Eternity row, p.14
Eternity Row, page 14
Off-loading the League and Hsktskt soldiers went remarkably fast and without complication. Reever and his lizard friend arranged for the slaver vessel to dock with the Sunlace first, and I ran a quick exam on each of the reptilian soldiers after they reported to the launch bay.
RrissVar stood in silence as I lectured him on how to take care of his leg wound, and gave him a pack of medical supplies for himself and his men. “Change the dressings twice a day for the next week, and don’t skip your dose of antibiotics, unless you want to try to regrow that limb.”
“Thank you for providing aid, physician.” He nodded to Reever, then followed his men toward the remarkably bland-looking shuttle.
Xonea had come down to watch over the transfer, and now came to stand beside me. “I do not recognize the design of the transport. Who are these traders?”
I twisted the ring on my finger absently. “Friends of Duncan’s.”
The Captain gave my husband a thoughtful look. Reever and RrissVar clasped arms, and spoke in low tones just before the big reptile boarded the shuttle. “Indeed.”
The second trader docked about an hour after the Hsktskt left. The League soldiers were not as quiet, or polite, as we sent them off with the Niat-Nuom’dain, nor was Xonea pleased to see me hand over a pouch containing the verdant pearl RrissVar had lent us.
“They should finance their own passage,” my ClanBrother muttered.
I put my arm through his and guided him away from the second trader shuttle. “Let’s just get them off the ship, huh?”
All the fireworks done with, the crew settled back into their normal routines. I noticed Salo making a distinct effort to avoid me, but left that situation alone. If our friendship was ever going to heal, it needed time without a lot of poking and prodding at it.
We were two rotations from reaching Taerca when the Captain called an unscheduled staff meeting. I covered Medical so Squilyp could attend, and got back to work on our hypercellular experiment, prepping the cloned Jorenian liver for testing.
The staff meeting was short, and the Senior Healer called me into his office as soon as he returned. He handed me a data pad with a copy of a direct relay from Joren.
“The Captain received this earlier today. Read it.”
I skimmed through the text, then set the pad down on the edge of his desk. “Joren intends to mediate peace for the League and the Hsktskt? Talk about a complete three-sixty.”
“It gets better.” Squilyp sat down and rubbed a membrane over his eyes. “We’ve been ordered to rendezvous with the CloudWalk, HouseClan Jado’s ship. The Jado ClanLeader wants to be briefed on all the events that led up to the Varallan conflict with the Hsktskt and the League before they initiate peace talks.”
“In other words, my life story.” I sat down and propped my chin on my fist. Had my ClanBrother somehow arranged this to keep me on the ship? No, even I wasn’t important enough for an entire species to reverse their political stance during an intergalactic conflict. “What does Xonea think about all this?”
“The Captain believes in aggressive defense, as you well know. Cherijo, I don’t believe the Jado or anyone on the Council fully understands the danger to Joren. In matters of interstellar war, these people are remarkably overconfident. I would say, even naive.”
“Comes from having a rep as the worst species to fool with.” I sighed. “Other than the standoff in Varallan, they haven’t been involved in any large-scale conflicts.”
And now they were blindly walking into the biggest one since the Hsktskt had obliterated the Nokkian Alliance. Could Reever and I really walk away from my adopted family right now?
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to discharge my daughter and take her to her father.” I picked up the pad and tucked it in my tunic pocket. “Reever was at the meeting, right?” Squilyp nodded. “Good. That should give us something new to argue about.”
I didn’t argue with Duncan in front of our kid—much as I was tempted—but left her in his care.
“Are you going back on duty?” he asked when I kissed Marel good-bye and promised to take her to visit Fasala tomorrow.
“No, I think I’d better go see Xonea. I need to finish those program inspections, and maybe while we’re sparring, I can talk to him about the Jado.” His reaction was subtle, but of the disapproving, glacial variety. Not a good time to tell him Xonea was mixed up with Qonja, I guessed. “They’re going to try to negotiate peace between the Hsktskt and the League, Duncan. I think they should know exactly whom they’re dealing with, and why they’re at war.”
“You are not responsible for Joseph Grey Veil’s actions on Fendigal XI.”
I noticed Marel was watching us both intently. “Sweetie, do me a favor and go check on the cats for me.” We’d moved Juliet and her litter into Marel’s room, and as soon as she went in, I confronted the very thing we’d been avoiding discussing. “You don’t care why I’m getting involved. You just don’t want me involved at all.”
