Howling Stones (2 page)

With Senisran boasting a planetwide insufficiency of flat, dry land, the shuttle set down on unsinkable pontoons, momentarily disappearing within a traveling fountain
of its own making. As the craft slowed, Pulickel considered how best to acquire an assortment of the remarkable native handicrafts for which the seni were rapidly becoming known. He’d promised at least a dozen colleagues back home a representative sample each. Original art was one commodity that technology had yet to supplant and was therefore an item highly amenable to interstellar trade.

It being an ancient truism that commerce treads hard on the heels of exploration, many of the great Commonwealth trading houses already had representatives at work on Senisran. Dozens of others pressed the appropriate government departments for access credentials, eager to trade with the locals for their exquisite wood, shell, and bone carvings, necklaces, and sculpture. It seemed as if every island group had its own distinctive style, each more striking and beautiful than the next. The acquisitive AAnn were no less enthusiastic. Such trade was carefully regulated, lest the seni procure technology too advanced for their society to absorb.

In addition to an astonishing range of handicrafts, Senisran also offered an expanding selection of unique comestibles. The well-off of Earth, New Riviera, and other sophisticated worlds were and had always been willing to pay outrageous prices for new tastes, new sensations. Any dozen half-competent companies could introduce new electronic gadgets onto the market, but a new fruit or vegetable was infinitely more valuable.

It was endlessly frustrating to the backlog of commercial interests to have to wait for official contact to be established with each island or island group, but it was the responsibility of Commonwealth authority to see to it that trade and interchange proceeded smoothly and without acrimony. Commerce was not allowed to proceed until a point scout had established formal relations with the
group of natives in question. First-person first-contact was a delicate and sensitive undertaking that called for highly trained individuals with plenty of experience.

Individuals like Pulickel Tomochelor.

He was a specialist’s specialist, whose talents were in demand throughout the frontier. As there was only one of him, his time had to be rationed. He had devoted his career to unraveling seemingly insoluble conundrums. As a consequence of his success, it was going on ten years since he’d been given anything resembling an easy assignment. He didn’t mind. It made his personal sense of satisfaction all the greater.

He smiled to himself as the shuttle turned to port and entered the harbor at Ophhlia, the principal Humanx base on Senisran. In exchange for its use, the increasingly sophisticated locals received a hefty monthly fee. A ridge of high mountains ran from east to west along the midline of the sizable island, protecting the harbor and its thriving facilities from the daily cloudbursts that blew up out of the south.

Personally, Pulickel always sympathized with the confusion that was common to undecided native groups, who were by far in the majority. Beset by endless requests and frequently contradictory promises from two different sides and species, whom were they to believe: human or AAnn? From the native viewpoint, who held the real power and offered the most benefits? With whom should they ally themselves? In such critical negotiations, the skill of each side’s on-site negotiator was paramount.

Where Pulickel shone was in his ability to understand alien cultures and an alien point of view. He might never reach the exalted rank of Counselor, but in another ten years or so he could see himself in charge of the entire xenology department, passing judgment on the reports of others and handing out assignments from a spacious office
high atop the Science Tower in Denpasar. Solving the problem for which he’d been sent to Senisran would serve to carry him a few steps farther toward that goal.

The distant whistle from the shuttle’s engines faded as it coasted to a stop inside the enclosed, climate-controlled landing dock. Though they were now in a sealed environment, the climate processors could only mute the heat and humidity, not eliminate them entirely. Suitable comments were exchanged among the passengers as they disembarked. Pulickel kept silent, measuring the conditions against what he’d been led to expect.

Through the transparent tube that encased the walkway, disembarking passengers could see the shuttle floating behind them on brilliantly clear water. Beyond the polarized, diffusing material, tropical sunlight illuminated the jumble of low-rise buildings that comprised orderly Ophhlia. It flashed green off the mountaintops beyond. Even within the disembarkation lounge, the pervading smell was of damp green growing things: the musk of fresh soil. Inside, the treated, mechanically massaged atmosphere was cool but heavy.

