GALAXY BLUES:

PART THREE OF FOUR:

THE FOOL’S ERRAND

by Allen M. Steele

 

Allen M. Steele tells us, “I’m pleased to say that my undergraduate alma mater, New England College in Henniker, New Hampshire, is giving me its annual Alumni Achievement Award on the occasion of my twenty-fifth class reunion.” In addition, Subterranean Press recently published a beautiful, limited, signed, hardcover edition of his Coyote novella, “The River Horses” (Asimov’s, October/November 2006). Allen’s character Jules makes some ill-advised decisions in the well-named third act of...

 

* * * *

 

Synopsis of Part One:

 

My name is Jules Truffaut, and this is the story of how I redeemed the human race.

 

It all began when I stowed away aboard the starship Robert E. Lee for its monthly voyage to Coyote, humankind’s first interstellar colony. Technically speaking, I was a first-class passenger, having already booked passage to 47 Ursae Majoris. However, as a former ensign in the Union Astronautica of the Western Hemisphere—whose relationship with Coyote is strained at best—it was necessary for me to sneak aboard the ship just before it departed from Earth.

 

My plan was to travel to Coyote under an assumed identity; once there, I would plead for political asylum. But my scheme backfired when a steward who’d found me became suspicious. Checking the manifest, she discovered that, although I had indeed purchased a ticket, there was no record of me actually boarding the ship. So shortly after the Lee jumped through Earth’s starbridge to 47 Ursae Majoris, the chief petty officer placed me under arrest.

 

On the bridge, I met the Lee’s commanding officer, Anastasia Tereshkova. Realizing that I was in serious trouble, I revealed my true identity and informed her that I was seeking amnesty. However, I’d overlooked the fact that one has to actually set foot on foreign soil in order to defect. Since the Lee was still in space, Tereshkova was obliged to take me back to Earth and turn me over to the authorities.

 

So I took matters into my own hands. On my way to the brig, I escaped from my captors and stole one of the ship’s lifeboats. I was trained as a pilot, so I was able to guide the craft to a safe touchdown on Coyote. However, almost as soon as I landed, I was apprehended by the colonial militia.

 

The soldiers brought me to Liberty, Coyote’s largest colony, where I was thrown in jail. I had little doubt that the local magistrates would order my deportation. Before that happened, though, I had two visitors. The first was a mysterious figure who appeared at my cell window. As he stared at me, a door opened in my mind, releasing all my memories. I fell unconscious; when I awoke, the stranger had disappeared.

 

The second was Morgan Goldstein, the billionaire founder of Janus, Ltd., an interstellar shipping company. Impressed by the way I’d escaped from the Lee, he offered a way out of my predicament. Goldstein was recruiting a crew for an expedition to Rho Coronae Borealis, with the intent of opening trade with its inhabitants, the alien hjadd. If I signed on as shuttle pilot, he would make sure that I wasn’t deported. Having little choice, I agreed to work for him.

 

After arranging for my release, Goldstein took me to a tavern where I met the rest of the crew: the captain, Ted Harker, and his wife and first officer, Emily Collins, both of whom were on the first ship to contact the hjadd; the helmsman, Ali Youssef; and the cargo master, a lovely young woman by the name of Rain Thompson, who was oddly cold toward me. And finally, another passenger besides Goldstein himself: Gordon Ash, whom I recognized as the stranger who’d visited me in jail.

 

Our ship, the Pride of Cucamonga, hadn’t arrived from Earth yet, so we cooled our heels in Liberty for a few days. That gave me time to get interested in Rain. She didn’t want anything to do with me, though, and it wasn’t until I had breakfast with her that I found out what it was. Somehow, she had learned the reason why I’d been thrown out of the Union Astronautica—I was caught helping my younger brother Jim cheat on his academy exams—and, believing that I’d betrayed him, thought I couldn’t be trusted. I was telling her my side of the story when Ted showed up. Our ship had come in, and it was time for us to leave.

 

When we arrived at the spaceport to board our shuttle, the Loose Lucy, a couple of surprises awaited us. The first was our cargo: two and a half tons of marijuana, which the hjadd apparently regarded as a delicacy. The second was that we had another passenger: Mahamatasja Jas Sa-Fhadda—Jas for short, the hjadd Prime Emissary. When I committed a faux pas during my introduction to himher, Ash stepped in to quietly correct me. Clearly there was more to him than met the eye.

 

The Pride of Cucamonga turned out to be an old freighter, but its chief engineer, Doc Schachner, assured me that it was fit to fly. While loading the cargo, Rain and I had an argument which nearly cost me my job; to give me a chance to cool off, Ted had me take a jug of corn liquor to Ash’s quarters. I’d already figured out that Ash was an alcoholic, but while visiting him, I discovered something else: he was capable of reading people’s minds.

 

The next day, the Pride launched from Coyote orbit. While en route to the starbridge—which could only be opened to Rho Coronae Borealis by a coded key Jas carried—the Prime Emissary invited Rain and me to his quarters.While waiting for himher to let us in, Rain offered an apology for her rude behavior, which I accepted. But she wasn’t the only person to surprise me: once we were alone with Jas, heshe asked what we knew about something called the Order of the Eye. I professed ignorance, but after we left hisher cabin, Rain informed me that the Order was a secret cult of telepaths rumored to be funded by Goldstein. This explained why Morgan had invited Ash along: he wanted someone who might be able to tell him what Jas was thinking.

 

Then Pride made the jump to Hjarr, where we rendezvoused with an enormous space colony, the Talus qua’spah, in orbit above the planet. As circumstances would have it, Rain and I were the first persons to leave the ship. Upon entering what appeared to be an interspecies reception area, we were informed that the two of us needed to undergo decontamination. Fair enough ... but first, we’d have to comply with a rather embarrassing request.

 

* * * *

 

ELEVEN

 

* * * *

 

The etiquette of decontamination ... a visit to the library ... Fah, otherwise known as Haha ... Ash gets strange(r).

 

* * * *

 

I

 

Rain’s scream was still reverberating from the walls when a hjadd materialized.

 

Heshe appeared so suddenly, my first thought was that heshe was some sort of extraterrestrial djinn, fresh from the lamp and ready to grant me three wishes (the first of which would’ve been to be any place but here). It took a moment for me to realize that heshe was a hologram, albeit so lifelike that I could’ve sworn heshe was solid. Heshe regarded us with reptilian solemnity, hisher fin raised to full height from the back of hisher head.

 

“Pardon me,” heshe said, hisher voice nearly the same as Jas’s, “but what does the expression ‘hell, no’ mean? “

 

I forced a cough to keep from cracking up. “It ... uh, means that she’s ... ah...”

 

“It means there’s no way I’m getting naked.” Rain’s face was livid. “Not here, not now, and especially not with—” she pointed at me “—him.”

 

The hjadd’s left eye twitched toward her. “Decontamination is required for all races visiting Talus qua’spah. I assure you that it is painless and non-invasive, and will only take a few minutes to perform. However, it is necessary for one to be bare of all accoutrements in order for the procedure to be completely effective.”

 

Rain opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “I understand that, sure. But in our culture, nudity is considered ... um, taboo.” The hjadd’shead cocked slightly at this unfamiliar word. “Socially unacceptable,” I added. “Particularly between sexes ... genders, that is.”

 

“Meaning, I’m not about to...” Rain glared at me, and shook her head. “No. Out of the question.”

 

The hjadd was quiet for a moment. I had the sense that heshe was listening to someone else whom we couldn’t see. “It is strange for a dioecious species to be so reluctant about revealing their bodies,” heshe said at last, hisher eyes twitching back and forth between us. “How is it possible for you to mate without exposing your reproductive organs?”

 

Now it was my turn to become red-faced. “We’re ... um, not mates. Just friends, that’s all.”

 

The hjadd’s fin lowered, and hisher head moved back and forth upon hisher long neck. “I now comprehend. However, the rules of the Talus remain. You may not pass this point without undergoing decontamination, and this procedure cannot begin until you have removed all your clothing.”

 

I was about to respond when I heard a click in my right ear. Ted’s voice came through my headset. “Jules, do you copy? Is there a problem over there?”

 

I prodded my mike. “Roger that, Captain ... and, yeah, we’ve got a hold-up.”

 

The hjadd waited patiently while I briefly explained the situation; Rain tapped into the comlink, but didn’t say anything until I finished. When I was done, there was a short pause, then Ted came back online. “Look, I understand this is uncomfortable for both of you, but Jas says that if you don’t undergo decontamination, none of us will be allowed aboard. No two ways about it. Sorry.”

 

Rain’s mouth fell open. “Skipper, I can’t...”

 

“Rain, stop being such a prude. The rest of us are in the next room. If you don’t want to be alone with Jules, you can wait until we join you, and then we can all get naked together. Or you can trust Mr. Truffaut to be a gentleman and keep his back to you. Either way, though, you’re just going to...”

 

“Okay, all right. I get the point. Over and out.” Rain clicked off, then turned to give me a cold stare. “I swear to God, if you so much as...”

 

“Don’t worry.” I’d already turned away from her, setting my helmet down on the nearest bench. “I won’t so much as peek. I promise.”

 

Rain hesitated, then I heard her place her own helmet on the other bench. A few moments later, there was the soft sound of a zipper sliding open. From the corner of my eye, I saw that the hjadd had already vanished; apparently heshe realized that our primitive notions of privacy extended to himher as well.

 

A man of my word, I kept my promise to Rain. Not that it made much difference. The wall panels were just reflective enough that, even though I looked straight ahead, I was still able to see what was going on behind my back. I tried to distract myself by glancing down at my feet, but nonetheless it was hard to ignore the fact that a lovely young woman was peeling out of her undergarment just a few feet away.

 

And Rain was beautiful. No question about it. As much as I tried to ignore her reflection, she had a body that I could easily fantasize curling up against. I bit my lower lip and tried to think about baseball ... but when I looked up again, I saw that her gaze was fastened on the wall in front of her, and that she was studying my reflection as well.

 

Our eyes indirectly met for a moment, and for a second I thought I was a dead man. Yet my execution was delayed by the hjadd’s voice, coming from some invisible source: “Please close your eyes and extend your arms.”

 

I did as I was told, raising my arms straight out from my sides. A low hum surrounded us; although my eyelids were closed, nonetheless I could tell that the ceiling was gradually becoming brighter. For the next several minutes, we were bathed in ultraviolet radiation, followed by a hot, dry wind that whisked away dandruff and dead skin cells.

 

The humming ceased, the ceiling darkened, and the air became still once more. But just as I was about to open my eyes, I heard a whispered thufft! from somewhere behind me. An instant later, a white-hot needle jabbed me in the ass.

 

Rain yelped at the same moment I did, and I looked around to see her grabbing at her derriere. “What the hell was...?”

 

“Many apologies,” the hjadd said, still unseen to us. “Those were darts containing mild antibiotics. They are harmless to you and will soon dissolve, but they help ensure that you’re not carrying any micro-organisms harmful to our kind.”

 

“Great.” She massaged her buttock where the dart had penetrated her skin. “I thought you said this would be painless and non-invasive.”

 

“They lied,” I muttered. Made sense, though; if heshe had told us what was coming, we might have refused. And it was only a sting, after all; the pain was already going away, leaving behind little more than a tiny bruise.

 

“Yeah, well ... they’re not the only ones.” She glared at me. “You said you wouldn’t peek.”

 

“How did you know I did?”

 

“Because...” Her voice trailed off and she blushed, then quickly wrapped her arms across her chest and turned away from me. “So now what? Do we put on our suits?”

 

“That will not be necessary. Temporary garments are available to you.” As the hjadd spoke, a wall panel slid open, revealing a small closet. “Please put them on. They conform to your dimensions, and will keep you comfortable until your own clothes can be brought over from your ship.”

 

Hanging within the closet were several long shirt-like robes resembling dashikis, each embroidered with intricate patterns much like those on Jas’s robes. I removed two, tossed one over to Rain, then pulled on the other. At the bottom of the closet were several pairs of sock-like boots which could be put on either foot; I slipped on two of them, and gave a pair to Rain. Once we were dressed and I had stored our suits in the closet, the hjadd spoke again. “You may now proceed to your guest quarters. Transportation is waiting to take you there.”

 

The door on the other side of the room opened. Rain and I gave each other uncertain looks, and I gazed at the ceiling. “Just a second. I need to check with my people.” The hjadd said nothing as I walked over to the bench where I’d left my headset. “Captain, are you there?”

 

“We’re here. What’s taking so long?”

 

“Just finished decontamination. You’re gonna love it.” Rain rolled her eyes and I went on. “Look, the hjadd want us to go somewhere ... to our quarters, or so they tell us. That means we’re probably going to be separated, at least for a while. Should we...?”

 

“Go ahead,” Ted replied. “I’m sure you’ll be all right. We’ll meet up with you there.”

 

“Roger that.” I clicked off, then slipped the headset around my neck. Rain was waiting for a response; I gave her a nod and she shrugged, then we padded across the room toward the open door.

 

On the other side lay another tunnel, this one much shorter, ending at a sealed hatch only a dozen feet away. Resting upon a recessed track was a long, pill-shaped vehicle, its transparent canopy open at one end to expose six couch-like seats arranged in tandem. Obviously a tram of some sort. When I climbed into the front seat, with Rain taking the one directly behind me, the couches changed shape to conform to our bodies, with padded bars folding across us. The canopy slid shut; there was a prolonged wheeze as the compartment was depressurized, then the hatch spiraled open, and we shot down the tunnel...

 

And out into space.