“You already have too many emotional ties to these people.” He made it sound like an illness. “If you become entangled in these peace negotiations with Xonea and the Jado, it will only make it more difficult for us to leave when the time comes.”
“Xonea and the Jado didn’t put the recording drones in our quarters. Qonja did.” Before he could say anything, I shook my head. “I don’t know why yet, but go ahead and remove them.”
“The Captain doubtless ordered him to do it.”
The way his eyes glittered sent chills through me. “What is the problem between you and Xonea? It can’t be jealousy; whatever he felt for me in the past is over, and you know it.”
“He intrudes on our lives too often.”
“This from the man who has ticked me off more times than a yellow star has solar flares in one revolution.” I went to stand in front of him. “I thought we agreed to communicate better. So communicate.”
“I want you to stay out of these negotiations.” He got up fast, and showed a great deal more animation as he pulled me into his arms. “Don’t become involved in Xonea’s politics.”
“You are jealous.” I pulled back a little, but his arms were locked around me. “Duncan, he’s like a brother to me.”
“He means to change what you are.”
“Look, if it comes down to a choice between Xonea and the Torins, and you and Marel, I will personally pilot the shuttle we take off this ship. You have nothing to be worried about.”
“Then you will lose nothing by doing as I ask.”
I dodged the angry kiss he meant to give me, and jerked free. “How about my self-respect? That may take a few dents.”
“Do what you will then.” He strode out of our quarters.
Since I couldn’t face off with Xonea and expect my marriage to hold together, I decided to use the opportunity to combine one problem with another, and sent a signal to Qonja, inviting him to join me for a practice session.
My one-man fan club politely refused. “It would be inappropriate for me to spar with you, Healer.”
I didn’t argue with him, but only waited until he went off duty before I tracked him down. I took the precaution of arming myself before overriding his security code and opening the door panel to environome two.
Inside, the psych resident stood stripped to the waist, working out with Yarek Torin. Both of them were heavily armed, multibladed swords in both hands, and dancing around each other like soundless ghosts as they defended themselves against multiple attackers.
Multiple League and Hsktskt attackers.
I cleared my throat when there was a slight pause, and both men stopped in their tracks. Yarek groaned as he saw me, then sheathed both of his swords. Qonja swore under his breath and went to the panel to shut down the program.
“Healer.” Yarek tried to look nonchalant. “We were not expecting you to attend . . . my student’s demonstration.”
“Nice try, ClanCousin. You might want to head home and explain to your bondmate why she’s going to get a signal from me later.” I smiled and shook my head when he made as if to protest. With a quick bow, he hurried out of the environome.
Qonja, his back toward me, secured the door panel again.
I shrugged off my outer tunic. “Tell me who you are.”
“As I have said before, I am a psychiatric resident.” He turned and frowned as he watched me take out my goreu staff out and extend it. “What are you doing?”
“I may not know much about Joren, but I know plenty about those swords you and Yarek were swinging around. Multibladeds take years to master.” I whirled the black staff between my fingers, showing off a little. “Many, many years.”
“It is an exercise I am quite fond of.”
“That’s the thing, Qonja. Medical students don’t have time to become fond of anything but medicine. You seem to have missed a few things at Medtech, but here you are, an expert with a sword. Now, it seems to me if someone wanted to impersonate a medical student, he’d have to pick the kind who has no practical medical experience. Like a psychiatric student.” I tucked my staff under my arm and started toward him. “I’ll ask you one more time: Who are you?”
He put one sword aside, but held on to the other. “I cannot answer your questions.”
“You will before we leave this room.” I kept advancing.
Qonja touched the symbol hanging from his vocollar. “You cannot mean this, Healer. Perhaps we can discuss—”
I flipped out my staff, planted one end, and used it to vault to his left. As I landed, I swept the planted end up and knocked the sword out of his hand. It clattered to the deck, several feet away.
He didn’t come after me, but I moved out of range anyway and entered the first of the attack patterns Wonlee had taught me. “Who are you and why were you sent here to watch me?”
Qonja ducked to avoid my staff, then grunted as I whirled the other end around and knocked the air out of his diaphragm. When he could breathe again, he wheezed, “Healer, stop.”
“Stop now?” I laughed. “I’m just warming up.”
He crouched over into a defense stance I’d seen Xonea use. “This serves no purpose.”
