This is a fan translation of The Faraway Saikat (Далёкий Сайкат) by Mikhail Akhmanov, currently only available in Russian and, because of the author's passing in 2019, unlikely to ever be published in English. This is the second book in a series called Trevelyan's Mission (Миссия Тревельяна), which is a spin-off from the author's Arrivals from the Dark (Пришедшие из мрака) six-book series.
I claim no rights to the contents herein.
First and foremost, it should be noted that the Kni'lina, like humans, practice free love, and the relationship between a man and a woman, as long as it does not go beyond the commonly accepted behavior, is considered to be a private matter. But if formal marriage has been left behind in the distant past in the Earth Federation, it still remains among the Kni'lina (primarily among the Poharas), even though the number of such acts does not exceed one ten-thousandth of a percent. As it is known, marriage primarily has to do with property relations, with the desire to pass material wealth and, more importantly, power and a certain societal status to one's legal heirs. The ancient form of power still in use by the Poharas Clan (by that we mean the Emperor and the aristocracy class), has, in turn, preserved this ancient form of marriage, necessary for passing on titles and familial privileges. But, I repeat, this phenomenon is specific and extremely rare.
It is generally believed that the sphere of Kni'lina love relationships differs from human ones in the area of technique (positions, acts in weightlessness, usage of aphrodisiacs), the lack of any inhibitions preventing sexual relations, and, finally, in the area of certain psychoerotic disorders, which we have not encountered on Earth or on any of the worlds colonized over the past millennium. But specialists are aware that the primary difference is the separation of sex itself from conception of offspring. The latter does not assume a romantic relationship and is performed by partners of a suitable genetic orientation or by way of artificial insemination, also accounting for genetics and the use of sperm banks (both the Ni and the Poharas clans have their own sperm banks). However, there are no rules without exceptions: there is extremely vague information about long-term romantic relationships and children born of love. For unknown reasons, these stories always end in a tragedy.
Richard Kleist
Other Love: Sexual Practices of Humanoid Races, "Kni'lina" section
Chapter 7
Even Bigger Problems
Not counting the Daskins, who had vanished in the flow of time millions of years ago, and the mythical Lords of Emptiness, the Lo'ona Aeo were the oldest of the galactic races. On the outside, they were similar to humans, Teruxi, and Kni'lina and, the rumor went, had a fairly pleasant appearance, but they were not humanoids. Four sexes, the gift of telepathy, and reproduction with the use of psychic pulses made them a special type of race, which, given the human-like appearance of the Lo'ona Aeo, were classified by humans as pseudohumanoids. After abandoning solid ground, they lived in enormous astroids, artificial space cities, circling some of the planets they had colonized in time immemorial. The Lo'ona Aeo sector was closed to visitors and protected by mercenaries, which were concentrated at the borders and well-armed. The race of the mercenaries changed every thousand years, and now they were human, who had once left Earth and settled on the planets provided by the Lo'ona Aeo. These worlds were not a part of the Earth Federation, but they did maintain close relations with it.
Even though no one could say that he or she had ever seen a living Lonchak (what the astronauts called the Lo'ona Aeo), that civilization maintained relations with nearly all known races and actively traded with them. The trade was performed by the Servs, or rather it was one of their responsibilities, as they represented their masters in all relations, including diplomacy, cultural exchange, and international projects. Servs were bio-androids of a high-level of intelligence, communicative, clever, loyal to the Lo'ona Aeo who were producing them, and utterly non-aggressive. In fact, their masters were also, if insulated, a perfectly peaceful race, one of the first humanity had established contact with, through their Servs, of course. On Luna, one of the Embassy Domes contained a diplomatic mission made up of Servs, and it was considered to be the oldest; it had probably existed back during the wars with the Faata, and most definitely during the period of fighting the Dromi. But the Lo'ona Aeo did not involve themselves in alien conflicts, did not seek to quarrel with anyone, and did not supply anybody with weapons; all their devices, from microchips of incredible capacity to gigantic planetary terraforming installations, were of a purely peaceful nature. In exchange for these products of advanced technology, as well as unique pharmaceuticals, Tintakh wine and honey, thin fabrics of amazing strength, and other marvels, the Lonchaks imported various rarities, exotic plants, unusual animals, art objects, holofilms, musical recordings, etc. They were a wealthy race, who had once tasted the delights of cosmic adventure, distant wanderings, fights and dangers, accumulating plenty of wisdom and settling in the state pessimists called the swamp of hedonism and optimists referred to as the true Golden Age.
