The Course of Empire(134)

Aille keyed the ship's lock to cycle open. "They are unpredictable, if that is what you mean."



"Will we be able to breathe?" Kralik asked. Tully detected a trace of nervousness in the general's normally stoic military bearing.



"Most likely," Aille said, "although I examined several accounts where the Ekhat either forgot to provide a breathable atmosphere, or deemed it unnecessary."



Caitlin got to her feet and shivered. "What did the envoys do?"



"They died," Aille said.



Yaut nodded him curtly into the front. Tully realized with a start that, following Jao protocol, the three humans would have to go through that damn hatch first. He closed his eyes and reached for composure. No matter what it took, he wasn't going to look weak in front of the Jao.



"Like this," a soft voice whispered in his ear. He looked sideways to see Caitlin Stockwell canting her head just so, shifting her weight to a back leg that was straight while her front was bent, her unbroken arm curved with the fingers extended at precise angles. "Calm-assurance," she said, then turned to Kralik on her other side. "Try it. You'll look better, even if you don't really feel it."



Tully exhaled and tried to emulate her stance, head, arms, legs positioned as she demonstrated. The wild beating of his heart eased, but the sickening thrill of adrenaline still rocketed through his body.



Instead of opening, the outer lock simply disappeared in a little yellow flash. The interior of the little ship was flooded with blue so intense, Tully could taste it as a raw bitterness. The air, though breathable, was suffocatingly hot and reeked of oils and tortured bearings.



"Now," Yaut said, "we exit."



There was sound too, like a whole chorus of machines grinding metal against metal. Tully stepped into the open hatch and looked out. Suspended globules of red light played throughout the cavernous space while in the distance dim shapes flitted here and there. He swallowed, trying to orient himself.



"Go!" Yaut said. "Firsts are critical. We must not show fear."





Chapter 31




Tully stepped through, Caitlin following, Kralik at her side. The overheated air was so torrid, it was like walking into a wall of heat. By his estimate, the temperature was at least 120 degrees Fahrenheit, maybe higher.



The three emerged at the top of the courier ship's extended ramp and were engulfed in a stinking miasma. Skunk marinated in rotten eggs, Tully thought. His eyes watered until he could hardly see. At least this ship had artificial gravity, though it was much less than Earth standard. His foot seemed to float back down to the ramp each time he picked it up so that he felt like he was moving in slow motion and on the constant edge of losing his balance. "Where do I go?" he asked without turning around.



Two of the shapes in the distance oriented on the Jao ship and moved toward it. "Stop at the bottom of the ramp," Aille said from behind. "There is no need to go farther. They will probably come and speak to us, though there is the possibility they will not."



"And if they don't?" asked Kralik.



"Then protocol suggests we wait," Aille said. "Communication has still been known to occur when flow was slower than expected, though sometimes it does not happen at all. There has been conjecture in those instances that the envoy was unable to properly judge the flow of that particular moment."



On Tully's other side, Caitlin was performing calm-assurance again. It was an alien ritual, but . . . Tully shrugged, and did his best to copy her. Curve the fingers, he told himself, distribute weight between the front and back feet, arch the neck.



The creatures continued to approach and he began to appreciate how very large they were and how truly immense this landing bay was, too. If an aircraft carrier could have fit through the aperture, a destroyer escort on either side would fit in this central chamber. It must have taken up a good portion of the entire ship. Floating spheres hovered overhead, flashing brighter and more intense with every passing moment. Tully's head was reeling.



Calm-assurance. He concentrated on the stance, holding to it, letting his eyes unfocus, choosing not to see, or at least, not to lose himself in, the visual fireworks. Sweat drenched his blue jinau uniform, plastering the fabric to his back.



"Are those the Ekhat?" Caitlin asked, her voice almost lost in the escalating noise.



"Yes," Aille said.



"But there's only two," she said. "On such a large ship, I thought there would be more."



"No doubt there are," Aille said, "but these are the only two they have chosen to debase through contact with us. Perhaps they would sacrifice only one, except their minds function in pairs. It has never been possible to speak to only one Ekhat, as you would a Jao or human."