“It’s certainly making me feel better.” I tapped him on the cheek before he could jerk back, then blocked him from getting his arm up before tapping the other. “Come on, you’re better than this.”
His white eyes narrowed. “It is inappropriate for me to spar with you.”
“You keep saying that—why? Because you think you’re better? Faster? Oops.” I slammed my staff into his right knee, forcing him down on the other, then hefted my staff up over his head. “Maybe not quite so fast as you think you are. By the way, the wood used to make this goreu is so hard that the Esalmalin prefer it over some alloys.” I rested the end against the top of his head. “One good hit, and I can split your skull in half. Tell me who you are.”
“You will not kill me.”
“I won’t beat the information out of you.” I moved the end of the staff so I could tip his chin up. “However, I will protect the ones I love, and if that means killing you, I won’t even hesitate. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Then this session is over.”
I folded up my staff and walked out.
A few days after my sparring match with Qonja, the Sunlace assumed orbit above Taerca. Hawk’s destination was the fifth planet out from the system’s white dwarf star, and the only habitable one at that. As a result, traders rarely bothered to jaunt through the region, possibly the reason for the noticeable lag time in getting a response from the planet surface.
Or so Darea theorized over tea with me and Alunthri in the galley. We had taken to meeting there since her bondmate had accused me of betraying the HouseClan.
“Salo was not particularly impressed by the quality of the relay we received from Taercal Main Transport,” she said. “Their request for us to delay the sojourn for three rotations seemed rather unfriendly.” She offered me a slice of morningbread, which I refused. “My bondmate may exaggerate, as he has been very irritable of late. . . .” Her hand moved in a discreet gesture meaning she wasn’t sure why.
I knew better. “Since I ruined our friendship?”
The Chakacat’s whiskers twitched. “Perhaps Salo needs some time to think through the situation.”
“What say you Terrans? ‘Don’t hold your breath’?” Darea shook her head. “He remains steadfast in his opinions, that much I will grant my bondmate.”
I decided to change the subject. “How is Hawk taking the news?”
“They sent no images of the surface, which disappointed him, but he found the physical appearance of our contact something of a comfort.”
The native Taercal must have had some of the features that Terran doctors had worked so hard to erase from Hawk’s face. “I hope these people are a little more open-minded than his mom’s side of the family.”
“Having two parents seems at times a disadvantage,” Alunthri put in. “Darea, has there been any word from the ship we are to meet at Oenrall?”
“The Jado have signaled several times, confirming their heading. Their ClanLeader knows Xonea and Salo from their service together during the territorial conflicts.” Darea watched Ilona Red Faun enter the galley, and inclined her head as the Terran girl gave her a wary glance. “If anyone can bring peace to the League and the Hsktskt, it is Teulon Jado.”
After our tea, I went to see Hawk and find out how he was coping with the prospect of meeting his father’s people.
The crossbreed welcomed me into his quarters, which had been cleared of most of the furnishings. A number of Ilona’s brightly patterned wool rugs hung on the wall panels, along with bundles of ceremonial corn and several huge, carved masks. Four intricately woven Jorenian yborra mats formed a square on the deck around an elaborate sand painting.
“Very authentic,” I said, foregoing a suggestion that he get some regular chairs. “The sojourn is tomorrow; any last-minute jitters?”
“Some. Have you seen the signal?”
He took me over to his terminal and pulled up the replay for me. A dark image appeared on the screen, a barely discernible humanoid face shrouded in darkness from all sides.
Hawk’s paternal species weren’t very handsome in a Terran sense, but the aquiline features and intense, all-black eyes were certainly startling. Evidently evolved from an avian life-form, the Taercal showed their genetic heritage with their dark-feathered derma, curved beak-mouths and, of course, their wings. The native on the screen had some sort of gilded ornaments stuck all over his, what I could see of them. The official’s grossly overweight body swelled to fill the screen.
“He’s a pretty big bird, isn’t he?” I leaned closer to hear the translator kick in.
“Star vessel Sunlace. This is Tadam Ortsac.” The Taercal sounded a bit nasal, but that could have come from the synthetic translator voice. His face emerged into the light a bit farther, and I saw small, irregularly spaced skin growths at the base of some of his feathers. “Our governing priest will allow a party of no more than ten to visit the surface of our world, in three rotations, for a period of twelve stanhours. No trade will take place during this interval, nor will any immigrants be accepted. Acknowledge your comprehension.”
