Implacable, page 12
He didn’t have to try to look both innocent and affronted. “I didn’t. I have no idea why the Dancers extended the invitation at this time.”
“We’ve been trying to get them to agree to a visit,” Rycerz said. “A visit by me, and members of my staff who are trained in social protocols and can observe the details we need to know about the Dancers. And instead they invite you.” She looked to one side, checking something in her office. “You and Desjani were closely involved in the Dancer visit to Old Earth.” Rycerz squinted at whatever she was reading. “What is this Kansas mentioned in the report? Is that a star?”
“It’s a place on Old Earth, where the Dancers returned the remains of the ancient human astronaut.”
“Why Kansas?”
“It was his home.”
“Oh.” She read something else. “What about . . . Stone . . . hen . . . gee?”
“Stonehenge,” Geary said. “Another place on Old Earth.”
“What does Stonehenge have in common with Kansas?”
“We visited both places,” Geary explained. “Tanya Desjani and I, and the Dancers who came to Old Earth to return the astronaut’s remains. They wanted to go to Kansas, and were invited to Stonehenge among other places on Old Earth. Perhaps this invitation is seen by the Dancers as reciprocal. We were their hosts when they visited Old Earth, so they want to be hosts to Captain Desjani and me on a Dancer planet.”
Rycerz made a face. “That’s plausible.”
“Captain Desjani and I,” Geary added, “are the only humans in this fleet who were present at Kansas and Stonehenge.”
“Hmm. That does fit.” The ambassador sat back hard. “I’m proposing other people, from my staff, for the visit. We’ll see how the Dancers respond to that.”
“All right,” Geary said.
“You’re not objecting?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head to emphasize the word. “I have no problem with someone else getting that opportunity. But I also don’t have much confidence that the Dancers will change their invitation.”
* * *
THEY didn’t.
A few days later, Geary stood in the shuttle dock aboard Dauntless, waiting for Tanya and trying to convince himself to be grateful that the Dancer invitation had distracted him from worrying about Sapphire and those aboard her. Ambassador Rycerz had come to the battle cruiser in person for the historic mission, because this was the first time humans would be setting foot on a world occupied by the Dancers. “You’ll be recording everything that happens on the surface?” she asked Geary anxiously, then flinched. “I’m sorry. I know your off-duty relationship with Captain Desjani. I don’t expect you to record everything.”
“That won’t be an issue,” Geary assured the ambassador. “This isn’t a private getaway. We’ll be on duty for this entire trip, so there won’t be anything going on between Captain Desjani and me that wouldn’t be suitable for recording.”
Rycerz looked around to ensure no one else was close. “It’s not very diplomatic of me to admit it, but I don’t think being surrounded by Dancers would make anyone feel amorous.” She shook her head. “Please remember your instructions. It is critically important that nothing is said or promised or implied that the Dancers would take as commitments on our part. We’ve given you some stock replies to use if any diplomatic issues come up.”
“All of them referring the Dancers back to you and your staff for answers,” Geary noted. “With so many limits on what I can say, I’m not sure I can even engage in small talk with the Dancers.”
“The weather is usually a safe topic,” Rycerz said, absolutely serious. “But don’t criticize the weather. Not even ‘it’s a little chilly’ or ‘the sun is bright.’ They might take that personally as criticism of the world they’ve occupied.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Geary said, practicing trying not to sound sarcastic.
He must have been successful because Ambassador Rycerz nodded in approval. “If it gets too difficult to handle, we can cut this visit short. You have a stress word set up, right?”
“Yes,” Geary said, knowing that Rycerz would love for the short visit to be cut even shorter so she wouldn’t have to worry about him or Tanya creating a major diplomatic incident. But she also deserved to know he had taken reasonable precautions. “If I mention Major Gilbert Bougainvillea it will mean I’m worried but we don’t need to be pulled out yet. If I ask them to pass a message to Captain Elizabeth Moon, it will mean we need to get lifted out of there as soon as possible. Only if I say the word ‘Mameluke’ will it mean the Dancers might oppose our extraction. I have no reason to expect to need that, but we still had to plan for the worst.”
