situated midway between Torrelau and Mallatyah, the gathering imposed a significant burden on those serving as hosts. The Ataapans did not complain. They were honored by the presence of so many important big persons.

Ascela and Jorana were present, representing the Torrelauapa Parramati. From Mallatyah came Oresivi and the famous scholar Leuwaramau. Smaller islands sent one representative apiece, while even tinier islets that might be home to only a single village or even a few families combined to choose one delegate to speak for them. All told, some seventy big persons and their attendants crowded into the meeting house on Ataap. Some but by no means all were stone masters. It was a convocation the likes of which Parramat had not seen in some thirty years.

On that occasion the purpose of the get-together had been festive. This time an air of solemnity hung over the proceedings, as the matter they had gathered to discuss was of a far more serious nature.

This is not to say that the atmosphere within and outside the meeting house was funereal. Old acquaintances greeted one another warmly, and new friendships were forged. Between discussions there was much ceremonial
drinking and feasting, and the younger big persons participated in bounding and leaping contests. Amorous assignations were encouraged, a few were formalized, and in this way relationships between the affiliated islands of Parramat were strengthened.

When other island groupings held similar conclaves, disagreement and fighting was common, and not thought of as unusual. The Parramati had long since dispensed with such familial altercations. It made no sense to fight with a neighbor who might control a stone you would need next month, or next year, to improve your crops or heal a sick relative. Mutual interest preserved the peace.

Besides, you could share another person’s space but never steal it.

When the last of the representatives had arrived and all introductions and greetings had been exchanged, everyone assembled in Ataap’s meeting house. It was crowded, but there was just enough room for all. None could be left out or overlooked, not even the delegate from the smallest island. One might come from a large village or a single family, but everyone was equal in the amount of space they shared.

Most squatted in positions of formal rest, their flexible tails barely reaching the floor. Those along the walls were compelled to stand in order to be able to see. Standing for long periods of time was no hardship for a seni; not with their huge feet and powerful leg muscles.

Those designated as speakers waited their turn, and none spoke longer than was fitting. Everyone listened politely even to those elders whose thoughts were less focused and who had a tendency to ramble. Such individuals were viewed with fond amusement rather than dismay.

The delegates from Torrelau and Mallatyah spoke last, not because they represented the two largest and most
densely populated islands of the archipelago but because they were the ones most intimately and immediately affected by the events of the previous days. Yet what had happened concerned every Parramati, to the last shell gatherer on the farthest outlying islet.

Of most immediate concern was the apparent loss of seven stones from Mallatyah.

“Seven stones!” Old Leuwaramau turned slowly as she spoke. Her body was bent and her vision impaired, but her voice rang out youthful and strong. Her words reverberated the length of the longhouse. In the singsong language of the Parramati it sounded more like an aria than a speech.

“Can they not be traced?” called out a stone master from Yevaluu.

The renowned scholar turned toward the questioner’s voice. “Seven stones have been used. Not two, as was the case on Torrelau.” Squatting nearby, Ascela and Jorana gestured solemn accord. “The users of the seven have gone farther. Finding them and bringing them back may be impossible. It is certainly dangerous.”