Find the Changeling by Gregory Benford & Gordon Eklund

Author:Gregory Benford & Gordon Eklund
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780575118379
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2011-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

Once each Alvean year, Fain knew, the leaders of the various castes gathered in all the planet’s major cities to decide in a series of open meetings the general patterns to be followed by the entire world during the time of the next year. Fain thought the whole idea was crazy: decisions had to be reached on the spot—they could never be planned that far in advance. But Skallon insisted that for the Alveans with their weak governmental structure, the meetings were a necessary and very sensible democratic institution. Fain just shrugged. He also knew what wondrous opportunities such a system offered a Changeling.

Danon had left them at the door. On their own, Fain and Skallon managed to squeeze into the interior of the Great Hall. Despite its size, the hall was already packed past the bursting point. Fain saw every conceivable shade of the rainbow represented by someone’s billowing attire. Like every public place on the planet, the hall exuded a stale pungent odor. The babble of shrill, shouting voices stung his ears.

Spotting an empty chair off to his left, Fain started to move toward it, but Skallon grabbed his arm.

“No, not there.”

“Why not?” Fain had to shout to be heard. “My feet are killing me.” The extra padding he wore more than offset the weak Alvean gravity; Fain found that his legs ached constantly.

“Because we have to be seated with our own caste, with the other Doubluths.” Skallon pointed to a distant splotch of dull purple. “There they are—over there.”

Fain suppressed a groan. Skallon, as eager as ever, began clearing a path through the mob. Fain had said nothing to Skallon, but he seriously wondered whether their presence here was serving much good. Would the Changeling, fully aware that it was being pursued, be apt to make any sort of move in such an open and obvious place? Logic said that it wouldn’t. Changelings knew their work well, and there were a hundred subtle ways of bringing down a planet without ever once attending a meeting like this. But Changelings also liked to do brazen things. They liked to taunt and sneer and take crazy risks. Changelings never thought at all, never planned, and that was what made them so dangerous.

At the edge of the purple section of seats—Fain noted sadly that every chair was already filled—Skallon glided to a stop, laid his hands neatly together under his chin, and murmured, “We have come to express a desire to join our brothers in consultation.”

Fain, who had been thoroughly briefed on the necessity for this ritual, did likewise. For a long moment, however, none of the Doubluths seated near them gave the slightest hint of recognition. Most seemed busily engaged chatting with a neighbor. Their words came too quickly for Fain to overhear.

Then, somewhere near the middle of the group, a man stood up, smiled, waved, and began moving toward him. Fain, his hands still tightly clasped, watched the Alveans progress with some interest. This was the first really old man he could recall seeing on the planet.

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