“We cannot afford any violence with the Dancers,” Ambassador Rycerz said. “Especially not after what that Syndic flotilla did. And especially after seeing what the Wooareek can do. We need the Dancers as allies.”
“We won’t be responsible for any violence,” Geary said. “Even if I activate Mameluke it will only mean they come in expecting the possibility of being shot at. It will not authorize returning fire. Captain Duellos, in charge of the fleet while I’m on the surface, has been clearly informed that he cannot order any firing on Dancer ships, facilities, or individuals without your express approval. Duellos can be counted on to follow those instructions.”
“Good. It’ll only be for two days and one night, but I doubt I’ll sleep the entire time for worries about what might go wrong.” Rycerz looked to one side, where a display showed the planet that Geary and Desjani would be heading for. “Why do you still do it, Admiral? A century in survival sleep. You lost everyone you’d ever known. You lost the universe you knew. I’m not sure I could’ve held myself together afterwards.”
“I nearly didn’t,” Geary said. “But . . . I was needed. And even though my brother was gone . . . I still wanted him, and the rest of my ancestors, to be proud of me.” He heard a sailor call out, “Captain’s on deck!” and saw Tanya Desjani walking toward them. “And I found new people to not replace but carry on for those I’d lost.”
“I see.” Ambassador Rycerz nodded in greeting to Tanya, who like Geary was wearing a fleet service dress uniform. Also like him, she had a standard-issue bag slung over one shoulder holding essentials for their trip to the surface. “Good luck to both of you. There are a lot of people who wish they were in your shoes.”
“There are also a lot who are glad they’re not in our shoes,” Geary remarked. He tapped his comm pad. “This is Admiral Geary. Captain Duellos is now in command of the fleet while I visit our Dancer friends. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
That essential task done, he walked onto the waiting shuttle along with Desjani, hearing the bongs of the ship’s bell that heralded the ancient announcements identifying both him and Tanya by their professional roles. “Admiral, Alliance fleet, departing. Dauntless, departing.”
They strapped into their seats as the shuttle ramp closed. “I’m glad that we’re taking an Alliance shuttle down instead of a Dancer ship,” Geary remarked.
“It might make the transition more abrupt when we step off and are surrounded by Dancers,” Desjani replied.
“All of my uniform’s weapons have been deactivated, right?”
“Removed,” Desjani said. “There wasn’t any sense in risking any incidents involving even deactivated weapons. We don’t know how the Dancers would’ve reacted to your even having them. But the defenses are still active.”
“Hopefully the Dancers won’t take offense at that.” Geary took a long, slow breath as the shuttle lifted and left the shuttle dock, twisting around before firing its main propulsion to put it on a vector toward the planet below. “Nervous?”
“Nah,” Tanya said. “I’ll try to act as if Black Jack himself is my commander,” she added, citing one of the sayings the fleet had adopted during the century when Geary was assumed to be dead.
“Did you have to say that?” Geary asked.
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
The compartment they were in was separated by a bulkhead from the flight deck where the pilots were, but displays before them showed a view from the front of the shuttle, as well as the situation in nearby space. Geary watched a half-dozen small Dancer ships swoop gracefully around the human shuttle, weaving back and forth in a display of agile movement that clearly showed why sailors in the fleet had named the species Dancers.
Escorted by the Dancer ships, the shuttle entered atmosphere, Geary abruptly feeling the sense of history fill him. Despite his earlier casual dismissal of the importance of this moment to the ambassador, he fully realized how significant it was. Humanity’s encounters with the enigmas and then the Kicks had been marked by attacks and, so far, unrelenting hostility. Some of the fleet’s Marines had been on the surface of a Taon-controlled world, but in an isolated location where they could learn little about the Taon. Victoria Rione had met a single Dancer in person during their first encounter with Dancer ships, but that had been a brief meeting in an air lock. This would be the first time any human had set foot on a world controlled by the Dancers. This would be the first time humans visited a city built and lived in by a different intelligent species.
