Northern Stars Read online

  “I know,” Elena said. Nothing inflammable was carried on an Amsu, and foreign bodies stored and recycled their own wastes. :What is worrying him, Zaf?:

  :Dear lady, I never pry. That is your business.: Mild ESP chuckle. :But I think he must have some idea why you are here.:

  Elena Cortez, an enthusiastic student of interterrestrial relationships, had the unhappy task of telling people where to get off. When a new colony was seriously disturbing the ecology or the native civilization of a planet, no matter how perfect it might be from the point of view of its settlers, she had GalFed authority to ask it to shift, remove, or disperse itself. She had no power to shift or remove it herself, nor to threaten to do so. Otherwise she would not have lived through many tacky situations. She was a distant early warning. She warned gently, listened to impassioned arguments calmly, and almost always succeeded at the unpleasant work. When she did not succeed, she accepted refusals gently. The colony, if endangered, was left to itself; if it was a danger, it was left to legal, political or military authorities. Those who rebuffed Elena always lived, or did not live, to learn better.

  * * *

  Amsuwlle spun gently against the flow of planetary debris. Unlike her hearts, the grooved excurrents on her sides worked in co-ordination jetting silvery threads of vapor to keep her on course. She was shaped like a vegetable marrow, and from a distance seemed just as smooth. Closer she was dappled with pale light-sensors and huge opalescent patches; closer yet her skin was ridged and grooved in a brain-fold pattern; it was flexible but firm. At her mouthless front end she had a sensory network fine enough to taste a single microgram, at the rear end an ovipositor, midway two intake siphons and an excretory tube. She excreted compacted nuggets of titanium, tungsten, vanadium, selenium and other useful metals. Because of that she was protected by GalFed and men rode her along her jagged path, spraying her eggs to keep down fungus and scraping calcareous deposits off her arteries.

  * * *

  Since she did not expect to stay long, Elena carried one coverall in her waterproof bag. It was of the good grey stuff GalFed fitted its surveyor teams with, and she had painted a pattern of leaves and flowers all over it; it was sufficiently incongruous in the tiny dayroom, lined in polythene, where one lamp hung overhead and every once in a while the amoeboid shape of a cell or parasite, swimming free in tissue fluid, flattened itself against the translucent wall.

  There was room for only one more at the table; the men’s heads almost knocked against hers: Roberts, the research geologist, whose beard bristled an inch away; Zaf hanging in coils from some kind of rack and looking like a caduceus; Dai Jones, a little dark wiry man, the only miner of the lot; and round-faced Takashima, the heir to an electronics firm who was taking a look at one of the sources of his components. Hearts beat around them in endless pulses of disharmony.

  :You have all been happy here, Zaf?:

  :Oh indeed all Solthrees love the Amsu. For myself of course it is east, west, home is best. That is an apothegm of our philosopher-king Nyf.:

  :It’s well-known; his fame travels far.:

  :Now you are laughing at me, Elena.:

  :Never, Zaf. You know I don’t behave that way. I am always happy to learn how closely distant peoples think.:

  She said aloud, “Perhaps you know why I am here. You can see I have never boarded an Amsu before, but I am taking over liaison in this sector because your regular, Par Singri, is ill with fungous bronchitis and I am subbing.”

  “I thought Zaf was our liaison,” Jones said.

  “Between you and Amsuwlle, yes. Here I am liaison between the Amsu and Zaf at this end and GalFed at the other.” She squeezed the last drop from her bulb of tea and refilled it.

  “What’s the emergency?”

  “There have been delays in rendezvous with ore carriers. Amsunli was four standard days late on her last trip and Amsusdag two days.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Hell, you get delays in all kinds of space shipping, and the Amsu aren’t machines, they’re animals.”

  “They have been charted for fifty years … in the last three years more than half the deliveries have been delayed. And there is more. Twelve days ago Amsutru was going to meet with the ore carrier Raghavendra. Then nine days late she is found squashed in a mess against Asteroid 6337 with her crew dead, every one, and also a prematurely hatched larva burrowing through her siphon.”