 

* * * *

 

II

 

Or so it seemed, for it appeared as if there was nothing on the other side of the canopy except cold, unglimmering stars.

 

Grabbing at the safety bar, I gasped in horror. For a moment, I thought we’d been jettisoned into the vacuum ... then the cab passed through a ring, and I realized that the tram was a pneumatic tube running along the side of a thick cable.

 

We’d left the saucer where the Pride was docked, and now were being hurled through the Talus qua’spah. On either side of us, stretching out as far as we could see, floated a seemingly endless array of spheres, cylinders, disks, and wheels, all connected to one another by an intricate network of cables upon which other trams sprinted back and forth. Lights like a million votive candles gleamed from countless windows while, far above us, spacecraft of every conceivable shape and size moved in stately promenade.

 

“Oh...” That was all Rain could say; I didn’t have to look back to know that she was awestruck. I seconded the motion, adding another oh for good measure. The Talus qua’spah was more than a habitat; it was a vast city of space, stunning in its beauty, humbling in its complexity.

 

We didn’t get much of a chance to admire the view, though, because a few seconds later the cab took an abrupt left turn at a Y-shaped intersection and hurtled toward a large sphere. Just as it seemed that collision was unavoidable, a circular hatch opened at its equator; the safety bars held us within our couches as the cab decelerated, and then it entered the sphere.

 

We found ourselves in another station much like the one in the saucer. The cab glided to a halt with little more than a slight bump; another long wheeze, and the canopy slid open. I waited until my couch released me from its grasp, then stood up on legs that felt as if they’d become rubber. Rain was just as unsteady; her hand shook when I took it to help her out of the cab.

 

“That was fun,” I said. “Let’s do it again.”

 

“Sure. Any time.” She let go of my hand, then looked around. “All right, so where are we now?”

 

As if in response, a door behind us peeled open; beyond it lay a short corridor, its hexagonal walls lined with burnished copper panels. “Um ... we’re here,” I replied. “Wherever that is.”

 

The door shut behind us as soon as we entered the passageway. Too late to turn back now, and nowhere to go but forward. So we slowly walked toward the door at the other end. It parted in half as soon as we approached it, and...

 

“Holy...!” Rain whispered.

 

She was getting pretty good at taking the words right out of my mouth. All I could do was stare.

 

A library, much like one might find in a nineteenth-century manor somewhere in England. Beneath a vaulted ceiling from which crystal chandeliers were suspended, we saw mahogany-paneled walls lined with brass-caged bookcases, their shelves filled with leather-bound volumes. Antique armchairs and sofas stood here and there upon a thick Persian carpet, with brass reading lamps resting on oak tables and lithographs of country scenes framed upon the walls. A spiral staircase led to an upper gallery, and a mellow fire crackled gently within a marble hearth at the far end of the room.

 

It was comfortable, and luxurious, and lovely, and totally unexpected. My first thought was that this place was nothing more than a clever illusion, perhaps another hologram. Yet the carpet was soft beneath my feet, and when I laid my hand upon the back of an armchair, I felt supple brown leather. No, it was really ... real.

 

“What in the world?” Rain gazed around the room, her eyes wide. “How could they ... I mean...?”

 

“It is very simple to explain,” a familiar voice replied, and I nearly jumped a foot in the air when the hjadd we’d met in the reception area materialized beside me. Heshe regarded me with hisher usual stoicism, yet hisher fin rose slightly. “I apologize. Did I startle you?”

 

“Yes ... yes, you did.” My heart hammered against my chest, and I took a deep breath. “A little warning next time, please, um ... what did you say your name was?”

 

“I did not say.” A short hiss of amusement. “Since you have asked, though, I am Hahatahja Fah Tas-Saatja. I have been delegated to be your liaison while you are here.”

 

“Hahatafahjasat...” It was a mouthful of a name; when I stumbled over the syllables, sacs on either side of hisher throat puffed outward. “Sorry. No offense ... is it Fah for short? Or Haha?”

 

“Fah. Please do not attempt to pronounce the rest ... it would only be an insult.” The throat-sacs deflated, and heshe raised a hand before I could go on. “Your names, of course, are known. Jas Sa-Fhadda has already relayed that information to us.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Maybe heshe preferred to be addressed as Fah, but I couldn’t help but think of himher as Haha; heshe was definitely one for practical jokes. “We met aboard our ship. Nice guy.”

 

“Jas said the same about yourself.” Fah’s head rose upon hisher neck, as if to inspect me more closely. “In fact, heshe said you expressed an interest in our cuisine. Perhaps you will have that opportunity next evening, before the reception we plan to hold in your honor.”

 

Reception? This was news to me. I wondered if Ted knew about it yet. “We would be delighted,” I replied, trying my hand at diplomacy. “And I’m sure....”

 

“Excuse me,” Rain said, interrupting us, “but you still haven’t answered my question.” She waved a hand at the room in which we stood. “How did you know what ... I mean, how did you build all this?”

 

“Ah, yes...” Fah’s eyes rotated to take in the library. “It is a replica of the crew lounge of the Galileo. We duplicated it from images we found in the data banks of the Maria Celeste after we recovered it from Spindrift, and used it to help the surviving members of the expedition acclimate themselves once they were revived from biostasis. Since then, we have expanded it to serve as living quarters for human visitors.” Heshe pointed to the gallery. “Your bedrooms are located up there, along with hygiene facilities. I hope the accommodations are suitable for your needs.”

 

“It’s ... very nice, thank you.” Rain’s voice was low; I could tell she was still trying to wrap her head around finding a Victorian library in an alien space colony. “I’m sure the others will ... um, find it interesting.”

 

As they spoke, I wandered over toward the hearth. As I suspected, the fire was just another holo; it cast no warmth, and the logs remained unconsumed. I picked up a book from a side table, only to discover that I was unable to open its cover. Stage props, nothing more. I hoped that the bathroom toilets were functional, or we’d be in big trouble.

 

“I’m pleased that you’re satisfied with the arrangements.” Fah cocked hisher head to one side, listened for a moment, then went on. “Your companions are on the way. They will be joining you shortly. If there is nothing else I can do for you...”

 

Before either of us could say anything, heshe vanished, winking out of existence as suddenly as heshe had appeared.

 

* * * *

 

III

 

Rain stared at the place where Fah had stood, then let out her breath. “Just for once, I’d like to see himher use the door.” An irate scowl. “And you’re a big help ... can’t you learn to say their names correctly?”

 

“Sure, I can. Fah. Jas. Can’t wait till we meet the one named Duh.”

 

“Hush. They might be listening.” Self-conscious, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Come to think of it,” she added, glancing up at the ceiling, “we’d better watch what we say.”

 

“Yeah. Easily offended, aren’t they?” I sauntered over to the nearest bookcase and opened its cage, but wasn’t able to remove any of the books upon its shelves. More props. “Next time we come here, we’ll have to bring our own....”

 

The door leading to the tram opened just then, and we turned to see Ted walk in. “Ah, there you are,” he said, giving us a wry grin. “Serves you right for getting ahead of us.”

 

“Your idea, skipper.” Rain smiled back at him. “You just missed our host. He was here a second ago.”

 

“Fah? Met him while we were going through decontamination.” The captain gazed around the library, apparently unsurprised by our surroundings. “Yeah, same place,” he murmured. “Looks like they’ve fixed it up a little, though.”

 

“Maybe they finally got some real books.” Emily followed him through the door, followed by Ali, Goldstein, and Ash. The others were as startled by our surroundings as Rain and I had been, but Emily accepted it as a place where she’d been before. Seeing the two of us, she chuckled. “Nice pajamas.”

 

“Thanks.” I couldn’t help but notice that they were all wearing their own clothes. Well, that made sense; they didn’t have to put on EVA gear before leaving the ship. “They’re comfortable enough, but I wouldn’t mind going back to fetch my stuff. Think they’ll let me do that?”

 

“I don’t see why not, if you don’t mind taking the roller coaster ride again.” Emily sat down on a nearby sofa. “Doc’s still on the Pride. We decided that we should follow protocol and leave someone aboard.”

 

“Where’s Jas?”

 

“Left us as soon as we came down the gangway. Guess his pals don’t think he poses any sort of contamination threat.” Ted sat down next to his wife. “All right, we’re here,” he said to Morgan. “So now what?”

 

Goldstein was still staring at the library. Hearing Ted, he glanced back at the captain. “Tomorrow we’ll unload the cargo, and I’ll begin trade negotiations ... with Mr. Ash, of course. For now, though, we should make ourselves at home.”

 

Ash had walked over to the hearth; he quietly gazed at the fake fire, trying to ignore the rest of us. No telling how long it had been since he’d last had a drink. Once again, I had to wonder what it must be like, to be able to hear everyone else’s thoughts whether you wanted to or not. Nor was he the only one ill at ease; Ali kept glancing at the door, as if wishing that he, too, had remained aboard ship.

 

“Sounds like good advice.” Ted yawned, stretched out his legs. “Been a long day. Going to be a long one tomorrow, too.” He looked at Emily. “Should’ve brought some food over from the ship. I could use dinner.”

 

“Fah said that a reception is going to be held for us tomorrow.” I ran a fingertip across the back of an armchair. The upholstery wasn’t real leather, but whatever it was, it felt like cowhide all the same. “We should get a good meal then.”

 

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” Morgan peered up at a chandelier, almost as if speculating how much it was worth. “I’ve tried hjadd food. Rather disgusting.”

 

“I’m with you,” Emily said. “Besides, our systems may not be able to digest whatever they give us. I’ll head back to the ship later, gather some provisions. Won’t be much ... sandwiches and coffee ... but it’ll get us through.”

 

“Thank you.” Ted stifled another yawn, then stood up. “Right. So let’s rest up, and get ready to go to work tomorrow.”

 

He headed for the stairs, apparently interested in checking out the guest quarters. Ali followed him, while Rain went over to Emily and quietly conferred with her. Morgan continued to stroll around the room, inspecting every artifact in the library with a trader’s curiosity.

 

That left me with Ash. I walked over to join him at the fireplace. “So ... penny for your thoughts?” He didn’t respond, nor did he look away from the holoprojected flames. Apparently he wasn’t in a talkative mood. “Well, look,” I went on, “I’m going back to the ship in a little bit to fetch my clothes. If you’d like me to bring anything to you...”

 

“My bottle, you mean.” It wasn’t a question; he and I both knew better. Ash glanced over his shoulder at Morgan, who was out of earshot and not paying any attention to us. “It’s in my cabin, in the locker,” he added, keeping his voice low. “Morgan wants to keep me dry, but if you can get it for me....”

 

“Sure.” I had little doubt that he’d relax a bit if he could shut out everyone, if only for a little while. “And your...?”

 

“My guitar, too, yes. Please.” He favored me with a conspiratorial smile. “You’re all right, Jules. You’re easy to be around.”

 

“Thanks ... I guess.”

 

“I meant that as a compliment. You should take it as such.” Ash sighed, his gaze traveling to the fox-hunting scene above the mantel. “God, this is hard. My people should’ve never let Morgan talk them into sending me.”

 

“Your people.” I hesitated. “The Order of the Eye?”

 

Looking away from the lithograph, he stared straight at me. Once again, I felt a door open within my mind. “So ... Jas knows,” he whispered. “Heshe is aware of why I’m here.”

 

All of a sudden, I found myself wishing that I’d kept my mouth shut. “I ... yeah, I think so. Heshe asked if you belonged to...”

 

“I understand.” Ash shook his head. “Don’t worry. You’re not involved in this ... but I advise you to keep your distance. Things might get ... strange.”

 

“Aren’t you the one who told me I should get used to strangeness?”

 

The smile returned. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Then his face became solemn. “But there’s degrees of strangeness, and just now—” a moment of hesitation “—I don’t know what to believe.”

 

And then he turned and walked away, leaving me to wonder what he’d meant by that.

 

* * * *

 

TWELVE

 

* * * *

 

Raw deal ... Ash talks back ... what do you do with two thousand paperweights? ... getting the pink slip.

 

* * * *

 

IV

 

Next morning, Rain and I returned to the Pride of Cucamonga to unload the cargo. There were no quarrels this time around; in fact, you almost could’ve sworn we’d been working together for years. Of course, things were made easier by the fact that we had an unexpected bit of help.

 

Since the last time I’d visited the Pride, a second gangway had been extended from the saucer; this one led to the primary airlock. It made it a little easier for us to get back aboard. Once Rain and I suited up and exited the ship through the docking port, we discovered a half-dozen things that resembled bowling balls with two arms waiting just outside. Doc informed us that, according to Jas, these were Talus ‘bots tasked to carry away the cargo. A small, sled-like craft hovered nearby, piloted by a hjadd who never spoke to us but waited patiently while we opened the cargo modules. I guessed this was the one named Duh, although I was careful not to say as much over the comlink.

 

The gravity field within the saucer was temporarily switched off; since I didn’t need to operate the pod, I helped Rain untie the bales and move them to the lateral hatches, where the ‘bots captured them and, in turn, carried the massive rolls over to the sled. Once its bed was full, the sled would glide away, disappearing through a hatch on the other side of the hangar and returning a few minutes later to take on another load.

 

It didn’t take long for us to get used to working with the ‘bots, and although Duh remained quiet the entire time, heshe seemed to understand exactly what we were doing. At one point, though, while waiting for the sled to return, I happened to notice four figures—two humans, along with a pair of hjadds in environment suits—watching us from a cupola overlooking the bay. I had little doubt who they were: Morgan, Jas, and Fah, with Ash quietly standing nearby, making sure that all the merchandise had safely arrived.

