Galaxy Blues (19 page)

“Are you ready?”
heshe asked no one in particular.

Ted glanced at the rest of us, making sure we were all present. “Yes, we are. Where should we go?”

“The tram will transport you to the Great Hall.”
Fah raised a hand toward the door, which opened on its own.
“Please board it at your earliest convenience. We are waiting for you.”

We walked down the corridor to the tram station, where we found a car parked at the platform, its canopy already open. As I climbed into a rear seat, I had a sudden urge to invite Rain to sit in my lap. No need for that, of course; there was plenty of room for all of us. So I shut my mouth and kept my horny little hands to myself, and instead pulled the safety bar into place.

I'd been aboard the tram enough times already that the trip should have been familiar, but on this occasion we didn't return to our ship but instead were transported deeper into
Talus qua'spah
. As the car shot through the tubes, taking one sharp turn after another, I found myself staring at the vast habitat as if seeing it for the first time. All those lights, their colors blurring together as if caught in a kaleidoscope, fascinated me as never before; I stared at them in amazement, feeling like a kid riding the best roller coaster in the universe. At one point I laughed out loud, an unself-conscious expression of childish delight that caused Rain to glance back at me in puzzlement.

The car took a long, spiraling turn, then hurtled straight toward an enormous sphere. A couple of thousand feet in diameter, lights gleamed from hundreds of windows along its sides, while dozens of tramways converged upon its equator. I was still gaping at it as the car began to decelerate; it entered a portal and glided to a halt at a station identical to the ones we'd visited before.

“Welcome to
Talus caan-saah
,”
a disembodied voice said as we disembarked from the tram.
“The door to your right leads to an airlock.”
Right on cue, the sphincter door swirled open, revealing a small anteroom.
“At this point, you will need to put on your breathing apparatus.”

The door irised shut behind us, and we took a moment to fit the air masks over the lower parts of our faces. So far as I could tell, they didn't contain their own air supply, but instead reduced the nitrogen of the ambient atmosphere while boosting the oxygen levels and removing carbon dioxide. They were obviously designed to be idiot-proof, yet even so, I struggled to adjust the elastic straps. For some reason, my fingers felt thick and clumsy, the straps frustratingly complicated; long after everyone else had theirs in place, I was still trying to get mine to fit correctly, until Ted finally stepped over to give me a hand.

“You're in a silly way tonight,” he murmured, untwisting the straps from where I'd tangled them behind my head. “What did you do, sneak off with Ash's booze?”

I didn't know how to answer that, so I simply shrugged as I suppressed the crazy giggle that wanted to rise from my throat. Ash stared at me, his expression unfathomable behind his own mask, but I couldn't have cared less what he or Ted or anyone else thought. I was having the time of my life.

Apparently someone was watching to see how we were doing, because as soon as my problem was solved, there was a prolonged hiss as the atmosphere was changed out. Another door opened, this one leading to a long corridor with another door at the opposite end.

The others were calm as they marched toward the corridor, yet for no reason at all, I became anxious. Unbidden, my mind began to concoct all sorts of horrors awaiting us beyond that door. Medieval dungeons, where we'd be stripped naked and tortured upon racks. Operating theaters filled with
hjadd
doctors waiting to dissect us alive. An underground coal mine on Hjarr where we would work as slaves until we dropped dead. Oh, sure, they'd told us that we'd be attending a reception in our honor…but what did they
really
have in mind?

My steps faltered, and I hesitated just before we reached the door. “Y'know, maybe I should go back to the ship,” I muttered. “Check on Ali, see how he's doing…”

“Jules, what the hell is wrong with you?” Ted's voice was muffled by his mask as he turned to look at me. “I swear, you've been acting weird ever since…”

“Sorry. Never mind.” I shook my head. “Just feeling kinda ethereal, that's all.”

He stared at me for another moment, as if trying to decide whether it might be a good idea to let me return to the ship. Then he sighed and turned toward the door. “Well, we're here. Let's see what…”

Then the door spiraled open, and we saw what.

