A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [62]
Suppressing the urge to worry about his parents, Anton reminded himself that Margaret and Louis Colicos had always been self-sufficient and prepared for unexpected setbacks. All his life, his mother and father had emphasized to him that they loved their work. And, despite the risks, they would not want to do anything else.
Just like Anton, here in Mijistra. At last.
Ildirans disembarked from the crowded passenger liner, where the travelers had been pressed together inside the communal areas. Though Anton relished solitude for quiet study and meditation, these aliens thrived on each other’s company. He didn’t think Ildirans ever did anything alone.
Anton moved down the ramp with clusters of Ildirans of various kith forms and body types. Looking past the crowd of disembarking passengers, he searched for the revered historian Vao’sh. Anton had studied Ildiran culture and knew full well how to identify a rememberer kithman. As the lone human in the group, Anton would, of course, be easy to spot.
Then he saw one short-statured Ildiran in solar-power-striped robes waving at him. The greeter’s facial features were different from those of the soldiers and noble ambassadors he had met aboard the liner. Anton bounded away from the ramp, the weariness of the journey falling away like rain from a slicker. “Are you Rememberer Vao’sh?”
The historian repeated his name, carefully demonstrating the proper pronunciation, and the young man rolled the sound through his mouth until he got the correct tone. Vao’sh spread his hands wide at his hips, palms upward. “And you are Anton Colicos, the human teller of tales and keeper of history?”
“That sounds much more impressive than ‘postdoctoral scholar’ or ‘associate professor.’ ” Anton reached out to shake the rememberer’s right hand, startling the Ildiran, who then imitated the gesture. “I’m not used to people treating what I do with any sort of respect, much less reverence.”
“How could they not revere one who tells the stories of your species?”
“Humans don’t necessarily consider storytellers to be very…practical.”
The Ildiran historian guided him along a curving walkway into a cluster of free-form towers amid trickling fountains and gemlike sculptures. Mirrors and sundials cast interesting shadow patterns along the streets.
Although Anton was normally a reserved person, enthusiasm made him loquacious. He had never felt comfortable addressing conferences or speaking at banquets, but now he forgot all shyness. “I’ve dreamed of an opportunity like this my whole life. I applied to Ildira three separate times before this, you know. I was afraid your Mage-Imperator had instituted a policy of secrecy.”
The emotional lobes on Vao’sh’s face flushed different colors, a chameleon’s palette of expressive displays unique to the rememberer kith, who used them in entertaining their audiences. Anton did not yet know how to interpret all the hues.
“It does no good to keep secrets,” Vao’sh said. “Each of us is a character in the grand tale of the cosmos, and the Saga of Seven Suns is itself but the tiniest fraction of the overall epic. Yet too few of us ask questions.” Vao’sh led him past a thin sheet of water that streamed down the outer wall of a city tower.
“Then I’ll ask a question.” Anton drank in the sculptures and prismatic murals around him, not sure where to turn his attention. “Why was my request finally approved? I know other researchers have applied and been turned down.”
Vao’sh smiled. “I was impressed by the way you presented yourself, Anton Colicos. Your impassioned application convinced me that you and I are kindred spirits.”
“I, um…don’t even remember what I said.”
The colors on the historian’s face warmed like sunshine leaking into a cloudy sky. “You called yourself a ‘rememberer’ of human epics, one of the few men who know your species’ ancient poems and story cycles. I have read some of the stories translated by human scholars long ago, but I felt in them only a detached academic air. No depth of feeling, no exuberance