Children of Hope (37 page)

The outrider quivered. Then it collapsed itself onto the copper plate.

I said, “Funny how it reads—”

A sizzle. As if galvanized, the outrider leaped off the plate, bulges and lumps forming and disappearing in its surface. It flitted up the bulkhead, dropped down, zoomed to the hatch at the far end of the corridor, skittered from bulkhead to deck to bulkhead. Wherever it touched, the alumalloy blistered.

“I don’t think it likes copp—”

“Get those plates out of here, flank!”

I bent to retrieve them.

The alien barreled down the corridor.

Too late, Father shouted a warning.

The outrider swerved at the last instant, missed me by inches. I stood frozen. It raced to the section three hatch, bounced from bulkhead to hatch to deck.

Fath gripped his laser, keyed off the safety. “Into a cabin, Randy!”

I dropped the plates and ran.

The pistol held at arm’s length, Fath backed through the cabin hatch, slapped it shut.

I huddled in the corner, weeping in my helmet.

He moaned, “Christ, oh, Christ, what have I done?” Then he shook himself, snatched up the caller. “Seafort to Bridge. We have a problem.”

“We saw.”

“Where is it now?”

“At the section five hatch, at the moment. Stay where you are. I’m sending Janks to kill it.”

“No!”

“This is my call. You’re isolated, in no position to
—
”

Fath keyed the caller. “Captain Seafort to Janks. Report.”

“Master-at-arms Janks.”

“Where are you?”

“In five, approaching the section four hatch. There are six of us. Stay out of sight so
—
”

“Belay that. The alien is at the far end of the corridor. You’re to enter four, take out the copper plates and jettison them. Aim your weapons, but don’t fire unless it comes at you. I’ll watch the holocam replay, and so help me, if any of you kill it needlessly, you’ll see court-martial.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Wait a moment.” Fath stabbed at the caller. “Chief Engineer!”

“Chief McAndrews repor
—
”

“Alumalloy plates, a dozen. Have them on Level 2 at the section six hatch in two minutes. Move!”

“But
—
aye aye, sir.”

“Janks, we’re in cabin 247. You’re to escort Randy—”

“No!” I leaped like an outrider stung by copper. “So what if I’m afraid? We’re doing this together!”

“It thinks we attacked it. You saw what it—”

“Let me be brave! You are!”

“Hah. My heart’s thudding so fast …” Fath shook his head. “I’ve got to get you out.”

“You didn’t make Mikhael run away, when he was my age!”

“What?”

“In the fight to seize
Galactic.
”

“How on earth would you know …”

“He told me.” In my cell, when we’d spoken of Dad’s last days.

Fath scowled. At length, he took up the caller. “Belay that last, Janks. Wait another minute for Chief McAndrews, and bring in his alumalloy plates.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Thank you, Fath.” I tried to sound mature, but a sniffle spoiled the effect.

The exchange of plates was made without incident. Tolliver assured us the alien had skittered far from our hatch. Cautiously, the Captain opened and peered out.

The outrider quivered at the corridor’s end.

Fath knelt, re-etched his tiny stick figure on an alumalloy plate.

The outrider remained where it was.

“Captain?”

“What, Edgar?”

“We’ve a call from the Stadholder. Would you come out before you press your luck too far?”

“I’ll get back to him. This can’t wait.”

Fath handed me the pistol, bade me retreat halfway to the section five hatch. A reassuring pat. He trudged the opposite way, to the section three hatch, where the alien waited.

I aimed with care. The target light centered full on the outrider. Surreptitiously, I dialed up the power. My gloved finger hovered over the trigger.

The outrider, at the moment, was some five feet tall. Fath walked slowly up to it, stood alongside. My breath rasped in my helmet.
Please, God. Don’t let it happen.
Not while I watch.

After a moment, Father started back toward the plates. After a few steps, he stopped, looked back.

The alien didn’t move.

Casually, Fath retraced his steps. Again, he took a few coaxing steps. This time, after waiting, he kept going. I joined him at the alumalloy plates.

The alien quivered. Then, with shocking speed, it raced at Fath. I fired, missed. It stopped just short of us. Fath snatched away my pistol. “What’s the
matter
with you?”

I said nothing. My mouth was dry.

Deliberately, Fath sat down on the old drawing. With an effort, he got to his feet, stepped on the stick face.