As they neared touchdown, and the landing field came clearly into view, a different feeling filled him. There were perhaps a dozen Dancers lined up to one side of the field. Behind them was a large open structure of rods resembling a gigantic jungle gym, and filling the gym were a lot more Dancers. Hundreds of them, at least. It must be the Dancer equivalent of human grandstands.
“Ancestors,” Tanya Desjani breathed as she took in the sight.
“They’re not hundreds of giant hairy spiders with wolf heads,” Geary said. “They’re an intelligent, friendly species.”
“I’ll keep telling myself that.” She glanced at him. “Have you ever wondered whether we’re as hideous-looking to the Dancers as they are to us?”
“I don’t think so. I guess I should have.”
“I’m going to concentrate on thinking about those Dancers who went to Old Earth,” Desjani continued. “Surrounded by millions of two-legged, bare-skinned, two-armed, worm-fingered monstrosities. And what do we smell like to them? If they could do it, so can I.”
He didn’t mention what she knew as well as he did, that the Dancers who came to Old Earth had never left the small craft they had used to come to the surface and move around on it. At the moment, looking at what seemed to be a massive pile of huge spiders awaiting them, he wished the two of them were going to do the same thing.
“Is that a Taon?” Desjani said, pointing.
As they drew closer, the single figure had grown more visible. Tall and wide in human terms, heavily built but basically human-shaped, the Taon was a welcome sight amid the Dancers.
“Do you think they’re one of Lokaa’s people?” Desjani asked.
“Most likely,” Geary said. “We still don’t know very much about the Taon, but Lokaa seems to be the Taon leader the Dancers prefer to work with. And since Lokaa has said they trust us, having one of their people here would be good for us.”
“Maybe we can ask the Taon about the Wooareek.”
“I’ll be looking for a chance to do that,” Geary said, trying to focus on the needs of the moment and not on the large number of Dancers awaiting their arrival. “Let’s activate all of our personal sensors and recording devices. From this moment on, we’re always going to be onstage until we lift off the surface again.”
“Got it,” Desjani said, activating the sensors and recorders embedded in her own uniform. “Are you sure the Dancers agreed to us being loaded with surveillance devices?”
“General Charban swore the Dancers had given unequivocal approval for it.”
The shuttle grounded with only the faintest jar, the human pilot doing her best to fly as gracefully as the Dancer ships did. “The air here is okay. Are you ready for me to drop the ramp, Admiral?” the pilot called to them, her voice sounding as if she expected Geary to say hell no and order her to take off again as fast as possible.
“Yes, drop the ramp,” Geary said. “After we leave, seal it again. We’ll see you tomorrow.” The pilots wouldn’t suffer even though they’d be confined to the shuttle for a couple of days. There was plenty of room inside for them to stretch out, a lot of onboard entertainment and reading options, and decent rations to heat up and enjoy. For them, this visit would be more like a two-day campout.
As the ramp fell, the air outside swept into the shuttle. Geary smelled the scent of vegetation, along with an aroma that reminded him of words Victoria Rione had spoken after breathing the air when she became the first human to physically encounter a Dancer. Spicy, she’d said. Not too sharp or pungent. Almost pleasant.
“Is that the Dancers?” Desjani said cautiously as she also breathed in the outside air.
“I think so. Not bad, is it?”
“Like some of those spice sticks they burn in Benten Star System,” Desjani said.
“Ready?”
“Yes, Admiral. I’m telling myself it could be worse. There could be a whole bunch of lawyers waiting for us out there.”
“That’s the spirit.” Geary, as required by his rank, led the way out of the shuttle, Desjani only one step behind.
