Алан Дин Фостер - Relic

“Something I think you should see.” Beneath her heavy brows her eyes were glittering. “Something I think everyone should see. Recording will ensure that they will, though they will have neither the joy nor the astonishment that comes with actual physical proximity.” Without further explanation she all but pulled him away from his resting bench. In her mind urgency overrode the incivility.

Once outside and again confronted with the source of so much recent anxiety and confusion, he understood her insistence without having to have it explained to him.

The impervious door blocking entry into the mountain had risen to expose the tunnel beyond. The smooth, illuminated passageway looked exactly as Bac’cul remembered it save for one difference.

It was crowded.

The specimens Ruslan and Cherpa led the way. They were joined by a human male of indeterminate age whose mat of facial hair reminded Bac’cul of Ruslan’s appearance the first time the researcher had encountered Seraboth’s sole survivor. These three were followed by others. Hundreds of others. Having spent much of his professional life studying human history in the hopes of one day being fortunate enough to encounter a single live human, Bac’cul was overwhelmed by the sight that now swelled before him.

How extraordinarily different they are from one another! he reflected. In height and girth, in epidermal tinting and hirsuteness, in facial features and physical structure. Such diversity within a single species and even within the same gender was unknown among the Myssari and all other civilized races. It was as if the fine details of the species’ genetic code ran rampant over reason. Why should one be so much taller than another, or darker, or wider? It made no sense, but to a specialist like himself the bewildering parade offered an abundance of delights.

Having spent fruitful decades among the Myssari, Ruslan was able to hazard a guess at the thoughts that must be going through the researcher’s mind. Grinning, he gestured toward his and Cherpa’s unanticipated companion.

“Bac’cul, may I present Nashrudden Megas Chin. A scientist of his time, recently revived. Together with a few of his closest friends and colleagues.” He translated for the newly resurrected scientist. “I think you two would work well together.”

Having been properly introduced, the dazed Bac’cul responded automatically with the traditional Myssari embrace. Nashrudden flinched but otherwise accepted the three-armed clinch manfully. Having arrived in haste to join the group, Cor’rin followed with a greeting of her own, as did Kel’les. Formalities concluded, Ruslan and Cherpa proceeded to fill in the astonished Myssari on everything they had learned.

They had almost finished when the attention of human and Myssari alike was diverted by the hum of an arriving air transport. It was larger than the one that had preceded it. The anxious troops who emerged to be greeted by their few still-stunned surviving comrades were more heavily armed than their predecessors. They had been prepared to confront a Myssari scientific team and perhaps a pair of humans. Met by the sight of more than a thousand of the latter, all apparently as healthy as they were diverse, their commander and his suborns were taken aback as to how to proceed.

Taking pity on them and fully sympathizing with their shock, Bac’cul took it upon himself to make the next set of introductions. The Vrizan officer struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. In contrast, the human Nashrudden appeared utterly at ease with the arrival of a new set of aliens.

“So these are the Vrizan?” he asked Cherpa. “The species you said is desirous of laying claim to and settling Earth?” When she nodded confirmation, the scientist walked directly up to the Vrizan commander. They were of equal height, Ruslan noted, and, craniums aside, truly more alike than human and Myssari.

“Tell him, if it is a him, that the people of Earth are returning from a long sleep to reclaim their homeworld.”

She translated into Myssari, and then back again when the Vrizan replied via his translator. “Commander Kanathel Uri Eln extends his greetings and wants to know how many people of Earth are going to return.”

“We are but the first of many. All returns start small. Tell him.”

She proceeded to do so. Physically capable of far more facial expression than a Myssari though less than a human, the Vrizan honored himself with as extreme a variety of facial tics and contortions as Ruslan had yet observed in one of his kind. When the commander finally found his voice again, it was to put another question to the human via Cherpa.

“Assuming your claim was to be upheld by the relevant authorities, he wishes to know what you would plan to do with the existing settlements the Vrizan have worked hard to establish here.”

Nashrudden met the alien’s gaze as evenly as he could. “Tell him that while I must consult with others of my kind, I see no reason why they should not remain. There are many… empty spaces… that could do with the ameliorating touch of civilization. Any civilization. Devastating as it is, a mass die-off of one’s own kind is a powerful argument for future cooperation.” When Bac’cul started to object, the scientist added that the Myssari were welcome to establish similar projects of their own. “All assistance will be gratefully welcomed. It may be hoped that we have knowledge we can share with you as much as you can share with us. The knowledge of the living,” he concluded, “to complement that of the dead.”

While not entirely happy with the human’s assertions, the Vrizan saw no civilized means of contesting it. It was not for a minor functionary like Kanathel to decide anyway. The rendering of such momentous decisions was the province of his superiors. He was glad it was so. It was not a decision he would have wished to make on his own. When all communication with the field team that had preceded him failed, he had been ordered to assemble a rescue team and proceed to the site at speed. It is safe to say that whatever he was expecting to find, the presence of hundreds of live humans, with more continuing to file out of the tunnel every minute, had not figured into his planning.

Was the human who spoke no Myssari telling the truth when he claimed there would soon be many more of his resurrected kind spreading out across this world? Though rather more aggressive than the Myssari, the Vrizan were no less ethical than their tripodal rivals. The commander knew there could be no valid excuse to mount a war for a world that was being reclaimed by its original inhabitants. Additionally, the collective wisdom of a race that had successfully settled dozens of worlds was surely worth far more than any single habitable planet. If the human scientist was to be taken at his word, his kind were willing to freely share much of that knowledge. It behooved the Vrizan to begin the relationship on good terms with them. Lastly, his people were far more firmly established on the human homeworld than the awkward Myssari.

Trusting the human female to continue translating honestly, he raised one hand and turned it upside down in presentation to the revived scientist.

“You are most generous. I personally look forward to assisting your people in fully reclaiming this world.”

“As do the Myssari,” put in Bac’cul hastily. Though no diplomat, he could evaluate a critical situation when he saw one. “The Combine will provide you with any and all the help that you need.”

“As will the Vrizan.” Commander and research team leader glared at each other.

Leaving the two alien representatives to engage in an ongoing confrontation that was chilly but polite, the three humans edged away to greet and explain the current situation to as many of the revived as they could.