Binary system, p.8
Binary System, page 8
“Follow me,” Mahn said, setting off up the hillside.
She caught up with the Fahran and they paused on the edge of the pit above the creature’s head. Its slavering, puckered mouth gave off an odour almost as bad as the cacchia seeds. The boulders turned out to be great dun seedpods longer than a human. The creature raised its head again, nuzzled blindly until it found more pods, then sucked. A pod vanished into the maw.
A forest of trees stood at the head of the valley; it was from them that the pods had fallen.
She looked down the length of the valley, attempting to locate where the creature ended, but it continued for as far as the eye could see.
She turned to Mahn. “What is it?”
“We call it a summer worm. It emerges from its lair deep underground as summer approaches, and swallows thousands of the gallia pods. They nourish it through the long winter.”
Delia gazed at the fissure zigzagging away across the ice plain until it was lost to sight. “And how long is the summer worm?” she asked.
“It stretches from here to the territory of the Vo,” he replied. “Some two hundred kilometres, in total.”
Delia laughed in amazement. “And,” she ventured, “this is the creature that will assist us, right?”
“The summer worms have helped the Fahran evade the Skelt for centuries,” he said.
He looked up, staring back through the forest. He pointed. “Skelt,” he said, “searching the land without their trusty wir.”
She followed his outstretched arm and made out, in the distance, the tiny figures of the Skelt, appearing only when they stopped, becoming blurs again as they moved on down the mountainside.
Mahn hurried up the hillside and concealed himself behind the piled gallia pods. Delia followed him. “The Skelt won’t take long to reach us...” she began. She glanced at the headpiece of the summer worm, apprehensively, then asked, “Just how – ?”
“We will be away from here in minutes,” Mahn assured her, and fell to work.
He grasped a gallia pod and rolled it onto its side. “If you could hold it steady,” he said.
Delia grasped the fibrous husk. Over two metres long, tapering at one end and rounded at the other, the pod resembled a huge, elongated coconut. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering when the summer worm would next reach for a pod. She had no desire to be close by when the slobbering mouth sought its next meal.
Mahn worked quickly. He found the seam of the pod and pulled it apart with his bare hands, splitting it along its length for a metre to reveal a sweet-smelling, mushy pink interior. As she watched, he reached into the pod and rapidly baled out the mush until the sickly sweet flesh was piled at their feet. Within minutes he had excavated a long cavity, and Delia’s stomach turned at the sight of it.
“And now?” she asked, fearing the answer.
“Now we ease the pod to the edge of the pit, so that it will be the next one taken by the summer worm.”
“Very well. And then?”
“And then we climb into the pod, draw the edges of the seam together, and wait until the summer worm obligingly saves us from the Skelt.”
“I thought you might say that,” she said. “But...”
“We will pass through the gut of the summer worm in a matter of two or three days,” he said. “When we emerge, we will be in Vo territory.”
“Wonderful,” she said. “And we won’t be digested and eaten away by its stomach acid?”
“The worm’s digestive system will detect that the seed pod carries a foreign body, and will evacuate it whole in case it harbours poison.”
“Ingenious.”
Imp, this is insane. How will I breathe?
If the Fahran survive concealment and ingestion, then I surmise that it will be safe for humans. I will monitor your bodily functions, and if needs be ease you into a hibernative state.
She looked up. A platoon of Skelt blurred down the valley, heading ever closer. “It seems I have little alternative,” she murmured.
Mahn was dragging the gallia pod towards the edge of the pit.
“How long might we have to wait?” she asked.
“The summer worm takes a pod every few minutes or so, and it took the last one more than five minutes ago.”
They positioned the seed pod on the lip of the fissure, metres above the slavering maw of the summer worm.
Mahn glanced across the valley. “The Skelt approach. Do as I do, Delia, and do not be afraid.”
The Fahran stepped over the side of the pod, as if casually boarding a canoe, and lay down, resembling an alien child in some bizarre biological coffin.
“Come.”
She lifted a leg, eased herself into the sweet-smelling interior of the hollowed-out gallia pod, and lay down beside the Fahran. To her surprise, the flesh enclosed her like a comfortable, if moist, transition pod.
“And the Skelt do not know of this?”
“We are safe from the Skelt,” he said, reaching up and drawing the seam of the pod shut; the edges came together over her head, sealing with an adhesive squelch, and she lay pressed against the alien in absolute darkness.
Chapter Thirteen
INVOLUNTARILY, DELIA FOUND herself reaching for Mahn’s hand. She found it and squeezed.
“The gesture?” Mahn’s question was muffled in the confines.
“One of friendship, affection,” she said, “and trust.”
His fingers squeezed hers in return.
“You say the Fahran use the pods to escape the Skelt...?” she said.
“And to travel long distances as summer approaches.”
“And you? Have you used a pod before?”
“Never. This is the first time.”
“And you’re not... apprehensive?”
“Not in the slightest. My hive-sisters tell stories of their travels by gallia pod, and their dreams as they went.”
“Dreams?”