He gave a mental shrug. He’d spent time on more than a dozen alien worlds, some hotter, some colder, a few where the atmosphere would kill anyone who tried to breathe it. Compared to the average, the air of Senisran felt like home. After the long journey out from Earth, he was eager to leave the shallow trappings of imported civilization behind and get out into the field. He looked forward to it much as another man might look forward to a date.

“Tomochelor?” A rough-looking, stocky, heavily bearded individual broke from the small crowd to block Pulickel’s path. He wore a duty uniform of green shorts, shirt, and sandals. Insignia decorated his sleeves and
shoulders. “Eric Train. On behalf of the department, welcome to Senisran.” He extended a hand and flagged Pulickel’s up and down. “No hand luggage?”

“No. I just have the one case.”

“That’ll be waiting for you in the baggage area.” He turned and Pulickel fell in step alongside him. “I’ve seen your schedule. You have a couple of days here in town before you have to head out to the site. I’d be glad to show you around.”

“I’d enjoy that.” Actually, Pulickel wasn’t sure that he would, but he’d learned early on in his career that when traveling, no amount of research, no matter how thorough, could substitute for the knowledge of someone local. While Train was exposing him to the few simple pleasures Ophhlia had to offer, Pulickel would patiently pump him for more practical information.

“How was your flight?”

“Like any KK-drive journey. Pleasant enough. Quiet and busy. I had plenty of time to study and to work with the language synapse. It’s a long way from Earth.” They left the busy main atrium and turned down a side corridor. “I must say that based on everything I’ve read I don’t quite see why my presence is so actively required.”

Train put a comradely arm around the other man’s shoulders, a gesture that Pulickel disliked but had grown used to. “Let’s just say that Parramat’s a special problem that needs a specialist’s attention.” The newly arrived xenologist knew as much but politely allowed Train the pleasure of explication.

The terminal was busier than Pulickel expected. Though Senisran was a far-off, recently discovered world, Ophhlia was a busy place. Things were happening here.

“After the initial contacts,” Train was saying, “the xenology department was able to put together a few basic contact templates. With minor variations for individual
island groupings these have worked pretty well—until Parramat.”

“So all the reports say.” Pulickel commented only to show that he was paying attention.

“But these Parramati, they’re different.” Train was shaking his head dolefully. “Not physically, of course. As far as appearance, physical ability, and intelligence, they’re no different from any of the other seni. By the way, except for the overtly warlike tribes, the natives are nice folks—for semihumanoid aboriginal aliens. And even the most aggressive tribes are usually ready to sit down and have a chat or share a meal before they paddle off to bash somebody else’s heads in.

“Generally speaking, we’re getting along well with them. Staying a few jumps ahead of the AAnn. You know the lizards: they tend to be kind of impatient, whereas the seni are a species that likes to take its time. It reflects the nature of their environment. That’s not to say that if we weren’t here that every one of them wouldn’t readily align themselves with the AAnn.”

Pulickel nodded. The AAnn were always in a hurry, expecting a yes-or-no answer to a question the first time it was asked. Establishing formal relations with new species often required a good deal more patience. This the AAnn had learned, but their natural instincts still had a tendency to frustrate their own efforts in that area. As a result, the Commonwealth had forged ahead in its efforts to secure alliances with Senisran’s scattered and highly individualistic tribes. Struggling to catch up, the Empire had poured considerable resources into its local efforts. In territories where the locals remained uncommitted, such as the Parramat Archipelago, they were just as active as the representatives of the Commonwealth.

The Parramati had shown themselves to be wary of the
offers from both sides, as was to be expected. Like primitive sentients anywhere, they didn’t want to make the mistake of allying themselves with a weaker party. So they listened patiently to the presentations of both visitors, human and AAnn alike, and asked questions, and debated among themselves, and put off making any kind of final decision. Pulickel was being brought in to hurry things along.

“You know, of course, why we’re making a greater effort than usual to bring the Parramati quickly into the Commonwealth fold.” Train preceded Pulickel through a security door.

