The odd sensation faded, replaced by something they hadn't experienced in years-the heaviness of being in a planet's gravitation. Theory told them there was no difference between weight caused by acceleration and the heaviness brought on by gravity, but Martin had the eerie sensation of knowing knowing the difference. the difference.

The protective fields did not diffuse through their bodies; they provided support for externals, but not for internal muscles and organs, and the heaviness immediately became oppressive, almost nauseating.

"Are you comfortable?" Salamander asked.

Eye on Sky made a squeaking sound. Martin looked to the Brother's hind section and saw cords letting go. The Brother smelled like a pine forest-euphoria and fear, he guessed.

"I feel a little sick," Martin said. Ariel said she was not comfortable.

The fields glowed and sparkled briefly, and the disparity faded. The Brothers did not completely disa.s.semble; the cords grabbed hold again. Paola's face took on color and Ariel let her fists relax.

"Better," Martin said.

Where the skeletal support suits had been displayed, an equally convincing view of the planet's surface appeared. They seemed to descend from an alt.i.tude of nine or ten kilometers. The horizon showed no curvature; the atmosphere, only a few kilometers thick, glimmered in a thin bright line between the dull red, black, and dark blue expanse of Sleep, and the starry blackness of s.p.a.ce.

Martin saw orderly features below, triangles, circles, lines of gray against the dull red and black, circles of white lying on the blue expanse of sea. Mountains appeared against the horizon, white rock capped with orange and pink, deep in shadow now.

Dawn was breaking, and from three hundred million kilometers, Leviathan's light poured over Sleep's sea and land, setting ablaze streamers of cloud and smoke from crustal vents.

Martin heard a faint whining noise-perhaps their craft singing through Sleep's atmosphere. Puffs of cloud shot past. He felt the planetary pull more intensely, but without much more discomfort.

He avoided thinking about how they were being manipulated. There was no practical way they could protect themselves against tampering. The Killers can change matter from a great distance. They could change parts of our own body to suit their purposes...kill us immediately, fill us with tiny spies, even control the way we think. The Killers can change matter from a great distance. They could change parts of our own body to suit their purposes...kill us immediately, fill us with tiny spies, even control the way we think.

He looked at Ariel, trying not to let his misery and fear show. She held out her hand, and he took it without hesitation. Paola held out her hand, too, and then Silken Parts extended a cord, and Paola took hold of that, and Ariel grasped a cord offered by Eye on Sky. Strong Cord connected with Martin and the circle was complete.

He didn't feel any less afraid, but he certainly felt less alone.

"Are you disturbed? Not comfortable?" Salamander asked.

Eye on Sky, who should have answered for the group, said nothing.

"We're comfortable," Martin said hoa.r.s.ely, and cleared his throat.

"We are not familiar with that communication," Salamander said, and repeated the sound of his throat clearing. "What does it mean?"

"An...organic sound," Martin said. "No meaning."

"Like my hissing and breathing," Salamander offered.

"Right," Martin said.

"Do my extraneous sounds bother you?"

"No," Martin said. Under other circ.u.mstances-if this masquerade were real-he thought he could feel affection for Salamander, so solicitous was the bishop vulture, trying to make their journey easier.

The wonderful, withdrawing blink of the beautiful amber eyes, the flushing pink of patches of the pastel green skin; the creature was actually quite beautiful. I'm flipping back and forth. Emotional strain. Keep it even. I'm flipping back and forth. Emotional strain. Keep it even.

The exposed crust of Sleep was incredibly rugged, a chaos of broken black rock, some blocks hundreds of meters wide, lying over and across each other with gla.s.sy extrusions sharp as knives. Between the blocks lay drifts of orange and pink powder, from which winds blew streaming hazes that glittered in the sunlight.

The ship still flew a few kilometers from the surface. Into their view came a stretch of sea, mottled blue-green, kilometer-wide white poker-chips floating motionless amid low, oily waves.

As they watched, a distant section of crust collapsed like an edge of glacier calving on Earth. A thick plume of black smoke arose, splaying out into a low anvil in seconds. Red highlights glowed through the murk.

"We will land on a platform in the ocean in three minutes," Salamander announced. "This must be very unfamiliar to you. Do you have any questions?"

"Thousands of questions," Martin said. "There just isn't time to ask them all."

"I we have one question," Eye on Sky said. "Is this planet natural, or artificial?"

"Both," Salamander said. "Once it was a small star. We have been changing it for thousands of years. First it was used as an energy and fuel source. Now, the easiest answer would be to say that it is artificial. It supplies commodities to the rest of our system."

The ocean filled more and more of their view, until only a line of black cliffs separated ocean from lurid, cloud-stripped sky.

"We are now on the platform. Your suits are in another room. We will leave the craft when you are prepared. At no time will you be exposed to the actual atmosphere, which is not suitable for your biology, and rich with small organisms that might be dangerous to you, besides."

Part of the wall moved aside and they stepped carefully, aided by the fields, into another room, this one equipped with a low stage. The skeletal suits hung from the ceiling above the stage.

"Do you think we're alone?" Paola asked. "Everything projected, remote-controlled?"