You didn’t get much snottier than that. “Tadam certainly knows how to roll out the welcome mat, doesn’t he? Warts and all.”
“Salo assures me such reticence toward unexpected visitors is not uncommon among isolated worlds,” Hawk said quickly.
“Once they find out you’re one of their own, they’ll probably be much more congenial.” I couldn’t knock on wood three times—everything around us was alloy or plas. “Did your grandparents ever tell you what your father’s name is? It would make it easier tracking him down.”
“They used his name often, when praying to the gods to cure my afflictions and curse Father to eternity in the void.” Hawk’s expression became slightly bitter. “He is called Fen Yillut.”
“Have we been granted access to the planetary database? Maybe you could give him a call, warn him his prodigal son is about to show up?”
“The Captain already requested permission, which was denied.”
A paranoid species couldn’t be expected to hand the keys to their planetary mainframe to an unknown ship in orbit, but still, there were other ways. The Taercal attitude was starting to match the Terran’s for outright hostility.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Now, why don’t you let me take a look at those wings one more time? You’ll likely be in the air most of the time while we’re down there.”
Hawk agreed to an impromptu exam, which revealed him in excellent shape. Hours of flying in the largest launch bay had strengthened the twin feathered appendages sprouting from his spine to the point of prime condition. As I scanned his musculature, I noticed the face in the center of the sand painting.
“That looks like Rico,” I said, nodding toward the visage.
“It is.” His mouth turned down as he studied it. “I should have a sing to guide his spirit to the next life, but I have not been able to bring myself to do it.”
As hataali to my brother’s underground crossbreed tribe on Terra, Hawk had regularly performed healing ceremonials. The “sings” were elaborate rituals involving special songs, foods, and sand paintings, and sometimes lasted for days. I had a feeling bad memories were making him procrastinate—the last time Hawk had been with my brother, Jericho had nearly beaten him to death with his fists.
On the other hand, maybe the memories were more painful than simply bad. Hawk had loved my brother so much he would have let Rico beat him to death, to prove it. Kao’s smiling face popped into my mind, oddly enough, until I realized why. I had loved Xonea’s brother, and yet had killed him trying to save him. In a way, Hawk had done the same. “You still miss him, don’t you?”
“With each breath I take.”
“I know how it feels, but I still don’t understand why. Jericho may not have started out as a monster, but he sure got there fast. Why did you stay with him?”
RrissVar stood in silence as I lectured him on how to take care of his leg wound, and gave him a pack of medical supplies for himself and his men. “Change the dressings twice a day for the next week, and don’t skip your dose of antibiotics, unless you want to try to regrow that limb.”
“Thank you for providing aid, physician.” He nodded to Reever, then followed his men toward the remarkably bland-looking shuttle.
Xonea had come down to watch over the transfer, and now came to stand beside me. “I do not recognize the design of the transport. Who are these traders?”
I twisted the ring on my finger absently. “Friends of Duncan’s.”
The Captain gave my husband a thoughtful look. Reever and RrissVar clasped arms, and spoke in low tones just before the big reptile boarded the shuttle. “Indeed.”
The second trader docked about an hour after the Hsktskt left. The League soldiers were not as quiet, or polite, as we sent them off with the Niat-Nuom’dain, nor was Xonea pleased to see me hand over a pouch containing the verdant pearl RrissVar had lent us.
“They should finance their own passage,” my ClanBrother muttered.
I put my arm through his and guided him away from the second trader shuttle. “Let’s just get them off the ship, huh?”
All the fireworks done with, the crew settled back into their normal routines. I noticed Salo making a distinct effort to avoid me, but left that situation alone. If our friendship was ever going to heal, it needed time without a lot of poking and prodding at it.
We were two rotations from reaching Taerca when the Captain called an unscheduled staff meeting. I covered Medical so Squilyp could attend, and got back to work on our hypercellular experiment, prepping the cloned Jorenian liver for testing.
The staff meeting was short, and the Senior Healer called me into his office as soon as he returned. He handed me a data pad with a copy of a direct relay from Joren.
“The Captain received this earlier today. Read it.”
I skimmed through the text, then set the pad down on the edge of his desk. “Joren intends to mediate peace for the League and the Hsktskt? Talk about a complete three-sixty.”
“It gets better.” Squilyp sat down and rubbed a membrane over his eyes. “We’ve been ordered to rendezvous with the CloudWalk, HouseClan Jado’s ship. The Jado ClanLeader wants to be briefed on all the events that led up to the Varallan conflict with the Hsktskt and the League before they initiate peace talks.”