Besides the technological products, they also traded in certain strange objects. Among their goods were figurines that, in a month or two, took on the appearance and characteristics of their owners, becoming their second self, a miniature one, but intelligent enough to engage in conversation, feel compassion, joy, and provide comfort. To some, such a companion brightened up loneliness and deficit in communication, replacing their family and friends; a person could get used to it so much that, without the figurine, he or she could die in anguish and sorrow. There were also mirrors, seemingly normal ones, but allowing one to communicate with one's reflection and change it, making it funny, ugly, or beautiful. These amusing metamorphoses eventually led to the person looking at the mirror changing, either for the better or worse, and no one could predict the direction of the change. Those were dangerous toys! But the most dangerous of all was were hypnoglyphs, a powerful psychotropic object that affected the brain through the eyes, putting the person looking at it into a trance. The hypnotic effect happened almost immediately, suppressing the person's will, and it was impossible to leave the trance on your own. Hypnoglyphs looked like lamps, bowls, flat screens, and oddly-shaped objects, which sparkled, glowed, changed colors, and some of those could be looked at for hours and days on end, while others led to death in a matter of minutes, typically as a result of asphyxiation, the rupture of cardiac aorta, or a brain hemorrhage. They affected humanoids of all known races, could not be copied, emitted nothing, and required no power. Humans, Kni'lina, and even Haptors forbade their import, but they were being imported in secret, as a hypnoglyph had plenty of valuable uses, like the one tested out on First Blade.
According to the biologist Second Course, who had examined the bodies, the Coordinator and poor Ori died within six or seven minutes. Their respiratory centers were paralyzed, and they suffocated.
Eight Kni'lina and Trevelyan were sitting in the meeting hall, tall and round, separated in two with a small barrier. The smaller human part had several rows of comfortable chairs with screens and fold-out tables, located close to one another; the spacious alien half had cushions, and the distance between them seemed to be great, three meters, if not more. But Trevelyan, sitting right in front of the barrier, could clearly see the faces of the Kni'lina: Zend Una's grim focused expression, Ifta Kee's wide-open and frightened eyes, Naya Acra with the frozen expression of vicious aggression, and Iutin, whose hands were folded in a gesture of sorrow. The honorable members of the Ni Clan looked more reserved in showing their emotions, and only Third Depth's face occasionally formed a strange expression: either a contemptuous sneer or a very inappropriate joy.
"Does everyone know what has happened?" Zend Una slapped his knee, calling to attention. "Does everyone agree that we need to discuss the situation? Immediately, before the funeral rite and before we send a message to Yezdan?"
He received a murmur of agreement from the Kni'lina in reply. Trevelyan said, "I must inform my superiors. I require access to long-range communications."
"We will talk about that later," the linguist spoke in a sharp voice, turning to Trevelyan. "You were the first to enter the Coordinator's quarters. Where are the crystals with the recordings from Saikat?"
"I entered after the robot has secured the hypnoglyph, and I was not alone, seven servants of the Ni Clan were with me," Ivar clarified, adjusting his headband. "The Crystals were in the holoprojector. Apparently―"
"I was not asking where they were. Where are they now?"
Trevelyan was decidedly not a fan of Zend Una's tone and his manner of interrogation. Previously, the linguist had taken up the third position in the Kni'lina group and was now clearly shooting for leadership, demonstrating it quite openly, even though First Blade's body wasn't even cold yet. Ivar, equal to the linguist in rank, could also claim the leadership role or, at the very least, demand respect. And this Baldie was addressing him without even adding "nyuri"!
"The crystals were in the holoprojector," he repeated, ignoring the linguist's question. "Apparently, nyuri First Blade had been reviewing them, when the servant brought tetsamni. I had the station's Brain copy the recordings and make them available to each of you. In addition, the Brain has quickly reviewed them and determined…" Blood rushed to Zend Una's head, and Trevelyan went on as if nothing had happened, "…determined that the four crystals of the humanoid observers contain only the scenes of the battle between the Tazinto and the Terre and the resulting carnage. This makes it impossible to figure out where the javelin that killed the Coordinator had come from. As for the panoramic recording made by the cyber, it's been completely erased."