 

It took about four hours for us to empty both modules. Once Rain and I were done, Duh disappeared without so much as a thank-you, the ‘bots trailing hisher sled as it returned to its hatch. Rain and I cycled back through the airlock. Much to my surprise, Rain allowed me to share the ready-room with her, so long as I promised to keep my back turned. Even so, we ended up helping each other remove our gear; she blushed a few times, but otherwise didn’t object to my presence. One more sign that she was getting used to working with me.

 

After we put on our civvies, we went back to the saucer. At least we didn’t have to endure decontamination again. Just as well; we were bone-tired, and all we wanted was to get a bite to eat and perhaps a nap.

 

Ted, Emily, and Ali were waiting for us in the library. They’d had little to do while Rain and I were busting our rears except listen in on the comlink, but Emily had made lunch for us from the provisions she’d brought over from the ship. The five of us were working our way through a plate of turkey-and-cheese sandwiches when the door opened and Morgan stormed in, trailed by Ash.

 

“We’ve been robbed.” His face was dark with anger, and beneath his left arm he carried a small, oblong object wrapped in silky white fabric.

 

“Come again?” Ted stared at him, then glanced at Rain and me. “Was anything missing?”

 

“No, dammit,” Morgan snarled. “I didn’t mean it that way. Everything’s accounted for, down to the last pound. It’s just that...” Inarticulate with rage, he jabbed a finger at Ash. “A fat lot of good you were! I was looking for an inside lead, and all you could do was...”

 

“Don’t blame me.” Beneath his robe’s hood, Ash’s expression was neutral. “I’ve told you what I can do and what I can’t, and I can’t...”

 

“Like hell! I’ve seen you do it dozens of times.” Morgan glared at him. “So help me, if you’ve been drinking...”

 

“No, but after putting up with you all morning, I need a stiff one.” Ash headed for the stairs leading to the gallery, no doubt to retrieve the jug of bearshine from his bedroom. I hoped that no one would wonder how it had made its way from the Pride to our quarters.

 

Morgan started to go after him, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he placed the cloth-wrapped object on the lunch table, then slumped into an armchair. Putting his face in his hands, he let out a long, depressed sigh. “I’m ruined,” he muttered. “God, I’m ruined....”

 

“Calm down.” Emily poured a cup of coffee and carried it over to him. “Just tell us what happened. Did the negotiations go bad?”

 

“Hell, yes, they went bad! You think I’m happy about this?” Raising his head, he regarded her as if she were an idiot. “Worst goddamn deal I ever made! We were screwed the minute we walked in there, all because that alcoholic son of a...”

 

“It’s not my fault!” Ash’s voice came as an angry shout from the gallery above us. Looking up, we saw him standing at the railing. He’d pulled back his hood, and there was an uncorked jug in his hand. “I did the best I could, but I can’t...”

 

“Back off, both of you.” Ted rose to his feet. “Mr. Goldstein, get a grip. And you—” he glared at Ash “—put that thing away, or so help me I’ll put it under lock and key and you’ll be dry until we get back home.”

 

Ash stared back at the captain. Apparently realizing this wasn’t an empty threat, he reluctantly jammed the cork back in the jug. “That’s better,” Ted said, then turned to Morgan. “Right ... now how about telling what happened, without any accusations.”

 

Morgan let out his breath. Before he could begin, though, my curiosity got the better of me. “What’s this thing?” I asked, reaching across the table toward the wrapped object he’d brought in with him.

 

“Don’t touch that!” Morgan snatched it away from me, then seemed to reconsider. With a resigned shrug, he put it back on the table. “Aw, what’s the point? Go ahead, open it up. Doesn’t matter ... you’ll be seeing plenty more like it, soon enough.”

 

I picked up the object. For something little more than twelve inches tall, it was fairly heavy. Carefully unwrapping the cloth, I found myself holding what appeared to be a small, black obelisk. Carved from opaque, unreflective stone and attached to a matching square base, it resembled a rectangular pylon that had been given a ninety-degree twist at its center.

 

“What is this?” Vaguely amused, I hefted it in my hand. About ten pounds or so, I reckoned. “Some sort of paperweight?”

 

“It’s called a gnosh.” Morgan studied me. “Do you like it?”

 

“Well ... yeah, I guess so.” Actually, I did like it. A lot. The gnosh fit smoothly within my palm, its surface warm to the touch. A small thrill raced down my back that was pleasant, almost sexual. “Can I have it?”

 

Morgan shook his head. “That’s my sample. I’ve give you one later ... lord knows I’ll have plenty to spare.” Another sigh of dejection. “Two thousand, to be exact.”

 

“Two thousand of...” Ali stared at the gnosh. “These things? In exchange for...?”

 

“That’s right.” Morgan picked up the cloth in which the gnosh had been wrapped. “This is what we’re getting in trade for our cargo.” Carefully draping the cloth over his hand, he reached for the obelisk. “Jules, if you’ll please...?”

 

I found myself reluctant to give it up. Morgan was insistent, though, so I surrendered the gnosh to him. The moment it left my hand, the ecstasy I’d felt left me. “Wow,” I mumbled. “That was interesting.”

 

“What in the world are you talking about?” Rain looked first at me, then at the gnosh. “Let me see that.”

 

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Ted shook his head, then turned to Morgan. “What is this thing? What does it do?”

 

“So far as I can tell, it’s an emotion enhancer.” Morgan swaddled the gnosh within the cloth, then placed it on the table. “Touch it, and it gives you pleasure ... or at least if you’re in a neutral frame of mind, as Mr. Truffaut was. Since I’m rather pissed off just now, I’m being cautious about handling it. Otherwise I might be tempted to strangle Drunko the Clown up there.”

 

“Keep it up, and I’ll show you my next trick.” Ash was making his way down the stairs. At least he’d put away the jug, but not before he’d sneaked one last slug of bearshine; I noticed that he carefully held the banister as he descended.

 

“Steady, gents.” Ted bent down to study the gnosh. Although it was safely wrapped again, he was prudent not to touch it. “So what else has Fah offered us?”

 

“What else?” A short, humorless laugh. “That’s it! Two thousand of these stupid things.” Again, Morgan shook his head. “Oh, did I get screwed...”

 

“What did you expect?” Ali picked up the gnosh, gave it a casual inspection. “We just brought them two and a half tons of weeds, for heaven’s sake. What did you think you were going to get for them? The key to the galaxy?”

 

“Yup ... that’s exactly what he thought.” Ash was visibly swaying as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He shuffled toward us, his breath reeking of booze. “Morgan believed that he could get something for nothing ... faster-than-light drive, advanced nanotech, some other kind of miracle technology, all for just a few bales of hemp.” He grinned and shook his head. “Manhattan for a handful of beads and shiny trinkets ... but this time, the Injuns outfoxed the white men.”

 

“Ash...” Morgan’s eyes were cold. “I’m warning you, don’t...”

 

“Don’t what? Disclose the details of your sleazy little deal?” Ash reached beneath his robe, pulled out the squeezebulb I’d given him. It was half full of bearshine; apparently he’d filled it before leaving the jug in his room. “Give up already,” he went on as he unsealed the nipple. “There’s nothing you can do about it now.”

 

He took a drink, then turned to look at me. “Get this,” he said as if none of the others were around. “Morgan brought me aboard ... brought me along, that is ... ‘cause he thought I might give him an inside edge. I mean, what could be better than to have a telepath at your side when you’re doing business? That way, you can tell what the other guy is thinking when you’re trying to drive a bargain. Great idea, really ... except there’s just one catch.” A pause. “C’mon, Jules. You’re a smart lad ... what do you think it is?”

 

He was clearly waiting for an answer. I thought about it for a moment. “Umm ... you don’t know hjadd?”

 

“Bingo!” Ash almost tripped over the hem of his robe as he wheeled away from me. “I can read their minds, all right ... but it doesn’t mean a goddamn thing if I don’t know what they’re thinking!”

 

“That’s not what you told me.” Morgan’s face was red. “You said you could...”

 

“No. I told you that I could pick up their emotions. No problem there.” Snickering beneath his breath, he sauntered over to Rain and flung an arm around her shoulders. “In fact, you wanna know how they feel about your boss?” Ash confided to her in a stage whisper. “They think ... well, not think exactly, but y’know what I mean ... he’s a fool for even trying to pull something like this.”

 

“Look who’s talking.” Rain irritably peeled his arm from her.

 

Ash didn’t seem to notice. He sailed away once more, taking another mighty swig of corn liquor. “But what they actually think ... well, damned if I know! They don’t know Anglo, really ... they just use those ... those whatchamacallits ... to translate our language into their own, and vice-versa. Their coga ... congi ... cognitive processes are in their own tongue. And believe me, Fah and Jas were real careful not to even think about any of the few words of our language that they actually understand.”

 

“So you couldn’t read their minds.” Ted had raised a hand to his face, and he was trying to hide his smile behind it.

 

“You got it, Cap’n.” Ash propped himself up against the back of a chair. “Y’know, just between you and me ... I think they’ve dealt with telepaths before. ‘Cause as soon as Fah saw me comin’, he ... heshe, I mean ... put up a mental wall, and the only thing I could make out was the vague impression that heshe needed to pee.”

 

“The Order of the Eye.” I hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but at that moment it seemed pointless to keep it a secret any longer.

 

Morgan stared at me. “How did you know about that?”

 

“Jas asked me if Ash belonged to them. When I visited himher in hisher quarters.” I hesitated, realizing that I’d said more than I should have. “They knew about him already. How, I don’t...”

 

“So why didn’t you ... ?” Morgan stopped himself, and shook his head. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter anyway.” He picked up the gnosh from where Ali had left it on the table, turned it over in his hands. “Two thousand tchotchkes,” he said quietly. “Well, maybe it’s not a total loss. If I sell them wholesale at two hundred colonials per unit, perhaps I can make back the overhead costs.”

 

“We’ll get paid, won’t we?” Emily asked.

 

“Rest assured, I’ll abide by the terms of my contract. No commission, though, I’m afraid.” Then he looked at Ash. “As for you...”

 

“What?” Ash tipped back his head and held the squeezebulb above his mouth. He crushed it within his fist until the last drop of bearshine was gone, then tossed the empty bulb aside. “You’re going to fire me? You know better.”

 

I wondered what he meant by that, but before I could say anything, Ted let out his breath. “Well, there it is. We’ll load up the ... paperweights, or whatever ... and go home. Maybe next time we’ll get a better deal, but for now...” He shrugged. “At least it’s a start.”

 

The start of what, he didn’t say. No one else was willing to speculate, either. All I knew was that not even feeling up a gnosh could have made anyone feel better just then.

 

* * * *

 

V

 

I went upstairs and lay down, intending to take a nap. But I had just dozed off when Ted knocked on my door. Fah had appeared again, this time to inform him that the shipment of gnoshes was packed and ready to be put aboard the Pride. Since the captain wanted to return home as soon as politely possible—we still had the reception to attend that evening, but he’d scheduled our departure from Talus qua’spah for 0900 in the morning—he needed Rain and me to load the cargo that afternoon.

 

No problem, so far as I was concerned. Rain didn’t voice any objections either, so we headed back to the saucer. As we were leaving the guest quarters, though, Ali asked if he could join us; he was bored, and wanted to watch the load-in from the ship. Couldn’t blame him very much. Ash had passed out on the downstairs couch, and from behind the closed door of Morgan’s bedroom I could hear him discussing something with Ted and Emily—the details of the deal he’d made with the hjadd, I assumed. So there was nothing for our pilot to do. At least Rain and I were keeping busy.

 

Once we returned to the Pride and suited up again, we found Duh and hisher minions waiting for us in the hangar. The sled was loaded with square metal crates, each four feet wide on the side. I opened one before we put it aboard, and found that it contained fifty gnoshes, each individually sealed in plastic, stacked and separated from one another by removable dividers. Either the hjadd had packed the crates in a hurry, or else they’d decided what they wanted to give us in exchange for our cannabis long before we got there. I wondered if Morgan was aware of this.

 

So Rain and I spent the next four and a half hours loading the crates aboard the Pride; there were forty in all, and once again we alternated between Cargo One and Cargo Two, making sure that the mass was evenly distributed on either side of the ship. The hjadd ‘bots did much of the work for us, carrying the crates from the sled to the cargo hatches, where either Rain or I would take possession of them and push them over to the inside decks to be lashed down. Once this was done, she and I carefully counted the crates, using light pens and data pads to maintain inventory control. Unless the hjadd had decided to put rocks inside some of those boxes, we had exactly two thousand gnoshes to take home. I hoped Morgan was as shrewd of a businessman as he claimed he was, or otherwise he’d be stuck with a whole lot of paperweights.

 

Rain and I cycled through the airlock for what we hoped was the last time, but when we left the ready-room, we discovered Doc Schachner waiting for us at the airlock. Apparently Ali had decided that he’d had enough of extraterrestrial hospitality; with Ted’s permission, he’d elected to remain aboard the Pride for the remainder of the trip, taking over for Doc as watchman. Which was fine with our chief engineer; he wanted to see Talus qua’spah for himself. So we escorted him down the tunnel to the decontamination facility, and waited for him while he endured the strip-and-jab procedure himself.

 

Another tram ride, which by now had become almost dull, and we were back at the library. Ash was still crashed out on the couch, although someone had rolled him over so that he wouldn’t snore so much. The door to Ted and Emily’s room was shut, so I figured they were spending some quality time together. I was thinking about taking a siesta when Morgan appeared at the gallery railing. Would I please come up for a private meeting? It didn’t sound like I had much choice, so I went upstairs to his room.