Time passed.

From the outrider’s trunk grew a protoplasmic, fingerless arm. Ever so delicately, the alien touched the plate, sprang back.

I held my breath.

It touched again. Apparently it decided the plate was safe, and sagged, allowing itself to puddle atop it.

We waited.

The outrider moved to the stick face. The arm formed anew. Again, for just a moment, it aimed at Fath.

Now the outrider moved to its own drawing. The arm emerged, flopped downward, touched itself elsewhere, began to reabsorb. The upper, original end of it broke off. In a moment the arm had disappeared.

“Fath!”

“I know. It pointed to itself.” Quickly, Fath etched a blob into the plate. He stood on the outrider’s original drawing of itself, and then on his latest drawing. “Simple pictographs, old fellow. Do you understand?”

The alien quivered.

Fath knelt to draw. “We need a table. I can’t keep doing this.”

Cabin utility tables were built-in, unmovable. I ran to the hatch, grabbed the caller. “Mr Janks, a table. Anything, but quickly.” In moments, I had it. Lugging furniture while wearing a vacuum suit is an awkward, sweaty, frustrating job. I managed it.

I examined Fath’s handiwork. He’d drawn something close to a fish. Small, but recognizable. A blank plate lay nearby.

The outrider tasted his drawing. No response.

Fath drew another fish, much bigger, in more detail. Inside its outline, he drew three of the blobs that we’d agreed represented outriders. Then he set the plate on the deck.

The alien tasted it. It drew itself up, quivering. Then it melted onto the blank plate. A moment later, it oozed off, reconstituted itself.

On the plate was an etching. A fish; I was sure of it. But its lines were incomplete, and material flowed from within.

Fath studied it. “A fish, but dead. Those are holes from laser fire.”

The outrider surged back onto the plate. It roiled and … well, sloshed. The plate smoked. It took the creature a long time to accomplish its goal.

When the alien rose, the plate was filled with etchings. From end to end, it was covered with fish, all spewing protoplasm. Somberly, we stared at the vision of holocaust.

Abruptly the alien surged onto the plate. Acrid smoke curled. Father leaped back.

This time, when the outrider reconstituted itself, the plate was blackened and blistered. All the drawings were gone.

We waited.

The alien sagged, collapsed into a puddle, remained so for over a minute. Then, once more, it regained its form.

Father’s mouth worked. He tried to speak, gave it up, strode to the hatch.

“Sir, what is it? Shall I call a medic?”

Fath shook his head. “The drawing of dying fish …”

“Yes?”

“He erased it.”

“And?”

“He negated it! Then, that ritual submission. Don’t you understand? He’s suing for peace!”

M
INUTES LATER, TOLLIVER AND
Mikhael were with us, in our cabin refuge. Neither had bothered with a suit. Mik knelt by his father’s side.

“I’m sure of it,” Fath said, for the fourth time.

When no adult was speaking, I tugged at his sleeve. “Sir, I don’t quite understand …” I tried again. “Why were you upset?”

“Not now, Randy.” Mik’s tone was harsh.

“Oh, I’ll tell him. I’ll shout it from the rooftops. You see …” He regarded me with grave affection. “I’ve done so many terrible things. God let me kill your father, and Alexi, even Arlene. Those poor children at Academy. So many others. And the fish. Thousands, and still they came. Remember, Edgar? Our siren song, that sent them into the Sun? And still they came.”

Not a sound, not a breath.

“And then they stopped. A few answered the lure of the caterwaul stations, and they were gone. For forty years I’ve known I murdered a race, a species. But … I didn’t. They live!” Leaning on Mikhael, he raised himself off the bed. “For five years I’ve let love rot to hate, refusing to talk to God. And now, in the winter of my life, He confounds me.”

After a time Tolliver cleared his throat. “That’s all well and good, but there’s an alien in section four wondering why you left so abruptly. He may take it personally.”

“Oh, let me have my sentiment.” Fath climbed to his feet. “And my thanksgiving.”

“A time and place …”

“Pa, Ms Frand and I got to talking …” Mik looked apologetic. “Instead of going through decon each time you talk to that beast …”

“What, son?”

“Well, it would take Jess’s help, and engineering. A transplex barrier, and some sort of servo to make the drawings … wouldn’t that work better?”

A chuckle. “Perhaps, if I had the faintest idea what you were talking about.”