"You erased it, human!" Even though Naya Acra was twelve paces away, Trevelyan felt as if her bony fingers was pushing right at the bridge of his nose. "You erased it, and you killed the honorable Jeb Ro! You, the hairy spawn!"
"Turn down your emotions, venerable one! I couldn't erase anything in front of seven witnesses."
"Witnesses, hah! Worthless servants!"
"Most of whom are specialists and technicians, who saw and understood what I was doing." Trevelyan placed four blue crystals and one empty gray one on the barrier. "I have a version of what has happened. Do the nyuri wish to hear it out?"
Zend Una started to open his mouth to protest, but he was suddenly interrupted by the giant botanist, "No, let him speak! We're not in the Poharas Emperor's palace, where everyone stays silent and scratches their naked asses. This is a meeting of free people!"
He was seconded by Third Depth, "May Yezdan give us wisdom. He did say that whosoever wishes to judge one who is voiceless is a criminal himself! Is that not so, Zend Una?" She threw a withering glance at the linguist. "Perhaps you are connected to these murders and do not wish―"
The linguist clapped his hands, which was a sign of anger, and, producing a roar, started to get up from his cushion.
"Calm down, nyuri!" Trevelyan rose before he could, regretting not putting on the skin. Let them fight it out. The broad's a tough one, he won't kill her easily, came the Commodore's rustling voice, but he spoke, not listening to his Advisor, "Calm down, honorable ones, we have plenty of problems already, even without an argument! Peace, peace! Peace and my gratitude for the support of Fifth Evening and Third Depth. And now I will tell you how―"
The female geneticist threw him a charming smile, as if that meeting in the park, the paralyzer aimed at him, and the contemptuous nickname "mshak" hadn't happened.
"Our names have changed, nyuri Ivar Trevelyan. First Course," she pointed at the biologist, "Second Depth," her hand touched her chest, "and these are Third Pilot and Fourth Evening. I trust you will remember?"
"Of course, nyuri," Trevelyan bent his knees slightly. "May I continue?"
"The honorable Ni are listening attentively and with interest."
Strange, Ivar thought. Another bid for leadership, even though it was supposed to have been made by Course, First Course after Blade's death. But the biologist was sitting with an impassive face, not at all like that monster that had burst into the Terre cave.
"Well then, my colleagues," he looked over the eight Kni'lina, "there is no doubt that one of you has sneaked a hypnoglyph onto the station. Not a weapon per se, but still a forbidden and extremely dangerous object, something we have already had a chance to confirm… Right now, it is in here." Trevelyan tapped a bent finger against the container. "Its owner didn't want First Blade to look over the recordings, especially the panoramic view, which would, quite possibly, incriminate the perpetrator. And that person sent the Coordinator the hypnoglyph under an overturned bowl. You are aware that several locations on the habitation and technical levels are not monitored by the Brain's video sensors, as there is no need for that. In one such place, our perpetrator stopped Ori, took the tray from him, and placed the hypnoglyph on it. It's also possible that the tray, the bowl with its contents, and tocar of tetsamni had been prepared in advance and given to Ori with the orders to take them to the Coordinator. Your servants obey you blindly… plus, Ori wasn't aware of what he was carrying…"
Silence fell, interrupted by Zend Una's sharp voice.
"If this version is correct, then the hypnoglyph was placed by someone, who had gone down to the planet. You, human, or Iutin, or First Course."
"Not necessarily. Excluding me, either of my two companions could have killed Jeb Ro under the orders of someone remaining on the Station. Perhaps that person is the owner of the hypnoglyph." Examining the Kni'lina, Trevelyan finished, "Let me tell you with all honesty: there are nine of us, and no one is free of suspicion, except for nyuri Ifta Kee. She had absolutely no reason to kill First Blade, or Jeb Ro, for that matter."
The beauty threw him a grateful smile. Her eyes looked like a pair of emeralds, clouded with sadness.
Third Pilot, who was usually quiet, cleared his throat and said, "An acceptable version, if we explain the uncertain fact of who and when erased the panoramic recording. Besides the servant, no one entered First Blade's quarters; I asked the station, and the Brain has confirmed it. There are holocameras in the hall in front of our quarters, so the Coordinator's door was under observation."