"Could be," Martin said.

Eye on Sky produced a smell of tea and soil. "Useless to make guesses," he said.

Salamander's voice instructed them to stand on the stage. Wrapped by their fields, they moved, with some difficulty, to spots marked by faint glows of light. A small, perfect image of each of them appeared next to the appropriate suit, like a nametag. Martin stood before his suit, facing it. "Turn around, please, with your backs to the suits."

He turned. The suit whispered behind him and his neck hair bristled. Its fluid "bones" wrapped around him, gripping him comfortably.

He moved experimentally. The suit moved effortlessly with him.

Useless to make guesses. Everything a mystery. Ants in a kitchen.

"You will be surrounded by invisible barriers when outside. Your breathing should be natural, and you should not worry. We caution against these things only: do not move rapidly, and do not move away from the path or away from your group."

"Right," Martin said. He watched the Brothers getting used to their suits, flexing them, raising three fourths of their lengths from the stage. Ariel lifted her arms experimentally, c.o.c.ked her head, looked at Martin sidewise.

"Comfortable?" he asked. Ariel and Paola nodded; Strong Cord and Eye on Sky put their suits through more tests before concurring. "We're ready," Martin told the unseen Salamander.

"The ship will debark you in an open area. You should enjoy experiencing the surface as directly as possible. It is quite beautiful. There is no danger, but if you would like to avoid this, we can remove this part of your journey."

Eye on Sky answered, "We we would like to see the surface."

Martin didn't disagree, but he was not enthusiastic. He had seen enough marvels and spectacle already to be spiritually exhausted.

The s.p.a.cecraft opened around them and stowed itself like a folding screen, leaving them on the white stage, surrounded by an immensity of gray and black sky, midnight blue ocean, dark cliffs rising thousands of meters above the sea. He could feel the flesh-thumping sound of distant explosions, grindings of crust; hear noise like giants groaning and whistling. The sudden openness was unnerving. His hands trembled within the pliant grip of the skeletal suits.

"Wow," Ariel said, her face pale. The air within Martin's field was self-contained, and he could not smell the Brothers. But he could smell his own reaction-rank fear.

The weight on his stomach and lungs gave him sharp twinges of pain, as if strings tied to pins in his organs were being tugged. Martin doubted he would want to spend more than a few hours on the surface of Sleep.

A causeway reached across the sea to a broad white disk. Salamander's voice spoke in his right ear: "Your suits will walk you over this distance. The disk is a kind of ferry. You will be taken to a sh.o.r.e station, and there will meet with more of our representatives. Are you experiencing discomfort?"

"I'm fine," Martin said.

The suit nudged him and he tried to walk but it resisted. Finally he relaxed and the suit did all his work for him, moving him like a puppet, a sensation he did not enjoy. They were all guided over the causeway to the disk, which promptly disengaged and moved smoothly through the thick, rapid waves.

Martin's vision coa.r.s.ened and the landscape became more vivid. This might have been an effect of gravity; it also might have been an effect of the field containing his atmosphere.

Useless to make guesses.

The ferry skirted a thick ma.s.s of green covering a few hundred square meters, undulating on the seas, large bubbles rising and breaking through like explosions in fibrous mud.

"One of our types finds these waters comfortable," Salamander said. "An individual would enjoy seeing you. Is this okay with you?"

"Acceptable," Eye on Sky said.

Seconds later, a bright red nightmare of jointed arms pushed through the water and heaved part of itself onto the ferry. Paola gave a little squeak and backed close to Martin. The Brothers seemed frozen in place, making no comments, weathering this surfeit of experience.

The nightmare's arms parted with a motion combining the curl of a squid's tentacles and the up-and-down pistoning of a spider's legs. A remarkable "face" appeared, four glittering egg-shaped eyes in a ma.s.s of glossy black flesh, surrounded by alternating fleshy rings of yellow and gray.

"This type serves a capacity like a farmer in these seas, but makes many decisions in our political framework," Salamander explained. "Its kind denies the value of artificial enhancements. Like you, it eats, and is very strict about what it eats, and when, and how. Perhaps in the future you may hold discussions. You may share sympathies."

"Sure," Martin said dubiously. He very much wanted it to go away.

The simple expansiveness of sea and sky bothered him more than he could have imagined. He was so used to the confines of the ships, enclosed universes...

To his relief, the creature pushed away from the raft and vanished into the waves.

"It had at least thirty arms," Paola said. "I couldn't count them all!"

Another voice spoke in his ear: Erin Eire on Double Seed. Double Seed. "How's the trip, Martin?" "How's the trip, Martin?"

He stuttered for a moment, surprised by the communication. "We're healthy," he said. "It's big big down here. Wide open s.p.a.ces." down here. Wide open s.p.a.ces."

"Sounds lovely," Erin said. "You look a little tied up in those suits. We're all watching here-both crews. The transmissions are clear. We're overhead now. Look up and you might see us."

Martin looked up but saw nothing in the muddy blackness. "No visual," he said.

"Too bad. Don't feel lonely."

Salamander's voice returned. "We will pa.s.s around this promontory."

