Charles Sheffield - Transcendence

“That’s what we’ve heard. You’re the best.” And the only one crazy enough to take the job, Rebka thought. But flattery cost nothing.

“I am, sir, the very best. No use denying it, Dulcimer is the finest there is. And your own name, sir, if I might ask it?”

“I am Captain Hans Rebka, from the Phemus Circle. This is Louis Nenda, a Karelian human, and our Cecropian friend is Atvar H’sial.”

Dulcimer did not speak, but the great eye blinked.

A silent message passed from Atvar H’sial to Louis Nenda: This being seems unaware of his own pheromones. I can read him. He recognizes you, and Rebka was a fool to mention that you are in his party. This may cost us.

“And now, Captain,” said Dulcimer, “might I be asking where it is that you want to be taken?”

“To the Torvil Anfract.”

The great eye blinked again and rolled toward Louis Nenda. “The Anfract! Ah, sir, that’s a bit different from what I was given to suppose. Now, if you’d told me at the first that you were wanting to visit the Anfract —”

“You don’t know the region?” Rebka asked.

“Ah, and did I say that, Captain?” The scaly head nodded in reproof. “I’ve been there dozens of times, I know it like I know the end of my own tail. But it’s a dangerous place, sir. Great walloping space anomalies, naked singularities, Planck’s-constant changes, and warps and woofs that have space-time ringing like a bell, or twisted and running crossways…” The Polypheme shivered, with a spiraling ripple of muscle that ran from the tip of his tail up to the top of his head. “Why would you ever want to go to place like the Anfract, Captain?”

“We have to.” Rebka glanced at Louis Nenda, who was standing with an unreadable expression. They had not discussed just how much the Polypheme would be told. “We have to go there because there are living Zardalu in the spiral arm. And we think they must be hiding deep within the Anfract.”

“Zardalu!” The croak rose an octave. “Zardalu in the Anfract! If you’d excuse old Dulcimer, sirs, for just one minute, while I check something…”

The middle arm was reaching into the pink corset, pulling out a little octahedron and holding it up to the bulging gray eye. There was a long silence while the Polypheme peered into its depths, then he sighed and shivered again, this time from head to tail.

“I’m sorry, sirs, but I don’t know as I can help. Not in the Anfract. Not if there might be Zardalu there. I see great danger — and there’s death in the crystal.”

He is lying, Atvar H’sial told Nenda silently. He shivers, but there is no emanation of fear.

Louis Nenda moved closer to the Cecropian. Rebka’s telling him about the Zardalu, he replied.

Then Dulcimer does not believe it. He is convinced that the Zardalu are long-gone from the spiral arm.

“But see for yourself, in the Vision Crystal.” The Polypheme was holding the green octahedron out to Hans Rebka. “Behold violence, sir, and death.”

The inside of the crystal had turned from a uniform translucent green to a turbulent cloud of black. As it cleared, a scene grew within it. A tiny Dulcimer facsimile was struggling in the middle of a dozen looming attackers, each one too dark and rapidly-moving to reveal any details as to identities.

“Well, if you can’t help us, I guess that’s that.” Rebka nodded causally, handed the octahedron back to the Polypheme, and began to turn away. “I’m afraid we’ll have to look elsewhere for a pilot. It’s a pity, because I’m sure you’re the best. But when you can’t get the best, you have to settle for second best.”

“Now, just a second, Captain.” The five little arms jerked out of their slings all at once, and the Polypheme bobbed taller on his coiled tail. “Don’t misunderstand me. I didn’t say as how I couldn’t be your pilot, or even as I wouldn’t be your pilot. All I’m saying is, I see exceptional danger in the Anfract. And danger calls for something different from your usual run-of-the-arm contract.”

“What do you have in mind?” Rebka was still as casual as could be.

“Well, surely not just a flat fee, Captain. Not for something that shows danger… and destruction… and death.” The great eye fixed unblinking on Rebka, but the tiny bead of the scanning eye below it flickered across to Louis Nenda and rapidly back. “So I was thinking, to make up for the danger, there should be something like a fee, plus a percentage . Something maybe like fifteen percent… of whatever our party gets in the Anfract.”

“Fifteen percent of what we get in the Anfract.” Rebka frowned at Louis Nenda, then looked back at the Polypheme. “I’ll need to discuss this with my colleagues. If you’d wait here for a minute.” He led the way back to an inner room and removed his goggles. “What do you think?” He waited for Nenda to relay the question to Atvar H’sial.

“At and I think the same.” Nenda did not hesitate. “Dulcimer recognized me and he knows my reputation — I’m pretty well known in this part of the Communion — so he assumes we’re off on a treasure hunt. He’s greedy, and he wants his cut. But since what we’re likely to get in the Anfract is a cartload of trouble, and that’s about all, so far as I’m concerned Dulcimer can have fifteen percent of my share of that any time he likes.”

“So we take his offer?”

“Not straight on — he’ll be suspicious. We go back in and tell him five percent, then let him haggle us up to ten.” Louis Nenda stared at Rebka curiously. “Mind telling me something? I had At prompting me, ’cause she could read Dulcimer pretty good. But you saw through him without that. How’d you do it?”

“At first I didn’t. He should never have brought out that dumb ‘Vision Crystal.’ Back in the Phemus Circle the con men used to peddle the same thing as the ‘Eye of the Manticore,’ and claim they had been stolen by explorers from the Tristan free-space Manticore. All nonsense, of course. They’re nothing but preprogrammed piezoelectric crystals, responding to finger pressure. They let you look at maybe two hundred different scenes, depending where and how you squeeze. A kid’s toy.”

Atvar H’sial nodded as Rebka’s words were translated for him. He is smart, your Captain Rebka, she said to Nenda. Too smart. Smart enough to endanger our own plans. We must be careful, Louis. And tell this to the captain: Although the Polypheme is sly and self-serving, his pretenses are not all false. My own instincts tell me that we will meet danger in the Anfract; and perhaps we will also meet death there.

The negotiations with Dulcimer took hours longer than expected. Hans Rebka, aware that the Erebus was huge and powerful but ungainly and restricted to a space environment, while the seedship though nimble was small and unarmed, insisted that the Chism Polypheme should include the use of his own armed scoutship, the Indulgence , as part of the deal. Dulcimer agreed, but only if his share of whatever was recovered from the Anfract was increased to twelve percent.

A binding contract was signed in the Sun Bar’s offices, where half the space business on Bridle Gap was conducted. When Nenda, Rebka, and Atvar H’sial finally left they found E.C. Tally at the entrance. He was addressing in fluent Varnian the Hymenopt who guarded the door, politely requesting permission to enter.

The Hymenopt was unresponsive. To Hans Rebka’s eyes, she seemed fast asleep.

E.C. Tally explained that it was the hundred and thirty-fifth spiral arm language that he had tried, without success. The embodied computer was pointing out that his chance of eventual communication was excellent, since he had a hundred and sixty-two more languages at his command, plus four hundred and ninety dialects, when the others dragged him away to the seedship.