The guy's no fool, no wonder he's a pilot! came a rustling in Ivar's head. He's looking at the root of the issue!
Who had destroyed the recording and when? These questions were bothering Trevelyan too. The perpetrator couldn't have done that, since, as Third Pilot noted correctly, no one had entered the Coordinator's quarters before or after his death. No one, except for the poor Ori! Iutin or Course could have wiped the crystal during the flight to the station, but they could be excluded ― Ivar clearly remembered that First Blade had been handed five blue crystals, which meant that there was information on them. Iutin was the one to give them to him, right in the airlock, and even if he had substituted the panoramic recording, this still didn't answer the question, since one of the crystals in the holoprojector was indeed empty! Trevelyan had some ideas on that subject, but he kept them to himself, as those ideas would refute his version. Not in the sense of the actions that had led to the deaths of Blade and Ori, but in the sense of the motive. For example, if one allowed that the recording could have been erased by the Coordinator himself, then the motive of the crime became completely incompressible.
"Regarding the panoramic recording…" Trevelyan said leisurely, trying to stall for time. "I admit that I have no answer to that question. For now. We need to determine where each of us was and what he or she was doing, and what confirms all these versions: the Brain's observations, a colleague's witness testimony, or other circumstances. Besides that…" He paused, then continued with a chuckle, "Besides that, in the words of the Gray-eyed, nothing happens without sin, meaning without a mistake. If I understand what the criminal's mistake was, then we can―"
"Don't you dare misinterpret Yezdan's holy words!" Naya Acra shouted. "He meant sin and nothing else!"
"A mistake is also a sin, nyuri."
The priestess raised her hands in a gesture of desperation.
"What are we doing, honorable ones? Give us wisdom, Yezdan! Two coordinators are dead, and we are sitting here and listening to a human, who, most likely, was the one to kill them! Tell me, which of us is capable of such an act? And why? Only an alien, which we all know!" Naya Acra's face was suddenly twisted in hatred, her bony finger once again pointed at Trevelyan. "These Hairies were killing us during the war, burning the cities on our planets, destroying the temples of the Gray-eyed, and now one of them is here, with us! One more hairy killer!"
Way to remember the antiquity! What, did Napoleon and Julius Caesar also slaughter Kni'lina, and Genghis Khan helped? the Commodore grunted. The bitch is utterly insane! Trevelyan was prepared to agree with him; it seemed that the priestess/psychologist had indeed lost her marbles.
"Where did all this anger come from?" he inquired, maintaining his calm. "First of all, we fought the Ni Clan, not the Poharas, and, second, it was a long time ago. Very long ago, but I know that the Kni'lina also killed our people, burned our cities, and destroyed our shrines." He paused and finished, "I think it's best not to count yours and our funeral urns, filled long ago, and look at the ones that are standing right in front of us."
Zend Una rose and reached into his shirt. Like all the Kni'lina, he was wearing a saigor, a tight-fitting work jumpsuit, and something was suspiciously bulging on the left side, just above the waist. The object looked too small to be an emitter, but just the right size for a laser whip or a paralyzer.
Be careful, lad! came the Advisor's mental whisper.
Moving his hidden hand slightly, the linguist lifted his chin. His narrow face, typical for a Kni'lina, was full of determination.
"We cannot accept the human's version, since, as Third Pilot noted, it does not explain the important facts. He is right about one thing, though ― each of us is under suspicion. That is why I will personally send the long-range message and conduct the investigation."
"By what right?" Second Depth inquired coldly, raising her eyebrows.
"By right of the new coordinator of this expedition!"
"You, the Coordinator? Why not First Course?"
Zend Una's face jerked. Such a play of facial muscles was nearly impossible for a human: his mouth stretched, the eyes seemed to slide down, the cheeks and nostrils quivered. Trevelyan realized that this, just like a handclap, was a sign of extreme irritation, probably a barely controlled rage.
"Why not First Course?" the linguist repeated hoarsely. "Indeed, why not?" He fell silent for a moment, returning a mask of impassiveness to his face. "I won't speak of the obvious, that I am the third ranking person here, that the expedition must be led by a Poharas in accordance with the Horada's decision, and not even of the fact that First Course is one of the three suspects in Jeb Ro's death. There are far more important reasons, and you, Ni woman, know them! I'm certain that you do, while I and certain others can guess! We have eyes too!" Zend Una laughed shrilly. "An abomination from Tow as a coordinator! Why not this mshak then?" He nodded in Trevelyan's direction. "Yezdan had indeed been right when he said that life is the laughter of a madman in the emptiness!"