 

For a race with limited exposure to human needs, the hjadd had furnished our rooms well. A bed, a desk, an armchair, and a private bath complete with toilet, sink, and shower: nothing fancy, but comfortable all the same. Morgan had turned his quarters into a temporary office; a comp was open on his desk, with papers spread out on either side of it. He closed the door behind us, then took a seat in the only chair in the room.

 

“Did the load-in go well?” he asked.

 

“Sure. No problem.” I shrugged. “Forty crates, fifty items per crate. Two thousand paperweights in all.”

 

He frowned. “I’d just as soon that you not refer to them as paperweights. Once Janus puts them on the market, they’ll be sold as alien artifacts ... mood enhancers, most likely. What our customers do with them is their own business, of course, but ‘paperweights’ makes them sound trivial.”

 

“Sure. Whatever.” So far as I was concerned, he could call them Ol’ Doc Morgan’s Magic Elixir and pitch them as rheumatism cures. “Anyway, they’re aboard, safe and sound.”

 

“Uh-huh. Good.” He didn’t say anything else for a moment, but instead simply regarded me with what might have been a forlorn expression if it had extended to his eyes. But there was something in his gaze that was cold and ruthless, and I began to realize that whatever he wanted to discuss with me, it wasn’t good.

 

“Jules,” he said, after letting me stand there for a little while, “you’ve disappointed me. When I interceded on your behalf, it was because I thought you’d be a major asset. Indeed, I believed you’d be a good employee. But now...”

 

Morgan sighed, running a hand across the top of his shaved head as he glanced up at the ceiling. “What you’ve done ... your conduct the last couple of days ... has been nothing short of a betrayal of my confidence. At the very least, it was unprofessional. At worst, it undermined everything I was trying to achieve.”

 

“Huh?” I blinked. “What are you...?”

 

“I asked you to stay away from Mr. Ash, and not approach him without my permission. I explained to you that his ... well, his talent ... makes him sensitive, and that your dealings with him should be minimal. But instead, you chose to ignore my request, and...”

 

“So I spoke to him. Big deal.”

 

“No.” He scowled at me. “It’s worse than that, and you know it. You brought him bearshine from the ship, just when I needed his judgment to be unimpaired. And that...”

 

“Oh, no, you don’t!” I snapped. “You’re not sticking this on me. I saw Ash this morning before he went into that meeting with you and Fah, and he was cold sober.”

 

“No, he wasn’t. He was hung over.”

 

“Maybe so ... but that doesn’t mean he was drunk.” I shook my head. “Either way, it didn’t matter. Ash couldn’t read Fah’s mind because he didn’t know hisher language. All he could get were vague impressions. He told you that himself.”

 

“Yes, he did. But you also kept from me the fact that Jas knew that Ash belongs to the Order of the Eye. This is something you should have reported to me at once.”

 

“Sorry, but I was under the impression that you wanted me to mind my own business.”

 

“When it comes to something like this, your business is my business.”

 

“In that case, Mr. Goldstein, you should pay closer attention to your business.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Funny thing about all those paperweights—” his left eyelid ticked as I said this “—for something you bought just a few hours ago, they looked as if they’d already been packed for awhile. Either the hjadd are really, really efficient, or they’d decided upon the terms long before we got here. If that’s the case, nothing Ash could’ve told you would have made any difference.”

 

An icy stare. “Don’t tell me how to negotiate a deal, son. I was making my first million when you were still in diapers.”

 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t rely on telepaths.” Something occurred to me just then, a thought that had eluded me until that moment. “Ash is a good guy,” I went on, “but as a reliable source, he’s got a lot to be desired. Did you know, when you got him to read my mind while I was in jail, that he got the facts mixed up? I didn’t betray my brother ... he betrayed me. But that’s not what he told you, was it?”

 

“How did you...?” He stopped. “You talked to Rain, didn’t you?”

 

“She told me a little, yeah ... but I didn’t figure out the rest until just a second ago. I thought your people had somehow managed to access my Academy files, but that wasn’t how you found out about my past, was it? Instead, you sent Ash to see me in jail.”

 

He shrugged. “So?”

 

“So, what does his little mistake tell you about his reliability? Sure, he may be able to dig into people’s brains ... but for him to stay sane, he has to drink. And you should know better than to trust whatever a drunk tells you.”

 

“Yes, well ... I’ll be having some words with Mr. Ash once he wakes up. For now, my primary concern is with you.” Morgan paused. “I’m afraid I’ve had to reconsider the terms of our arrangement, Mr. Truffaut. Once our business here is concluded, I won’t be needing you any longer.”

 

“You mean, I’m fired.”

 

“Consider it a termination of contract, effective once we’ve returned to Coyote. You’ll be paid for services rendered, of course ... but you will no longer be employed by Janus, which means that you will no longer be eligible for its benefits.”

 

It took me a second to realize what he meant by that. The fact that I’d be evicted from my room at the Soldier’s Joy was the least of my problems. More important was the fact that Morgan had posted bail for me, with his lawyer seeing to it that my court case had been remanded to a future date. While I was working for him, it was doubtful that the magistrates would ever take serious legal action against me. But once I was no longer a Janus employee, I wouldn’t have that protection ... and the next time I showed up in court, the maggies would have fresh meat to barbecue.

 

“You son of a bitch,” I murmured. “You know what that’s going to do to me.”

 

A cold smile stole across Morgan’s face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, then he turned around in his chair to pick up some papers from his desk. “That’s all. You may leave now.”

 

My legs felt rubbery as I turned toward the door. “Oh, and one more thing,” Morgan added. “Please remember that we’ve been invited to a reception this evening.” He looked up at me again. “And you are expected to attend ... I think the hjadd would consider it rude if any of our party were absent.”

 

I should’ve said something about his own lack of manners, but this was one of those moments when your brain can’t find the right words. “Please don’t slam the door on the way out,” Morgan said as I left the room.

 

Screw him. I slammed it anyway.

 

* * * *

 

THIRTEEN

 

* * * *

 

Weird food ... feeling kind of ethereal ... party with the aliens ... a momentary lapse of reason.

 

* * * *

 

VI

 

I went back to my room and lay down again, but this time didn’t even try to take a nap. All I could do was stare at the ceiling. My mind was a blank, save for an elaborate daydream about somehow luring Morgan into the Pride’s airlock and giving him the heave-ho. For a revenge fantasy, it was rather satisfying, but out of the question. The Talus would probably object to us mucking up their space colony with our garbage.

 

After a long while, I sighed and got out of bed. Nothing I could do now except try to get along as best I could for the rest of the trip. At least I’d meet the hjadd. It’d give me something to talk about with my fellow prison inmates, once I was deported back to Earth.

 

When I left my room, I saw that everyone had gathered around the table where we’d been having our meals. Everyone except Morgan and Ash, that is; Goldstein’s door was still closed, and I noticed that Ash was missing from the couch where he’d passed out a few hours earlier. The others gave me wary looks as I came downstairs; I didn’t have to ask to know that they’d already learned I’d been canned.

 

Ted confirmed this by offering an apologetic hand. “Heard about what happened,” he said quietly. “I’m really sorry. Morgan shouldn’t have done that to you.”

 

“Yeah, well ... guess he needs a scapegoat.” I was glad to get whatever sympathy I could just then. “Would it be too much to ask if you could put in a good word for me?”

 

“I could, but—” a helpless shrug “—it wouldn’t make much difference. Once he makes up his mind, he seldom changes it.”

 

Emily walked over to join us. “Anyway, you may not be the only one who’s going to be looking for another job.” She cautiously glanced up at the gallery, making sure that we weren’t being overheard. “When we talked to him a little while ago, he said something about putting our contracts under review. My guess is that, after this run, he’s going to replace us with another crew ... probably from Earth.”

 

I stared at her. “What for? You guys haven’t done anything.”

 

“Like you said ... he’s looking for scapegoats.” A scowl crept across her face. “So far as he’s concerned, this trip has been a complete bust, and Morgan’s the kind of person who blames anyone but himself. Besides, he has to tell his investors something, so...”

 

I felt a soft hand on my arm, and looked around to find Rain standing beside me. She didn’t say anything, nor did she have to; the look in her eyes was sufficient. For a brief instant, I was almost angry with her—despite what Emily said, Rain was the last person Morgan would fire, if only because of reasons of patronage—but it quickly passed. Rain had nothing to do with any of this; the fact that she was sympathetic at all toward me showed just how far our relationship had come in such a short time.

 

“Thanks,” I murmured, and she forced a smile and nodded. At a loss for words, I glanced over at the table. “So ... what’s going on here? Coffee break?”

 

“Something like that.” Doc stepped aside to let me look. “Although I don’t think anything here would qualify as coffee.”

 

Spread out across the table were an assortment of platters, plates, and bowls, each containing food of some variety or another. One bowl held something that looked like blue seaweed; another was filled with a murky black porridge. Limp green vegetables that resembled overcooked bean sprouts were piled upon a platter; next to it was a plate of small brown cubes a little like rice cakes. In the middle of the table was a bottle filled with some reddish-gold liquid that might have been maple syrup.

 

“Dinner?” I bent over the black porridge, inspected it a little more closely. It smelled vile, and the chunky stuff floating around in it didn’t look very appetizing, either.

 

“Uh-huh.” Doc picked up the bottle, experimentally tilted it back and forth. “Fah and a couple of hjaddsdelivered it while you were napping ... along with a few other things. Heshe said that, since we wouldn’t be able to eat at the reception along with everyone else, we were being served dinner in advance.” Twisting open the cap, he reached for a nearby glass. “Must be the local brew. Might as well try it out...”

 

“Might as well not.” Ted hurried over to take the bottle away from him. “We have no idea whether any of this is edible or not. And since we don’t have a physician aboard...”

 

“Oh, c’mon.” Doc raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You don’t seriously think they’d try to poison us, do you?”

 

“No, but...”

 

“He’s right.” Rain eyed a plate of something that looked like rancid cabbage. “I wouldn’t eat this stuff if you pointed a gun to my head.”

 

I picked up one of the cakes. It had a granular texture and a nice, spicy odor; I was greatly tempted to have a bite. “I dunno. If we don’t at least try some of it, they might take offense....”

 

“Put it down, Jules. That’s an order.” Ted frowned at me. “This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t told Jas you’d like to sample their cuisine...”

 

“Hey, I was just trying to be polite.” I reluctantly put the cake back on the plate. “How was I to know that heshe would take me seriously?”

 

“Yes, well ... perhaps not, but the last thing we need now is to have someone come down with food poisoning.” Emily sighed. “If they ask, we’ll just have to tell a little white lie and say that we enjoyed it very much.” She paused. “Maybe I’ll dump some of it down the toilet, to make it look like we’ve eaten.”

 

“That might work. As for now...” Ted pointed to the other side of the table. “We’ve been brought our evening clothes. Those, at least, I know we can wear ... so long as we’re careful.”

 

Stacked upon the table were several off-white bundles; on top of each was what appeared to be a small plastic air mask. Rain picked up one of the bundles; as she unfolded it, we saw that it was a long, white robe, similar to the one Ash wore except without a hood. Intricate patterns were stitched across its thick, plush fabric. “What is this, anyway?” she asked, holding it up against her. “We’re supposed to put these on?”

 

“It’s called a sha.” Emily replied. “Ted and I were given ones just like these, the first time we were here. Consider it an honor ... apparently they have some ceremonial significance.”

 

“Okay, but what do you mean by being careful?” So far as I could tell, they were no more menacing than the outfits Rain and I had worn after we’d gone through decontamination.

 

“They’re sensitive to electrodermal charges from the skin ... see?” To demonstrate, Emily took the sha Rain had opened and slipped it on over her clothes. Rolling back a sleeve of her work shirt, she allowed the sha’s bell sleeve to rest against her forearm. A moment passed, then its whorl-like patterns turned a pale shade of yellow. “That means I’m calm, but if I get angry—” she closed her eyes and concentrated, and the pattern became black “—the sha shows that, too.”

 

“Oh, great.” Doc shook his head. “That means we have to make sure no one gets pissed off.”

 

“It’s not so bad,” Emily added. “They’re really quite comfortable. I’ve found that, if you have a T-shirt and knickers on underneath, it mitigates the sensitivity a bit. So long as you keep control of your emotions, you’ll be fine.”

 

“And what if we decide to come as we are?”

 

“Can’t do that.” Ted let out his breath. “Maybe we can get away without eating the food they’ve offered us, but showing up without these will definitely be considered rude. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.” He picked up one of the air masks. “Fah told us these contain translators. You activate them by touching this little button.” He pointed to a small stud recessed within one side of the mask. “Don’t use it unless you have to, though, okay? Just let me do the talking.”

 

Doc regarded the mask with suspicion. “They definitely have a low tolerance for cultural differences, don’t they?”

 

“I just don’t want any misunderstandings, that’s all.” Ted glanced at his watch. “We’re expected in about an hour or so. Everyone go change, and we’ll meet back here.”

 

“And then what?” I asked.

 

“Then we’re off to the party.” Ted grinned. “Don’t worry. Remember, we’re the guests of honor. What could go wrong?”

 

* * * *

 

VII

 

Taking the sha and air mask under my arm, I went back up to my room and put them on. It felt like I was wearing a bathrobe, but once I tied its sash in place and hung the air mask around my neck, the sha was pleasantly warm, its patterns taking on a subtle yellow glow. When I experimented a little by recalling my earlier fantasy about pitching Morgan through an airlock, though, they gradually turned black. All right, then: no more nasty thoughts about the boss, or at least not until I was back in my own duds.

