Zach Hughes - The Legend of Miaree

Seeing the telltale figures, he looked up at Untell. His face, which had been downcast, brightened. She nodded, understanding.

But the Overlady had questions.

"My Lady," Bertt said, "you can see. For an instant we had it. For a measurable instant we were in control of a force which staggers the imagination."

"Dear Bertt," the Overlady said. He lowered his eyes. He did not like the use of terms of affection. That was a Delanian characteristic, and unbecoming in an Artonuee. "When you approached me on this subject, telling me of the possibilities, I warned you then that we have no time for pure research. We have present capability to fulfill our plans. We must concentrate on the known. Your services are badly needed. The services of the worthy Untell have been sorely missed. How much longer can we spare you?"

A month, Lady. Give us another month. We are so very near." He bowed respectfully.

"No longer, Bertt. In one month the engines will be ready for installation in the first of the giant star ships. In two months, another fleet arrives, and your knowledge will be much in demand as we share our progress with the newly arrived scientists."

"Yes, Lady," Bertt said, shifting impatiently. Red tape, he was thinking.

Bureaucratic thinking. He longed for the peace and quiet of his world as it had been before the arrival of the aliens, altered that to wish for unlimited time and the help of his new friend, Untell. Give them a month, a year, and they would beat God, the bureaucrats, and space itself.

Evening. A swollen, yellow sun half-high. Five’s South Cold. Desolate. Beautiful. Humidity in the air tinged golden yellow, bursting, flaring, raying the sun’s light into streaks of red-gold fire and shadows on the ice ranging from black to purple and, far away, his movement. He was one of a restless breed. But, oh, Lady Mother, God of Artonuee, he was beautiful.

Lost from view behind an ice upthrusting. A hint of the cold loss of sadness in her until he reappeared, nearing.

Bundled into cold-wear, he appeared to be a furry beast picking his way across the eternal ice, and try as she might, she could not bring her eyes to lower, to study the urgent reports lying on her knees. She was desolated without him. The basic chemistry of her blood cried out for him.

"Lady," she mused aloud, "You are in a position of responsibility." Thus driven, she picked up the first report.

At New Nirrar, on the western equatorial land mass, a clash between two groups of females. Words. Reliable witnesses reported that the Delanian women had first resorted to violence. However, one witness, a reliable Artonuee male, said that the violence was the result of dire provocation on the part of the Artonuee females, who taunted the Delanians as animals of the ancient past, bringing their young into the world bloody and wet with vile body juices.

The Artonuee male, one Bruun, technician, said in his statement: "Seeing that an incident was brewing I, as a responsible adult male, tried to avert unpleasantness. Speaking only logic—" How very malelike, Miaree thought, "I tried to dissuade the emotional women and females from further insults and was rewarded by being called a rather derogatory Delanian name, a name with which we males have become familiar

through the discourtesy of the aliens, a name I choose not to repeat."

For the record, the investigating official had inserted an explanation. Bruun, the technician, was called a cannibal, referring, of course, to the instinctive behavior of the Artonuee walkling in consuming the iffling-preserved flesh of a homecomer.

"At this juncture," Bruun continued, "one of the females rose unnecessarily to my defense, saying words to the effect that I, Bruun, was a respected member of the Artonuee community and not subject to ridicule by creatures who carried their young living in their bellies. Before I could speak, blows were exchanged."

Angrily, Miaree tossed the report aside.

Rei was near. She rose, waved. She keened the love greeting and received, in answer, a loud shout. Then he became interested in a curious ice formation, and she, with a sigh, picked up the discarded report. The females involved were wing-flaunters, of course. She used the term in her mind without censure, for her own wings were outside her cloak.

She dictated recommendations. Extra work tours for the Artonuee females. Punishment to be deemed just for the Delanians by the Delanian local Board of Control.

Next, a request from Plant Seven for a rush allotment of diamond drills.

For the first time in years she remembered her rock, the rock she’d discovered in the asteroid belt so long, long ago. She chastised herself for forgetfulness, for diamonds were in great demand, made a mental note to check her old flight log for the coordinates of the asteroid and to send a driver, priority class, to mine the jewels.

It was amusing, in a way. Once the diamond asteroid had meant only more flight time to her. Now it could aid in the greatest undertaking ever conceived by the best minds of two great races.

A progress report on installation of engines in the first giant star ship, revolutionary engines, engines which were a direct result of her alliance with Rei, the Delanian.

But, Mother God, she was tired. She lidded her eyes. Her head rested on

the velvety cushion of her chair and she allowed herself the luxury of pure idleness. Musing, she remembered Rei’s excitement.

She was taken back, in memory, to Outworld. The first days. The golden flush of joy at their first merge. The splendor of love. Love. A word which was now as much Artonuee as Delanian. Love. A sweet sound on the lips. A touch. The electric stir of fur to the touch of a skinned hand, a hand so strong, so tender. Then, time had no meaning. Then, before the arrival of the first fleet and the nervous confrontation of two separate races, it was only Rei and Miaree and the flood of well-being which his kiss engendered in her and the pleasure of shared knowledge and intimacies and endless days of talk as they sat, or lay, or walked in the Bloom and then, with Mother Aglee becoming querulous in demanding a report, the lovely flight from Outworld to New World and the pride she felt in Rei when he mastered the techniques of flying so easily. It was then, during the long, upwind flight, that he discovered the possibilities. As Miaree and Rei merged into one, so the technology of the two races merged and brought forth not dead-flesh eggs, but a triumph of engineering. For the mires expander and the converters, lowering, as they did, the mass of the flyer, eliminating inertia, fitted with the fusion engine of the Delanians as Rei fitted with Miaree.

When she explained, he fell into deep thought, and suddenly, ignoring the view of New World ahead, he was busily scratching figures and formulas and trying to explain to her that with nearly zero mass a ship could be pushed to twice the current speeds of the Delanian drivers. Moreover, the limitations on the size of a star ship were completely removed. With the new system, a ship could be built as large as technology allowed, as big as a planet.

Changes. Vast upheavals in thought, in the Artonuee way of life. The area of space which could be explored was suddenly doubled. A single technological breakthrough, a single instance of cooperation between races, and a civilization groaned and, in spite of the obstructions of the priests, began a change which would affect every individual on four worlds.

There were times, during the hectic course of a day, when she wished for the old, peaceful times when God was God and the Fires were there, unchanging, eternal, approaching with deadly slowness. She had almost snared the fears of the priests when, with near-silent and awesome power,