First Course rose slowly. His body was relaxed, and it seemed as if nothing was threatening the linguist. His gray eyes were motionless and dull, becoming a pair of tin buttons.
"You have insulted me, Zend Una."
"A thing like you cannot be insulted. You―"
Course leapt; he did it strangely, without crouching, without bending his legs, merely pushing off the floor with his feet, the way people jumped in zero-g. His cushion wasn't far from Ivar, and in order to reach Zend Una, the biologist would have to cross the entire hall. Having clearly interpreted Course's intentions, Trevelyan leapt almost simultaneously with him and, once again cursing his own carelessness―where was that skin?―fell upon the biologist's back. Despite the expectations, he didn't fall, didn't even lose his footing, merely shrugging his shoulders and throwing Trevelyan right onto Second Depth. For a moment, Ivar felt monstrously powerful muscles bulge under his fingers, and the very next moment, his head slammed into the woman's hip, while he himself, flipping over, found himself on her knees. Fortunately, his cervical vertebrae had held, and Second Depth turned out to have firm and resilient hips.
The biologist was slowed down after all, which was enough for Zend Una to take out a blue rod from under his jumpsuit and point it at the attacker. The weapon―Trevelyan no longer doubted that it was one―didn't look like a laser whip, a paralyzer, a needler, a molecular destructor, or anything else of that sort, but First Course dropped to the floor without a sound. At that moment, Trevelyan's temples felt as if they were being squeezed, a dark haze fell over his eyes, but, through the oncoming oblivion, he heard the brief wail-like groan of Second Depth and the screams of the other five Kni'lina.
The unpleasant sensation disappeared almost immediately; apparently, Zend Una had disengaged his rod. Then, raising it high and ignoring the motionless biologist, he said, "You know what this is: a palustar, a Wand of Power, which is only issued to the Eyes of the Horada and used by them in extreme cases. Nyuri Jeb Ro and nyuri First Blade were informed that this expedition had an Eye observer, that I was that observer, and that both of them were being monitored by the Horada. This expedition is too important for us to be ruined by petty squabbles between the Ni and the Poharas! We're talking about the galactic prestige of our race, which the humans are trying to belittle; of that I have no doubt! That is why, by right of the representative of the highest authority, I am taking on the functions of the Coordinator. Any objections?"
He was answered by a dead silence. From his position (his head and shoulders were still lying on Second Depth's knees), Trevelyan could see that the Kni'lina were frightened: all of them, including the giant botanist and the quarrelsome priestess. In all honesty, the Horada, which was something like a congress of the clans and was lorded over by the Ni and the Poharas, could be considered the highest authority with a big stretch, since all of its decisions were more like recommendations. But it seemed, Trevelyan thought, that this governing body had special powers, or they were given to agents of the Horada in extraordinary circumstances. And these powers were broad, which was evident from the faces of the Kni'lina and First Course's motionless body!
"No objections," the linguist summarized. "Tomorrow, after the sleeping period, we will perform the funeral ceremony. The servant can be incinerated right now; you, priestess, will take care of that. Within the next several days, I will summon each of you into my laboratory for questioning, but first I need to familiarize myself with the recordings from Saikat and decide if there is anything in them useful to the investigation." He threw a glance at Trevelyan. "You said that they are already in the station's memory? I will check."
Rounding First Course's body with disgust, Zend Una walked up to the barrier, picked up the crystal and the container with the hypnoglyph, and quickly left the meeting hall. The rest, depressed, gloomy, or scared, like Ifta Kee, moved to follow. But Second Depth continued to sit, and Trevelyan suddenly realized that the woman's fingers were buried in his thick hair: either she wanted to stroke it, or she was feeling for his headband.
"Forgive me, nyuri," he said, still not moving. "It was not of my own volition that I violated your cono."
"Do all your females have such fur on their heads?" the geneticist asked suddenly. "Just as soft and long?"
"A lot softer and longer than mine," Ivar replied, deciding not to be surprised by anything. "They can be a night, morning, or day color, and also the color of the first moon with a golden tint. Some carry the evening and second moon colors, but those aren't natural hues, they're a product of our appearance designers. They can do incredible things with hair! Towers, crowns, sea waves, bird nests, and―"
"I have no fur on my head," Second Depth interrupted him. "I must look ugly to you, do I not?"
