Shadow World (6 page)

"But when I saw Shissar drop it, that day at dinner," he'd reminded Rob today, "instinct took over. My cultural background said not to let such a beautiful thing break, and it completely overrode the knowledge I had. Even though Shissar's family forgave me, what if I'd broken a taboo that strong with a culture less"--he'd searched for words--"flexible, less tolerant than the Mizari? That one incident could have caused irrevocable harm!"

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He'd shaken his head at the memory. "Good intentions just aren't enough."

Mark felt that his instincts had failed him again with Jon Whittaker ... or rather that they had failed Jon.

Thirteen months ago, in the middle of the school's artificial night, with incredible coolness and misguided courage, sixteen-year-old Jon Whittaker had slit the veins in both wrists and both ankles. The next morning Mark had opened the bathroom door and found his roommate's nude body sprawled halfway out of the bathtub, as though Jon might have changed his mind and been trying to summon help--too late.

"I should have seen it coming," Mark had repeated over and over during their subsequent sessions. "I should have guessed Jon would try something. He was so down. Why didn't I see? I might have stopped it!"

"It was my job to see it coming, and I didn't." Rob didn't try to conceal the bitter regret in his own voice. "We've talked about this before, Mark. It will haunt both of us until we die, I expect, but if anyone is to blame, I am. I'm the counselor. I'm the doctor. You were just Jon's friend, and believe me, you were the best friend anyone could have been to him." He straightened his shoulders with an effort. "I learned long ago that you have to forgive yourself and go on, or you're no use to anyone. You've got to learn to let it go, Mark."

The younger man nodded. "I know. I think I was learning to, when my mom ...

died. That brought it all back again, more painfully than ever."

"Mark, I think you should try looking at your remaining unaware of your mother's illness as
her
triumph, rather than
your
failure."

Mark looked thoughtful, as though that had never occurred to him before.

Rob pressed his momentary advantage. "She went to great lengths to keep from burdening you with that knowledge," he pointed out. "It would have broken her heart if she thought her decision to keep her ill health a secret led to the end of your dream. And don't forget, Mark, your becoming an interrelator was
her
dream, too."

Now, standing in the empty conference room, Rob gave a long sigh. "He agreed with every single damn word I said," he muttered, "but not one of them changed his mind."

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He's just too conscientious,
the doctor thought.
But he doesn't realize that
that very quality will make him a topnotch interrelator. I know he's got the
courage to live with the risk and carry that burden. But I've got to make Mark
realize that, too.

Bast padded through the doorway and meowed loudly. Rob turned to face her.

"Which is why," he announced solemnly to the cat's unblinking green eyes,

"I'm going to talk Kkintha ch'aait into going along with my ... plan. After all, it's not as though I
arranged
to have the Elpind drop in for a visit." He smiled faintly. "Can I help it if the timing just happens to be right?"

37

Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3

Tapped!

The crowd hopped, flew, scuttled, loped, and jostled its way down the corridor toward the Arena.

All these different kinds of beings, all in motion together, all excited. Great
stuff for my documentary,
Cara thought, excited herself. She turned her head from side to side, trying to see everything, wanting her camera to capture all of this, the most colorful, exotic crowd she'd ever been in.

This is going to be a wonderful lead-in for my coverage of the Elpind's visit.

Hundreds of beings practically stampeding to the assembly so we can all get
our first look at yet another species from the galaxy's incredible variety.

Carried by the crowd's momentum, Cara plunged into the noisy melee of the Arena. Large enough to hold the entire student body and faculty at one time, with movable floors, adjustable gravity, and a sound and light system that put Earth's finest arts or sports complex to shame, the Arena was a gymnasium, the low-grav hang-gliding site, a theater, and even an ice-skating rink. Right now, it was a bowl-shaped assembly hall with seats of various configurations for alien forms rising away in stacked layers from the low center stage.

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The noise level was almost uncomfortable as the students poured in. Cara smiled at the strange mixture of sounds that so many alien tongues created.

