Bowl of Heaven

twelve-magnitude.”

Until this moment she had not fully appreciated how strange the aliens were, even though she had seen into their minds. This was the nub of it: They loved novelty, excitement, and motion — even though it might mean death.

Whereas the Folk wisely lived in the perfect conditions for them, precisely to give life a constancy, a gliding sense of time that belied the issues of beginnings and endings. The reward was a place beyond the natural places, a machine for living that spun, as did worlds, and yet did so to maintain the constancy that was the point of the Folk. They froze time for the span of their species and perhaps beyond. Evolution of the Folk of course occurred. But the aim of artifice was to constrain this, maintaining a close watch, so that the Folk could be in their exalted state. Thus they had thrived now through immense long tides of time, a fact well understood by each succeeding generation. The highest function of a species was surely to suspend the rude, blunt blow of happenstance, and control their own destiny. The Astronomers governed not just the relations between the Bowl and the heavens, but the Bowl Lifeshaping as well.

She thought on this, all the while letting the comments and open disputes work themselves through the assembly. When it had played out, she said with due gravity, “The primates may know some of our history — but it is so vast! They cannot comprehend it.”

This brought applause. The Adopted held as a matter of faith and history that the Bowl’s serene constancy was the goal of all wise life. So did all the intellectual classes — Savants, Profounds, and Keepers. So what if primates knew a tiny fraction of the Saga?

Of course, her true mission here was to damp their fears. She reminded the audience of their resources, and let members of the search teams tell of their glancing contacts with the primates. None from the party who had lost their magcar, because the primates had killed them all. She mentioned this, to set the stage.

Now they would rehearse the enveloping movement planned to ensnare the roving primate band, the one that had found what they called the Field of History, which Astronomers termed the Past Worlds. A distant team would carry forward that hunt.

Memor asked, “So much for abstractions. I am here to direct your hunt for those who have already killed some of the Folk. I gather you recorded their entry at a Conveyance Station?”

Some of the Adopted nodded eagerly. “Yes, Astronomer! We have the sky creatures ready to depart.”

“Most excellent. A long while has lapsed since I experienced the thrill of running down dangerous prey. Let us take to the air, then.”

Nothing would get in their way now, since they had the primates located to a region. When captured, she forbade any questioning of them. A few chance remarks could wreck entire established structures of Bowl society. She could take no chance that anyone should come to know of the Great Shame.

FORTY-FIVE

The alien regarded them with its large eyes and made a curious squatting motion, its sinewy arms held out to the sides. With the large pancake hands and thick fingers, it formed a twisting architecture in the air. Its name was Quert, its Folk the Sil. Its graceful form moved restlessly, pacing among the odd chairs where the humans sat and ate. The train was moving fast now, and the staccato snick-snick-snick of the electromagnetic handoffs propelling it forward rang constantly in the background.

Quite deliberately it said, “Bon voyage. Buon viaggio. Gute Reise. Buen viaje. Viagem boa. Goede reis. Ha en bra resa. God tur. Bonum iter. ”

Silence. They all looked at one another.

Irma said brightly, “Those are words for parting. We are joining.”

“Misalignment?” the alien said. “Then — ” And silky words came from it, good-bye in several human languages.

Irma said slowly, carefully, “We are happy you have learned our languages. Very good. We all speak Anglish.”

“I have compressor knowledge. Now can adjust.”

Cliff said, “Where did you get such data on our languages?”

“Astronomers. They sent all to hunters.”

“You are a hunter?”

“We Sils, true. Also others.”

“What kind of others?”

“Others of Adopted.”

“Who are — ?”

“Those brought here. Not species made in Bowl.”

“From other planets?”

“True.” The big yellow eyes studied them all in turn. “Like you.”

“We haven’t been — ”

“Now to be Adopted. That is goal Astronomers.”

Irma asked, “Adopted … how?”

“Genes. Social rules. Status adjustment.” This came out as hard, firm statements from the narrow mouth. Cliff wondered about inferring emotions from facial signatures in aliens, but this case at least seemed clear. The constricted face oozed resentment.

“What next?” Terry asked, puzzled.

“Large sharing comes soon,” the catlike alien said. “Onto here I-we came to speak and share help. Have time now little.”

“Why?” Aybe asked. They were having trouble understanding the slippery slide of Quert’s words and the odd context.

“Stop soon, will. Others come.”

“So we — ?”

“Leave next stop. Must.”

Quert flexed its hands. They had six fingers ending in sharp nails. The palm was broad and covered by fine hairs. Now that Cliff studied the creature, he saw it was clothed in a subtle woven fabric that mimicked the tan- colored fine hairs. Perhaps that helped camouflage it?

“How long do we have until the next stop?” Aybe asked, looking edgy.

“Short.” Then Quert stopped prowling and looked at each of them in turn. “The Sky Rule will come.”

“Those who are after us?” Aybe asked.

“I have fellows there. We may share violence.”

“We all?” Irma asked.

“Must quick,” Quert said with slippery vowels, and fished from its clothes an oddly sloped cylinder with a transparent lens at one end. “You carry force?”

“You mean weapons?” Terry asked.

“Wea — yes. My vocabulary adjusting. Do I need of your tongues other?”

“Those languages?” Irma thought. “No. But — the Astronomers gave you all those?”

“They had from other primates, or so said.”

“You can un-learn a language?”

Quert’s eyes then did something startling. They elongated up and down, an expression with no human parallel. Cliff realized it must mean surprise or puzzlement. Quert said, “Must do. Am crowded and slow now.”

Then the graceful creature sat at last and closed its eyes. Its eyelids vibrated as if shaken from behind and it did not move. Cliff noted the slowing of the snick-snick-snicks.

The electromagnetic handoffs now turned to braking. “Should we hide?” Howard asked. “If we’re to get out — ”

Quert abruptly sat up, shook its head. “Gone. Better.” It looked around at them quizzically, as if coming out of a deep sleep. “Yes. Get down so they not see. Then leave we.”