 

I was the first person to return to the library. Everyone else was still in their rooms. In hindsight, I realized that perhaps I should have taken a bath. Too late for that, though; I’d just have to wait for the others. So I puttered around the room, looking at the lithographs on the walls while trying to ignore the growling in my stomach. Perhaps I could make a sandwich....

 

My gaze fell upon the food the hjadd had brought us. Emily had left some turkey-and-cheese sandwiches on the table, but hadn’t yet disposed of the alien repast. The porridge still looked obscene, and I’ve always disliked cabbage and bean sprouts regardless of their color, but the cakes were awfully tempting. I picked up one, peered at it closely. It looked no more sinister than a chocolate brownie, and it smelled positively delicious.

 

What the hell. I was hungry, and I was tired of sandwiches. I took a tentative nibble of the cake; it had a satisfying crunch, and tasted like gingerbread spiced with nutmeg, albeit with a strong herbal aftertaste. I swallowed, waited to see what would happen next. When I didn’t have an urge to vomit, I glanced up at the gallery to make sure that no one was watching, then ate the rest. And then, simply because I wanted to, I helped myself to another.

 

I was on my third cake when a door upstairs opened and shut. I stuffed the rest of it in my mouth and chewed as fast as I could. I’d just wiped the incriminating crumbs from the corners of my mouth when Ash came downstairs. He must have slept off the booze, because he didn’t stumble on the way down. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, regarded me with curious eyes.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Nothing. Just waiting for everyone to show up.” I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a sha, but instead his own robe. “Didn’t you get one of these?” I asked, plucking at the sleeve of my outfit.

 

“Yeah, but I’m not putting it on.” He didn’t bother to explain why, but instead continued to study me. “You’re feeling guilty about something. What is it?”

 

I stepped away from the table, hoping that he wouldn’t subject me to a deep probe. The patterns of my robe had turned red, though; I tried to make the color go away by thinking about something else. “Don’t worry about it. How did things go with Morgan?”

 

“Did he fire me, too, you mean?” Ash shook his head. “He’s not going to do that ... not so long as I belong to the Order. We’ve got too much on him.” A cynical smile that quickly faded. “Sorry I got you into trouble. That wasn’t my intention.”

 

“Nah. Don’t worry about it.” For some reason, I wasn’t as angry as I had been. Indeed, I’d come to accept my situation as inevitable. “Would’ve happened sooner or later, I guess.”

 

“Hmm ... yes, if you say so.” Ash’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

 

“Yeah. I’m great.” Although I wished he hadn’t interrupted me when he did. Those cakes were pretty good; I could have used another one.

 

He was about to say something else when another door opened and shut. A moment later, Morgan came downstairs, tying the sash of his robe around himself. When he saw Ash and me, his sha’s patterns turned dark brown; he avoided looking at either of us, though, but instead marched over to the fireplace, where he stood with his back to us. He shouldn’t have been so nervous; any animosity I’d felt toward him had disappeared, replaced instead by a vague sense of amusement. Hard to believe that I’d once respected him; in fact, I couldn’t help but think that he looked like nothing more than a fat old guy in a hotel bathrobe.

 

It wasn’t long before the rest of our group joined us. As I thought, both Rain and Emily had taken baths. Rain’s hair was still a little wet, but that only seemed to add to her sensuality. For the first time, I truly realized what a sexy creature she was, and how much I’d love to get beneath that robe of hers. There must have been a certain look in my eyes, for when she turned my way a blush appeared on her face that matched the color of her sha. Yeah, she knew what I was thinking ... and so what? I was a red-blooded, heterosexual male, and proud of it.

 

Meanwhile, Emily had walked over to the table. She glanced at the platter holding the spice cakes, and I wondered whether she’d notice that two or three were missing. Perhaps she did, because she turned to Ted. Before she could say anything, though, Fah suddenly materialized.

 

“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. Instead, we 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 unselfconscious 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 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 part 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 of mine. 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. Finally Ted 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 could’ve 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 one more 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 moved 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 flying buttresses, from which hung slender pennants inscribed with 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, stalk-like 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 right 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, cough-like 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 he 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 his 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 laid 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 now 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 worried 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 underway. 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 here and there 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. There was a hideous caterwaul, and I looked 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 muttered 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 semi-circle facing the dais, upon which stood a large, throne-like couch proportioned to hjadd 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, now 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 was I that it only barely occurred to me that no one else in our group was touching their own gnoshes.

 

“Jules.” Rain was sitting beside me, yet her voice sounded as if it was being transmitted from some planet many parsecs away. “Jules, snap out of it. You’re...”

 

The long, loud toll of a gong, and once again everything went quiet as all eyes turned toward the runway. A door opened at the side of the amphitheater, and two dozen hjadd, wearing armor that vaguely resembled that of ancient Romans, entered the room. Carrying staffs from which dangled ribbon-like flags, they marched in perfect cadence until, two at a time, they took up positions on either side of the runway. Raising their staffs above to shoulder height, they unfurled their flags, then stood at stiff attention.

 

“All rise for the chaaz’braan!” Jas commanded.

 

At a loss for what else to do, we stood up from our seats, gazed toward the door. The Great Hall had gone silent, yet from two seats to my left, I heard Morgan’s quiet voice. “The chaaz’braan,” he whispered to no one in particular. “Spiritual leader of the Talus. Sort of a holy man, if you could call him that. He’s...”

 

He abruptly went quiet as the gong sounded once more, and then the chaaz’braan entered the room.

 

I don’t know what I was expecting—the Pope, maybe, or perhaps the Dalai Lama—but that wasn’t what I saw. What came through the door was something that looked like a bloated and incredibly ancient bullfrog. Swaddled in heavy robes of crimson and gold whose train dragged behind him, he lurched forward on thick, bipedal legs, his shoulders bowed by the weight of years. Rubbery jowls fell from either side of a broad, thick-lipped mouth, and sparse white hair hung limp from a flat, slightly ridged skull, from which two deep-set eyes—one half-closed and slightly askew—gazed straight ahead in what appeared to be an expression of senile boredom.

 

As the chaaz’braan slowly approached the throne, it suddenly occurred to me that this was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. So this was the High Hoodoo of the Talus. If he’d been a bit smaller, I could have stuck him in a terrarium and fed him house flies. Almost as if to confirm my impression, his mouth lolled open, and a long tongue spilled out for a moment before disappearing again, leaving behind a moist tendril that drooled from his lips.

 

Feeling an uncontrollable urge to crack up, I quickly raised a hand to my mouth. Yet I was too late to keep from laughing out loud. In the silence of the Great Hall, it sounded like someone busting a gut during a funeral ... which made it even more ridiculous.

 

Rain grabbed my arm. “Shut up!” she snapped, no longer trying to be quiet. “You’re going to...!”

 

But the damage was done. The chaaz’braan had heard me. Stopping just short of his throne, he slowly turned to regard me with a wall-eyed stare that was both wise and moronic at the same time. And, indeed, everyone else in the Great Hall seemed to be watching me as well. My crewmates, Jas and Fah, the hjadd honor guard, the hundreds of extraterrestrials gathered around us ... all had turned to see what was going on with the impetuous young human who’d brayed in the presence of the holiest of holies.

 

“Sorry ... I’m so sorry.” I gazed back at the chaaz’braan, trying to show the proper respect yet still incapable of hiding my grin. “My apologies, your worship ... your highness ... your frogginess, or whatever...”

 

“Jules!”

 

Ignoring Rain, I stepped forward, approaching the dais with my hands outstretched. “No, really ... I mean it. I’m just some poor goof from Earth ... hell, two weeks ago, I was a stowaway ... and now, here I am, face to face with the greatest ... um, toad, I guess ... in the entire galaxy.”

 

Ted tried to grab my arm and pull me back, but I was on a roll. Slipping free of his grasp, I continued walking toward the chaaz’braan. “So I’m absolutely, completely, totally overwhelmed,” I babbled, making my way up a short flight of steps to the dais. “This is a real honor, your ... um, whatever they call you back in the pond ... and I just want to say that me and my friends are happy to be here, and thanks for all the paperweights, and...”

 

By then, I’d reached the top of the dais. The chaaz’braanwas only a few feet away; his one good eye peered at me with what seemed to be amusement, as his mouth stretched open to allow his tongue to loll forward again.

 

“Well,” I finished, “I promise I won’t eat your legs.”

 

I was about to wrap my arms around him in what I meant to be a brotherly hug when, all of a sudden, the small airborne balls I’d seen earlier swooped down upon me. They circled me like the electrons of an enormous atom, preventing me from getting any closer to the chaaz’braan. Annoyed by their interruption, I raised my hands to swat them away.

 

One of them touched the back of my left hand, and that was it. I was out like a light.

 

* * * *

 

FOURTEEN

 

* * * *

 

The morning after ... the frog-god is amused ... truth and consequences ... an act of atonement.

 

* * * *

 

IX

 

Exactly how long I was out of commission, I couldn’t know. What I did know for certain is that, when I woke up on the sofa in the library, it was with the worst hangover of my life. Which isn’t saying much, because I’d never been a heavy drinker. If this was what Ash had to deal with every time he went on a bender, though, it was enough to make me vow then and there never to get smashed again.

 

But ... I hadn’t been drunk. The last thing I recalled was raving at the chaaz’braan; then little glowing balls swarmed in upon me. Up until that point, my behavior had been erratic, to say the least, but I could’ve sworn in good faith that neither grain nor grape had passed my lips. And if not, then why did my brain hurt so much and my eyes feel as if they’d been rubbed with sandpaper?

 

Rolling over on the sofa, I looked up to find Rain gazing down at me. The expression on her face wasn’t pleasant; she’d changed out of her sha, but I didn’t need its patterns to tell me her mood was black.

 

“Umm ... hey there,” I muttered. “What happened?”

 

“I don’t know. You tell me.” Despite her anger, her voice was gentle, genuinely concerned. She reached over to a side table, picked up a glass of water. “Here. Drink this.”

 

I managed to sit up enough to take the glass from her without spilling it. Even that, though, was sufficient to make my skull feel as if it was ready to explode. But my mouth tasted like a sandbox, and a drink of water was worth the pain. “Thanks,” I gasped once I’d quenched my thirst. “Where ... I mean, how did I get back here?”

 

“We carried you. Hold on a sec.” Rain was wearing her headset; she tapped its lobe and murmured something I didn’t quite catch. “Everyone’s in bed,” she continued, “but the skipper said he wanted to be awakened as soon as you came to.”

 

“So you’ve been up with me all night?” She nodded, and I glanced at my watch. A quarter to seven, by the ship’s clock. “Thanks. I appreciate it ... and the lift back, too.”

 

“Yeah, well...” Rain pushed my legs aside so that she could take a seat at the other end of the sofa. “You’re lucky we were able to get you out of there. The hjadd ... Fah in particular ... wanted to take you into custody for what you did back there. Fortunately, Morgan interceded on your behalf, and, well...”

 

“Wait a minute.” Holding up a hand, I struggled with my memory. Lots of holes there that needed to be filled. “What did I do back there?”

 

She stared at me. “You mean you don’t remember?” I started to shake my head; it was too painful to do so, but she got the idea. “God, Jules...”

 

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

 

“No ... we’re in trouble,” Ted said. “You’re just the guy who got us there.”

 

I hadn’t heard the door of his room open and shut; when I looked up at the gallery, though, I saw the captain heading for the stairs, with Emily behind him. Like Rain, they were back in their own clothes. Realizing that I was still wearing my sha, I suddenly wanted to get out of it; the robe felt filthy, as if I’d done something embarrassing while wearing it. Which apparently was the case.

 

“Next time I give you an order,” Ted went on as he came down the stairs, “you damn well better listen to me.” He nodded toward the table where the food the hjadd had brought us still lay. “And that includes skipping a free meal.”

 

Ouch. So they’d figured it out. But still ... “I don’t understand. Are you telling me it’s something I ate?”

 

He and Emily stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looked at each other. “All right,” Emily said, walking over to pick up the plate of spice cakes I’d sampled, “we already know you had some of these. What I don’t know is, how many?”

 

It took me a second to refresh my memory. “Two, I think ... no, three.”

 

“Three? You’re sure about that? Not four or five?” I forced myself to nod again, and she sighed. “Three. Wow. They must be loaded to do that to someone.”

 

“Loaded with what? I don’t...”

 

“Marijuana. The same stuff we brought with us.” Emily held up one of the cakes. “Jas tells us they’re called saqis. A delicacy, intended as dessert. They’re usually made with a native herb found on their own world, but it’s only in recent years that the hjadd have learned that cannabis is a fine substitute. Apparently they decided that we’d like to find out how they cook with it.”

 

“But if...” I was confused. “Look, if they knew that these things would have that kind of effect on us, then why did they...?”

 

“That’s just it. They didn’t know.” She dropped the saqi back on the plate, brushed her hands clean against her trousers. “Cannabis is no more potent to them than coffee is to us, which is why they enjoy it so much. But with humans, particularly in large concentrations...”

 

“It’s not entirely your fault.” Ted settled into a nearby armchair. “You didn’t know what you were getting into. And I should’ve realized what was going on when you started behaving oddly even before we walked into the reception.”

 

“It wasn’t just those things.” Now that my head was beginning to clear, my recollection of the night was starting to come back to me. “I was just feeling a little goofy going into the hall. But when I touched the paperweight ... the gnosh, I mean...”