“We will enter a deep sleep during the journey, and the atmosphere within the pod will affect our senses, and we will dream. My people believe that when in a gallia pod, we dream of the future, and our destiny.”
“This should be... interesting,” she said.
“Do not be afraid, Delia. Give yourself to the experience. In two or three days we will emerge.”
“In the territory of the Vo?”
“As I said to you earlier, the Vo can be negotiated with. Not all their tribes are warlike. Many are peaceable, and consider themselves allies of the Fahran against the Skelt.”
“And others?”
“It is true that some tribes are difficult to deal with.”
“And where we will emerge? Is that territory held by friendly Vo, or not?”
“That is impossible to say. Ownership of the land changes hands all the time, as their tribes skirmish back and forth across the ice plains.”
She was about to ask what they might do if they emerged in territory held by hostile Vo, when the seed pod tipped. She imagined the drooling mouthpiece of the summer worm sucking the seed into its maw.
The pod rolled; one moment she was on top of Mahn, and the next he was pressing down on her. She was wondering when the incessant tumbling might end when the pod suddenly settled. She eased herself into a more comfortable position beside the alien, arranged her arms and settled her head against a pad of flesh.
Would you like me to sedate you, Delia? Imp asked.
Not yet. Maybe later.
The movement of the pod now reminded her of the sedate progress of a punt floating downriver. She had once holidayed in Cambridge, and taken a punt along the Cam. In her mind’s eye she recalled the dappled sunlight, the passing fronds of weeping willows.
“Mahn,” she said a little later.
“Yes?”
“Why did you rescue me from the Skelt?”
“As I told you before, for many years I had dreamed of escape, but lacked the courage. That was one reason.”
“And another was that you did not want my knowledge of the life-raft’s technology falling into the hands of the Skelt?”
“That, too, yes,” he admitted. “And also, I wanted to do something to spite the Skelt. For years they had kept me imprisoned, acting as a translator and a liaison between their leaders and other Fahran captives. For years they have enslaved and tortured my kind. I could do nothing to oppose the Skelt, until you arrived on Valinda.”
He was silent for a time, then said, “Those were the reasons, but it is true that also I was sorry for you. You were a prisoner of the Skelt – I could empathise with that. You were far from home, amongst strange and cruel beings. I could empathise with that, too.”
“Thank you, Mahn.”
“You were helpless, defenceless, and at the mercy of the Skelt. I had no doubt that they would kill you when they had learned from you what they wished. As it happened, the military members of the Council voted to kill you before that, so it was imperative that I assisted your escape.”
“And if the Skelt captured us, they would put you to death instantly.”
After a silence, he said, “Yes.”
“So, whatever the reasons for saving me, you acted selflessly. You could have done the safe thing and done nothing, and continued serving the Skelt.”
“And how would I have looked upon my soul, then? I would have been... tarnished, corrupt. My life would have been diminished.”
“You’re a good person, Mahn.”
“I simply did what a million other Fahran would have done in my position.”
She allowed the silence to lengthen. She was light years from Earth, fleeing murderous locusts, encased in a seed pod in the alimentary system of a giant worm, heading towards the equator of the planet with a small furry alien on a religious pilgrimage...
A little later, Mahn said, “You are... a strange being, Delia.”
“Strange?”
“You told the Skelt that you came from the stars, vast distances.”
“That’s right.”
“Like our God; he too came from the stars.”
“I’m no god, Mahn. Just a very lost human being.”
“And yet,” Mahn said, “you have many strange powers.”
“I have?”
“Back there, you issued your soul for the Skelt to fire upon. You sacrificed your soul, to save us.”
She tried not to laugh. “It was not my soul, Mahn. I sacrificed nothing.”
“Then what was it, if not your soul?”
“As I demonstrated back in the pit, I have the ability to project pictures –”
“You are a magician!”
“No, it’s technology, Mahn.”
“And your ability to comprehend, and speak, my language. I do not understand: you speak in what I take is your own tongue, and then I hear your words in my language.”
“As I mentioned earlier, I have a tiny machine in my head. An implant, the same which projected the image of both your world, and what you thought of as my ‘soul.’ I call it Imp. It’s this that enables me to understand and speak your tongue. It translates for me. It’s a tiny computer – a machine that thinks.”
“A machine, in your head? What else is this machine, this Imp, able to do?”
She thought about that. “It speaks to me, advises me. It has access to vast reference libraries, great sums of knowledge. It’s... I suppose it’s also like a friend.”
Mahn said softly, “I am glad you have a friend, Delia.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Mahn.”
SHE SLUMBERED, THEN awoke suddenly as the pod jolted. She wondered if she had slept for two days and arrived at journey’s end.
“What was that? How long have I been – ?”
She felt Mahn’s moist breath on her cheek as he said, “I think the pod might have collided with another. It is nothing to worry about. You have slept for perhaps two or three hours only.”
“You’ve been awake all that time?”
“I have been considering my life, my fortune in meeting you, and the pilgrimage ahead.”
