Transvergence (64 page)

So what had definitely been lost? Nenda studied the plan of the
Gravitas
.

The suits, for a start. Unless some happened to be stowed temporarily in the bows, he would be making no space-walks. Superluminal communication equipment was gone—no chance of sending a fast message of distress. Two of the three exit locks were on the lost section. One lock was left, unless you counted the hatches in the stern of the ship as possible improvised access points. What else? Much of the ship's computer equipment. And every cubic meter of cargo space.

Whatever they might find in the Anfract or on Genizee, not much of it could go back to Sentinel Gate aboard the
Gravitas
. A Zardalu, if they managed to snag one, would have to travel in the general passenger quarters along with the rest of them.

Nenda grinned to himself as he imagined Quintus Bloom's reaction to that. Bloom and Glenna Omar were safe enough, because they were in passenger quarters, up close to the bows of the ship. But the first sight of a live Zardalu ought to wipe that sneer off Bloom's face.

Louis was no less exhausted than ten minutes ago, but he was suddenly on top of the world. They were alive! They had come through the Maw in a closer scrape than anyone in recorded history. They still had a functioning ship. The problem of working them out of the Anfract and all the way back home was the sort of challenge—Atvar H'sial had been quite right—that Louis absolutely thrived on. And just ahead, no more than a few hours travel even at subluminal speeds, the forward screen showed a bright marigold disc.

They were heading for Genizee's sun. For Zardalu. And—just maybe—for Darya Lang.

The thought processes of a Cecropian can never be mapped precisely on to those of a human. Atvar H'sial, if pressed, would have explained that thought was conditioned by language. Human language was coarse, crude, one-dimensional, and incapable of subtle overtones compared with pheromonal speech. How could a poor human possibly be expected to express or to understand the nuances and shades of implication which were so natural to even an infant Cecropian?

The problem was nowhere more acute than in conversations with Glenna Omar.

The raw facts were not in dispute. During the hiatus Louis Nenda and Glenna Omar had spent many hours together, locked away in a single chamber. They had surely occupied themselves in the bizarre human mating ritual.

But had the ritual been
successful
?

Atvar H'sial struggled with the primitive human tongue, and tried to ask her that question.
Success
in this case had nothing to do with
procreation
, the production of another generation of humans. It was rather an outcome-defined success, wherein two results had to be achieved simultaneously. First, the obsession of Louis Nenda with the human female Darya Lang had to be broken. That was unlikely to occur in a single other mating. Second, therefore, as a prerequisite of the first the willingness of Glenna Omar to continue a close interaction with Louis Nenda had to be established. The interaction must continue until that first outcome was absolutely guaranteed.

Atvar H'sial could have expressed all that, including the subtle interaction between the first and second desired outcomes, in a single, short burst of pheromones. Instead she was obliged to structure her thoughts in cumbersome human sentences—and then, no less a problem, to interpret Glenna Omar's response. Once again, Atvar H'sial mourned the loss of her slave, J'merlia.

It did not help that much of the ship's computer storage, including the on-line dictionaries and thesaurus for human speech so painstakingly developed by Atvar H'sial, had been chewed up in the Maw. What was left as backup was a mangled remnant, and she was not sure how to make use of it. To make matters worse, Glenna herself was languid, yawning, and apparently half asleep. When Atvar H'sial, laden with translation equipment, entered the boudoir, Glenna was consuming a great lump of sticky sweet confectionery. She was smiling to herself, a far-off dreamy smile of satisfaction. The passage through the Maw and the subsequent fate of the ship apparently worried her not at all.

Atvar H'sial unfurled her antennae in frustration as she sought to frame the first question.

YOU SPENT MANY HOURS IN YOUR QUARTERS WITH LOUIS NENDA, WHILE THE SHIP WAS TRAPPED IN THE HIATUS. CAN YOU DESCRIBE TO ME YOUR EXPERIENCE DURING THAT TIME?

Glenna had talked with the Cecropian a dozen times since the
Gravitas
left the region of Sentinel Gate. Repeated experience had not made Glenna feel fully comfortable. You had to face facts. Chatting about your sex life with what was, when you got right down to it, no more than a smart monster bug was never going to equate to drawing-room conversation.