"Far from it," Ivar said and repeated after a brief pause, "Far from it! For Kni'lina women, the absence of hair is natural and can never look ugly. On the contrary, there is something new and intriguing about it… I already admitted once that I was amazed by your beauty, and I can repeat it again."
She shifted. Now, the back of Trevelyan's head, gripped by the headband, was lying on her thigh, while his cheek was touching her firm abdomen. He watched the woman's gray eyes darken.
She bit, the Commodore commented. But don't forget that this one is a witch. Want to add her to your collection?
I'll have to, Trevelyan replied mentally and, as if trying to explain himself, added, Not for my personal needs or pleasure, but only on official business. Extra information, you know, doesn't just lie around on the floor.
No, not on the floor. It lies around in bed.
Upon making this wise comment, the ghostly Advisor fell silent.
Continuing to stroke Ivar's hair, Second Depth said, "You are very brave, human, but not too bright. You leapt to the defense of Zend Una, that filth, that Eye of the Horada, the rotten Poharas sprout! You're fortunate that First Course didn't hit you any harder… He could have broken all your bones."
"How is he, by the way?" Trevelyan shifted his eyes to look at the biologist's motionless body.
"He's alive. It isn't easy to kill someone like him. The neural connections in his brain are recovering even after a mental blow."
"So that palustar Zend Una was threatening us with…"
"A mental emitter, a fairly powerful one. The device is forbidden to all, except for certain representatives of the Horada. They… Tell me, do you have predators that feed on carrion, not just meat?"
"We do. Hyenas. Not particularly pleasant to look at."
"Hyenas…" Depth repeated the unfamiliar word. "They're hyenas. Vile, repulsive… sometimes scary."
Secret police, the Commodore noted, while Trevelyan asked, "Are you afraid of him, my gray-eyed joy?"
Second Depth's eyes flashed.
"Remember this: I am not afraid of anyone or anything! I won't even be afraid to spend a night with a mshak!"
"Sounds tempting." Trevelyan rose and picked her up in his arms. "Will the nyuri forgive me? This isn't too frivolous for a mshak, is it?"
"She will. But the nyuri would prefer to walk on her own. Release me."
Hand in hand, they headed for the exit. Ivar turned to look back, and the emptiness of the spacious hall suddenly shocked him, the way a place, created by people and for the people, which didn't have a soul in it, shocked. These rows of unoccupied chairs, these folded lecterns, these Kni'lina cushions lying so far from one another… For a moment, he felt a pang of loneliness, then thought that this night wouldn't be lonely, which was good.
Then his gaze fell upon the still-motionless First Course.
"Are you sure he doesn't need help? Maybe we should call the servants."
"They won't get close to him," Second Depth said and explained, "They're afraid."
"Why? And why did Zend Una call him an abomination from Tow? Tow is one of your worlds, isn't it?"
The woman slowly lowered her eyelids. Her eyelashes were incredibly long and lay on her matte-white skin like two fluffy fans.
"You are standing next to me, Ivar Trevelyan, and that means something ―as a xenologist, you know our customs. So what shall we do? Talk? Talk about Zend Una and First Course? About that little bitch Ifta Kee, the thawed priestess, and all the other fools? If you're interested in talking, then leave my cono, but if you wish to stay in it, then tell me that you're dreaming of my lips and body and take me to your quarters. What will you choose?"
Trevelyan took her by the waist. They went out into the park, which was already gloomy under the fading light of the artificial sun. The dark pavilion now looked like a large carved casket on the soft fleecy cloth of the meadow. Less than two weeks had passed, since they had feasted here, eaten strange Kni'lina dishes, drunk juices, given officious speeches, and two of them were now gone… Three, Trevelyan corrected himself immediately, remembering poor Ori. He suddenly felt that someone was standing at the edge of the forest, a hundred and fifty meters away. Peering at it, he recognized Iutin. Apparently, the third geneticist had wanted to approach him, but seeing that Ivar wasn't alone, he hid behind the trees. Judas, rustled the silent voice of the Commodore. Maybe Judas, maybe not, Trevelyan thought, but definitely one of the two suspects. Whoever was responsible for First Blade's death, this murder proved that Jeb Ro's death hadn't been an accident, and that neither the Tazinto nor the Terre were at fault.