“And when you have completed the pilgrimage? What then?”
“I will go back to teaching. I will find a quiet post well away from the Skelt, and teach hivelings for the rest of my days.”
“That is a noble thing to do, Mahn.”
“And I will tell my pupils of the time I rescued an alien from the hands of the Skelt, and how we fled across the face of Valinda with angry militia in pursuit.”
“Do you think they’ll believe you?”
“Perhaps not! Perhaps I should write of my adventures. And then other teachers will take my scroll and tell of my exploits to pupils all across Valinda.” He paused. “And you? When the pilgrimage is over, what will you do?”
She thought for a time. “Do you know... I’ve looked no further ahead than the pilgrimage? I will accompany you, and take in the wonder of your planet, your people and their culture, their religion...”
“Delia, there will always be a place in my home for you.”
She swallowed, emotion constricting her throat. She realised that she was still gripping the alien’s hand, and squeezed. “Thank you. That means a lot to me, you know? It truly does.”
“It must be so difficult, Delia... To be alone, on a strange world, without another of your kind.”
“And with no prospect of ever returning to my planet,” she murmured.
“No prospect at all? Perhaps, one day, if you could retrieve your life-raft and take off?”
She smiled to herself. “That would be impossible. Even if I could somehow retrieve the vessel, it would be useless. It was an escape craft only – it would be unable to achieve the power required to leave Valinda’s gravity well. And even if it did...” She stopped, despair overcoming her. “Even if it did, it is so far from here to Earth that the life-raft would be unable to cover the distance.”
“I am sorry.”
“So... I must make the most of life on Valinda, and come to love my new home, and its people... or rather some of its people.”
She stopped, choking back a sob.
I think I should sedate you, Delia.
No! No, it’s all right... I’m okay. I’d rather remain awake, talking...
She recalled wondering something about Mahn earlier, and now she asked, “Mahn, do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
“Not at all, I am ten summers old.”
One hundred Terran years old... She smiled to herself. She had thought of Mahn as being a young man, barely out of his teens.
“And is that old, by Fahran reckoning?”
“Not old, no, but not young. I am perhaps halfway through my life. On average, we Fahran live to an age of twenty summers.”
Two hundred years... she thought.
“And you?” he asked. “How old are you, Delia?”
She told him that she was a little over three summers old, and felt him move as if in surprise beside her. “Three summers? But you are a child!”
She laughed. “Not by human reckoning, Mahn. We attain adulthood, on Earth, at the age of roughly one and a half summers. At that age, usually, we leave home and embark on careers.”
“At that age,” Mahn said, “we Fahran are still hivelings. We do not venture from the protection of our hive, and say goodbye to our hive-mother, until we are at least three summers old, sometimes four.”
“I saw my first alien world, Delta Pavonis V, just half a summer ago, by your reckoning. Five Terran years. Since then I’ve seen five other colony worlds. ”
“And what was it like, the first one?”
“It was very much like Earth, but much bigger. Vast. We had terraformed it, made it like Earth, green and rolling with great inland lakes. It was very beautiful. Perhaps all the more so as it was the first extra-solar planet I’d ever experienced.”
“And the aliens of that world? What were they like?”
She shook her head, then realised the futility of the gesture. Even if Mahn had been able to see her, the movement would have conveyed nothing. She said, “There were no aliens on Delta Pavonis V – nor on any other world so far discovered by humankind. Oh, we’ve found plant life and animal life, but never sentient extraterrestrials. Until now.”
She sensed his movement again. “Do you mean, Valinda is the first planet where you have found intelligent life?”
“That’s right, and what’s even more amazing is that on Valinda is not just one sentient species, but three. Until now, we wondered if we might be the only sentient species in the universe.”
“Whereas we Fahran, who do not posses the means of travelling between the stars – who have not even left our planet – we knew that life existed elsewhere.”
“Thanks to the Skelt...”
“When they came, with their stories of the conquest of other stars, other peoples, we knew we were not alone.”
“So there are yet other intelligent races out there, suffering under the yolk of Skelt domination? That’s an appalling thought.”
“And then, long after the Skelt arrived, so our God, Chalto, came to Valinda. He gave us hope.”
“In what way?”
“He told us that one day he would lead a revolt against the Skelt, and that we would defeat our oppressors.”
She smiled to herself.
“That would be wonderful,” she said.
“And...” Mahn said, “perhaps that is why you are here, on Valinda. Perhaps our God brought you here, especially, to bring about the end of Skelt dominion. Perhaps that, unbeknownst to you, is your destiny?”
“Well... if it is, then I don’t know quite how I’ll bring that about.”
“Perhaps, Delia, you will be guided by our God. Perhaps in time he will show you the way.”
She smiled. “Perhaps,” she said. “Mmm...”
“Delia?”
“I’m feeling... feeling very peaceful, very sleepy. As if... as if I’m being anaesthetised, as if I’m about to... to undergo an operation...” She recalled having her tonsils removed when she was ten, and the wonderfully soporific sensation of drifting into unconsciousness.