  A small silence. Jones clasped his hands tightly. “Amsutru? My God, Jack Tanner was on her. I knew him.”

  “No man has ever died on one before … and, you know, there are not that many Amsu—never more than twenty-five at once.”

  “A freak accident,” Roberts said.

  “Yes, maybe.”

  “But you’re here. You expect something to happen here.”

  “Oh, I hope not. But … you are thirteen days out and twelve to go … you are eighteen hours behind schedule. You have been aware of that, haven’t you?”

  “Sure we’re aware of it! We get course checks on radio from the space-light transmitters.”

  “What do you expect to do about it, Dr. Cortez,” Jones asked. “We can’t give the old lady a kick in the shins.”

  “Has anything odd happened?”

  “Not that we know. We figured everything was going all right.”

  “That’s likely true. But still, Amsutru is gone, and you can understand why GalFed is concerned.”

  “But what do you intend to do?” Roberts asked.

  “Well, no one has ever turned an Amsu around, have they? Maybe we will not have any more delay, and I will just look around and have a nice ride.”

  Takashima laughed. “I think you will end up doing jobs like us, Dr. Cortez. Amsuwlle has no room for tourists.”

  “But if there is trouble?” Roberts persisted.

  “I would hope, gentlemen, that we would all be able to get the hell off.”

  * * *

  “Well, Zaf…” They were alone, and Elena did not feel she had done very well. She was a small dark woman from Venezuela, very delicately boned, with thick black hair falling to her shoulders. Her ancestry was a mixture of all the local peoples, and her skin color balanced light brown with terracotta. Happily mongrelized, she had the knack of making herself at home among very disparate peoples, but she did not normally handle the complaints of ore shippers, especially ones who shipped on Leviathans. “I am a fish out of water,” she said.

  “I think you have another image in mind,” said Zaf, as Amsuwlle’s liquid pulses thudded.

  “Well, I am very … no, I am not discouraged. This is odd. I feel quite calm.”

  “Good.”

  “But I should not be. I heartily dislike this assignment—”

  “Since I asked for help, I am afraid I am to blame.”

  “Oh no! It is Par Singri who was stupid enough to get sick. He would have done better here. I enoy being with you, and I have nothing against Amsuwlle, but I do not like to be in places where things are always throbbing and bubbling … yet I am calm.” She clasped her wrist and studied her watch. “My pulse is normal.”

  “Then I suppose that is not so good.”

  “Now you are laughing at me … but I admit I am being irrational.” She looked around till her eye lit on the waste container with its empty bulbs. “Some kind of drug? I don’t know which one of those is mine.”

  “There are no drugs on board—oh, Roberts brought some Banaquil for his nerves, but he stopped using it after the first few days, and no one has touched it. It is a prescription drug. He considers it a weakness to take pills and had only enough to last the trip.”

  “I have no drugs except a little painkiller for an ear infection because I was afraid being underwater would start it again … but I feel a little sleepy … and a little dull. Have the men behaved strangely? Have they changed at all since they came on board?”

  “They don’t quarrel at all and that is strange for Solthrees—but on the Amsu they are never together long enou
gh.”

  “Do you feel different since you have been here?”

  He shifted his tanks. “Let me damn well tell you I miss my mud, and this synthetic stuff is wishy-washy to a disgusting degree.”

  Elena laughed, but when he had gone, she collected four of the discarded bulbs and took them to her cabin.

  * * *

  She sat on her bunk and looked at them. There was a drop or two in each. Elena, you are just being stupid. She turned the faucet set into the living wall, drew a little water into a cup and tasted it. It was deliciously cold and good, otherwise not unusual in any way. Yet, she did not feel quite herself. Of course you should feel tired from what you have been through, and any other effects are probably from spinning on this creature. Even your old friend Zaf thinks you are an idiot.