"I'll talk about my
feelings
, if you like, so long as you don't want physical details. A lady has a right to privacy. You want me to describe what sort of time I had?" Glenna thought for a moment. "It was a total blast."

Not a promising beginning.
Blast
= explosion, discharge, detonation, fulmination.

WAS THERE AN EXPLOSION WHILE YOU WERE WITH LOUIS NENDA?

"
An
explosion! There were half-a-dozen of them—on both sides. I know that off-worlders are supposed to be something special, compared with the men on Sentinel Gate. But nobody ever told me to expect anyone like Louis." Glenna smiled, arched her back, and stretched tired arm and leg muscles. Her worries about privacy were disappearing. After all, the Cecropian was Louis's partner. She must already know what the man was like. A maniac. "It was awesome."

Awesome
. The word was not even given; was it the same as
awful
= dreadful, terrifying, appalling?

"He was amazing," Glenna went on. "An absolute
animal
."

Animal
= wild beast, brute, less than human, lower life form.

LOUIS NENDA WAS LIKE A WILD BEAST WITH YOU?

"He certainly was. Over and over. Want to see the tooth marks? I'd think we were all done, but then something would get him going again."

Going
= leaving, departing, exiting.

And tooth marks. That needed no dictionary. Louis Nenda had attacked Glenna Omar, and departed.

As Atvar H'sial ought to depart. But it was not the Cecropian way to give up unless there was no other alternative. She needed Glenna Omar, to immunize Nenda from the Lang female. She dug in, ready for a long effort at persuasion.

YOUR EFFORTS ON MY BEHALF, NO MATTER HOW FRUITLESS, ARE TO BE COMMENDED . . .

Louis Nenda, monitoring everything on the damaged ship, was listening to Glenna and Atvar H'sial with six different kinds of satisfaction. He could have given the Cecropian the use of a decent dictionary, but why spoil the fun? It would make no difference to the final result. Atvar H'sial was persistent. She and Glenna would sort out their misunderstanding eventually, provided they kept talking.

As for Glenna's comments . . .

It was no surprise that Louis had had the time of his life. It had left him drained and half-dead, of course, but that was the way a fantasy ought to leave you. A native Karelian like Louis Nenda might, in his dreams, meet and take to bed a woman from one of the richest worlds of the Fourth Alliance, a beautiful woman with long, supple limbs and skin so soft and creamy that you felt it would bruise at a touch. In your dream world the lady might even fake pleasure. But for her ecstasy to be
genuine
, for her to say afterwards to a third party that it had been wonderful—that went beyond fantasy. It was so improbable, it must really have happened.

Quintus Bloom's intrusion, coming when it did, made Louis want to turn around and strangle him.

"I have been monitoring the damage reports." The beaked nose came pushing over Nenda's left shoulder. Bloom was staring at the status flags. "Are we in a position to continue my mission?"

Nenda turned his head. No sign of fear or concern was visible on Bloom's face. He was plenty tough, in his own way.
My
mission, eh? They would see about that.

"We can continue." Louis nodded to the screen. "See that star? We'll soon be in orbit around Genizee."

"Excellent. Any sign of Darya Lang?"

Bloom was not so much tough, Louis decided, as protected from all outside worries by the strength of his own obsession.

"Not a hint. We beat her to it, or more likely she went someplace else."

"Either is satisfactory." Bloom considered for a moment. "The records I made during our entry to the Anfract remain intact, but I would prefer more tangible evidence to take back with us to Sentinel Gate. As one who knows this region well, do you have suggestions?"

No doubt in Bloom's mind that they would get back. Nature—and now Louis Nenda—looked after drunks, idiots, babies, and Quintus Bloom.

"Certainly." It was time to improvise. Louis had his own agenda. "The planet Genizee contained structures that could only have come from the Builders." A perfectly true statement, even if those structures had been fast disappearing when Nenda and Atvar H'sial made their hasty departure. "So a landing on Genizee might serve a double purpose. First, it will allow you to obtain the evidence you need. And second, I can take a good look at the external damage to the ship."

