Страница 5 из 57
Without reasoning it through, Jindigar simply Received that this swarm of clicking quasi-rodents was here because, months ago, the colony had—on the advice of a subform of the Oliat– discouraged several other hives from settling near the colony. They had accidentally created an ecological vacuum—and the Holot had topped it off by sending out an irresistible reek of food on the winds. Thus the hive entity perceived this as their rightful dwelling place.
Krinata whimpered deep in her throat and sagged against Cyrus, who threw Jindigar a piercing look. Jindigar ignored both touch and glance, and reset the linkages, muting the information flow to Krinata. She could not modulate for herself. During her first encounter with full Oliat awareness, she had nearly lost her sanity. She was the Oliat's weakest officer.
"//Cy,//" said the Oliat through Krinata, "//the Guard Commander must order cease fire. They're making it worse.//"
Subliminally, Jindigar realized he'd chosen to send Cyrus as much to separate him from Krinata as to convey the message. But he concentrated the Oliat awareness now on the living black wave undulating above them in stu
Jindigar turned the maintenance of the linkage level of the Oliat over to Za
Llistyien had let herself become part of that perceived beauty, one with the life-dancing surging rhythmically above them. She Emulated that rhythm for them, making it part of the Oliat self-perception, and the subtle magic of the Oliat took over. An Oliat was an observer—perceiving only, never acting on the environment.
To the entire Oliat Jindigar a
Long, long beats of time passed as the defenders continued to fire. Part of the pattern the Oliat now observed was the argument between Cy and the Guard Commander, a Cassrian who didn't believe in the Oliat's powers and who had never trusted Jindigar. Finally, the Commander leveled his weapon at the unarmed Outrider and spat, "You're interfering with our operations. I told you to move!"
"Has the Oliat ever let you down?" Cy did not flinch but merely returned the Cassrian's gaze levelly.
"That's not the point—those things are killing people!" whistled the Commander in a reedy but trained voice.
"The point is to stop them. Firing at them is obviously not doing any good. May as well fire at a smoke cloud."
The Cassrian waved a claw-hand, then clicked it against his carapace in frustration. "What else is there to do?"
Cy drew himself up to his considerable height, somehow looking authoritative despite his formally decorated shirt flapping over his work trousers. "If you can't trust the Oliat, then trust me. I will take full responsibility, and if necessary, I will deal with Terab."
Cy had no true official standing in the elected hierarchy of the colony, but he had been head Outrider to the Oliat that had preceded Jindigar's. He was known and respected among the earliest settlers, but this Cassrian was one of the later comers.
Nevertheless, Cyrus Benwilliam Lord Kulain had been raised to both military and civilian command.
The Cassrian was no stranger to dealing with humans. It took only moments for him to realize that he'd been outclassed. He raised his weapon and signaled the cease fire.
Jindigar and the Oliat felt Krinata's glow of admiration, which quickly threatened to make Cyrus a hero. That sent a discomforting prickle through Jindigar, and he distracted them back to the job.
Enraged by their dead dropping all around them, the flyers suddenly discovered that their opponents had become defenseless. As one, they bent to furious destruction.
//How can we attract their attention?// Darllanyu, in the Office of Formulator, had the answer. He opened to her and let her create within their field of observation an image that was both there and not there. It was not illusion, for it had been there, and had been real, a year ago and was still part of the colony's identity, an image lurking in the back of everyone's mind.
Over their perception of the colony, Darllanyu Formulated the dome of a giant hive, a dome of gray blocks, the dwelling of the dominant intelligence of this plane! they called Phanphihy. Eithlarin, Jindigar's Protector, added her strength to that projection—for the hive's dome was its means of protection, and this image had been a gift of the Natives to be the colony's protection.
Gradually, the fury of the swarm's attack abated, and one section at a time, the flying wave broke off and swept around in a circle, their instincts confused. Their primitive vision showed nothing changed. Scent and sound showed nothing changed. Yet somehow the group mind controlling them finally sensed a wrongness. Their species did not coexist with the dominating intelligence.
The formation swept around and around, clicking loudly, their wings slapping the wind. They formed a vertical cone with its point right over Jindigar's head. He shifted now, to bring Venlagar's Reception into play.
Venlagar Received the bloodied corpses and the fierce rage of the offworlder warriors. A clickerhive did not belong here. Life here would mean destruction.
Jindigar reflected that only on Phanphihy, a planet that was virtually an Oliat itself, could his amateurish Oliat close the circuit between observer and observed without Inverting the Oliat function. Here even the lowest of beasts could read other species' perceptions.
Seeking another cave suitable to the clickerhive, Jindigar, directed Venlagar's attention north along the cliff face. At the extreme edge of their range of perception, a good three days'* walk to the north, they found a deep cave high up on the cliff. Jindigar observed that cave as if they were being tested for an Aliom Degree, stretching their newly enlarged range to the utmost.
He forgot their problems with impending Renewal, forgot the awkwardness of using a human Outreach, forgot the pre.-carious condition of the colony, brushed aside the very concept of self-defense, paid no attention to how this mess was his responsibility, and observed that cave's perfection as a clickerhive home.
None of them noticed the intensifying of the noon sun beating down on them, none of them shivered when the cliff shadow engulfed them, and none of them felt the chill spring rain sluicing down at sunset. Around them, Storm and Cy kept everyone away as the colony resumed cautious movement, tending the wounded, collecting the dead from under the shadow of the circling cone of death, and retiring under their roofs to watch from their windows.
The last daylight was fading when the cone of hive warriors flattened, then lifted and began floating northward, filling the sky with their patterned dance, letting instinct draw them toward a suitable home.
Just begi