Grunts, whistles, gutturals, clicks, and growls mingled with more musical tones, producing a fascinating cacophony. Underlying it all was the ever-present sibilant hiss of the Mizari language. Cara caught a sudden whiff of overripe melon as two Vardi conversed in their olfactory-based language.

The young journalist considered where to sit. She'd made several friends in the weeks since her arrival, and one of them, a Simiu, was waving at her now. She began to make her way toward Frrkk'eet, then hesitated as she noticed another familiar face two rows over.

She hadn't seen Mark Kenner except to wave at in passing since the day he'd introduced her to his friends as he'd promised. But then he'd rushed away, leaving her with them, explaining that he had to cram for a makeup test. Waving back at the Simiu, Cara indicated her new direction.

"It's a good thing I'm not doing my documentary on
you,"
she said with a grin, dropping into the seat next to him. "You went into hiding on me."

Mark laughed. "I told you from the very beginning I'd be a poor subject. No, really, I have been in hiding. Getting my coursework caught up," he explained. "How is the documentary coming?"

"Really well. Everywhere I look there's something new and interesting to film."

He raised his eyebrows.
"Film?"

Cara grinned. "A figure of speech. Of course nobody has used actual
film
for centuries ... but the term lingers on. Anyway, I think the only time I turn the camera off is when I'm in bed. And, of course, the chance to interview the Elpind ... I can't wait!"

She watched Mark as she spoke, noticing something different about him. He looked more relaxed, more at peace with himself.

"So, besides the coursework, how are you?" she asked, wondering if she dared say what she really meant.
Why not?
she decided. The journalist in her still wanted to discover the story she sensed in Mark Kenner. "I mean,"

she added,

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"you look ... uh, happier, I guess, than when I saw you the other day."

"You mean, happier than when you saw me waiting for the shrink?" He grinned to take any implied sting out of his words.

His smile was marvelous, warm and high-powered, Cara noted. The impact of it distracted her for a moment. When she recovered, he was saying, "...

and so, I made a decision. You know, you always feel better when you've made up your mind what to do about a problem."

"What problem? What did you decide?"

"Whoa! My turn to ask a question. Don't you need to be down front to film this?"

"Dr. Rob let me set up a second camera on stage. They always record special events like this anyway, so I'll just piece together the best footage from the different cameras. That leaves me free to go for crowd shots with my autocam."

Cara paused, wondering whether she should let Mark get away with

changing the subject. But just as she was about to try again, a hush, ripe with anticipation, abruptly fell over the Arena. She looked down at the stage and saw the school's Administrator, the Chhhh-kk-tu named Kkintha ch'aait, step to the small podium to begin the assembly.

Cara had begun to pick up a smattering of Mizari, but this was too important to miss a word. Hastily she switched on her voder.

"... and I think you are all aware," the Administrator was saying, "of the disclosures made ten months ago by the CLS concerning Elseemar. The people of Elseemar, the Elspind, following several years of limited interaction with CLS sociological teams, recently expressed an interest in visiting and learning about other worlds. The CLS agreed to sponsor the visits, and as a result, the WirElspind, Elseemar's governing body, chose ten of their members for this very special mission.

"These representatives are the first to ever leave their planet. Their reports will have a major impact on the people of Elseemar, as well as future relations between Elseemar and the Cooperative League of Systems."

I
know all this,
Cara thought impatiently, forcing herself not to wriggle in her seat.

"StarBridge has been given the honor of receiving a

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visit from one of these Elpind emissaries. Students and faculty of the Academy at StarBridge"--Kkintha ch'aait paused for emphasis--"I would like you to welcome Eerin."

Cara jumped to her feet, clapping as hard as she could. So did Mark. Since every student in the Arena was just as eager to express delight and since every species had its own way of doing so, the uproar was astonishing.