“In other words, my life story.” I sat down and propped my chin on my fist. Had my ClanBrother somehow arranged this to keep me on the ship? No, even I wasn’t important enough for an entire species to reverse their political stance during an intergalactic conflict. “What does Xonea think about all this?”
“The Captain believes in aggressive defense, as you well know. Cherijo, I don’t believe the Jado or anyone on the Council fully understands the danger to Joren. In matters of interstellar war, these people are remarkably overconfident. I would say, even naive.”
“Comes from having a rep as the worst species to fool with.” I sighed. “Other than the standoff in Varallan, they haven’t been involved in any large-scale conflicts.”
And now they were blindly walking into the biggest one since the Hsktskt had obliterated the Nokkian Alliance. Could Reever and I really walk away from my adopted family right now?
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to discharge my daughter and take her to her father.” I picked up the pad and tucked it in my tunic pocket. “Reever was at the meeting, right?” Squilyp nodded. “Good. That should give us something new to argue about.”
I didn’t argue with Duncan in front of our kid—much as I was tempted—but left her in his care.
“Are you going back on duty?” he asked when I kissed Marel good-bye and promised to take her to visit Fasala tomorrow.
“No, I think I’d better go see Xonea. I need to finish those program inspections, and maybe while we’re sparring, I can talk to him about the Jado.” His reaction was subtle, but of the disapproving, glacial variety. Not a good time to tell him Xonea was mixed up with Qonja, I guessed. “They’re going to try to negotiate peace between the Hsktskt and the League, Duncan. I think they should know exactly whom they’re dealing with, and why they’re at war.”
“You are not responsible for Joseph Grey Veil’s actions on Fendigal XI.”
I noticed Marel was watching us both intently. “Sweetie, do me a favor and go check on the cats for me.” We’d moved Juliet and her litter into Marel’s room, and as soon as she went in, I confronted the very thing we’d been avoiding discussing. “You don’t care why I’m getting involved. You just don’t want me involved at all.”
“You already have too many emotional ties to these people.” He made it sound like an illness. “If you become entangled in these peace negotiations with Xonea and the Jado, it will only make it more difficult for us to leave when the time comes.”
“Xonea and the Jado didn’t put the recording drones in our quarters. Qonja did.” Before he could say anything, I shook my head. “I don’t know why yet, but go ahead and remove them.”
“The Captain doubtless ordered him to do it.”
The way his eyes glittered sent chills through me. “What is the problem between you and Xonea? It can’t be jealousy; whatever he felt for me in the past is over, and you know it.”
“He intrudes on our lives too often.”
“This from the man who has ticked me off more times than a yellow star has solar flares in one revolution.” I went to stand in front of him. “I thought we agreed to communicate better. So communicate.”
“I want you to stay out of these negotiations.” He got up fast, and showed a great deal more animation as he pulled me into his arms. “Don’t become involved in Xonea’s politics.”
“You are jealous.” I pulled back a little, but his arms were locked around me. “Duncan, he’s like a brother to me.”
“He means to change what you are.”
“Look, if it comes down to a choice between Xonea and the Torins, and you and Marel, I will personally pilot the shuttle we take off this ship. You have nothing to be worried about.”
“Then you will lose nothing by doing as I ask.”
I dodged the angry kiss he meant to give me, and jerked free. “How about my self-respect? That may take a few dents.”
“Do what you will then.” He strode out of our quarters.
Since I couldn’t face off with Xonea and expect my marriage to hold together, I decided to use the opportunity to combine one problem with another, and sent a signal to Qonja, inviting him to join me for a practice session.
My one-man fan club politely refused. “It would be inappropriate for me to spar with you, Healer.”
I didn’t argue with him, but only waited until he went off duty before I tracked him down. I took the precaution of arming myself before overriding his security code and opening the door panel to environome two.
Inside, the psych resident stood stripped to the waist, working out with Yarek Torin. Both of them were heavily armed, multibladed swords in both hands, and dancing around each other like soundless ghosts as they defended themselves against multiple attackers.
Multiple League and Hsktskt attackers.
I cleared my throat when there was a slight pause, and both men stopped in their tracks. Yarek groaned as he saw me, then sheathed both of his swords. Qonja swore under his breath and went to the panel to shut down the program.