“Arggh. Look, this is the corridor. A few meters on our side of the section four, here in five, hatch, we erect a see-through airtight barrier. Here, between the barrier and the hatch, a servomech runs an etcher. We open the hatch. The outrider comes through to visit. You sit on our side of the barrier and draw what you want; the servo repeats it for the outrider to, er, taste. You never touch the plate; no decon, no risk of the outrider killing you.”

“I suppose we train our roving friend to hold up its drawings for us to see?”

“Oh, come on, Pa. Another servo. Surely Jess can program a servomech to lift a plate to the holovid.”

“Hmmm.” The Captain scowled. Then, “How long?”.

“To build it? A few hours, I’d think. No more.”

Fath’s glance strayed to me. I nodded vehemently. No more humiliating decon, and I’d have a barrier between me and that god-awful
quivering.

“Mr Tamarov, you were on duty when you thought of this?”

“Yes, sir.” Mikhael looked puzzled.

“Very well, a commendation in the Log. I’ll post it tonight. Well done, Middy.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mik looked like he could walk on air.

“I admit, the decon gets to be a trial.” The Captain unbuttoned his shirt as he led us to the waiting medics.

After decon, the Captain let himself be persuaded it was all right to leave quarantine. Time and again, med analysis had found no sign of virus. And we’d already been inoculated against all known alien organisms.

In our cabin, we sat down immediately to a conference with the Chief, Tolliver, and Jess. The puter listened to Mik’s explanation—more coherent, this time—and offered a few useful, if minor modifications. Mr McAndrews promised to put every rating he could shanghai on the task, and left.

Fath stretched wearily. “Find Jerence,” he told Tolliver. “He’s a diplomat; I need his advice.”

“He’s ashore.”

“No, he came aloft with Anthony.”

“And went back groundside with him.”

“Won’t anyone ever tell me anything?” The Captain threw up his hands. “Or ask my permission?” He opened a drawer, took out a dark bottle.

Tolliver said hastily. “Now’s not a good time, Nick.”

“Nonsense. For once, we have something to celebrate.”

“No, thank you.”

Fath wrinkled his brow. After a moment, “Ah, I understand. Randy, Mr Tolliver is uneasy because I’m about to offer him a drink. You’re aware liquor is forbidden on Naval vessels?”

“Dad told me.”

“I rarely imbibe, myself. But Edgar enjoys a nightcap, now and then. He could never bring a bottle of scotch aboard; his honor, as well as regs, forbid it. But if I, the Captain, order him to drink, what choice has he, poor man?”

I watched, agape.

“You, of course, will say nothing of this, to anyone. Ever.”

“No, sir. I mean, aye aye, sir. I swear.”

He poured a glass, handed it to his friend. Tolliver, with a doubtful glance in my direction, downed it, without waiting for an order. Fath poured him another, which he sipped more slowly. I retreated to my bed, while they conversed in low tones.

At length, Tolliver bade him farewell, and left.

“You did well today,” Fath said, when he’d slipped off his shoes with a sigh. “Except when you shot at him.”

“He was coming at you!”

“I told you: only to save your own life. Now I won’t trust you again with a laser.”

“Fath …” I pouted. “That’s not fair.”

“Get used to it. I’m in charge.”

I rolled my eyes. Adults: a joey could never please them. On the other hand, if I’d splattered the alien into tiny smoking blobs, we’d never have learned it wanted peace. I suppressed a pang of guilt. If the outrider wanted peace, he shouldn’t have flown at Fath.

“For shooting at him, a dozen verses, memorized by tonight.”

“Fath!”

“Pick ones that help you learn to mind. Start with Proverbs 6:20 and 13:1. Go read them now.”

Adults.

Fath kept himself busy on the caller, while I toiled at the bloody, stupid Bible. If he thought he’d make me religious by loading me with busywork, he had another thought coming. After a time, I was careful to keep my resentment under wraps; once, when I’d let it show clearly, he cocked a warning finger at me that gave me a chill.

“What do you mean, it’s moved? Where?” Caller to ear, he paced. “Closer to our tubes? No? Good. Do we still have a shot? Very well.”

I asked, “The fish?”

“Get your work done.”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“Yes, sir.” I wrote a verse into the holovid, compared it with the original. Only a few words off, but he wouldn’t be satisfied. Not Fath. Growf.