A flyer will attract too much attention, so I make a spacesuit instead. The jet pack should be enough to get where I’m going.
I could probably have asked one of the Bhavashti, but again, we might be overheard. I’m going to go direct to the source. The CenGov ships may be gone, but the pilots live on – in a sense.
I don’t intend to be absorbed – I don’t have to. I just have to alternate between matter and energy at the right rate to allow my thoughts to vibrate through the Denolin’s organs of Tömösváry, much as Beat’s destructive humming did. In fact, that’s why the trick works – it fools the Denolin’s nervous system into thinking that it needs to reify in order to receive a communication.
One of the Denolin comes flying towards me. I feel a sudden churning of fear in my stomach. I remember all too well what Beat and Lorcan have suffered. But it won’t harm me. I have to remember that.
It places a tentacle gently upon my head and guides me towards the antennae.
After a moment, it retreats. A few minutes later, and another approaches in its stead. This one is flashing in the proper pattern: it wants to communicate with me. I touch its carapace.
The entity is Jdek-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*click*-M’ehmar-aFhalan-Tolgit-Bolton. It doesn’t say this to me so much as I feel the interlocking personalities inside of it. Not like emanations, not separate. More like chunks of salt slowly dissolving in a glass of water. If they had absorbed Tara, the same thing would have happened to her. But because I absorbed her, it won’t. Salt won’t dissolve in oil.
It greets me. I can feel its excitement. It came here to find the Bhavashti. It doesn’t mind having to wait months or even years for a tree to grow. It’s been waiting millions of rotations for its next evolution.
It’s been so lonely, but now there is Bolton, a delightful surprise.
Bolton wanted to harm the Holy Matriarch. Bolton didn’t understand that Jdek-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*click*-M’ehmar-aFhalan-Tolgit only wanted to offer its love, but the Denolin Turym are used to being misunderstood. The threat of death won’t stop them from trying. They are so happy to have found the Nau’gsh, because we are so alike. Soul-mates.
They are so happy that they could assist in my evolution, like I assist in theirs.
Bolton couldn’t really help his murderous intent because he was being used by the Champions of the Skylight Spin, who possessed his body. At the mention of the SongLuminants, for the first time, I experience something like rage in the thoughts of the Denolin Turym. All this time, no matter that we fought for our lives, the Denolin evidenced only persistence, only patience, even when we destroyed them. But for the SongLuminants, there is bitter hatred – a sense of revulsion.
They use beings and abandon them, as they planned to use Bolton. They did not care if he died and was lost forever. They did not love him.
There is a sense of absolute moral condemnation.
The SongLuminants are incapable of evolution because they always want to remain themselves. All those billons of rotations, and they have not changed at all.
The Denolin communicates this to me as to an equal. He communicates this to me as if we are discussing a juvenile delinquent.
I think that’s why the Eer-gaaani left the Combine, I remark.
There is such love for the Eer-gaaani, even though the Eer-gaaani caused the Denolin pain by forcing their exile. The Denolin can wait. They are patient. They are patient with the Eer-gaaani, who understand compassion.
But there’s still the issue of proof. It’s my word against a very powerful order of SongLuminants. I doubt somehow that the testimony of the Denolin will be acceptable to the Combine.
At least the Quicknodes are cleared now. We can enlist their assistance – but maybe not. They’re not very good at keeping secrets.
Before I say farewell, I try to get a sense of Bolton. He’s not unhappy. It’s definitely not the life he would have chosen for himself. But it’s beautiful out here. He’s seen wonders, and he never has to fill out another goddamn piece of paperwork.
He’s loved.
*****
I return to the station. Neliit is in the commissary, having a slice of peach pie. It’s quite good – where did the Hreck get peaches?
“Actually, they’re nectarines,” says Neliit. “There’s plenty left over after we harvest the seeds. The Denolin Turym don’t eat plant matter.”
Neliit has a sign in front of her which says “There’s yummy pie at the commissary.” “What did you find out?” she asks.
I pick up a red marker and write on the card: “The Champions of the Skylight Spin.”
“If I stand in exactly the same place tomorrow morning as I did when I came in earlier tonight, that amazing ability you have to see into the future should superimpose this new message on the pie sign.”
“Clever,” I say. “Do you have any equally clever ideas what to do about the SongLuminants?”
“If we did, we wouldn’t have walked out all those rotations ago. But understand, back then it was just us, the SongLuminants, the Denolin Turym and the ELFFs. We had no idea that the SongLuminants would be able to impose their ideals on so many species.” She looks enormously sad. “So many species destroyed out of fears that may have proved groundless. Who is there to judge the judges?”
“I’m not so much concerned with judgment as simply stopping any further attacks. I suppose if you want to discuss justice, Ross is the person to consult. It’s a concept most of us can’t really grasp. I think Cu’enashti tend to be more pragmatic than that.”