“Healer.” Yarek tried to look nonchalant. “We were not expecting you to attend . . . my student’s demonstration.”
“Nice try, ClanCousin. You might want to head home and explain to your bondmate why she’s going to get a signal from me later.” I smiled and shook my head when he made as if to protest. With a quick bow, he hurried out of the environome.
Qonja, his back toward me, secured the door panel again.
I shrugged off my outer tunic. “Tell me who you are.”
“As I have said before, I am a psychiatric resident.” He turned and frowned as he watched me take out my goreu staff out and extend it. “What are you doing?”
“I may not know much about Joren, but I know plenty about those swords you and Yarek were swinging around. Multibladeds take years to master.” I whirled the black staff between my fingers, showing off a little. “Many, many years.”
“It is an exercise I am quite fond of.”
“That’s the thing, Qonja. Medical students don’t have time to become fond of anything but medicine. You seem to have missed a few things at Medtech, but here you are, an expert with a sword. Now, it seems to me if someone wanted to impersonate a medical student, he’d have to pick the kind who has no practical medical experience. Like a psychiatric student.” I tucked my staff under my arm and started toward him. “I’ll ask you one more time: Who are you?”
He put one sword aside, but held on to the other. “I cannot answer your questions.”
“You will before we leave this room.” I kept advancing.
Qonja touched the symbol hanging from his vocollar. “You cannot mean this, Healer. Perhaps we can discuss—”
I flipped out my staff, planted one end, and used it to vault to his left. As I landed, I swept the planted end up and knocked the sword out of his hand. It clattered to the deck, several feet away.
He didn’t come after me, but I moved out of range anyway and entered the first of the attack patterns Wonlee had taught me. “Who are you and why were you sent here to watch me?”
Qonja ducked to avoid my staff, then grunted as I whirled the other end around and knocked the air out of his diaphragm. When he could breathe again, he wheezed, “Healer, stop.”
“Stop now?” I laughed. “I’m just warming up.”
He crouched over into a defense stance I’d seen Xonea use. “This serves no purpose.”
“It’s certainly making me feel better.” I tapped him on the cheek before he could jerk back, then blocked him from getting his arm up before tapping the other. “Come on, you’re better than this.”
His white eyes narrowed. “It is inappropriate for me to spar with you.”
“You keep saying that—why? Because you think you’re better? Faster? Oops.” I slammed my staff into his right knee, forcing him down on the other, then hefted my staff up over his head. “Maybe not quite so fast as you think you are. By the way, the wood used to make this goreu is so hard that the Esalmalin prefer it over some alloys.” I rested the end against the top of his head. “One good hit, and I can split your skull in half. Tell me who you are.”
“You will not kill me.”
“I won’t beat the information out of you.” I moved the end of the staff so I could tip his chin up. “However, I will protect the ones I love, and if that means killing you, I won’t even hesitate. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Then this session is over.”
I folded up my staff and walked out.
A few days after my sparring match with Qonja, the Sunlace assumed orbit above Taerca. Hawk’s destination was the fifth planet out from the system’s white dwarf star, and the only habitable one at that. As a result, traders rarely bothered to jaunt through the region, possibly the reason for the noticeable lag time in getting a response from the planet surface.
Or so Darea theorized over tea with me and Alunthri in the galley. We had taken to meeting there since her bondmate had accused me of betraying the HouseClan.
“Salo was not particularly impressed by the quality of the relay we received from Taercal Main Transport,” she said. “Their request for us to delay the sojourn for three rotations seemed rather unfriendly.” She offered me a slice of morningbread, which I refused. “My bondmate may exaggerate, as he has been very irritable of late. . . .” Her hand moved in a discreet gesture meaning she wasn’t sure why.
I knew better. “Since I ruined our friendship?”
The Chakacat’s whiskers twitched. “Perhaps Salo needs some time to think through the situation.”
“What say you Terrans? ‘Don’t hold your breath’?” Darea shook her head. “He remains steadfast in his opinions, that much I will grant my bondmate.”
I decided to change the subject. “How is Hawk taking the news?”
“They sent no images of the surface, which disappointed him, but he found the physical appearance of our contact something of a comfort.”
The native Taercal must have had some of the features that Terran doctors had worked so hard to erase from Hawk’s face. “I hope these people are a little more open-minded than his mom’s side of the family.”
“Having two parents seems at times a disadvantage,” Alunthri put in. “Darea, has there been any word from the ship we are to meet at Oenrall?”