 

“Oh, crap.” He closed his eyes. “That just made it worse, didn’t it?”

 

“Uh-huh. You could say that.” The longer I was awake, the more I was able to remember ... and none of it was good. “Did I really tell the ... what do they call him, the chaaz’braan? ... that I wanted to eat his legs?”

 

“Not exactly, but close enough.” A wan smile from Rain. “At least you lucked out in one way ... you didn’t switch on your translator. The only ones besides ourselves who understood what you were saying were Jas and Fah. So it could’ve been worse.”

 

“Oh, good...”

 

“Sorry, but you’re not off the hook.” Ted shook his head. “None of us are. Among the Talus, the chaaz’braan is revered as a religious leader. Almost a prophet. You don’t approach someone like that without much bowing and scraping ... and you were ready to dance an Irish jig with him.”

 

“Actually, I think I just wanted to give him a nice, big hug ... not that it makes much difference.” I paused. “Those globes, the ones that swooped down on me...”

 

“They’re called naya’Talus, or so Jas tells us.” Emily yawned. “Automatic sentries, intended to keep everyone in line. Non-lethal, fortunately, or you wouldn’t be here. In fact, it’s lucky you got out of there at all. The hjadd honor guard were ready to tote you off to whatever they call a prison before Morgan stepped in.”

 

“That’s what Rain said, yeah.” I winced with more than physical pain. “I’m so sorry. I can’t ... I mean, hell, I don’t believe I...”

 

“But you did,” Morgan said. “And now we’re going to pay for it.”

 

Great. Just the person I needed to make the morning complete. None of us had noticed Morgan coming down the stairs, but now here he was, wrapping a dressing robe around himself. “Someone make coffee,” he growled, less a request than an order. When no one hopped to it, he stared at Rain until she reluctantly rose from the sofa and wandered off to the kitchen. Morgan watched her go, then turned to me. “A fine mess you’ve put us in. Now I’m going to have to salvage what’s left of...”

 

“With all due respect, Mr. Goldstein, it’s not entirely Jules’s fault.” Ted folded his arms together. “If the hjadd hadn’t brought us a dessert made with cannabis, he wouldn’t have been tempted to eat it.” He darted a glance in my direction. “Perhaps he should’ve listened to me, but still...”

 

“Captain Harker, please don’t tell me how to run my business.” Morgan plainly wasn’t in a mood to listen. “What happened last night was inexcusable. Worse than inexcusable ... it was a disaster. It’s only fortunate that I have some pull with these people, or otherwise the lot of us could have been imprisoned on charges of heresy.”

 

“Look...” I stopped myself and tried again. “I’m sorry for what I did. I was out of line, and I apologize for that. But since my translator wasn’t on, no one except Jas and Fah knew what I was saying. And if that’s the case, so far as the Talus is concerned, all I did was make a fool out of myself.” I shrugged. “Big deal.”

 

Morgan scowled at me. “Do you seriously believe that’s all you did?” he asked, then shook his head in dismay. “No, of course you do ... you’re so dumb.”

 

“Now, that’s uncalled for...” Emily began.

 

Morgan ignored her. “The chaaz’braan isn’t just a religious leader. Among his own people, he’s considered to be a deity incarnate ... or rather was, because he’s the sole surviving member.”

 

“He is?” I blinked. “How...?”

 

“Before the destruction of their home world, the askanta made sure that the chaaz’braan wouldn’t perish along with the rest of them.” He held up a hand before any of us could ask the obvious question. “It’s a long story, and I’m not sure I understand all the details. What little I know, I got yesterday from Fah, as small talk during our negotiations. Suffice to say, though, that the chaaz’braan single-handedly managed to preserve that which the askanta valued the most ... their religion. Since then, Sa-Tong has been embraced by most of the Talus, with the chaaz’braan himself revered as its prophet.”

 

“Like Jesus, you mean,” Emily said. “Or Mohammed.”

 

“More like Buddha, I think, but you get the general idea.” Morgan looked at me again. “So when you pulled that stunt last night, the Talus didn’t need to understand what you were babbling ... they were offended all the same.”

 

“Then we’ll offer a formal apology,” Ted replied. “I think some of us did so last night, but it can’t hurt to do so again.”

 

Morgan sighed in exasperation. “Yes, we can do that ... but I’m not sure how much it will help. One of the main objectives of this mission was to convince the Talus that humankind is mature enough to join them. If they believe we’re just a bunch of heathens...”

 

He was interrupted by a bedroom door slamming shut. Everyone looked up to see Ash shuffling across the gallery, heading for the stairs. He seemed to be barely awake, and I assumed that he was hungover again, but before Morgan could continue his harangue, Ash cleared his throat.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “The fix was in from the beginning.”

 

“Pardon?” Emily turned toward him as he walked downstairs. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“I don’t think it was an accident that Jules got stoned.” For once, Ash appeared to be clear of eye and lucid of tongue; as he came closer, I noticed that the reek of bearshine that normally surrounded him was absent. “Nor was it a coincidence that saqis were delivered here just before the reception. In fact, we were all supposed to eat them.”

 

“Of course we were.” Morgan gave him a patronizing smirk. “It’s common courtesy of the hjadd to feed one’s guests before a formal event, so that they won’t be hungry later on. You’re not telling me anything I don’t know already.”

 

“Morgan—” Ash stared straight at him “—shut up.”

 

This came not as an insult, but as a direct command. Morgan started to say something, then abruptly went silent. Almost as if Ash had said something to him that only Morgan could hear. I recalled a comment Ash had made yesterday, when he’d said Morgan wouldn’t fire him because he belonged to the Order of the Eye: we’ve got too much on him. I didn’t know what he’d meant by that ... but apparently Morgan did, because he went as dumb as he’d accused me of being.

 

“There ... that’s better.” As the rest of us glanced warily at one another, Ash went on. “As I was saying ... maybe it’s hjadd custom to send food to guests, but I doubt they were ignorant of the fact that marijuana has a strong effect upon us. Particularly when ingested in large quantities ... more potent that way. After all, Morgan shipped quite a few pounds to them long before we came here. A sample, so to speak. So they’ve had plenty of time to study it.”

 

“Well ... yeah, that’s true.” Ted rubbed his chin. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean they deliberately tried to ... um, dose us.” He paused. “Besides, didn’t you tell us that you couldn’t read their minds?”

 

“I can’t understand what they’re thinking, no ... but I can sense their emotions. So I can tell you that, just as I figured out that Jules was stoned before the rest of you did, I also picked up that Fah was particularly satisfied by his behavior. Jas was appalled, to be sure, but the chaaz’braan was more amused than insulted....”

 

“He was?” That came as a surprise to me.

 

“Oh, yes.” Ash favored me with a smile. “He had no idea what you were saying, of course, but it helped that you were wearing a sha, and that its patterns showed you to be nothing more than a harmless little chucklehead.” He shrugged. “So the chaaz’braan just thought you were funny.”

 

“What a relief,” I said dryly.

 

“Nonetheless, Fah was satisfied by your performance ... and disappointed that the rest of us weren’t in the same condition.” Ash turned to the others. “Again, do you think it’s a coincidence that each of our chairs had a gnosh waiting for us? I can’t be sure, but I believe that was Fah’s idea as well. Sort of stacking the deck ... trying to make sure that everyone would be good and messed up by then time the chaaz’braan made his appearance.”

 

Morgan coughed loudly, and Ash glanced at him. “Yes, Morgan ... Fah does have a reason to want this mission to fail. Unlike Jas, heshe doesn’t like humans very much. I can’t tell you why, but what I get from himher is a vague sense of distrust and fear. Heshe would rather see us go away and never return ... and that’s probably why heshe tried to set things up so that we’d embarrass ourselves in front of the entire Talus.”

 

“But it didn’t work, because no one except Jules had any saqis.” Emily nodded. “Makes sense ... but why didn’t you warn us about Jules?”

 

“I thought it was just about Jules doing something stupid, that’s all.” Ash shook his head. “I didn’t really put two and two together until we were in the Great Hall ... and by then, it was too late to do anything about it.”

 

“Well...” Ted scratched the back of his head. “Not a hell of a lot we can do about it now. What’s done is done. All we can do is offer apologies, then pack up and go home.”

 

He stood up, stretched his back, then headed for the stairs. Rain was coming down from the gallery, carrying a tray laden with mugs of hot coffee. “Thanks,” he said as he took one from her. “I’ll call Ali, tell him to prepare the ship for departure. Once we hear from Jas, I think we can be out of here in—” he glanced at his watch “—a couple of hours or so. That okay with the rest of you?”

 

That was the moment Jas chose to show up.

 

* * * *

 

X

 

Speak of the hjadd, and heshe appears.

 

By now, we should have become used to aliens suddenly materializing in our midst. All the same, Mahamatasja Jas Sa-Fhadda’s arrival was so abrupt that Rain yelped and nearly dropped her tray. A mug toppled over the side and fell to the floor, spilling hot coffee across the carpet. None of us paid attention. If Jas was here, it could only mean trouble.

 

“I’ve come to relay a message from the High Council of the Talus,” Jas said, without so much as a salutation. “It has convened to discuss the events of last night, and has settled upon what it considers to be an appropriate decision.”

 

By then, Ted had recovered himself. Stepping closer to the holo, he extended his hands. “We’ve been talking it over ourselves. First, I’d like to offer our most sincere apologies for our conduct.” He glanced at me, then went on. “Particularly that of my crewman. His behavior was uncouth, and we realize how much it must have insulted the chaaz’braan, along with everyone else who was present at the...”

 

“Be quiet.” Jas’s fin rose to its full height, a clear sign that heshe was irate. “Captain Harker, we fully comprehend the nature of this situation. Although there is no question that Mr. Truffaut was rude, the Talus also recognizes the fact that he was not totally responsible for his actions.”

 

“Then you know about the saqis?” Despite Jas’s demand that he remain quiet, Ted seemed determined to defend me. “If that’s the case, then you should also be aware it has a certain narcotic effect upon our people.”

 

“Yes, we do, just as we have come to learn that Hahatahja Fah Tas-Saatja deliberately included saqis with your meal with the intent to subvert the reception.” Hisher fin slowly lowered itself as Jas’s right eye twitched in my direction. “Fah has been opposed to the hjadd negotiating a trade agreement with your race, in the belief that the Talus should not formally recognize a species that has only so recently achieved interstellar travel.”

 

“Yeah, well, gee,” Emily murmured. “Two hundred and eighty years is such a short time.”

 

Ted gave his wife a stern look, but Jas appeared not to have noticed her sarcasm. “As a result, Hahatahja Fah Tas-Saatja has been removed as trade delegate to your people. Heshe will have no further contact with you, and heshe will also be punished in accordance with hjadd law. We offer our own apologies for this unfortunate occurrence.”

 

Morgan coughed again. He seemed to want to say something. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ash nod once in his direction. Apparently that was enough to release Morgan from whatever psychic voodoo spell Ash had put on him, because he stepped forward. “Thank you, Prime Emissary. I hope this incident won’t affect any trade agreements our races may...”

 

“Be quiet.” Jas’s left eye rotated toward him, and Morgan reluctantly shut up again. “Nonetheless, a grave insult has been made, not only to the dignity of the chaaz’braan, but also to the Talus as a whole. Regardless of the causes, there are many within the High Council who have come to believe that humankind is not mature enough to conduct trade or cultural exchanges with other races, and that it may be in our best interests to isolate ourselves from your species.”

 

Morgan’s face went pale. “Prime Emissary, please...”

 

Jas’s throat sacs bulged, hisher eyes becoming narrow as they turned once more toward Morgan. “Do not interrupt me. I have not finished.” Ted glared at Morgan, and he went silent. “I have spoken on your behalf, explaining to the High Council that your party was insufficiently indoctrinated to the customs of the Talus, including proper social protocols within the Great Hall. After great deliberation, the High Council has decided to give humankind another chance...”

 

“Thank you,” Ted began. “We appreciate...”

 

“...provided that you make amends.”

 

Oh, crap, I thought, here it comes. I found myself remembering the dire fate that I’d imagined awaited me within the Great Hall. The rack, the cat o’ nine tails, the iron maiden ... the hjadd must have some way of dealing with heretics.

 

“The Talus has a task we wish for you to perform,” Jas continued. “One of great importance that, if successfully completed, will be of great benefit to all the races of the galaxy.” Heshe turned toward Ted. “Captain Harker, you are already familiar with one aspect of this assignment, from your earlier encounter with my kind. I am sure that you will remember Kasimasta ... what you’d call the Annihilator.”

 

Ted’s mouth dropped open. He stared at Jas in shock, stunned by what heshe had just said. “Yes, I remember. What about it?”

 

“We want you to rendezvous with it, with the purpose of undertaking a scientific survey. Your vessel will be provided with the proper coordinates for a hyperspace jaunt that will take you to a system Kasimasta has recently entered, along with an automatic probe that you will deploy within its estimated trajectory. Once this probe is in place...”

 

“I’m sorry, but the answer is no.” Ted shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jas, but I can’t do that. My ship is a freighter, not an exploration vessel, and my crew hasn’t been trained for this sort of mission. The risk is much too great.”

 

Jas peered at him. “Captain Harker, I believe you do not fully understand your situation. If you refuse to accept this mission, the High Council will have no choice but to sever all contact between the Talus and your race. That includes diplomatic ties with the hjadd.”

