Agent to the Stars - John Scalzi (novels to improve english .txt) 📗

said. “If one of us tried to overtake the entire crew, I’d disconnect before he could overtake you. I’d probably have time.” That qualifier disturbed me, but Gwedif went on. “But I’d say it’s highly unlikely that someone will do that. For one thing, it’d wipe out the entire crew; whoever did it would never get back home. For another thing — Carl, this is epic stuff. If this works, this is going down in our history as one of the defining moments of our people. We’ll be famous forever. Believe me, none of us wants to be the one that screws that up.”

“Will I be able to read all your crew’s thoughts?” I asked.

“No,” Gwedif said. “I’m going to be translating your thoughts — I won’t have time to translate the other way. You’ll experience all our thoughts, they just won’t make a lick of sense. It will be the weirdest trip you’ll ever take, my friend.”

“Well,” I said, “When you put it that way, how can I refuse?”

“Then you’ll do it?” Gwedif asked.

“If you will be my conduit, Gwedif, I’ll be honored. Translate that exactly to your ientcio,” I said.

Gwedif apparently did — the room became filled with the odor of distilled dumpster juice. I asked Gwedif what was going on.

“The crew is applauding, Carl,” Gwedif said. “They’re relieved and happy. They didn’t just spend half of their lives traveling here for nothing. I lied a little to you, Carl — if you hadn’t accepted, it would have been a crushing disappointment for us all. But I didn’t want to burden you with that sort of guilt. Sorry to be sneaky.”

“That’s all right, ” I said. “I don’t mind. It’ll help me to recognize your thoughts during the melding — I’ll look for the sneaky ones.”

“I won’t be able to meld myself,” Gwedif said. “I have to manage your thoughts. That requires me to remain fully alert during the whole thing. In fact, of all the crew, I’ll be the only one that won’t be melding.”

I was dismayed. “I’m very sorry, Gwedif,” I said. “If I had known, I’d have asked for someone else to act as the conduit. I don’t want you not be part of it.”

“My friend,” Gwedif said. “Please. I am honored that you have chosen me as your conduit, more than you know. In doing so, you have allowed me to be the only one truly conscious during the melding — the only one who will see the event as it happens. When this story becomes our memory epic, the eyes that it will be seen through are mine.”

Gwedif sprouted a tendril and waved it at the crew. “This crew will be in the memory epic. But I will write it — and thus I will live forever through it, the Homer of this, my people’s greatest Odyssey. You have given me a great gift, Carl, and for it, I cannot thank you enough, you, my friend, my great and true friend.”

“Well,” I said. “You’re welcome, then.”

“Great,” Gwedif said. He sprouted another tendril, and wiggled both of them at me. “Now, you have to take out those plugs — I’ve got to stick these up your nose.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Not at all,” he said. “This might sting a little.”

*****

I won’t try to describe the melding, Tom, except to say — try to remember the most vivid, wild, erotic dream you have ever had. Now try to imagine it entirely as a clutch of smells, colliding, sliding, fading into each other. Now imagine it going on for a lifetime. That’s what it felt like.

I woke up, still on the dais, with three Yherajk around me. I asked for Gwedif. The one to my right waved a tentacle.

“Did it work?” I asked.

“It did,” Gwedif said, and motioned to the Yherajk near my feet. “Carl, please meet the progeny of 2000 Yherajk — and one human.”

“Hello,” I said to the Yherajk.

“Hi, pop,” he said.

“The ientcio” — Gwedif indicated the final Yherajk — “wishes to thank you once again for your great help and understanding, and assures you that you will undoubtedly become one of the great heroes of our race, something which I can tell you is already taken care of.”

“Thank him, and thank you,” I said to Gwedif.

“No problem,” Gwedif said. “The ientcio also wishes you to know that the honor of naming this newborn Yherajk belongs to you, as the Initiating Parent.”

“Thanks, but it was Uake’s idea,” I said. “I can’t claim credit.”

“Sure,” Gwedif said, “but your acceptance of the proposal in this case has been agreed by all the parents to be the initiating act. So it’s back to you. However, the ientcio, anticipating your reluctance, does indeed have a name picked out, which will be given to the newborn if you agree.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“We wanted a name that reflected the importance of this Yherajk to us, and hopefully his eventual importance to your own people, one that was immediately recognizable. What do you think of ‘Jesus’?”

I laughed unintentionally.

“See,” The Yherajk Who Would Be Jesus said. “I told them it wasn’t going to fly. But what do I know? I’m a newborn.” The sarcasm in his statement was unmistakable.

“It would be a very bad idea,” I said. “About half the folks on the planet would get very touchy about it.”

“Nuts,” Gwedif said. “Can you give us something else?”

I could. ‘Jesus,’ is the Latinized version of ‘Joshua,’ — a name that’s still in use, of course, and without the same religious overtones. It was also the name of my father, and, incidentally, of the baby that Sarah was carrying when she died — we found out it was a boy the month before. Elise and I aren’t planning to have children, Tom. So this Yherajk, which was only the smallest fraction of me, and only of my thoughts at that, was nevertheless the only ‘child’ I was likely to have. The name ‘Joshua’ had long been with me, and I was happy to finally give it a new home. Joshua was happy with it, too. Of course he would be — he would know what it means to me.

After I had named Joshua, Uake excused himself to attend to ship’s duties. As we shook ‘hands’, I managed a glance at my watch. It was 11:30 in the morning.

“Uh-oh,” I said. “I have to go.”

“You haven’t had a tour of the ship,” Gwedif said.

“Don’t bother,” Joshua said. “These people just do not know how to decorate.”

“I’d love to, but I’m late,” I said. “I already missed a day yesterday. By now my assistant Marcella has called my house looking for me. If I don’t show up at the office today, she’s going to file a missing person’s report.”

“Well, there’s a problem,” Gwedif said. “It’s daytime now. We can’t really risk being seen doing a drop.”

“So don’t do a drop,” Joshua said. “Make it a one way trip.”

“We could do that,” Gwedif said. “But there’s a problem with that, too.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It depends,” Joshua said. “How well can you control your sphincter muscles?”

Gwedif explained it as we headed to the hangar. They could build an unmanned cube the size of the pickup, launch it, and have it land near where we had departed. But, as with the ‘meteor’ and the black cube, it would have to arrive full-speed to avoid being picked up on radar for any length of time. Another thing: the cube would have to be transparent.

“Why?” I asked.

“Black cubes in the daytime sky are suspicious,” Gwedif said. “Red Datsun pickups in the daytime sky are merely unbelievable. Even if someone saw it, no one would know what to think of it. And that’s not a bad thing.”

“Good thing you haven’t had anything to eat in a while,” Joshua said.

A few minutes later, as I prepared to get behind the wheel of my pickup, I said my goodbyes to Gwedif and Joshua. I asked Gwedif when or if I would see him again.

“Probably not for a while,” Gwedif said. “When we send someone again, it will be Joshua. But even he will stay here for a few months, to benefit us with your knowledge — now his — as to how to approach humanity. We probably won’t see each other until the day our race makes its debut. But I look forward to that day, Carl. I will be happy when it arrives. We’ll finally take that stroll through the tivis gallery.”

“I can’t wait,” I said, and then turned to Joshua. “I look forward to seeing you again, then.”

“Thanks, pop,” Joshua said. “It’ll be soon. Get a better car by then.”