The slight newcomer nodded. The efforts to which his host was referring had less to do with the welfare of the inhabitants of the Parramat Archipelago than with what lay beneath their several dozen islands. Specifically, an unknown number of rare earth deposits of exceptional commercial value, from niobium and yttrium to obscure minerals with names even Pulickel couldn’t pronounce.

Train was patting him on the shoulder. “You know, I envy you, going out to Parramat. Resolve this one and you’ll really make a name for yourself.”

“I have a name,” Pulickel replied quietly. He wanted to shrug the other man’s arm off his shoulders but restrained himself. False conviviality always made him queasy. He hated attending parties, even parties of two.

Instead of being offended by his guest’s rejoinder, Train’s grin expanded. “All right, so this’ll help you enhance it. Obviously, I don’t have to tell you how important the assignment is.” He lowered his voice and his bushy eyebrows did acrobatics. “There’s also the matter of your local support, someone who’s already on site. I could tell you how many local xenologists clamored for this duty just because of that, but I don’t want to intimidate you when you’ve just arrived.” He chuckled. “Last
poor schmuck I had to send out on contact duty ended up with an old thranx for company. That’d be okay for a few months, but for a year …” He let the implication trail away, then added, “Your position will be … different.”

Pulickel made himself smile at his host. “Do not worry about me. I don’t intimidate easily. What’s the problem? Is the support individual in question particularly disagreeable?”

Train gave him a funny look. “You’ll see.”

“I find I’m able to get along with just about any personality type. It’s a necessary skill when one is working for long periods of time in comparative isolation. I’m sure this individual and I will come to an accommodation. Could we pick up my case now, please? I’m anxious to see if everything’s arrived in one piece.”

Train was still grinning. “It should be waiting for us at Transport.”

Pulickel debated whether to press his guide for additional details about his field support but decided he’d find out soon enough. As he’d told Train, he wasn’t concerned. Young, old, male, female, thranx, or human, he’d worked with them all, often under far more difficult conditions. It came naturally to him. He was such a nonthreatening personality that even initially hostile colleagues ended up adopting a protective attitude toward their new colleague. While he wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs, it was hard to pick a fight with someone who always attended strictly to business. The result was a mutually productive working environment, which was what the xenologist always strove for no matter where he was assigned.

Train’s underlying urgency was no surprise. Pulickel had read the relevant reports, every one of them. Commonwealth commercial interests wanted the vacillating situation on Parramat resolved so they could move in and exploit the exceptional ore deposits that lay beneath the
archipelago as soon as possible—in an environmentally and socially sensitive manner, of course. It was emphasized that the Commonwealth and not the AAnn should be the ones to do this.

Though he thoroughly understood the situation, Pulickel had no intention of hurrying his work. He would take his time and do his job properly. Not that he expected it to prove especially troublesome. A couple of months at most, he’d decided when he’d finished the last of the field reports. A couple of months and the commercial interests in Ophhlia would have their treaty of agreement and he would be on his way back to Earth, awash in accolades and official commendations. It had always been thus. Mentally he was already readying himself for his next assignment.

Meanwhile he expected as well as hoped to enjoy his stay on Senisran. New worlds and new alien cultures were endlessly fascinating. While certain patterns held true across the cosmos, every sentient species was different and presented its own unique problems to those charged with establishing formal contact. It would be interesting not only to meet the Parramati but to see how their culture differed from that of their fellow seni. Certainly he would acquire enough material for one or two formal papers, which when published would only add to his growing reputation.

The compact transport vehicle was waiting just outside the terminal, and his travel case, intact and unbreached, had been stowed securely in the rear storage compartment. Using a remote key, Train opened the single door and followed him inside. Cool, dehumidified air blew from several vents.

“I’m looking forward to showing you around.” Train nudged his guest in the ribs. “Ophhlia ain’t fancy, but
with all the money that’s pouring in here we’ve managed a few amusements.”