The being who stepped out into view didn't exactly "step." Instead it bounded out, skipped across the stage, then skidded to a halt beside the Administrator. Even from halfway back in the huge Arena, Cara could feel the boundless energy radiating from the small creature.

The alien was humanoid, with a head, two arms, two legs, and upright carriage. Cara couldn't distinguish facial features from where she sat, but she noted that the head appeared uncomfortably large and startlingly round in contrast to the thin, angular frame. The effect was softened somewhat by the cream-colored down covering both head and body.

Cara compared the Elpind with the Chhhh-ick-tu. Adult Chhhh-kk-tu, on the average, stood about as high as her collar. The Elpind was about the same height but there the similarity stopped. Kkintha ch'aait was rounded and densely furred and, while smal , looked solid and stable. The Elpind, thin and much more lightly furred, appeared fragile in contrast.

Cara wondered at its age. Its sex she knew ... or rather, she knew about its lack of sexual identity. Recent newscasts about the scheduled visits had revealed to the general populace of the CLS for the first time that Elspind were either male, female, or neuter, and that all of the ten emissaries were neuters. They would be referred to with the Elspindlor pronoun for neuters,

"hin," the Mizari journalist had reported.

The noise was finally dying down. The Administrator spoke again.
Still in
Mizari,
noted Cara.
Hin isn't wearing a voder, therefore Eerin must know
Mizari.

"Our students represent the Fourteen Known Worlds of our galaxy, Eerin.

More than that, they are the finest young people their planets have to offer.

They come here to form a very special community and to learn how to advance the peace and prosperity of all systems. The welcome you heard means they are eager to make you one of them."

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It happened all over again: the yelling, the clapping, the barking and whistling and hissing and yipping and stamping.

Kkintha ch'aait waited patiently, seeming to enjoy herself. The Elpind made constant, tiny motions. Cara wondered if it ...
hin,
she reminded herself, was nervous.

Finally the students settled back down.

"Eerin expressed the desire, in a government communique prior to arrival, to experience something uniquely StarBridge," Kkintha ch'aait said. "We have decided a pair project will allow Eerin to experience a unique feature of StarBridge, and will offer the best opportunity for hin to interact with another CLS-member species. In addition, it works well with hin's plans to visit another system before returning to Elseemar. The death of two birds with one rock, as you human students might say."

A rumble of appreciative laughter rose from the members of the audience to whom she referred.

Cara had learned during the past weeks about pair projects. Two students of different species were paired and sent away from StarBridge to accomplish a special project set by the Academy. All interrelators were required to complete a pair project, and many of the telepaths and translators elected to, also. It was considered the best way to learn teamwork across cultural lines.

Pair partners were seldom chosen for each other from the cultures each student was majoring in; the idea was to have them learn from each other without prior preparation.

Sort of a field test,
she found herself thinking, then she focused again on what the Administrator was saying: "... a special Tapping right now. The faculty felt Eerin would enjoy watching the Tapping ceremony itself. I will tell you that the choice announced through our light system will be a surprise to both Eerin and the chosen student, but we have put a great deal of thought into selecting the person we felt would be the best pair partner for Eerin."

Cara could feel the excitement level rise another notch. "Did I understand correctly?" she whispered to Mark. "Someone's already been chosen, but that person doesn't know it yet ... and is going to find out right now?"

"Right. You'll like the Tapping ceremony," Mark replied.

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"What if it's you?" she kidded. "I'll get the best camera angle possible, totally by chance."

Mark
smiled tolerantly. "Nope, once again, you'll have to go elsewhere for your story. I did my pair project over a year ago."

"Who did you get?"

"A Heeyoon, Starchaser. We got to be great friends. She--" He interrupted himself. "They're ready to start! Is your camera on?"

"Naturally." Cara gazed about her expectantly. The term 'Tapping," she knew, came from the ancient custom of choosing members for exclusive clubs or special honors by sending someone to actually "tap" a chosen person on the shoulder. While the old terminology lingered, Cara felt sure she would witness a very different method of selection.