“Do you think that the Skylight Spin would be so blatant as to try again?”
“Right now, there are three Hreck laying explosives at the base of Yggdrasil. I can’t tell if that’s a serious attempt or a bluff. I can’t believe they’d think we’re that incompetent. Maybe the Champions of the Skylight Spin are trying to make a point: don’t trust anyone because we can turn them into murderous zombies.”
Neliit waves her hand in the air and one of those viewportals appears. “That’s Bisque,” she says. “Another layer is revealed. Bisque has gained in status after being named by Lorcan. She takes pride in her service to the Cu’enashti and feels a measure of independence from the SongLuminants.”
“So the Skylight Spin is aiming to show Bisque who’s boss by taking over her body.”
Neliit’s lower eyes gaze at the ground. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have pushed to include the Hreck in the Combine. We should’ve realized that the SongLuminants would resent losing their servants.”
“But this isn’t the work of the whole species.”
“No. The SongLuminants function in collectives. There’s considerable rivalry between military orders like Skylight Spin and diplomatic orders like the Southern Coriolis Directorate.”
“What do they do when they disagree with each other?”
“They can’t confront each other directly. They have to do it through puppet species. But it’s generally through political intrigue, not open violence.”
“I suppose I’d better take care of that.” It takes a moment’s concentration to transform the explosives into high-silicate sand.
“They probably took possession of her body when the spacecraft was destroyed by the Denolin,” says Neliit.
“They could hijack anyone,” I realize, “even Tara. Only you, the Quicknodes and I are safe.” Except that Tara, withdrawn inside of the pleroma, is currently safe as well. Had Self realized this when granting Tara’s request to accompany Sloane?
“It’s childish,” says Neliit.
“It would be if it weren’t so dangerous. They could force Bisque to decompress the dome.”
I can smell someone approaching the doorway. Human, which means either Rivers or Deverre.
It’s Rivers. “I have an important favor to ask.”
“Besides saving your life?”
Rivers smiles, but it isn’t Rivers’ smile. Neliit lightly touches my hand. I take her meaning – it’s a SongLuminant. I tense, anticipating that I might need to act in a split second.
But what the SongLuminant says is not at all what we expect. “Clive appreciates Ashtara’s intervention in his physiological crisis, even though he is an utter failure at polite expressions of gratitude. But I am not Clive. I am an expression of the Lords of the Inner Vent.”
“The plot supersaturates and begins to precipitate crystals,” I mutter.
“We would prefer that you not report the attempt of the Champions of the Skylight Spin upon the Matriarch’s life. It would get…messy.”
“I take it that you don’t intend to do anything about the fact that they murdered my wife,” I reply.
“She looked fine the last time I saw her. She seemed to quite enjoy her dinner. So from our perspective, no lasting harm was done. Harm could well arise, however, if a formal complaint is made. Then CSS will be forced to defend their actions, which will galvanize the other reactionary coalitions in the SongLuminant collective.”
“And what if they try it again?”
“That’s why I decided to reveal myself now. They won’t do anything with one of their own as a witness. To reassure you, we won’t relinquish Clive Rivers’ body until we’re back in our own galaxy.”
“You’re betting a lot on it – like our lives.”
Rivers /LIV sniffs haughtily. It’s actually a gesture very natural to Rivers. “You clearly don’t understand us, but why should we expect you to? What you’re describing is the phenomenon known amongst humans as ‘pushing your luck.’ The concept of luck is meaningless to SongLuminants, and so we never push it.”
“For what it’s worth, I believe him,” says Neliit. “That’s exactly the kind of backwards logic a SongLuminant would use.”
“You were absolutely right,” says Rivers /LIV, “possessing the female Hreck was amateurish, childish, and a sign of desperation. Of course, that’s the way Skylight Spin has always behaved. When we contemplated the situation, we realized that being arbiters of Combine admission has distinct advantages over being administrators of the species evaluation process. We’ll no longer have to depend on Skylight Spin for erasure. That will weaken their position and strengthen ours.”
“So what do you expect us to do?”
“Go home. Throw a party. Celebrate the heroic Bhavashti, the incorporation of Humanity, the Hreck, the Eer-gaaani, and for that matter, the Denolin Turym into the Combine. Colonize Draco. Be fruitful and multiply, live long and prosper, sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite. Just don’t make a formal complaint to the Combine.”
Reluctantly, I acquiesce. The truth is that it would be a major undertaking for Neliit and me to monitor the whereabouts of the SongLuminant now occupying Bisque. It could do all sorts of damage to the Hreck and to the station by jumping from body to body and acting before we could stop it. I was not terribly thrilled about being indebted to a SongLuminant for anything, but I didn’t have another plan.
Besides, Tara was going down to Thomas’ room, and I didn’t want to miss it. “I’m going to bed,” I tell them. “Pleasant dreams.”