SEVEN
THE sky outside was a pale blue, streamers of high clouds reflecting a sun that felt a little too dim by human standards but still left this part of the planet’s surface comfortably warm enough at this time of day for a human in long sleeves or a coat. The vegetation seemed to be mostly dark green shading to almost black, what appeared to be large insects rather than birds flitting above treelike plants beyond the landing field.
But Geary had little time to take in his surroundings. The line of Dancers waited, facing him, each Dancer looking even bigger than he remembered. Though they stood on multiple legs with an abdomen almost parallel to the ground, the Dancers were still about a meter and a half tall and about two meters wide from leg tip to leg tip. Their fur, ranging in shade from dull gray to shiny black that had glints of blue in it, covered much of their bodies, including the heads, which were mostly wolflike except for the six eyes.
Like the first Dancer they’d encountered in a distant star system, these all wore brightly colored bands of what looked like silk cloth wrapped about them.
They looked terrifying. And beyond the line awaiting Geary and Desjani was that Dancer jungle gym / grandstand literally crawling with hundreds more Dancers.
Geary inhaled deeply and began walking toward the Dancers, Desjani coming up to walk beside him.
How close was he supposed to go to them?
Getting no signal from the Dancers, Geary stopped about two meters from them.
“Honored we both are,
“By your kind invitation,
“To visit your world,” he said as clearly as he could, spacing out each set of words to make it clear he was using a haiku format. He had no idea how long he’d be able to keep speaking in any approximation of poetry or other rhyme, but at least he could greet the Dancers appropriately.
A rustling sound came as the Dancers facing them rubbed claws together.
“I hope that’s applause,” Desjani said with a bright, fixed smile.
One of the Dancers advanced.
Geary waited as the Dancer stopped directly in front of him. The foreclaws reached out, grasping Geary behind the shoulders, drawing him slightly closer as the Dancer raised up to touch their forehead against Geary’s face. Geary held the contact, wondering if he should breathe, feeling stiff fur touching one side of his forehead and bare Dancer skin touching the other side, the small tentacles inside the Dancer’s claws drumming lightly against the skin of his shoulders. The primeval monkey in the back of his mind screamed about spiders and snakes and monsters, but Geary tamped it down, trying to keep his heart from racing.
Releasing him, the Dancer stepped back slightly, then edged over to face Desjani.
“Hi,” she said, the broad smile still fixed on her face. Geary noticed her eye nearest to him twitching slightly, but otherwise Desjani held herself rigid as the Dancer embraced her in the same way as they had Geary.
Then the other eleven Dancers did the same to both of them. Repetition didn’t make the experience any easier.
The first Dancer finally spoke, words understandable to humans coming out of a device it wore.
“Welcome human friends,
“Our world greets you here this day,
“Happy all our hearts.”
The Dancers didn’t wait for any reply, returning to their line.
The Taon stepped forward, raising both open palms in greeting. “Darus,” the Taon said, the words coming out of their own translation device worn on the chest, “surrogate to eight-legs. Hello, friend of Lokaa.”
“Surrogate?” Geary said. “I guess he means ambassador or representative.” Addressing the Taon, Geary held up one hand. “Hello, friend. We are happy to see you.”
The Taon made the O-shape with their mouth, which seemed to be the Taon equivalent of a smile. “Eight-legs think you more happy/comfortable with Darus.”
So the Dancers understood that humans might be discomforted at being surrounded only by Dancers. But Geary didn’t want to openly admit that even if it was an unspoken truth. “We are happy with all here.”
This close, in tandem with the Dancers, it was possible to see that the Taon translator was a bit larger than that of the Dancers, and to judge that the translations felt stiffer. Clearly, it wasn’t a shared technology, but something each species had developed.
The twelve Dancers who had greeted them beckoned to Geary and Desjani before turning and walking toward a very wide low-slung vehicle with open sides.