VIII

More specifically:

A vast amphitheater, whose steep walls sloped upward to a domed ceiling supported by delicately curved arches, from which hung slender pennants inscribed in what seemed to be several different languages. Arranged in tiers along the walls were dozens of glassed-in cells resembling the box seats of a sports arena; within each one were small figures, none of which were even remotely human.

The amphitheater floor was nearly the size of a baseball field, with a long aisle leading straight down its center toward a raised dais. On either side of the aisle, separated from us by gilded ropes, was a multitude of extraterrestrials. Some I recognized from the images I'd seen on the screens of the docking saucer's reception area, but most were…well, alien. They regarded us with eyes slitted, multifaceted, and cyclopean, raised on stalks or recessed deep within skulls; antennae switched in our direction, and elephantine ears swiveled toward us. Fur and exoskeletons, stalklike legs and wormy tentacles, mandibles and sucker mouths, pincers and claws, pads and pods and hooves…the denizens of a score of worlds, turning as one to study the handful of strangers who'd come among them.

The cacophony of voices—chirps, clicks, burbles, grunts, hisses, and howls—that had echoed across the enormous room fell away as we made our entrance, until we found ourselves surrounded by an eerie silence. Ted was leading us; he stopped at the end of the aisle, and it was clear that he didn't have the foggiest notion what to do next. Nor did the rest of us; we looked at each other uncertainly. Should we kneel and bow? Raise our hands to show that we'd come unarmed? Try a little bit of the old soft-shoe? Nothing had prepared us for this moment.

The crowd to our left suddenly parted, allowing two familiar figures to approach us: Jas and Fah, neither one wearing environment suits but instead dressed in ornate robes. They walked down the aisle until they stopped a few feet away; then, as one, they raised their hands in the
hjadd
gesture of welcome.

“Greetings and salutations,” Jas said, hisher native tongue translated into Anglo by the device around hisher neck. “Welcome to the
Talus caan-saah
…the Great Hall of the Talus.”

“Thank you.” Ted raised his left hand; the rest of us did the same. “As captain of the Coyote Federation ship
Pride of Cucamonga
, I'm pleased to…”

Fah made a sharp, coughlike grunt that couldn't have been anything except a protest, as from all around us came a low resumption of the same voices we'd heard only moments before. Jas's fin rose slightly, and heshe stepped closer. “They cannot understand you unless you use your translator,” heshe murmured, then heshe reached to Ted's mask and gently pressed the small button. “Now you may speak.”

“Oops, sorry.” As he spoke, Ted's amplified voice boomed across the enormous room, followed an instant later by its translation into dozens of extraterrestrial tongues. This time, the audience response was louder, and there was no mistaking their amusement. The first words of a human to the collective races of the Talus:
oops, sorry.

Ted's face went as red as the patterns of his
sha
. Before he could try again, though, Morgan stepped up beside him. “Thank you, Prime Emissary Mahamatasja Jas Sa-Fhadda of the
hjadd
,” he said smoothly, raising his left hand while assaying a perfunctory bow. Once more, the Great Hall fell silent. “As leader of the first trade delegation from the human world of Coyote, Morgan Goldstein humbly accepts the invitation of the Talus, in hopes that this meeting leads to peaceful and profitable relations between its worlds and our own.”

Nice speech, albeit a bit presumptuous. Even as its translation echoed through the
caan-saah
, Ted gave Morgan a sharp look. Perhaps Morgan had come to the rescue, but Ted was obviously irritated at having been upstaged. Morgan just smirked; after all, he'd spent more time with the
hjadd
than anyone else, even Ted and Emily, and thus knew the proper protocols.

“We recognize you, Morgan Goldstein of Coyote, along with your companions.” Fah's fin had lain down flat against hisher skull; apparently heshe was no longer miffed. “The Talus welcomes your delegation and hopes as well that this first meeting will result in a long and prosperous relationship.”