 

“I understand the situation completely ... and the answer is still no.” He hesitated. “If you wish to return to Coyote, you’re more than welcome to join us. No doubt you’ll want to break the news to your staff, perhaps even close down your embassy. But I’m not about to put my people in harm’s way simply for the sake of atonement.”

 

“You can’t do that.” Morgan’s voice quivered with fury; for a moment, I thought he was going to stamp his feet on the floor. “The Pride belongs to me. If I tell you...”

 

“Mr. Goldstein, you may be the ship’s owner, but I’m still its captain. When I say we’re returning to Coyote, that’s exactly where we’re going to go. You’re just going to have to find another way to make money.” Ted looked at Jas again. “My decision is final. Sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”

 

Jas didn’t respond for a moment, although hisher throat sacs throbbed and hisher fin stood fully erect. “As you will, Captain,” heshe said at last. “I trust that you still intend to depart Talus qua’spah today?”

 

“As soon as possible, yes.”

 

“Very well. We have already taken the liberty of refueling your ship and its shuttle.”

 

“Thank you. I...”

 

“I will meet you at your ship in an hour.” Without another word, Jas vanished.

 

“Harker...” Morgan began.

 

“Don’t start.” Ted held up a hand. “If you want to fire me, I understand perfectly. Perhaps you’ll be able to find another captain and crew willing to undertake this mission. But I’m not risking our lives just so that you can corner the market on alien knick-knacks.”

 

Morgan was livid. Hands balled into fists, he took a menacing step toward Ted ... and stopped when he apparently realized that Harker could paste him across the carpet. “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life,” he muttered instead. “Better hope you’ve made plans for early retirement.”

 

“If that means I’ll get in a little more fishing,” Ted replied, “it beats the hell out of working for you.”

 

Morgan started to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Or maybe he just decided that any further argument was pointless. In any case, as a cold silence fell between them, I took the opportunity to ask a burning question: “Pardon me, but would someone mind explaining what Kasimasta is?”

 

Ted let out his breath. “I’ll tell you later ... but believe me, it’s something we don’t want to mess with.” He looked at the others. “Right, then. Back to your rooms and pack up your gear. I want us out of here within the hour. Less if possible.”

 

I was about to pull myself off the sofa when a door slammed upstairs. Looking up at the gallery, we saw Doc standing at the railing, peering down at us.

 

“‘Scuse me—” he stifled a yawn with his hand “—did I miss something?”

 

* * * *

 

XI

 

There wasn’t much left for any of us to do except stuff our clothes into our duffel bags, so only a half-hour later we were ready to go. One last look around the library to see if we’d forgotten anything, then Ted led us down the corridor to the tram station. The ride back to the saucer was made in silence; no one spoke as our car hurtled through the tubes, but I found myself regretting the way things had gone. I would’ve liked to have seen more of this place, perhaps on a return trip. Now it appeared that we’d be the last humans to ever lay eyes upon Talus qua’spah ... and soon, the rest of the galaxy would be closed to us as well.

 

And it was all my fault.

 

When we arrived at the gangway, we found Jas waiting for us. Once again, the Prime Emissary was wearing hisher environment suit. I’d become so used to seeing himher in the flesh, it was startling to find myself staring at an opaque faceplate. Perhaps it was just as well. Jas said little to any of us, but instead followed us down the tunnel to the Pride’s airlock. If heshe was disappointed or angry, it was impossible to tell.

 

Ali was already on the bridge. He’d been asleep in his cabin when Ted called to tell him that we were making an early departure, so he had gone up to Deck One and initiated the prelaunch countdown. After everyone was aboard, Rain and I sealed the outer hatches, and once everyone stowed their belongings in their cabins, the crew and passengers gathered in the command center. Seating herself at her station, Emily opened a comlink and, in Anglo, requested permission to depart; Jas repeated the same message in hisher tongue, and a minute later we felt a slight jar as the Pride was released from its cradle.

 

Perhaps our leavetaking should have been more eventful, but it wasn’t. There was only a cold and unwelcome silence from the com, as if the Talus had turned its collective back on our party: goodbye and good riddance. With Ali gently working the maneuvering thrusters, the Pride of Cucamonga glided backward out of the docking bay, and soon the ship was in free space. One last glimpse of Talus qua’spah, then Ali performed a 180-degree turn that put us on a heading for the nearby starbridge.

 

Once we were underway, Jas floated over to the helm. This time, Ali made no attempt to disguise his loathing for the Prime Emissary; he backed as far away from the hjadd as he possibly could, and watched with disgust while Jas removed hisher glove and planted hisher left hand against the hjadd navigation system. Jas said nothing as heshe slipped hisher key into the slot and entered a code into its keypad, but once he was done, heshe turned to Ted.

 

“I wish to return to my quarters now, Captain,” heshe said. “If you wish to speak to me, you will find me there.”

 

Ted responded with only a nod; his gaze remained fixed on his instruments. Jas hesitated, and for a moment it seemed as if heshe wanted to say something else. But instead, heshe turned away from the console and, using the ceiling rails, pulled himherself over to the floor hatch. Without another word, Jas disappeared down the manhole.

 

Several people breathed a quiet sigh of relief once heshe was gone. But when I looked over at Ash, I couldn’t help but notice that his face was pale. Perhaps he couldn’t tell what Jas was thinking, but nonetheless ... well, he knew something was wrong, even if he was unable to say exactly what it was.

 

Hjarr fell away behind us as the Pride headed toward the hjadd starbridge. Once the ship was on final approach, Ali slaved the helm to the starbridge AI, then lifted his hands from the console and folded them together in his lap. Everyone cinched their seat harnesses a little tighter; Rain didn’t take my hand this time, but I could tell that she was nervous. She felt it, too—a certain sense of foreboding, as if something lay ahead of us that was both unidentifiable and unavoidable.

 

The silver ring lit up, and the Pride hurtled toward it. I took a deep breath, shut my eyes, and we plunged into hyperspace.

 

* * * *

 

FIFTEEN

 

* * * *

 

Hot Jupiter fudge ... four and a half million miles from Hell ... double-cross ... the only acceptable option.

 

* * * *

 

XII

 

One second, we were in hyperspace. The next, we were in trouble.

 

I knew something had gone seriously wrong the instant the Pride emerged from the wormhole, because every major alarm aboard ship seemed to go off at once. Startled, I opened my eyes, only to be blinded by white-hot light that blasted through the windows.

 

I screamed an obscenity and clapped a hand over my face, but not before a negative afterimage was burned into my retinas. Everyone else was shouting as well, and for several seconds bedlam reigned within the command center. No one was able to make out what anyone else was saying, though, until Ted’s voice rose above the confusion.

 

“Close the shutters! Close the goddamn shutters!”

 

“I can’t find the ... wait, I got ‘em!” Emily managed to locate the button that operated the outside blinds. The intense glare that swept through the bridge suddenly diminished, although harsh light still seeped through cracks at the bottom of the shutters.

 

“Someone kill the alarms!” Ted yelled. “No, wait, I think I...!”

 

Through the brown haze that blurred within my vision, I saw him searching for the master alarm. The various bells, buzzes, and shrieks abruptly went dead, and I suddenly became aware of a frigid blast against the back of my neck. Turning around, I nearly caught a faceful of cold halon gas pouring from a ceiling vent behind me. The fire suppression system had automatically kicked in, even though I couldn’t see a fire anywhere. But come to think of it, why was the bridge so damn hot...?

 

“Cut the extinguishers!” Rain was struggling to unclasp her harness; her eyes were squinted half-shut, though, and she evidently couldn’t see any better than I could. Someone managed to find the fire control button and the vents clamped shut, but not before everyone seated beneath them had their hair frosted. A moment later, exhaust fans activated, evacuating the remaining gas from the compartment.

 

“What the hell’s going on here?” On the other side of the deck, Morgan’s voice rose in outrage. “How ... Captain Harker, what are you...?”

 

“Shut up!” Ted kneaded his eyes with his fingertips, trying to clear his vision. “Doc! What’s our status?”

 

“Working on it.” Doc was bent over the engineering panel on his side of the console, peering closely at comp readouts. “Ship’s okay ... no hull breaches, all systems still online ... but I’ve got outer skin temperature at two hundred four degrees Celsius and climbing.” He hastily tapped a command into his keyboard. “Emergency cryonics activated. We can keep the major systems cool, but I don’t know how much longer.”

 

“Keep on it.” Ted looked over at Ali. “Helm, report ... where are we?”

 

“Don’t have a fix yet.” His reflexes must have been a little quicker than anyone else’s because apparently Ali had managed to avoid being blinded by the unexpected glare. “Wherever we are,” he added, staring at his screens, “we’re not where we’re supposed to be.”

 

“No kidding? Really?” Ted let out his breath, then looked up at the flat-screens above the console. All had gone dark, save for the ones displaying data from the ship’s comps. “Emcee, can you get us an outside view?”

 

“Starboard bow cam is fried, but ... wait a sec, I think the aft and middeck starboard cams are copacetic.” Emily worked at her console, punching one button after another. “Lemme ... oh, my God...”

 

An image appeared on the screens, and I felt my heart stop. Filling the screens was an immense sun, bright yellow and burning with all the fires of Hell itself, its surface spotted here and there with the tiny black smudges of solar storms. The cameras had been polarized to the max, but one look at this star and I knew that it wasn’t 47 Ursae Majoris.

 

“Got something on the aft port cams.” Emily punched up another image, and now we saw, only a couple of hundred thousand miles away, the bloated sphere of a gas giant. Half of it lay in darkness, with the tiny sparks of electrical storms racing across its night face, while reddish-orange cloud bands slowly moved across its daylight side. Whatever this planet was, it obviously wasn’t Bear or any other world in the 47 Uma system.

 

“Hold that picture!” Ali’s hands raced across his keyboard. “I can use the background stars to get a fix on our position.”

 

“Skin temp still rising.” Doc had remained calm until now, but his voice had gained an edge. “And don’t even ask about radiation levels.” He glanced up at Ted. “If we don’t find some shade real soon...”

 

“Wait a sec ... okay, I got it!” Ali tapped another command into the comp, and a miniature solar system materialized within the holo tank. “HD 217014 ... 51 Pegasi, approximately seventy-five light-years from Rho Coronae Borealis, eighty-two light-years from where we should be.” He nodded toward the gas giant on the screen above him. “That’s its closest planet, 51 Peg-A, approximately point oh-five A.U.’s from its primary...”

 

“Oh, Christ!” Emily exclaimed. “A hot jupe!”

 

I didn’t have to ask what she meant by that. A hot Jupiter is a jovian planet whose orbit, over the course of millions of years, has gradually become unstable to the point that it begins to spiral inward toward its star. Because of the way they perturb the motions of their primaries, hot jupes were among the very first extrasolar planets discovered by astronomers, way back in the twentieth century. Although freakish in nature, the galaxy is full of them.

 

“How the hell did we...?” Ali looked over at Ted, his face writhing in fury. “Jas. I told you you couldn’t trust that turtle-faced...”

 

“Must be a mistake.” Ted wiped a hand across his forehead, dislodging tiny beads of perspiration. The command center was getting warmer by the second; everyone’s clothes were becoming damp with sweat. “Never mind that now. Where’s the starbridge ... the one we came through, I mean?”

 

“Should be...” Ali tapped at his console, and a tiny ring appeared within the holo tank, positioned in orbit around 51 Peg-A. “There. About three hundred kilometers behind us.” He shook his head. “Why the devil would anyone put a starbridge here...?”

 

“I don’t know, but that’s not my concern just now. We need some breathing room while we figure out what’s going on.” Ted pointed to the jovian. “Think you can adjust course to put us in orbit around the night side, but still stay close enough to the starbridge that we don’t lose it?”

 

“It’ll be tricky, but ... yeah, I can do it.” Ali’s brow furrowed as he began to plot a new trajectory. “That’s providing, of course, that we can go back the way we came.”

 

Ted didn’t respond. He glanced across the console at Doc. The chief didn’t say anything either, but the look on his face spoke volumes. The Pride of Cucamonga was a good ship, but it was old all the same, and it had never been designed to fly this close to a star. If something wasn’t done soon, its instruments would begin to melt down; before then, everyone aboard would be broiled alive.

 

“Emily...” Ted began.

 

“I’m paging Jas.” Already one step ahead of her husband, Emily clasped a hand against her headset as she murmured something into her mike. A pause, then she looked up at Ted. “I’ve got himher.”

 

“Put Jas on open channel.” Ted touched his headset lobe. “Prime Emissary, this is Captain Harker. We have a problem here...”

 

“Yes, Captain, I am aware of the situation.” Like everyone else in the command center, I heard Jas through my headset. Hisher voice was ethereally calm, as if nothing unusual had happened. “I have been expecting you to call me.”

 

Ted’s eyebrows rose. “If you’re aware of this, then you must also know that the ship is not where it should be. I assume that a navigation error has occurred....”

 

“No, Captain, there has not been an error. Your ship has emerged from hyperspace precisely where I programmed my key to take it ... the star system you refer to as 51 Pegasi.”

 

For a second, no one spoke. Everyone on the bridge stared at each other in complete and total shock, unable to believe what we’d just heard.

 

Morgan was the first to react. “Damn you, Jas!” he yelled, the knuckles of his hands turning white as he gripped the armrests of his chair. “What the bloody hell...?”

 

“I told you! I told you he couldn’t be trusted!” Ali reached for the hjadd navigation system. “That’s it! I’m overriding this damned thing, right now!”

 

“Stop!” Stretching against his harness, Doc swatted Ali’s hands away from the helm. “Don’t touch it, or we’ll never get out of here!”

