Power Play - Anne McCaffrey [105]
He took a deep breath and opened the inner door to the communion chamber. Warm mist obscured everything, making him feel as if he had stepped into a steam bath, and he immediately felt a strong presence that had nothing to do with Dinah or her crew. Well, he had been assured by sane and intelligent people that the planet definitely had a persona.
“Good morning,” he said, feeling just a trifle foolish, but if the planet understood, then it would appreciate normal courtesies, too. “And it is morning and I expect that you’ve had a busy time of it lately, but I did wish a few words with you.”
“Few words.”
Was that permission? Or limitation? Namid wondered.
“They might be more than a few, actually,” Namid went on, smiling. “I’ve so many questions to ask.”
“Many questions.”
Again Namid wondered if that was permission or limitation. But it had sounded, to his untutored ear, as if the speaker was slightly amused by his presumption.
“I’m told that you do communicate, or rather go into a communion phase with . . . what should I call it? With supplicants? No, that’s much too religious a word. Communicants? Ah, yes, I think that is best. Now, first, is there anything I can do to assist you right now? Remove the occupants that spent the night here? I can’t see them for the fog but . . .”
Namid had—not quite stealthily, but slowly—felt his way farther into the cavern. Before he took another step, however, the fog suddenly sucked itself back into the farthest reaches of the cave and vanished, leaving him awestricken and speechless for several moments as he watched the gentle play of light and color across the surfaces of the cave.
“You are rather stunning in appearance, you know,” he said in a hushed voice. The shifting colors of the walls were coruscations of complex blendings and wave designs. He rather suspected he could spend hours following the patterns as they made their way deeper and deeper into the cavern. The path was level now, where before it had been on a slight downward incline. “Am I well into this communion place now?”
“Now!”
“Ah, then,” Namid said, “I’m an astronomer, you see. I have spent my life observing the anomalies of stellar matter, with particular emphasis on variables. Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”
“Talk.”
“Well, now, I’m certainly willing to, although I am not a lecturer by training. Still, to talk to a planet, the satellite of a rather . . . ah . . .”—not ordinary, Namid said to himself, not wishing to offend Petaybee—“. . . an excellent example of a G-type star . . . well, it’s an extraordinary experience, if you know my meaning.”
“Know meaning. Talk.”
“I’ve seen many stars, constant, dwarf, variable, binary systems, everything so far astronomically categorized, but speaking to a planet is highly unusual.”
Namid, aware that nervousness was making him more garrulous than was natural, thought