  :I do not.:

  :Now you are prying!:

  :Elena dear, however stupid you may think you feel, it is a fact that Amsutru got lost and we are behind schedule. You were chosen to come here on very good ground and even the wildest suspicion you have must be checked out.:

  :Good, Zaf. Now I may let my fantasy run wild … you know the Limbo is pacing us?:

  :I am aware of it. How long is Threyha giving us her kind attention?:

  :Until I can find her an answer, querido.:

  :I hope she will not be bored on such a long slow trip.:

  :Ask her how to modify our equipment to test the water for Banaquil and also three or four of the main tranquilizer groups. Try out the liquid in these bulbs and also the main water supply … and, oh yes, we do have distilled water for emergencies?:

  :Indeed, but a canister will take quite a lot of your cabin space.:

  :I am traveling light, and I am not expecting company.:

  There was nothing else to do but try to sleep. Even with the drowsiness it was not so easy with all the distractions in the very walls.

  Then think about water.

  What the Amsu produced was regularly tested—between trips. On board it was Zaf’s task to make sure it was maintained to GalFed specs, but he checked for substances poisonous to Solthrees and his own Yefni, not psychotropic drugs that wouldn’t have any effect on him.

  Roberts’ Banaquil had not been touched. Outside source. She threw out politics, plots and pirates. The arrangements with the Amsu were the results of agreements among many peoples; the profits were parceled out equitably. She knew the sector very well; it was thoroughly patrolled, and local rivalries kept to a minimum. No one had ever stolen ore. The Amsu were happy to be well cared for; they were not particularly intelligent, but they had some ESP and knew ways of containing and rejecting substances—and persons—they thought might do them harm.

  She went to sleep, finally, among the bubblings and thuddings, the pale wash of phosphorescence over the walls, the huge living engine of a sentient being.

  * * *

  A call to the unconscious woke her, and she opened her airlock. It was a tiny chamber almost fully occupied by Zaf, coiled around a canister of distilled water.

  “There is Banaquil in the water supply, five milligrams per liter, and in all of the bulbs too. Nothing else, you may be thankful.”

  “I may, but I think I am not. Who is putting it in?”

  “Elena, this is hard to explain, Amsuwlle is synthesizing it. Who could put it in when Roberts’ supply has not been touched? The others don’t even know of it.”

  “But … why? And how did she get it? All the wastes are recycled. From sweat?”

  “I can show you, I think. Will you let me squeeze into your cabin for a moment?”

  Inside, he bent his head low and with the sharp tip of a horn drew a gash between two of his black rings.

  “Zaf!”

  “Don’t be frightened. I heal fast.” He pulled the cut apart with a sinuous movement, and a globule of viscous yellow blood dropped slowly to the floor. It lay there a moment, spread slightly, and in a few moments sank without leaving a mark, absorbed. “Roberts cut himself on one of his instruments. Oh, nine or ten days ago … she knew of his drugs, and his nervousness, through me, probably…”

  “And picked it up from that tiny specimen?”

  “Very simply. She tracks ore fields by traces as small as one microgram. She is just as sensitive within.”

  “But why?”

  “Oh dear … can you not guess? Because of the quality on which all of our mining operations depend.” He gathered his coils together and began to move backward out of the cabin. “Amsuwlle loves to please.”

  “Wait!” She gave him a hard look, very difficult because the eye band ran around his head, and there was no place to bring a focus to bear. “You know of such things that have happened before.”

  “That’s true, I don’t deny it.”

  “And you have reported them?”

  “Of course, Elena! They proved of great interest to anatomists and psychologists … administration did not find them worrisome.”

  “What kind?”

  “One of the first Amsu we used grew an extra heart to deliver more heat and oxygen to this part of her body for our sake—and incorporated the change in her genetic material … would you find that worrisome?”

  “I think … one day, perhaps, it might be.”

  “Possibly. Now I will let you finish your sleep. I must work.”

  “Wait. What about the Banaquil?”

  “It can be gotten rid of—with tact—and do you think it wise? Of course it cannot have been in the water longer than ten days, and there is no worry about withdrawal symptoms with such small amounts … and the men are disturbed enough now. Whatever you choose.”

  Elena paused. “You must help me decide. If things are left as they are, we may fall farther behind.”

