Transcendence

The two-way flow continued, beyond J’merlia’s control, until his mind had no more information to offer and no more power to absorb. At the end of it came a few moments of peace.

And then arrived the time of ultimate agony and bewilderment.

The pain during the fragmenting of J’merlia’s mind had seemed unbearable. He realized that it had been nothing only when the awful process of mental coalescence and collapse began.

Chapter Eighteen

In a small, guarded chamber far beneath the uncharted surface of Genizee, surrounded by enemies any one of whom was fast enough to catch her if she ran and powerful enough to tear her apart with its smallest pair of tentacles once it had caught her, Darya Lang sat cross-legged on a soft, slimy floor and made her inventory.

Item A: One Chism Polypheme, too terrified to do more than lie on the ground, moan, and promise complete obedience to the Zardalu if only they would spare his life. Dulcimer, stone-cold and cucumber-green, was a pathetic sight. In that condition and color he would never do anything that required the least trace of courage. And he was getting worse. His master eye was closed and his spiral body was coiling down tighter and tighter.

Conclusion: Forget about help from Dulcimer.

Item B: One embodied computer, E.C. Tally. Totally fearless, but also totally logical. Since the only logical thing to do in this situation was to give up, Tally’s value was debatable. The only things in his favor were his ability to talk to the Zardalu and the fact that for some reason a few of them held him in a certain respect. But until there was reason to talk to the Zardalu, forget about help from Tally.

Item C: One Lo’tfian. Darya had known J’merlia for a long time, long enough for his reactions to be predictable — except that here on Genizee his behavior had become totally out of character. Abandoning his usual self-effacing and subservient role, he had become cool and assertive. There was no telling how he would react to any new demand. At the moment he had become inert, legs and eyes tucked in close to the pipestem body. Forget about help from J’merlia.

Was there anything else? Well, for completeness she ought to add:

Item D: Darya Lang. Former (how long ago and far away!) research professor on Sentinel Gate. Specialist in Builder constructs. Inexperienced in leadership, in battle, or even in subterfuge.

Anything more to add about herself?

Yes. Darya had to admit it. She was scared. She did not want to be in this place. She wanted to be rescued; but the chance that Hans Rebka or anyone else would gallop out of the west and carry her to freedom was too small to compute. If anything was going to be done, Darya and her three companions would have to do it for themselves.

And it would have to be done soon; for in a little while the Zardalu chiefs would return for her answer to their proposal.

She levered herself to her feet and walked around the perimeter of the chamber. The walls were smooth, glassy, and impenetrable. So was the domed ceiling. The only exit was guarded by two Zardalu — not the biggest and most senior specimens, but more than a match for her and all her party. Either one could hold the four captives and have a passel of tentacles left over. They were wide-awake, too, and following her every move with those huge blue eyes.

What right did they have to hold her prisoner and to threaten her? Darya felt the first stirring of anger. She encouraged it. Let it grow, let it feed on her frustration at not knowing where she was, or how long she had before death or defeat was forced upon her. That was something preached by Hans Rebka: Get mad. Anger drives out fear. If you are angry enough, you ca

And when all the rules of the game say that you have already lost, do something — anything — that might change the rules.

She went across to where E.C. Tally was leaning against the wall.

“You can talk to the Zardalu, can’t you?”

“I can. But not so well, perhaps, as J’merlia.”

“I would rather work through you. I want you to come with me now, and explain something to those two horrors. We have to tell them that Dulcimer is dying.”

“He is?” Tally stared across at the tightly coiled, now silent form of the Chism Polypheme. “I thought that he was merely afraid.”

“That’s because you don’t have Polyphemes in your data banks.” This was no time to teach E.C. Tally the rudiments of deception and lying. “Look at the color of him, so dark and drab. If he doesn’t get hard radiation, soon, he’ll be dead. If he dies, it will complicate any working relationship we might have with the Zardalu. Can you explain that to them?”

“Of course.”

“And while you are at it, see if you can get any information on where we are — how deep beneath the surface, what are the ways back up, that sort of thing.”

“Professor Lang, I will do as you ask. But I feel certain that they will not provide such data to me.”

“Do it anyway.”

Darya followed Tally as the embodied computer went across to the two guarding Zardalu. He talked to them for a couple of minutes, gesturing at Dulcimer and then at Darya. At last one of the Zardalu rose on its tentacles and glided swiftly out of the chamber.

Tally turned back to Darya. “There are sources deeper in the interior, sufficient to provide Dulcimer with any level of radiation needed. They do not want Dulcimer to die, since he has already promised to be a willing slave and assistant to the Zardalu. But it is necessary that senior approval be obtained before radiation can be provided.”

Deeper. It was the wrong direction. “Did you ask them about where we are?”

“I tried to do so. Without success. These Zardalu are difficult to talk to, because they are afraid.”

“Of us?” Darya felt a moment of hope.

“Not at all. They know they are superior to us in speed and strength. The guards here fear the wrath of the senior Zardalu. If they make a mistake and fail to carry out their duties properly, that will be punished—”

“Don’t tell me. By death.”

“Precisely.” Tally was staring at Darya with a puzzled expression. “Professor Lang, may I speak? Why do you wish me to ask questions of the Zardalu about ways out of here, when such inquiries will surely arouse their suspicions as to your intentions?”

Darya sighed. The embodied computer might be regarded as a big success back on Miranda, but that was not a world where mayhem and bloodshed ruled. “E.C., if we don’t find a way out of here, we have only two alternatives: we make a deal with the Zardalu that sells out humans and every other race in the spiral arm; or we don’t make a deal and we are pulled to pieces and fed to the Zardalu infants. Clear enough now?”

“Of course. However…” Tally seemed ready to say more, but he was interrupted by the return of the messenger Zardalu. The other one came to pick up Dulcimer, poked J’merlia awake with the tip of one tentacle, and gestured to Darya and Tally to move on out of the chamber. They descended a broad staircase and moved down another ramp, always pe

The Zardalu holding Dulcimer turned to click and whistle at Tally.

“It wants to know the setting,” the embodied computer said. “It assumes you want Dulcimer in that.” He gestured to a massive item that stood close to one wall.

Darya went across and examined it. It was some kind of reactor, it had to be. The thickness of the shielding suggested that its radiation would be rapidly lethal to humans or most normal organisms. But Dulcimer was far from normal. What level could he tolerate, or even thrive on? She knew what she wanted, a dose big enough to fill him with pep and confidence, the same fearless bravado that he had shown when he flew the Erebus into the middle of the Torvil Anfract. Then, with his active help, the four of them might be able to handle a Zardalu — not two, but one; and that would take some careful arranging, too. Finding the right-sized dose was the first step, but it was going to be a matter of purest guesswork.