Waves slid up against jagged blocks of crust with tremendous force but little spray, rivulets of water fleeing quickly back to the ocean. The ferry came within a hundred meters of the turmoil, and pa.s.sed around a high point of black and brown rock rising like a squat tower.

Beyond the promontory, at the far side of a deep harbor, three rocky tunnel mouths opened, each about fifty meters high and perhaps forty wide. Square tongues of polished gray stone pushed out of the tunnels into the harbor.

Even from a few kilometers, Martin heard the deep breath of the tunnels, felt the airborne shudder of water rushing in, pushing out.

The ferry crossed the harbor quickly and the tunnels loomed, making sounds such as Odysseus might have heard approaching Scylla and Charybdis. The light of Leviathan fell behind the headland now, and murky shadow surrounded them, broken by the white luminosity of their ferry. Ariel's face appeared ghostly, shadows of cheeks, chin and nose rising across her eyes.

"Are we going in there?" Paola asked.

"Yes," Salamander answered. "We will dock at the second tunnel from your left. Transportation will arrive soon. Within the station, there are type individuals of some of the beings occupying our system. They will speak with you."

"Martin," Paola said, "I think the Brothers are having problems."

Martin looked at Eye on Sky and Silken Parts, both shivering within their suits. Strong Cord seemed fine, sliding beside his companions with solicitous sounds, squirks and clatters. "What's wrong?" Martin asked.

"This is what is seen when disa.s.sembled," Eye on Sky said, voice harsh and uneven. "This is the cave of youth on the sh.o.r.e, where young come together as braids after cords fight."

"Paola, what do you know about this?"

"Something about adulthood rituals...Nothing in their literature that I've found. Maybe it's deep memory."

"It is intimate," Strong Cord said. "Difficulty buried in minds of cords. I we are disturbed, but we we more disturbed."

"Salamander, some of us are having problems," Martin said.

"How may we help?" Salamander's voice asked.

"Can you block off the view, cover us?" Martin asked. A white canopy rose from the disk like a pleated piece of paper and unfolded over them, blocking the sky but not the view ahead.

Eye on Sky's trembling stopped. Silken Parts continued to shiver for a few more seconds, then writhed spasmodically and became still, again in control.

What else can go wrong? Martin faced the immense tunnel openings without the Brothers' deep-seated concerns, but also without any enthusiasm. This entire journey seemed calculated to overawe, and despite Eye on Sky's agreement to this journey, that said nothing good about their hosts. Rather than manufacture comfortable surroundings, they seemed to want to test their guests- Martin faced the immense tunnel openings without the Brothers' deep-seated concerns, but also without any enthusiasm. This entire journey seemed calculated to overawe, and despite Eye on Sky's agreement to this journey, that said nothing good about their hosts. Rather than manufacture comfortable surroundings, they seemed to want to test their guests- Test. Gather information about reactions to strenuous conditions. The Killers had done that on Earth with even less mercy. Gather information about reactions to strenuous conditions. The Killers had done that on Earth with even less mercy.

The disk b.u.mped gently against the edge of the dock. A ramp smoothed out to join with the disk.

"You may walk by yourselves," Salamander's voice informed them. Eye on Sky went first, skeletal white suit rippling. Paola followed, then Martin, and finally all stood on the hard dark gray surface.

The disk sank beneath the fast thick waves. No way back-is that the meaning? Is there any meaning, or just insensitivity to aliens whose psychology they know nothing about? No way back-is that the meaning? Is there any meaning, or just insensitivity to aliens whose psychology they know nothing about?

The tunnel's ceiling hung over them like the edge of a black void. The floor beneath advanced into shadow.

Silken Part's dark cords became part of the obscurity beyond; his suit seemed to stand by itself, moving like a cartoon spook. Ariel stepped closer. "I think we should get back to the ship in a couple of hours," she said to Martin.

A tiny simulacrum of a bishop vulture-Frog or Salamander-appeared in the tunnel, perfect in every detail. Martin adjusted his focus to learn whether the image was floating deep back in the tunnel, or nearby, and found it was only a meter from his face, a few centimeters in size. Surprised, Ariel dodged the simulacrum as if it were an insect. She straightened in her suit with a pained expression.

"Salamander, we need to be back in our ship within two hours," Martin said. The simulacrum grew larger, like an object seen in a zoom lens. Martin heard Salamander's voice from that direction.

"The meetings will last only twenty minutes this first time," it said. "You will be returned to your ship after that, and other meetings will be planned."

A bright red circle appeared deep in the tunnel. "Please move toward the circle. You will see," Salamander a.s.sured them.

The three Brothers slithered ahead, apparently recovered from their initial difficulties.

At first, Martin could see nothing beyond their immediate surround. The six of them-and Salamander's floating image-were clearly visible. As his eyes grew accustomed, he made out more and more, seeing first an uncertain wavelike motion on the distant walls, then shades and details.

The walls churned. Blocky shapes crawled up in lines like geometric slugs, deflected by obstacles that extruded into their paths. Near the edge of the floor, splashing, sucking sounds told him that water flowed either in hidden gutters or through deep channels beneath.