From all around us, dozens of voices rose at once, as the aliens gathered within the amphitheater spoke in unison. I had no idea what they were saying, but I couldn't help but grin. Okay, everything was hunky-dory. We weren't about to be tortured or dissected or enslaved; thanks to my good and dear friend Morgan Goldstein, I was an honored guest of the Talus.

“Yippie-yo ky-yay,” I muttered. “Let's party.”

Rain was standing next to me. She quickly raised a finger to her mask, silently shushing me. I shrugged. My translator wasn't activated, and I hadn't spoken loud enough to be heard by anyone else. But again, from the corner of my eye, I caught the worrisome look on Ash's face.

Neither Jas nor Fah seemed to notice. “A place of honor has been reserved for you,” Jas said, extending a hand toward the center of the room. “If you will be so kind, we will take you there.”

“Thank you, Prime Emissary.” Ted was not about to let Morgan steal the limelight again. “As captain of the Coyote Federation ship
Pride of Cucamonga
, I accept your hospitality on behalf of my crew.”

As we followed Jas and Fah toward the dais, the swarm of voices resumed its former volume. Countless alien faces stared at us from either side of the aisle…and just beyond the ropes, something that looked like a cross between Mardi Gras and a Texas hoedown was under way. Now that they had dispensed with the necessary formalities, the members of the Talus were going back to what they'd been doing before we showed up. From various locations within the crowd, fumaroles of fragrant incense rose in the air, while shimmering white balls floated overhead, serving no purpose that I could perceive except to be pretty. A quartet of hairy arachnids pounded upon an array of drums, supplying the music to which several bipedal giraffes performed an intricate dance. A pair of blue-skinned, four-armed beings, as skinny as ballerinas but with heads like giant bananas, juggled luminescent gold batons, tossing them back and forth to each other to form complex airborne patterns. A hideous caterwaul, and I glanced around to see an enormous creature that looked like a yeti pounding its fists against its barrel chest; several white balls shot toward it, and the yeti abruptly calmed down.

“Oh, man,” Doc said quietly. “Haven't seen anything like this since my nephew's bar mitzvah.”

That made me laugh so hard, I doubled over, clutching at my stomach. Everyone stared at me, and even Jas turned hisher head upon hisher long neck. Rain grabbed my shoulders, pulled me upright. “What's gotten into you?” she whispered, her voice low and urgent.

Ted fell back a couple of steps. “Cut it out!” he hissed angrily. “This isn't the time or place!”

“I know, I know…sorry.” Yet I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. Everything was so ludicrous, so surreal, that it was nearly impossible to take any of it seriously. Fifty-four light-years from home, and what did I find? The biggest party in the galaxy, with everyone wearing the damnedest costumes I'd ever seen. I took a deep breath, shook my head in an effort to clear it. Ted gave me a warning glare, then moved back to the front of the line.

We reached the end of the aisle, where six chairs had been arranged in a semicircle facing the dais, upon which stood a large, thronelike couch proportioned to nonhuman contours. Jas and Fah took up positions on either side of us; they waited patiently while we took our seats, yet I noticed that their eyes kept swiveling toward an elevated runway leading to the throne from a door off to the right. Obviously they were expecting someone.

Yet that wasn't what got my attention. Perched on the left armrest of my chair was a
gnosh
, identical to those I'd packed aboard the
Pride
earlier that day. Whether it was supposed to be a party favor or merely a decoration, I didn't know, but nonetheless I was delighted to find it.

I wrapped my hand around its delicately curved shaft, and ecstasy flooded through me. If I'd been in a happy frame of mind before then, once I touched the
gnosh
I was positively delirious. You could have hit me over the head with a ball-peen hammer and I would've only giggled. Pure joy, unbridled and without end, was at the center of my personal universe; so swept up in pleasure as I was, it only barely occurred to me that no one else in our group was touching their own
gnoshes
.