Chan approached the silent rock. As he did so, two black hoses emerged from the upper ring of holes and snaked through the air toward him. He started to take a step back, but halted at Friday’s urgent, “Stand still! There is nothing to be afraid of.”
Chan froze. The ends of the hoses were divided into fine bundles of thin filaments. They had reached his body and were feeling their way up it.
Friday Indigo said, as casually as if he was suggesting that Chan take a seat, “Unseal your helmet all the way. This is part of your negotiation.”
Chan took a deep breath. He opened his visor. The thin bundles of filaments moved up, to rest one below each of his ears.
“Now,” Indigo said. “You will be permitted the privilege of free speech. Tell how you and your party can be of service to The One and to the People.”
“We understand your wish to explore our universe. We can lead you to it.” Chan did his best to remain calm and organize his thoughts. He suspected that he was talking for his life — more than his life. It would be worse than death to become a zombie like Friday Indigo, a walking dead who existed only to serve the object sitting in front of him. He went on, “I do not know how to fly your ship, that would require long training. But I am able to work with your pilots, to generate a transition sequence that will carry you through the Link.”
“Ah.” Indigo was frowning. “First you say we , as though speaking for all your party. Then you say, I , as though speaking only for yourself. The One asks, does that change have meaning?”
“It does.” Chan was very aware of the thin tentacles touching below his ears. He had seen the dried blood on Friday Indigo’s neck, and heard the Angel’s assertion that some form of Malacostracan life existed inside Friday’s brain. “I say that I , and I alone, will do this thing for you, because I do not trust others in my party to act in my interests. Which is to say, I do not trust others to do the thing which is best for me.”
“And what is best for you?”
“To provide service to you, and so avoid my own destruction.”
“And that service is?”
“To lead you to another universe, the human universe, that is hospitable to life.”
“And your reward for doing this?”
“My life. My freedom. Perhaps, power as a servant of the Malacostracans.”
“And for the others of your party?”
“That is of little interest to me. I care only about my own life and future.”
“You are willing to do anything to save that life?”
“I am. I understand self-interest, as perhaps you also understand self-interest.” Chan felt the first touch of delicate tendrils, moving into the openings of his ears. He had to talk fast. He said, “My job in leading you through to my universe will be a difficult one, even with help from your pilots. It requires that I have full possession of all my faculties. My brain cannot be drugged, or exhausted. It cannot be changed in any way.”
The tendrils stopped moving. Friday Indigo said, “We understand self-interest. It is our impression that most humans comprehend such a thing only weakly. Give proof that you are different from them.”
“How?”
A third hose emerged from the rock. Its prehensile end held one of the black canes. The hose swayed forward until it was a foot from Chan’s chest.
Indigo said, “Do you know what this does?”
“I think so. It is a weapon.”
“Correct. At one setting, it stuns. At another, it kills. This one is now set at a level fatal to humans.”
Chan looked down at the cane, pointed straight at his heart. He could think of nothing else to say or do. Had he made some fatal mistake, missed some vital cue?
Friday Indigo said, “Take it.”
Chan reached out and grasped the cane. It was smooth, and slightly sticky to the touch.
Friday said, “It is activated by pointing at the target, and squeezing anywhere along its length. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Now prove that you are different from others of your party. Give the evidence of your own self-interest.” Indigo’s voice was calm and relaxed. “Point the weapon at the being standing next to you. Activate it. Kill the human you know as Friday Indigo.”
Chan raised the cane. A dozen jumbled thoughts seemed to race through his head at once. If I kill Friday, The One will have nobody to serve as a translation unit. Maybe Chrissie and Tarbush were intended for that fate, but they’ve escaped. But I’m here, and available for conversion. So if I kill Friday, I’m probably dooming myself. Suppose I don’t kill Friday? Then I’m still doomed. Anyway, I can’t kill a human in cold blood. But Friday isn’t a human, so I can kill Friday. No? Very well, then admit the truth. I can’t kill Friday, human or not. So my whole plan fails, unless The One accepts that I’ll need all my faculties intact to guide a Malacostracan pilot through the Link to a human universe. If so, then The One will want to keep my brain intact, and she will still have a use for Friday Indigo as translator. So The One won’t want Friday Indigo dead.
Chan thought, Forgive me if I’m wrong, aimed the cane right at Friday, and squeezed.
Nothing happened. Indigo did not fall paralyzed or dead. He continued to stare with calm interest at the black cane pointed at his heart.
“That is adequate proof,” he said. “And it was accomplished without the waste of still-valuable material. The cane was of course deactivated. Answer one more question correctly, and we will be ready to proceed. If The One were to call you directly into her service, as I was called, you would gladly tell everything including the correct invocation sequence for Link transfer to the human universe. Prove to The One that it would be a mistake for her to follow such a course of action.”
Again the tendrils were poised at the entrance to Chan’s ears. He had to swallow before he could speak. “I cannot offer such a proof. All I can say is that conversion of me to The One’s direct service might interfere with my ability to assist in the Link transition, should unforeseen circumstances arise. And there is absolutely no risk to The One in leaving me unconverted.”
“That is true.” To Chan’s relief, the black tentacles lifted free of his body and slowly withdrew into the body of The One. Once again he was facing a dull black rock.
Friday Indigo continued, “The Malacostracans will prepare a ship for Link transfer and a first exploration of the human universe. Soon after daybreak tomorrow, you will be taken aboard that ship with The One, and by midday you will assist in initiating that Link transfer. Until morning you are free to stay here and eat, drink, and rest.”
“Very good. But one other thing is necessary.” Chan cursed his own stupidity. He had not realized that the Malacostracans would want to move so fast.
“What is that?”
“Not knowing how this meeting would turn out, I did not bring with me the full protocol needed for Link transition to the human universe. I request that I be allowed to go to the Hero’s Return , prepare that protocol, and return here.”
“When?”
“I will be back by morning.”
“General Korin is by your own admission senior to you. How can you be sure that he will allow you to return?”
“I will tell him that our discussions here remain unfinished. He will not try to prevent my departure.”
After a long, agonizing silence, Friday Indigo nodded. “It is approved. Be sure that you return by daybreak. To encourage you to do so, I will mention that we plan to destroy the Hero’s Return soon after first light. Do you have any problem with this?”
“No problem.” Just the death of Deb and Danny and everyone else.
“Then you have permission to leave the presence of The One. It is The One’s introspection time.”
Leaving was easier said than done. The lights in the chamber suddenly turned off, leaving Chan unable to see The One or anything else. He heard the uneven sound of Friday Indigo’s boots, one foot dragging across the hard floor, and turned in that direction. He saw, very faintly, the outline of the chamber entrance. There were no lights in the next room, but a faint trace of daylight bled in from the tunnel at its far end.