Without a word, Ivar and Second Depth passed the meadow, entered the hallway of the human section, and reached the compartment through the crimson door. Trevelyan was walking silently, even though questions were gnawing at him. The scene at the meeting hall, where Zend Una had brought down First Blade, was as incomprehensible as the obvious hatred of the priestess and the sudden, overly hasty affection of Second Depth. Maybe she, like him, needed to relieve some tension. They had nearly witnessed a third murder, which definitely would have happened, had the biologist reached Zend Una's thin neck… Lots of stress! There was a universal method for getting rid of it, known to both Kni'lina and humans.
Perhaps he'd guessed Second Depth's reasons, but there were other questions as well, maybe a dozen, or, if he thought a little longer, then even more. First Course, an abomination from Tow. What did that mean? That he was capable of consuming cognac and occasionally going berserk?.. He ought to ask her some more about lean priestess Naya Acra. Why had Depth called her thawed? For the Kni'lina, this term did not have a metaphorical meaning, as it did in some ancient Earth languages, and meant exactly what it sounded like, referring to a person who had risen from a cryogenic sleep. Had the priestess undergone hibernation then? Where, when, and for what purpose? Iutin again, who had been silent as a mouse at the meeting… Second Depth clearly knew who these Zinto were… But, if he was interested in talking, then he ought to leave her cono. And he really didn't want to do that. He consoled himself with the thought that, after the embraces and the caresses, Second Depth might become more talkative.
The woman stopped at the threshold, examining his quarters.
"I've never been in the home of a human."
"This isn't the home of a human, merely a Kni'lina idea of one," Trevelyan noted. "When the rest of our expedition arrives, everything will change. They'll create an environment more familiar to us: rectangular tables, chairs, lights, dishes, and so forth… Items the Kni'lina have of a different shape or not at all."
"Your people have far too many things." Second Depth started to slowly move around the room, peering curiously into the wardrobes and recesses. "I have seen several human films… many things, the number of which keeps growing and growing with the human's age, as if each of you expects to live forever… I don't consider Yezdan to be a deity or a great prophet, but he does have some wise thoughts, one of which states that at the beginning of his life, a person needs a mat and a bowl for eating, and at its end just a funeral urn. This place has so many extraneous things… Like this… What is this, Ivar Trevelyan?"
"My grav-glider. Definitely not an extraneous object."
"And this?"
"A food container, my beautiful nyuri. Forgive me if this causes you displeasure, but I should remind you that I require meat."
"Is this your clothing?"
"Yes."
"So much of it?"
"Two sets. One has my regular human clothes, while the other one is for dealing with your people. Both our people like to dress well."
"There is nothing more beautiful than this." Second Depth touched a clasp, and the saigor fell from her shoulders. She had perfectly shaped breasts with tiny scarlet nipples, gentle white skin, graceful outlines of her back and waist, which Trevelyan could grasp completely with the fingers of both hands. The saigor had folded in a thin roll on her abdomen and buttocks, underscoring their firmness and hinting that, at any moment, it could slide even lower. Witch, the Commodore whispered, she's a witch, that one… Don't forget it, lad!
I won't, Trevelyan promised and swallowed.
The woman was walking along the wall lightly, as if dancing, getting closer to the bedroom with every step. Trevelyan watched her like a cat tracking a bird that had flown off a branch. Her lips quivered; she seemed to understand his impatience.
"What's here?"
"Equipment for field work and different outdoor gear: flashlight, first aid kid, knife, device for lighting a fire…"
"Why do you need a fire?"
"To cook food in the woods or mountains."
"In this bowl?" She pointed at a cauldron on a tripod.
"Yes. Start a fire, add water, and throw something edible into the bowl. Fruit, roots, or… hmm… a piece of meat. If canned food runs out during a hike, and I have to switch to eating what's around me."
"A little primitive, don't you think?" Second Depth was examining one object after another, weighed the first aid kid in her hand, turned the flashlight on and off, touched the knife's ribbed handle. Her bare breasts were barely noticeably shaking.
"It is," Trevelyan agreed. "But to survive down there," he pointed at the floor, "one does need primitive things."
"Like the Terre and the Tazinto?"