“The Jado have signaled several times, confirming their heading. Their ClanLeader knows Xonea and Salo from their service together during the territorial conflicts.” Darea watched Ilona Red Faun enter the galley, and inclined her head as the Terran girl gave her a wary glance. “If anyone can bring peace to the League and the Hsktskt, it is Teulon Jado.”
After our tea, I went to see Hawk and find out how he was coping with the prospect of meeting his father’s people.
The crossbreed welcomed me into his quarters, which had been cleared of most of the furnishings. A number of Ilona’s brightly patterned wool rugs hung on the wall panels, along with bundles of ceremonial corn and several huge, carved masks. Four intricately woven Jorenian yborra mats formed a square on the deck around an elaborate sand painting.
“Very authentic,” I said, foregoing a suggestion that he get some regular chairs. “The sojourn is tomorrow; any last-minute jitters?”
“Some. Have you seen the signal?”
He took me over to his terminal and pulled up the replay for me. A dark image appeared on the screen, a barely discernible humanoid face shrouded in darkness from all sides.
Hawk’s paternal species weren’t very handsome in a Terran sense, but the aquiline features and intense, all-black eyes were certainly startling. Evidently evolved from an avian life-form, the Taercal showed their genetic heritage with their dark-feathered derma, curved beak-mouths and, of course, their wings. The native on the screen had some sort of gilded ornaments stuck all over his, what I could see of them. The official’s grossly overweight body swelled to fill the screen.
“He’s a pretty big bird, isn’t he?” I leaned closer to hear the translator kick in.
“Star vessel Sunlace. This is Tadam Ortsac.” The Taercal sounded a bit nasal, but that could have come from the synthetic translator voice. His face emerged into the light a bit farther, and I saw small, irregularly spaced skin growths at the base of some of his feathers. “Our governing priest will allow a party of no more than ten to visit the surface of our world, in three rotations, for a period of twelve stanhours. No trade will take place during this interval, nor will any immigrants be accepted. Acknowledge your comprehension.”
You didn’t get much snottier than that. “Tadam certainly knows how to roll out the welcome mat, doesn’t he? Warts and all.”
“Salo assures me such reticence toward unexpected visitors is not uncommon among isolated worlds,” Hawk said quickly.
“Once they find out you’re one of their own, they’ll probably be much more congenial.” I couldn’t knock on wood three times—everything around us was alloy or plas. “Did your grandparents ever tell you what your father’s name is? It would make it easier tracking him down.”
“They used his name often, when praying to the gods to cure my afflictions and curse Father to eternity in the void.” Hawk’s expression became slightly bitter. “He is called Fen Yillut.”
“Have we been granted access to the planetary database? Maybe you could give him a call, warn him his prodigal son is about to show up?”
“The Captain already requested permission, which was denied.”
A paranoid species couldn’t be expected to hand the keys to their planetary mainframe to an unknown ship in orbit, but still, there were other ways. The Taercal attitude was starting to match the Terran’s for outright hostility.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Now, why don’t you let me take a look at those wings one more time? You’ll likely be in the air most of the time while we’re down there.”
Hawk agreed to an impromptu exam, which revealed him in excellent shape. Hours of flying in the largest launch bay had strengthened the twin feathered appendages sprouting from his spine to the point of prime condition. As I scanned his musculature, I noticed the face in the center of the sand painting.
“That looks like Rico,” I said, nodding toward the visage.
“It is.” His mouth turned down as he studied it. “I should have a sing to guide his spirit to the next life, but I have not been able to bring myself to do it.”
As hataali to my brother’s underground crossbreed tribe on Terra, Hawk had regularly performed healing ceremonials. The “sings” were elaborate rituals involving special songs, foods, and sand paintings, and sometimes lasted for days. I had a feeling bad memories were making him procrastinate—the last time Hawk had been with my brother, Jericho had nearly beaten him to death with his fists.
On the other hand, maybe the memories were more painful than simply bad. Hawk had loved my brother so much he would have let Rico beat him to death, to prove it. Kao’s smiling face popped into my mind, oddly enough, until I realized why. I had loved Xonea’s brother, and yet had killed him trying to save him. In a way, Hawk had done the same. “You still miss him, don’t you?”
“With each breath I take.”
“I know how it feels, but I still don’t understand why. Jericho may not have started out as a monster, but he sure got there fast. Why did you stay with him?”