  “Something must change. We have introduced a new element—yourself, my dear. And I doubt—I do not know what an opium den is, but you have a thought about men lying around asleep—I doubt that is what happened with all the other delays. The drug is only one factor in this unhappy situation.” The lock door closed behind him.

  And beyond it came a furious thrashing and thumping.

  :Zaf, what is it? What’s wrong?:

  :She refuses to open up. I cannot get through the valve.:

  :Come back in here.:

  :I am required to take accounting of the stores, and believe me, you and I will not be comfortable together in one cabin for any length of time.:

  :I am not very comfortable myself right now. I will come out.:

  :If you wish, though I doubt it will help. Bring your oxygen.:

  * * *

  The crew quarters were in a storage area off the posterior intestinal canal, a blind sac divided mainly by natural walls partly fortified by inert plastics. A little airlock with an artificial opening had been built into each cabin. Elena’s lock had two other openings: one to the neighboring lock and a natural one to the great water conduit Zaf was trying to get out to.

  :Go through to the other lock,: Elena said.

  :That would be difficult. It opens outward and it is full of water.: He hunched up a coil and slammed it against the rubbery valve into Amsuwlle’s belly. Elena ran her fingers over the puckered surface trying to find give in it. There was none.

  :Why is she doing this?: She was not afraid of enclosed spaces, and for the moment was too curious to be frightened.

  :I am trying to find out, if I can be allowed to think.:

  :Think good, Zaf. Think mud.:

  :I am going to make mud if I don’t get out of here pretty damn fast.:

  For all that he looked like a cross between a worm and a python Zaf was vastly different from either. He could wind but not slither: his integument was a single helix of cartilage, a powerful and fairly rigid casing with not much give between its whorls. His two horns curved one to the front and one to the rear, and on his home planet he wound through the mud like a corkscrew or a post hole digger; the muscular black spring of his body was strong enough to pierce shale and sandstone as we
ll. He could rip Amsuwlle’s internal tissues more easily than he had slit his own.

  Perhaps that consideration reached some important ganglion in Amsuwlle’s constitution, for after a moment the valve opened with an elastic blap and a rush of water and debris slammed against them. Zaf whirled away to his tasks. :Not very polite,: was his only comment.

  :But you haven’t told me why!:

  :Oh Elena! Can you not understand? She needs us!:

  * * *

  Elena wrung out her leotard and wrapped herself in a blanket.

  She needs us. Us = Jones, Roberts, Takashima—and Zaf. They serve, she provides. She does not need me. I am the interloper (and keep it down and far back now ((who may take them away))). And Zaf? He is disturbed. Can I trust him, my friend of so many years? Yet he called for help, he brought me here—and who else is there?

  * * *

  “There is nothing in the men’s psych reports to suggest abnormal bonding with the Amsu.”

  She and Zaf were alone in the dayroom. Since there was no real night or morning, everyone chose his own schedule. Elena drank coffee sparingly and ate something that seemed to be moistened chicken feed. She had no intention of living solely on distilled water derived from recycled wastes.

  “Of course not. They are all within normal range. Roberts is thirty-eight years old, a bachelor, helps support old parents, lady friend nine years no immediate plan to marry, takes pleasure in playing music on some kind of blowpipe with group of people, mild frustration and resentment common to age and situation—among Solthrees.

  “Takashima is twenty-seven, married with two children, overindulges in food, generally content, only complaint he has no one to play Japanese chess with.

  “Dai Jones, forty-one, comes from large family now scattered, impoverished background, hard worker, divorced no children, unfortunate experiences with women, feels or is unattractive to them.

  “Make of that what you will, I don’t know what it means. I have no time to lie around in loops and chatter. I must work.”

  “I will come with you.”

  * * *

  She followed, bubbling and gasping in the cold vaults, while he zapped suspicious-looking amoebae with antibiotic bullets and used a strigil like a giant squeegee to scrape and collect calcium fibers from the walls of the pale blood vessels that Amsuwlle obligingly emptied for him one by one.