C j cherryh, p.8
C J Cherryh, page 8
“One more killer on the loose, that’s all. You know what you can do with her.” “I’m not going to get rid of her. She’s safe where she is and she’s hurting no one.”
“We aren’t safe so long as she’s in that room, a room, what’s more, fit for people, while I got men sleeping in barracks. I tell you as plain as I know how, I don’t like it. I don’t like it under the same roof as I am, screaming out in the night for no reason, snarling and spitting like a wild animal-“ “She’s quieter now, if she’s been disturbing your sleep.” “Is quieter any reason to believe she’s safer? Female or not, there’s no reckoning of that so far as I’m concerned. They’re all killers, all of them. She’ll draw others. I have no doubt of that. And we’re vulnerable, real vulnerable, depending on that warehouse, on Celestine, on our guard-posts out here. Men have tried to fight them before and taken precautions; and still woke up with the house afire or worse.”
“I’m not denying there’s a danger.”
Then why risk it? What good is it? Merritt-if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect there was something more than curiosity on your side.” “You can keep your suspicions to yourself, Mr. Porter. The fact is, in my mind she’s too close to human; and I don’t have to kill her. I don’t take murder as a casual option; and murder’s what it would be.”
“They’re another species, not human. Murder isn’t the word.”
“It is as I see it.”
“Then-“ Portergestured again to the Upriver. “That lake’s going to commit a lot of murder, isn’t it?”
“I’ll fight for my own kind when I have to; but not when there’s no need. So I’ll be selective about my atrocities. Don’t worry about your dam. It’s going all right.And faster if you get me more men on it.” And on that, he walked off and left Porter standing. Proximity was too great a temptation, and Porter was too necessary. He put the man and his manner out of his mind, and walked down to the edge, where the crews were gathering up their gear and still waiting on those who had to walk the bridge first and inspect the ropes. They were returning finally, along with thefarside guards. He gave a casual wave to the others, but when the guards had reached the near side and caught sight of him, they pushed their way past the waiting men and came directly toward him. The rest crowded behind them to bear. “We had a bad night,” said one of theBurases , who had been thefarside guards. “Mr. Merritt, we had plenty of visitors; we could see them plain. We saw them near the ropes, and fired at them-it scattered them, but I think we’d better delay work until we’ve scoured the area. Don’t know what they could have set up for mantraps.”
Merrill nodded calmly. “We’ll do that, then. You did a good job, or we wouldn’t have a bridge this morning. We’ll have to doublefarside guard after this. Did you see any sign of them this morning?”
“Plenty of tracks, no bodies.But we thought we hit one or two. Could be they took the dead ones with them or they could have fallen into the canyon. We’d never recover them then.”
“It’s getting dangerous out there,” the other man said. “Don’t mind guarding, but I sure want help at it.”
Merrill nodded again.“Whatever it takes. We haven’t lost any lives yet and we’re not going to.Volunteers, get over the other side and look around, carefully. I’ll go with you.”
“No, sir,” said the elder Burns cousin.“No, sir. We aren’t taking chances with you. Don’t want our only engineer stumbling into something; we know the land. But won’t anybody get much done this morning until we have ourselves a look around.”
Sazhjewas, as usual, perched on the tabletop. She never had understood the comfort of furniture: although she had a cot and a chair, she never used either, but dragged the bedding to the table and made her nest under it, sleeping there at night and sitting atop it at other times, under whatever logic no one had discovered.
Dinner was a time she seemed to anticipate; and each evening that Jim and Merritt came to bring her food, she would bounce down from her perch and pace excitedly back and forth just out of arm’s reach. Of late, she would even venture to take the food from them, snatching and jerking back. This evening, she reached tentatively to Jim’s offering, jerked back, and then took it with a sudden move; but she seemed more at ease in their presence, as if the wariness itself had become a ritual. She sprang up to the table again and sat there eating and watching them until she was almost finished. “Ssam-Zhim,” she pronounced, as she would do sometimes conversationally, and offered them a half-eaten apple. Jim, venturing nipped fingers, took it and took a bite.
“Zhim,” she said, took it back when he offered and gravely took another bite. Her smooth brow furrowed as in very deep thought, and on her way to another bite she held it out again. “Ah?”
“Sazhje’sapple,” said Jim.
“Sazhjeap-ph.”The syllables came with difficulty, but they were understandable. She had a few words, intelligible to those who knew her small vocabulary. “SazhjeZhim-Ssam.” And what that was to mean was beyond guessing, butSazhje came off the table and circled a little out of reach, as if she wanted to come closer, but feared to.
“Come,” Merritt said. She knew that word. She ventured within reach, held out her hand to touch his, and then Jim’s, then appeared greatly alarmed by her own boldness and retreated again.
“Come,” Merritt said again.
Sazhjehesitated,then went to the table where she had left her last piece of fruit, picked it up and brought it to them, offering it with great seriousness. When Jim took it from her, she bent down and tugged at the chain at her ankle, looked up and held out her open hands to them.