"Exactly."
"Savages! Vile dirty savages!" She shuddered, then sharply turned to Trevelyan. "I know you tried to break the code protecting my records… The station informed me… Why do you want them?"
"I did break the code," Trevelyan informed her without batting an eye. "Although, because of the recent events, I haven't had a chance to familiarize myself with your reports… But I will definitely do it tomorrow. It's my duty, my enchanting nyuri. According to the assignment I have received from the Foundation that sent me, I must review all the results of the observations and works, including yours."
"You could have asked me."
"I could have, but you weren't particularly affectionate during our first meeting in the park. You even threatened the poor mshak with a paralyzer."
"Paralyzer?" The woman approached him to an arm's length. "It's nothing, a toy… a low-power device… Would you like me to tell you about my research?"
For a moment, Trevelyan weighed all the "pros" and "cons", then decided that words were just words, while the Brain's memory held the far more reliable documents. Besides, the situation didn't dispose one to scientific discussions.
Throwing a gentle glance at her naked breasts, he said, "If you're interesting in talking, then leave my cono, but if you wish to stay in it, then tell me that you're dreaming of my embrace and drop that." Ivar touched the crumpled up saigor.
Second Depth laughed.
"I most certainly will drop it, and then may Yezdan protect me! But first block all the communications channels to the Brain and activate soundproofing in the bedroom. Also remove and turn off your headband. I assume it's a recording device? I don't need any witnesses."
Sorry, Grandpa. She's right about that, Trevelyan spoke mentally and, in reply, received a barely recognizable, Witch… witch… Squinting, the woman was watching him take off the headband and block off the computer ports, all but the emergency audio line. For a moment, Ivar had a feeling that he was doing exactly what First Blade had done yesterday, and that his guest could be the killer just as likely as any of the other Kni'lina. But then Second Depth dropped her saigor, and he saw that there was nothing under it, absolutely nothing, no hypnoglyphs, no paralyzers, just a beautiful and very inviting female body.
"In the bedroom, we can turn off artificial gravity," Second Depth whispered quietly and passionately. "At certain moments, Ivar Trevelyan, I prefer to fall freely in weightlessness. We will fall in one another's arms along with the station that circles Saikat… to fall moment by moment, second by second… to fall all night… almost an eternity…"
That night, Trevelyan learned many unexpected things about the Kni'lina and himself. A part of that knowledge was the name of his partner ― he kept discovering new and new depths to her, such endless depths that he hadn't been able to probe them all. But he had no regrets, for nothing made a woman beautiful and painfully desirable as a mystery and a secret.
As Second Depths had promised, their fall lasted for almost an eternity. Then, exhausted, he fell asleep and woke up early in the morning from the wailing of an alarm. The woman, who had been sleeping in his bed, was gone, and only the scent of her body, still wafting through the air, reminded him that everything that had happened wasn't a dream. But the air conditioners on the station were working perfectly, so the scent was disappearing quickly, the way all sweet memories vanished and faded, leaving behind a wrenching void.
The siren continued to blare. Ivar recalled that all communication channels, except for the emergency line, were blocked, swore, and hopped off the bed. He didn't find Second Depth in the main area with the tables, couches, and cabinets with his things. No trace, no scent, no message on the screen, no other sign… He connected to the cryogenic Brain's ports, and a sharp computer voice filled the room, "Emergency! Notifying all members of the expedition! Nyuri Zend Una has been killed! The event took place…" the Brain specified the time roughly equivalent to two and a half Earth minutes.
"Killed! Killed how?" Trevelyan exclaimed, putting on the headband. "We have news," he told the Commodore, listening to the information again. The Advisor merely produced the mental equivalent of a snort, clearly being offended at having been turned off.
Ivar grabbed his jumpsuit, then remembered the skin and quickly stretched it onto his naked body. Having gotten dressed and standing by the door, he turned to the holoprojectors at the center of the room.
"Station! Where did the murder take place? Show me this place and the body!"
"Of course, nyuri Trevelyan."
The video came on, spurting out a cloud of silver fog. Then the haze cleared, and Trevelyan saw Zend Una with bulging dead eyes and bloodied open mouth. He was lying on his back, at the threshold to his lab; the door was open, light was reflecting off the linguist's hairless scalp, while Trevelyan's camping knife was sticking out of his throat.