 

“Stand down!” Ted wrapped a hand around his mike. “Everyone, just cool it!”

 

An absurd order, considering that we’d just been thrown into an oven, but no one laughed. Ted waited until he was sure no one else was about to do anything rash, then released his mike. “Jas, what are you doing?”

 

“I am in my quarters, praying for my soul and those of you and your crew.” As before, the Prime Emissary was strangely at ease, as if resigned to our fate. “With fortune, our demise will be quick and relatively painless.”

 

I swore under my breath. Rain’s hand closed around my own; glancing at her, I saw only terror in her eyes. We were about to die, no question about it.

 

“However,” Jas continued, “there is one way this can be averted. Captain Harker, will you please meet with me in my quarters? I have to discuss our new mission with you.”

 

“Our new mission...” Ted took a deep breath, slowly let it out. “The Annihilator. You’re committing us to that, aren’t you?”

 

“The choice remains your own. Please come down here to meet with me.” A pause. “Please bring Mr. Truffaut with you. This concerns him as well. No one else may come.”

 

My heart stopped when I heard my name. Around the bridge, everyone looked in my direction. Ted glanced at me, and I forced myself to nod.

 

“We’ll be there soon.” Ted ran a finger across his throat, signaling Emily to break the comlink. “All right, then...” He unbuckled his harness, pushed himself out of his seat. “Ali, get us in that new orbit. Doc, Emcee, do what you can about holding the ship together. Jules, you’re with me.”

 

My hands were clammy with sweat as I fumbled with my harness. Suddenly, the last thing I wanted to do was pay another visit to Jas’s cabin. No choice in the matter, though. One last look at Rain, then I followed the captain to the access shaft.

 

* * * *

 

XIII

 

When Ted and I cycled through the airlock into Jas’s quarters, we found the Prime Emissary waiting for us, hisher feet anchored to the floor. Although Jas still wore hisher environment suit, heshe had removed hisher helmet. It was obvious that Jas was just as agitated as we were; hisher fin stood upright and hisher eyes twitched back and forth, nervously assessing us.

 

And that wasn’t all. As we floated into the compartment, Jas raised hisher left arm and pointed it straight at us. Wrapped around hisher wrist was something that looked like an oversized bracelet, except that it had four narrow barrels that looked uncomfortably like those of a pistol. Obviously a hjadd weapon of some sort.

 

“Halt,” Jas demanded. “Come no closer, or I will shoot you.”

 

Ted settled the soles of his stickshoes against the floor. “This isn’t a good way to open a dialogue, you know.” His voice was muffled by his air mask, but I could hear the anger in it all the same. “Especially among friends.”

 

“After what I have done, I doubt that you still consider me to be your friend.” As before, the voice that emerged from Jas’s translator was different from the croaks and hisses that came from hisher mouth. “There is also the fact that there are two of you.”

 

“You asked for me to come along, didn’t you?” Placing my own shoes against the floor, I raised my hands to show that I was unarmed. “See? Nothing up my sleeves.”

 

Apparently Jas didn’t get this colloquialism, because hisher head cocked sideways, giving himher the appearance of a curious tortoise that, under any other circumstances, might have been amusing. “Besides,” Ted added, “what’s the point of us trying to harm you? Without your help, no one gets out of here alive.”

 

“This is true.” Jas’s fin lowered to half-mast. “I am pleased that you recognize your predicament, Captain Harker. If I do not reprogram my key to the proper coordinates, your ship will not be able to re-enter the starbridge, and we will remain in orbit around this planet until we die.”

 

“I understand this perfectly.” Ted paused. “Just out of curiosity ... why is there a starbridge here? So far as we can tell, this planet is uninhabitable. So’s the rest of this system, for that matter.”

 

“My race built it during the period when this world was still in the outer reaches of its solar system. We used it to gain access to one of its outer moons, which was rich with vital materials that we were able to mine, and also to establish an outpost from which our scientists could study the planet’s migration. The moon has long since been destroyed, but the starbridge remains intact and operational. It has been seldom used, until now.”

 

“I see ... and we can’t leave unless you insert your key and program it to take us home.”

 

“Correct.” Jas’s eyes slowly blinked. “Once you agree to my terms and accomplish them, this ship will return to Talus qua’spah, where you and I will report on the outcome of our mission. Once that is done, then you will be allowed to go home.”

 

“Sort of a roundabout way, isn’t it?” I couldn’t help it; at this point, sarcasm was my best response to his generous offer.

 

Hisher right eye flickered in my direction. “Mr. Truffaut, if you had not behaved in such a boorish manner, none of us would be here. Indeed, this is not my choice either. But the High Council has demanded atonement for your actions, and since I am the Prime Emissary to your race, it has fallen to me to carry out their wishes.”

 

Ted and I glanced at each other. If Jas was telling the truth, then this wasn’t hisher idea. In fact, heshe was caught in the middle, forced by hisher diplomatic position to do the bidding of hisher masters.

 

“Right, then,” Ted said, “so let’s hear it. But first—” he nodded toward Jas’s weapon “—why don’t you put that away? I give you my word, no one aboard will do you any harm.”

 

Jas hesitated, hisher throat sacs inflating for a moment. Then heshe visibly relaxed, and heshe slowly lowered hisher arm. “Thank you, Captain. I apologize for any offense I may have given.”

 

Ted didn’t say anything, but instead folded his arms across his chest and waited for Jas to continue. Still keeping an eye on his, the Prime Emissary reached into a pocket of hisher environment suit and produced something that resembled a datapad.

 

“This is our objective.” Holding it out in hisher right hand, Jas flipped open its cover and touched a stud on its side. “Kasimasta, the Annihilator...”

 

A small shaft of light twinkled into being above the pad’s surface, then resolved itself into something that I first thought to be a planetary nebula: a bright yellow nimbus, resembling a dust cloud, surrounded by a reddish-orange disc. Yet plasma flares above and below the nucleus told me that this was no infant star, but instead something much more menacing.

 

“Holy crap,” I murmured. “That’s a black hole.”

 

Jas’s right eye swiveled toward me. “You do not know of this thing?” Again, heshe cocked hisher head as heshe looked at Ted. “Captain Harker, you have not told your crew about this?”

 

“No, Prime Emissary, I have not.” Ted slowly let out his breath. “Most of my people are unaware of its existence. It has remained a secret, known to very few individuals within our government.”

 

“A black hole is classified?” I looked at him askance. “What for?”

 

Ted shrugged. “Who knows? Most likely it’s because ... well, because governments like to keep secrets, that’s all. Maybe they thought people would panic if they knew it was out there.” He nodded toward the holo. “Believe me, when Emcee and I first learned about this thing, it gave us the creeps.”

 

“Since you do not know, Mr. Truffaut, I will explain.” Jas increased the magnification of the holo, and it slowly swelled in size. “Kasimasta is a rogue black hole, possibly created by the collision of two stellar clusters or dwarf galaxies billions of years ago. When the collision occurred, the intermediate-mass black holes at their centers, which were rotating in different directions, repelled each other, causing the smaller of the two to be ejected from the coalescent mass. It spun away at a velocity of four hundred miles per second, and hence began to travel through intergalactic space.”

 

The holo image changed; now we saw a miniature Milky Way, as viewed from some imaginary vantage point above galactic north. A red thread began to trace itself across the image, slowly moving toward the center of the galaxy. “At some time in the prehistoric past,” Jas continued, “Kasimasta entered our own galaxy. Since then, it has traveled on a spiral course toward the galactic core, one that has taken it through the outer rim and the Perseus Arm until, several million years ago, it entered the Orion Arm.”

 

“Damn,” I whispered. “That puts it right in our neighborhood.”

 

Ted said nothing, but only nodded as he listened to Jas. “During this time, Kasimasta has encountered several star systems. As it has done so, it has destroyed dozens of worlds. Most were uninhabited, but a few were the homes of intelligent races. The taaraq, whose ark Captain Harker’s expedition encountered, was one. The askanta, of whom the chaaz’braan was the spiritual leader, was another. The majority, though, did not survive the encounter.”

 

“Hold on.” I raised a hand. “Look, I’m no scientist, but I know a few things about black holes, and one of them is that their singularities are actually quite small. Even if this—” I stumbled over the hjadd word, and settled instead for the Anglo translation “—Annihilator is moving from system to system, wouldn’t it have to make direct contact with a planet in order to destroy it?”

 

Jas’s head rose upon hisher long neck. “Under normal circumstances, this might be true. However, since Kasimasta is a rotating black hole that doesn’t remain in one place, every planet, moon, and even asteroid it has consumed during its long history has contributed to its mass, with a proportionate increase of its event horizon. At the present, we estimate Kasimasta to be nearly ten thousand solar masses in size, with an event horizon more than one hundred fifteen thousand miles in circumference and over eighteen thousand miles in radius.”

 

I let out a low whistle. A monster that big could swallow Earth without so much as a burp. Hell, even Uranus or Neptune could fit into its maw. And I didn’t have to ask Jas to know that even a near-miss could be deadly; the accretion disc spinning around the ergosphere of its outer event horizon could exterminate all life upon a planet, while the intense gravitational pull of the hole itself would cause massive solar flares to erupt from any star it passed. No question about it, Kasimasta was a killer.

 

“Please don’t tell me it’s on its way toward Earth,” I murmured.

 

Heavy-lidded eyes regarded me with contempt, as if I’d asked a selfish question. “That is of no concern to you,” Jas replied. “The Annihilator passed your home system long before your race became civilized.” I breathed a little easier, and the Prime Emissary went on. “Nonetheless, it poses a real and present danger to this part of the galaxy. Even as we speak, it is approaching another inhabited system.”

 

Again, the holo image changed. Now we saw a schematic diagram of a star system, with a large gas giant in its outer reaches and a couple of terrestrial-size planets orbiting closer to its sun. “This is the star you know as HD 70642,” Jas continued. “It is located one hundred thirty-six-point-six light-years from our present position. Its second planet, Nordash, is home to a starfaring race known as the nord.”

 

As heshe spoke, a thin red line appeared within the system’s outer edge, slowly moving toward the superjovian. “Kasimasta has recently entered this system,” Jas continued. “In four days, its course will bring it very close to the gas giant, Aerik, where it will consume Kha-Zann, a large moon in orbit around it. Although the Annihilator will not encounter Nordash, nonetheless the nord are evacuating as many of their people as possible, in expectation that its passage will precipitate a planetary catastrophe.”

 

“Smart thinking.” I nodded. “I wouldn’t want to...”

 

“Be quiet.” Once more, the holo changed, and now we saw a close-up of Aerik’s satellite system. “The Talus has decided that this event, as unfortunate as it may be, represents an opportunity for us to gather precise information about Kasimasta. For this purpose, the hjadd have designed and built a robotic probe that can be deployed upon a planetary surface. This probe, once activated, will relay scientific data via hyperlink until the moment of its destruction.”

 

“Right...” Ted hesitated. “Let me guess. You want this probe deployed on the moon that the Annihilator will consume.”

 

“This is correct.”

 

“And, of course, you’ve found the perfect candidate for the job of putting it there.”

 

“You have made the correct assumption.”

 

“Uh-huh. And this probe ... it wouldn’t already be aboard, would it?”

 

Jas’s head weaved back and forth. “It was placed within the cargo hold of your shuttle earlier today, while Mr. Youssef was still asleep.” When heshe said this, I shook my head. Doc wasn’t going to like that one bit. “We did so in the belief that you would undertake this mission voluntarily,” Jas went on. “Unfortunately, since you refused to do so...”

 

“You didn’t bother to tell us until now.” I sighed. “Great. And I get to be the guy who carries it down there.”

 

“Jules...” Ted shot me a look, and I clammed up. “You realize, of course, that this makes the job even more hazardous. Why can’t we simply drop it to the surface from orbit?”

 

“Some of its instruments are intended to register and record seismic activity leading up to Kha-Zann’s disintegration. Because of this, the probe is designed to be carefully placed on the surface. Otherwise, it is a very simple procedure. All Mr. Truffaut will need to do is unload the probe, carry it a short distance from his craft, and activate it. This should take only a few minutes.”

 

Ted didn’t respond. He seemed to think about it for a few seconds, then he looked at me. “Your call,” he said quietly. “I can’t make you do this, you know.”

 

Of course he could. He was the captain, after all. And even though Morgan had already fired me, I was still a member of his crew. Besides, there were two other people aboard qualified to fly Loose Lucy; if I chickened out, either Emily or Ali could handle the assignment. So he was offering me a way out of what could well become a suicide mission.

 

Yet that was out of the question. I had gotten us into this mess; I had the moral obligation to get us out of it. Ted knew this, as did I ... and so did Jas, come to think of it, because there was no other reason why heshe would’ve summoned me to hisher quarters in the first place.

 

“Sure ... why not?” I shrugged, feigning a casualness that I didn’t feel. “Sounds like fun.”

 

“Very good.” Jas switched off the pad; the holo vanished, and heshe turned to retrieve hisher helmet from where heshe had slung it in a bulkhead net. “Let us then return to the command center, so that I may set course for Nordash.”

 

Heshe paused, then stopped to look back at us. “I am very happy that you have agreed to do this, Captain Harker. I did not wish to die in this place.”

 

“Yeah, well...” Ted seemed to be at a loss for words. “I’m not sure you gave us any options.”

 

“On the contrary, I did.” A stuttering hiss that sounded like a snake’s laughter. “It is only that none of them were acceptable.”

 

(CONCLUSION NEXT ISSUE)