“True.”
“But suppose now that you are slaves, both you and Kallik; then you have no choice but to obey the orders of your masters. And those orders are quite explicit: Louis Nenda and I order you to return to the spiral arm and assist in finding the Zardalu if they are still alive. Thus in either case, slave or nonslave, you cannot remain here with us.”
“Thanks, At.” Nenda stepped forward and nodded to the Cecropian. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.” He turned to J’merlia and Kallik. “So that’s the deal. We all go back in there now. You tell Speaker-Between and the others that you’re ready to go. Right?”
Kallik and J’merlia exchanged a brief flurry of clicks and whistles.
“Yes, Mas—” Kallik caught herself before the word was fully out. “Yes, Louis Nenda. We are ready. J’merlia and I agree that we must return to the spiral arm with the others. We have no choice. We want to add only one thing. If ever you and Atvar H’sial need us, then you have to send only one word, Come, and we will hasten to your side.”
The Hymenopt touched her black round head to the floor for a fraction of a second, then stood fully upright. She and J’merlia began to walk, without permission, from the chamber.
“And we will come joyfully,” she added.
“Joyfully,” J’merlia repeated. “A human or a Cecropian may find this hard to understand — but there is no pleasure in enforced freedom.”
CHAPTER 27
All set.
But Birdie Kelly was going mad with frustration.
Everything had been ready for hours. The descending ramp to a new transportation vortex sat waiting in the next chamber, close enough for the airflow around the spinning singularity to be felt on skin and exoskeletons. Speaker-Between had assured the group that the system was prepared to receive them, with an assured safe destination. It would transfer to Midway Station, halfway between the planets of Quake and Opal; a perfect location from Birdie’s point of view, since it was the last place in the spiral arm where the Zardalu were likely to have arrived.
But now, at the very last moment, everyone seemed to be having second thoughts about going at all.
“If I had one more opportunity to reason with Speaker-Between, I feel sure I could persuade him of the unsound basis for the Builders’ plan.” That was Steven Graves, talking with Hans Rebka. Julius, unable to handle the idea of leaving Louis Nenda and Atvar H’sial to their uncertain fate, had abandoned the field to his interior mnemonic twin. Steven had been making the most of his opportunity.
“It stands to reason,” he went on, “that many races working cooperatively would have more chance of helping the Builders to solve The Problem than any species working alone. Humans and Cecropians should be engaged in a joint effort, not fighting each other to decide who will assist the Builders.”
“It stands to your reason,” Rebka countered. Like Birdie he was itching to be on his way, though for different reasons. He was still seeing nightmares in midnight blue returning to dominate the spiral arm. He wanted to follow the trail before it was too cold. “You know that the Builders have a completely different worldview from any species we have ever met. And Speaker-Between is a Builder construct. You could argue with him for a million years — he has that much time — and you’d never persuade him to abandon two hundred million years of Builder prejudice. Give up, Steven, and tackle a problem we may be able to solve. Ask yourself where the Zardalu went, and what they are doing.”
On that crucial question, Speaker-Between had been too vague for comfort. The best after-the-fact analysis showed that the Zardalu transition had been completed to an end point on a Builder artifact, probably in the old Zardalu Communion territories. It did not indicate which one, or offer any idea of what might have happened next.
Darya Lang was proving just as reluctant to leave.
“I know someone has to go back home and worry about the Zardalu.” She was examining a series of incomprehensible structures that lined the chamber, an array of fluted glass columns with turbulent green liquid running through them. “But if I leave, who is going to study things like this? I’ve spent my whole working life seeking the Builders. Now that I’ve run them down, it makes no sense to leave. Once I go I may never have an opportunity to come back.”
“Of course you will.” Louis Nenda seemed as keen as anyone to speed the others’ departure. He took her by the arm and began to lead her in the direction of the vortex ramp. Ahead of him, Atvar H’sial was shepherding J’merlia and Kallik in the same direction.
“You heard what Speaker-Between says,” Nenda continued. “The transport-system entry point on Glister won’t be closed. You can go there and return here whenever you like. And when you go to Glister next time you’ll be a lot better prepared. And you can have a good look at the wild Phages, too.”
He reached his arm around Darya and deliberately stroked her hip. “Better go, sweetie, before I change my mind about lettin’ you run off with Rebka.”
She quietly removed herself from his arm and stared down at him from her six-inch height advantage. “Louis Nenda, I swore when I first met you that if you ever laid a lecherous finger on me, I’d bat your brains out. Now you’ve done it, and I can’t bring myself to flatten you. You’ve changed, haven’t you? Since you went to Glister? You touched my hip just to annoy me.”
“Naw.” The bloodshot eyes flicked up to meet her face, then went straight back to stare at her midriff. “I didn’t do it just to annoy you. And it isn’t a change just since Glister.” His hoarse voice became even gruffer than usual, and he reached out to take her hand. “It happened before that. On Opal, when we first met.”
He seemed ready to say more, but Speaker-Between appeared again, drifting up the tunnel that led to the vortex. He seemed oblivious to the strong gravity field, and to the swirling air around his silver body.
“The time is right,” the creaky voice said. “The system is ready for planned transitions. However, the trip is much easier on individuals if they pass through singly. Who will be first?”
Everyone stared at each other, until Hans Rebka stepped forward. “I guess I will. I’m ready.”
One by one, the others formed into single file behind him. Birdie Kelly, followed by J’merlia, Kallik, and Julius Graves. Darya Lang came last of all, still staring around her at the mysterious works of the Builders. Beside the line, awkwardly, as though unsure of their own role in the others’ departure, stood Atvar H’sial and Louis Nenda.
“You may proceed.” Speaker-Between drifted to the back of the group.
“Thanks.” Rebka turned to look at the others, one by one. “I don’t think this is a time for speeches, so I’ll just say, see you there, and I know we’re lucky to be on our way home.” His eye caught Louis Nenda’s. “And I wish you were coming with us. Tell Atvar H’sial, we owe both of you our special thanks. Tell her I don’t know what you two did back on Quake, but so far as I’m concerned, what you did here, to get rid of the Zardalu, and the sacrifice you are making now, by staying, more than cancels that out. I hope I’ll see you again, back in the spiral arm.”
Nenda waved his hand dismissively. “Ah, we don’t need thanks. Me and At, we’ll manage. You go ahead, Captain. And good luck.”