“She wants that off so bad,” said Jim. “Sam, what’s it going to hurt?”
“Her,” Merritt said. “No. It stays on.”
She looked quite dejected when they did nothing for her request, and she went back to her table and sat down again. Jim went to her, though he was taking a chance, and patted her shoulder. She actually preened under that attention, turning her head so that her cheek touched his hand. She chattered something in her own language, if language it was, and looked melancholy. “You’ve got a friend,” said Merritt.
“Think so. Now watch her turn and take my hand off.” ButSazhje did nothing of the sort. She reached up a spidery arm and patted Jim’s shoulder, cluttering something unintelligible. She reached as far as his head and touched his hair, apparently curious, tugging very slightly at the curls.
“Zhim,” she said, and a smile jerked slightly at her thin lips.“Zhim-Ssam.” It was the first time they had ever drawn a smile from her. Jim recklessly set her down off her table and she tolerated it,then decided apparently that it had not been a hostile move at all. She slipped a little out of reach and regarded them both with a coquettish half-smile and a turn of her head, but then inexplicably went shy again and would not be approached. She hissed at them and bared her teeth.
“She’s had enough,” said Merritt “Let’s not press her.” Merritt folded the notes back again, left them on the desk, and started to undress for bed. It was just as he was starting to take off his boots that he heard a strange sound from down the hall: one ofSazhje’s irritation screams, muted, as she had never cared to restrain herself before. He stood up, listened, heard nothing; but the recollection oftestings at the bridge troubled him. On that impulse, he quietly took his gun and opened the door, headed quietly down thelamplit hall without raising an alarm: he had no desire to add toSazhje’s unpopularity by rousing the house unnecessarily. The door was bolted from the outside as it ought to be: they had seen to that after dinner. He slid back the bolt in utter silence and turned the handle, pushed it open on the darkness within.
Sazhjewas as close to the shuttered window as she couldreach, a shadow among shadows. As she turned and saw him she gave out a soft chirring and her large eyes caught the light. Twice something bumped at the shingled ledge outside, or at the window itself, and went still.
Merritt stopped; he had too much respect forSazhje’s speed to venture to that window himself. He closed the door on her, rushed for the balcony over the main hall, to shout warning; andSazhje let out a piercing cry, enough to warn any intruders and rouse the sleeping house before Merritt could call aloud. The alarm was given outside almost in the same moment; there was a clanging of pans and men were shouting, rushing for weapons. A heavy fist pounded on the front door and a human voice shouted; Merritt pelted downstairs and slid the bar back. Others were coming from all parts of the house half-dressed and fully armed behind him.
It was Andrews at the door, George Andrews, bearing a bloody slash across the face and out of breath, a wild figure in the light from the hearth inside and the torches that were flaring inside and about the yard. “We got a casualty,” Andrews breathed. “The People got to us, sir. Ben Porter’s dead, tried to stop something as it was coming away from the house. He and I were on sentry duty. Don’t know how it happened or how it got past us in the first place, but-“ “Ben’s dead?” Tom Porter shouldered his way to the door and all but collared Andrews. “My cousin’s dead?”
“I’m sorry,” said Andrews.
“What’s the situation now?” asked Burns from another quarter. “Are we clear of them now?”
“Yes, sir,” said Andrews. “There was only one of them that we saw.And him only when he jumped Ben. I’m sorry, Mr. Porter. I fired at the thing-couldn’t hit it. We were both standing guard, and when we heard something-it was just too late. I don’t think it even aimed to fight. We were just in its way.” “Randy,” Burns directed one of his older nephews, “get out there and supervise things in the yard. Andrews, come on in and let Hannah take a look at that cut.” Andrews came in and Merritt, who was holding the door, looked back toward Porter, expecting him to go out to see to his dead kinsman; but Porter showed no disposition to do so. Porter’s eyes met his in that instant. “I warned you what would happen,” Porter said; and it was justified, and no moment to argue with the man, not with a kinsman dead. Merritt ventured no reply, not even to offer ill-timed sympathy.
And Tom Porter turned and walked off toward the rear of the hall. Merritt was taken off-balance by that retreat, until he thought where else that led; and that second thought sent him after Porter, who hit the stairs at a run, gun in hand.
“Porter!” Merritt shouted at him, drawing every eye in the room and freezing everyone into atableau of shock- everyone but Porter. Merritt charged after him up the stairs, two steps at a time; and Jim Selby came to his senses and ran after him too. Then the others moved.
Porter was at the top, headed down the hall, steps thunderous on the board flooring; he reachedSazhje’s room and flung the door wide, gun lifting.Sazhje gave one piercing shriek out of the dark, and Merritt hit Porter in a waist-high rush, skidded with him several lengths farther on the floor, into the doors at the end of the hall.
The gun discharged into a wall, deafening; wood flew. One of the women screamed and so didSazhje , everything in slow motion as Merritt grappled for the gun, trying to get it from Porter’s hand. It discharged again, where, Merritt could not see.Sazhje’s staccato shrieks drowned other sounds. At last he had a purchase on Porter’s arm and one hand clear. He hit the man, repeatedly, and still he clung to the gun.