"Very well. Proceed." Bloom was already leaving.

"One other thing." Nenda's call halted him at the door. "Genizee is the home of the Zardalu."

"I have no interest in Zardalu."

"Maybe not." Louis throttled back his irritation. "But they'll have plenty of interest in you—and in tearing you to bits. When we land, let me deal with 'em. I can talk to them."

"Such was already my intention. I consider it part of your duties."

That, and everything else that comes to your mind
. Louis turned to monitor once more the conversation between Glenna Omar and Atvar H'sial. He cursed. Too late. The Cecropian had gone, and Glenna was relaxed on the divan, her face as unlined and innocent as a small child's.

Louis stared at the scene, and felt dizziness and a surge of intense desire. His blood sugar must be very low. He would give anything right now for one of those sticky, sugary confections sitting on the low table next to Glenna.

Nenda had left Genizee, swearing never to make another landing there. Here was the landing he would never make. The
Gravitas
came wobbling down toward the familiar sandy shore. Zardalu were emerging from the sea and the tall, sandstone towers at the water's edge, long before the ship made its touch-down.

Aware of the poor condition of the ship's equipment, Nenda worried that they would plummet the final fifty meters and squash a batch of the welcoming committee. It wouldn't help the subsequent conversation. Or maybe, knowing the Zardalu, it might help a great deal.

The
Gravitas
flopped in sideways, dropping like a wounded duck at the very edge of the beach. Zardalu slid out of the way at the last moment, and returned at once to form a crouching ring around the ship on land and in the water.

There was no point in putting off the critical moment. Nenda, with Atvar H'sial right behind him, opened the one working hatch on the side of the ship and stepped out onto the sand. He was aware of Glenna Omar and Quintus Bloom, curious and unafraid, standing behind him at the hatch. He was strangely calm himself. Maybe constant exposure to horrors was making him blasé. Unfortunately that was one very easy way to get yourself killed.

Louis beckoned to the biggest Zardalu. It lifted its monstrous body and slipped noiselessly forward like a gigantic blue ghost. Right in front of Nenda it subsided in a sprawl of thick tentacles.

"Just as we promised, we have returned." The clicks and whistles Louis used were in the master form of the old Zardalu slave language, but that hardly mattered. What counted was going to be the reply. How had things been going here, in the months since he and Atvar H'sial left?

"We have dreamed of your return."

In slave talk! Nenda waited, until the broad head bowed and a long tongue of royal purple stretched four feet along the beach. He placed his boot firmly on it for five seconds, easily long enough to satisfy the ritual requirement, and then stepped back. He resisted the urge to scuff the slime from his boot. What Bloom and Glenna Omar thought of all this nonsense was anyone's guess. They certainly didn't realize the possible danger.

"It is time for our other pledge to be fulfilled. We have proved that we are able to come and go from Genizee as we choose. Now it is time for us to prove that we are able to take you with us."

The head of midnight-blue rose and turned, to scan the waiting circle. "We are ready. We await only your permission."

Now for the tricky bit. "Not all can go at once. We will begin by taking with us a single individual, as a demonstration. After that we will organize for the departure of larger groups."

There was a long, long silence, while all Nenda's worries about growing too blasé slipped silently away.

"That will be satisfactory. If the Masters will wait for a few moments and permit a turning of the back."

"It is permitted."

The big Zardalu swiveled its body around without moving its tentacles. It made a short speech in a language that Nenda did not understand at all.

A
very
short speech. Surely those few clicks were not enough to explain what Nenda had said. But all the other Zardalu were backing away. Thirty meters. Fifty meters.

The Zardalu in front of Louis turned back to face him. "It is done. I am the chosen Zardalu, and I am ready to go at once. It will be desirable to move with speed, once we begin."

"No point in waiting." Louis turned, and was gesturing Atvar H'sial back into the hatch when the noise began. It came from everywhere in the ring of waiting Zardalu, a high-pitched buzz that rose rapidly in volume.

He took one look, and knew exactly what had happened. Zardalu never changed. The big one hadn't
explained
anything at all to the rest. It had decided who was going, and just commanded the others to stand back—giving Louis, for a bet, as the source of the order.