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As he lay prone in the harness which was designed to support three
Shakaleeshva but which had been modified to accommo-date his single, far
larger human frame, Ross contemplated what had been a most remarkable
relationship. He was going to miss Jed. Certainly the Enlightenment was the
most interesting dead person he'd ever known, even if he wasn't human.
It was a good thing he wasn't claustrophobic, because the drop craft was only
a little bigger than a single-engined plane. His shoulders barely fit the
confines of the life-support compartment.
Something clicked softly and he was suddenly falling, the tiny vessel being
much too small to support any kind of artificial gravity. For several minutes
he was afraid he was going to spew partially digested blue paste all over the
interior, but as the craft entered the earth's atmosphere and gravity
returned, so did control of his stomach.
Considering the size of his vehicle and the velocity at which it was
descending, it was just as well that there were no ports or windows. He had to
rely entirely on the Shakaleeshva, though even if he could see where he was
going he couldn't affect the outcome. If he slammed into an ocean there wasn't
much he'd be able to do.
The feeling of falling at great speed lessened. There was a bump, then
another, and then all sense of motion ceased. Hidden servos whined and the top
of the little vessel slid back. Moist, thick air filled his nostrils, then his
lungs. It stank of green growing things.
A single touch released the restraining harness, allowing him to sit up. The
ship rested on damp soil, surrounded by tall trees and stately palms. Strange
bird sounds fluted the air. An iridescent blue butterfly the size of his palm
investigated his face before moving on. It was rain forest, but very unlike
theYucatan . The trees and palms were too widely spaced, the undergrowth
utterly different. No monkeys gibbered in the canopy, and while plentiful, the
local insect life seemed less aggressive.
Climbing out, he was careful to step over a line of green ants traveling
single file. As he bent to inspect an indifferent pair of bright green
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golden-eyed tree frogs squatting on a nearby log, a panel popped open in the
drop ship's side.
Gliding out under its own power was a singular figure. The survival suit was
of different design; a little sleeker, a touch more elaborately instrumented.
No doubt it was some of the latter which granted the unit mobility. As it
inclined to the vertical he got his first look at the contents.
Three eyes shut tight, arms and legs hanging limply, Jed the dead could not
stare back at him. But he could perceive, and he could talk. Somehow the
artificially reproduced voice succeeded in conveying amused delight.
"Hello, Ross Ed."
"Jed!" Ross would have enveloped the alien in a trueTexas bear hug, except he
feared damaging the suit's external instru-mentation. "What the hell are you
doing here?"
"I was not designated the Enlightenment because of a paucity of imagination.
Even deceased, I like to think I'm a little smarter and a little cleverer than
the majority of the living."
"That sounds like a writer, all right." Shaking his head and grinning, Ross
Ed chose an antless log and sat down. "How'd you pull it off?"
"While everyone else was busy attending to your needs, I was attending to
mine. I had been offered a new survival suit immediately after our arrival on
board the flagship. I accepted, but put off making the transfer until last
night. Once broadcast neuromuscular facility had been regained, it was a
relatively simple matter for me to program not one, but two of these marvelous
little craft. My old survival suit, together with my personal signature, was
on my instruction loaded aboard the duplicate vessel. None of the scientists
aboard the survey ship which dropped us here paid it any mind, assuming it to
be part of someone else's experiment.
"Similarly, I was able to maneuver myself when no one was looking into the
modest cargo bay of your craft long before you were loaded. My only fear was
that I would be discovered during the ceremony of departure. But only the
life-support bay was checked, to ensure your comfort. I, of course, was
perfectly content in the cargo compartment, since I carry my own survival
system with me.
"When this craft was released, so was its mate. Instrumenta-tion on board the
survey vessel will record the event as a single drop signature. Adjustments I
performed to camouflage instruc-tions will have hidden our craft not only from
your kind's primitive detection devices but also from my own."
"They'll still come looking for you," Ross Ed warned.
"And they'll find me, by tracing the drop signature. Or at least, they'll
find my old survival suit. Then they really will be confused. They won't know
whether I've gone to ground on this world or simply shot myself out into
space, where, if nothing else, there can be found eternal peace. No trace of
my manipu-lations remains aboard either the survey vessel or the flagship. I
made certain of that before I put my little enterprise into effect.
"Your world is large, crowded, and off-limits to general exploration. This
time I won't be found."
"No? What if they come looking for me, to ask me questions?"
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"My dear aborigine, did you think I ever gave them the coordinates you
selected for me? If they come looking for you at all they will have to find a
way to search a large metropolitan complex halfway around the world. The
Culakhan, should they return, will have an even more difficult time. I don't
think anyone will try it. Besides, it doesn't matter. You and I are here, not
there."
Half expecting to see an isolated storm cloud drifting specu-latively through
the sky overhead, Ross Ed rose from the log.
Sweat was pouring down his face. He wasn't properly dressed for the climate,
but that could be fixed soon enough.
"Sure this is what you want?"
A hissing sound issued from the larynx. "I am nobody's monument! I intend to
enjoy my death, thank you."
"What about this little ship, and the other one?"
"The other's self-destruct sequence was preengaged. I will now activate this
one."
In less than five minutes nothing remained of the Shaka-leeshva drop craft
except a few wisps of smoke, its molecular structure having been completely
broken down. A prospector passing through might have been struck by the
remnants of certain exotic metals and other substances underfoot, had he
bothered to examine the ground in the immediate vicinity, but such an
encounter in this place was highly unlikely.
"Much better," the Enlightenment observed with satisfaction. "What now? You
chose this location, Ross Ed. Not I."
"I guess we walk. Or rather, I do. I'd better carry you in case we're seen.
If we landed in the right place we ought to find people or a road pretty
soon."
"I can finesse my new suit's levitation function to ease your burden. We need
to acquire another backpack." The corpse rose and drifted forward to settle
gendy into the Texan's waiting arms.
Sure enough, it took less than an hour's walk to hit a narrow, paved road.
Hitching a ride into the nearest town, Ross Ed chatted amiably with the
trucker who'd picked them up. The man glanced at Jed but asked no questions.
As Ross was soon to learn, he'd chosen an area where folks didn't pry into
other people's business.
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