Others had come upstairs, Jim Selby was into it, trying to help restrain the big man without hurting him, and together they were able to pry the gun from his fingers.
Merritt let Porter up then, stood back at safe distance from him. Porter’s red face was congested with temper and madness; and for a moment Merritt braced himself for another attack.
“It’s your doing,” Porter shouted at him. “I warned you, Merritt, I warned you.” “She’s not guilty,” said Jim Selby, ignoring his father’s attempt to draw him out of it, to bring him back to the others that crowded the stairs. “She had nothing to do with it.”
“So long as that creature is in the house none of us are going to sleep safe. My cousin’s dead. Ben’s dead. I’m warning you-destroy it.” “That creature,” said Jim, “is a woman, not an animal, and youkeep yourself away from her, Mr. Porter. If you hurt her, so help me-“ “If you call that a woman, that’s your taste, boy, not mine. Is that it? Well, you could do what you like with your pettil now, but I’m losing no more of my kin for her sake.”
“Back down, Porter,” said Merritt. “Get out there with your other cousin that needs you. You’ll do some good there, but none here.” “No,” said Jim, his young face white with anger. “If he wants trouble with me, he’s got it.”
Porter’s eyes went from head to foot of Jim’s slimunHestian figure, and back to his face again. “You save yourselftil you’re older, boy. -Amos, do something with this bastard kid before I have to.”
With a cry of rage Jim threw himself at Porter, and landed one good blow:
Porter’s answering one rocked him back half over the balcony railing, wringing an outcry from others. Porter started forward again, but Merritt jerked him about and held his arm.
Porter did not resist him, although he was ready for it. There, was a dark anger in the big man’s eyes, but there was calculation too; in height, at least, and youth to age, they were evenly matched.
“Go downstairs,” Merritt said quietly, as if it were a request. Porter went, men moving out of his way and following him down the stairs. Meg was among them; she delayed for a cold look at Merritt, a hurt and ashamed look, and went after Porter. Only Burns and Amos and Jim were left with him on the balcony.
“However you settle it now,” said Burns, “there’s someone hurt.”
“Are you telling me to get rid of her?” Merritt asked. “No, because I know you’ll do what you want to do. But when we have a man dead out in the yard, I think you’d better consider again. You’d better think whether what you’re doing is worth what it just cost us.” And Burns left them, head bowed, walked down the stairs. Amos took Jim by the arm and gave him a push down the hall toward their room; and when Jim delayed, gave him a second shove. Jim cast back an angry look, but he went to the room, slammed the door.
“Sam,” said Amos, “I got something to say and I know just one way to say it. Is what Porter saystrue ? You think my boy’s overly fond of that female? Is that true?”
“No,” Merritt said.
“Well, I don’t like it. I don’t want my Jim having any part of this, and I’m holding you to answer for it, Sam. I mean that. You keep him away from her.”
“Jim’s grown; he knows his own mind. Don’t ask me to do what you can’t. It’s
impossibleto tell him-“
“Listen,” Amos hissed at him. “Listen and I’ll tell you something. Jimain’t my
son, and I think you must have guessed that, if someoneain’t told you. And
maybeit’s his real father’s blood that makes him wild like that, that’s got his
headin the clouds and his imagination always messing with things he oughtn’t to
touch-but he’s my wife’s boy, rest her soul, that she got of some outsider
beforeI married her, and I love him anyway-maybe better than I should. But I
gotsense enough to know him; and I know it’s the wild streak in him that could
takeafter that thing in there. It’s what would appeal to him. So you do what
youwant to do about her, friend... I can look away from that: you’re an outsider
andI’m too late to tell you what’s right and wrong. But I’m not having you infect my boy with your outsider ways and your outsider morals. Jim’s got to live on this world after you’ve up and gone your way again; and don’t you be putting things in his head he don’t know how to live with. Don’t you teach him that thing’s human, or teach himyour right and wrong if you got any where you come from.”
Merritt only stared at him, dismayed to hear that from Amos; and even Amos looked uncomfortable.
“You’re a good man,” Amos said. “But there’s right and wrong on this world, and I expect my boy to know it and to live by it. And if you got sense, you will too.”
“Meaning?”
“Don’t look guilty, even if youain’t . There’s an ugly thing they’re saying about you; and I don’t want it to touch my boy too.” “What are people saying, Amos?”
Amos looked down, jerked his head aside. “That it’s odd, your being seen less and less with Meg Burns since the time you brought this creature in-I know itain’t true, Sam, butHestia’s got a proverb about outsider morals, and that’s how it is. It’s hurting Meg and it’s hurting you and my boy; and the sooner you get rid of that creature the better.”
Merritt said nothing for a moment, did not trust himself to say anything until he had stopped shaking. Amos stood his ground, his expression pained but unyielding.
