Early Byrd

by Phil Geusz

shoot at the sound. Which our weapons are excellently suited for, I'll add."

  I nodded back. It made sense. Then I sighed and untied my right sneaker. The sooner I dealt with my blister, the sooner it'd stop hurting.

  19

  Rapput, it turned out, made an excellent substitute for an electric blanket. He regained his senses for a few minutes while we were nestling up close to him and arranging the comforters and such, long enough to grasp what was going on and what he needed to do to help. So it was that Tim slept curled up in the small of the alien's back, while I spent the night hugged to Rapput's chest. It was a lot like sharing a bed with a huge dog, except that Rapput was warmer and softer than any dog could ever be. He even smelled nice once you got used to him—sort of like cinnamon. And unlike any dog, he kept his hand cupped over the top of my head all night long, which I suppose would've made me feel even more safe and special if I were a real Artemu. Even Li snugged up close, which was of course right and proper under the circumstances, though sometimes he disappeared. Presumably, this was to scout.

  Despite Rapput's pleasant presence, no one slept much. The ground was terribly cold, for one thing, and not nearly as soft as it might've been. Tim and I'd been through a lot the day before, so much that even we'd have admitted it was bothering us. And even worse, Li had gotten me thinking about a lot of things all at once, so many that every time I thought I had one idea all chased down and worked out it blurred and merged with six others and I had to begin all over again.

  Tim and I had killed two men, and we hadn't played fair doing it. Every time I looked back and thought things through logically, I was convinced we'd done the right thing. Even if Rapput hadn't been involved and the aliens wouldn't have killed everyone by throwing rocks, we'd been kidnapped by force and kidnappers didn't deserve a lot of sympathy.

  Yet . . .

  I frowned as Rapput's hand gently pressed down on me in what I knew was meant as a reassuring and even loving gesture. Rapput had kidnapped us too, just as thoroughly as the Rocky Mountain Free State. Yet somehow, despite his social gaffes and lack of understanding of what made us humans tick, I couldn't bring myself to hate him. By his own lights he'd treated us all, especially Dad, with a degree of respect that in a conqueror bordered on the remarkable. He'd also sworn to protect us, and I hadn't the slightest doubt that he'd have fought like ten-thousand wildcats had the elevator's fall not so seriously injured him.

  But then, Sam and Yukon had sworn to protect us too, and . . . and . . .

  I rolled my eyes in the darkness and sighed. Right and wrong sure was awfully hard to work out sometimes! Dad had said teaching us ethics was his most important job and that he was sorry he wouldn't be around to finish it. That was where we truly belonged, back on the ranch with Mom and Dad! But even if a by a miracle we somehow were allowed to go back, someone else would have to go with Rapput in our places. And knowing that would be pretty terrible, too. So things couldn't be like they were before. Not ever! No matter what!

  I slept in fits and starts all that night, my dreams slithering like fat-bellied snakes through the spells of wakefulness so that sometimes I wasn't sure which was which. Linda had turned into Mother lying dead in her kitchen, and Sam was Dad and Yukon was Rapput and I couldn't keep track of who meant what to me anymore. All I wanted to do was cry, cry, cry. Tim's night wasn't much better, from the snatches of weeping I caught on the other side of the alien.

  I can't speak for anyone else, but I actually felt worse when dawn finally broke than I had before lying down. My muscles were stiff and achy, my nose was all stuffed up, and my t-shirt soaked with cold, muddy ooze. "Please, sir," I asked Rapput, whose good hand was still firmly clamped on my head. "Will you let me up?"

  "Eergh!" he complained at first, making a sound like a grizzly clearing its throat. Then his hand moved. "Of course, beloved nephew." He smiled. "Was your night as awful as mine?"

  "Worse, probably," I answered, sitting up and looking across to where Tim had been. He was already up and gone. "Thank you for keeping us warm."

  "Heh!" he answered. "That was the only good part, actually." His smile faded. "You're aware our females aren't . . . Cannot . . ."

  I nodded. "Yes, sir."

  "Then you should also know that as soon as the nursing time ends, we take our male young from their mothers. This is unpleasant for all involved, I fear, but necessary. If a child is left too long, valuable months of learning speech and similar advanced social skills are lost. Your kind is more flexible than our own in this regard—if we fail to master language within a certain developmental period, it becomes much more difficult and sometimes even impossible later." His face fell. "Some of our most ancient horror stories center on male children whom the females successfully hide away, so that they grow up as little more than especially cunning animals. Like their mothers." He shivered.

  "That's pretty terrible," I said.

  "Yes," he agreed, reaching out and straightening my hair with a single claw. "Among we Artemu, the ordinary household is made up of a group of brothers, or sometimes cousins if they're few enough. We share the burden of raising our sons equally with each other. So . . . as your uncle, I in many ways will be as close to you as your father, whom you've yet to meet. It's normal for us to sleep with our young as we did last night, though you and your brother are a little old for it except under special circumstances. For me, it was very much a . . . bonding experience."

  I started to frown, but then caught myself. "I don't even know yet how to properly address you, sir."

  "I've been waiting for you to ask. I'm simply Rapput to you, where all others outside the family should use my honorifics. I’d equally accept Uncle Rapput, or even just Uncle."

  I nodded and stretched my kinked muscles. "Then . . . Uncle, may I speak the truth to you, even though I don't think it'll make you happy?"

  He blinked. "Robertherman, even before what you and your brother achieved yesterday I would've encouraged you to always be honest with me, for honesty is the root of all honor. Now, however, at a remarkably young age you've earned the right to be regarded as a warrior-youth. An adult in many ways." He paused. "You don't wish to be adopted, do you? Nor your brother."

  I gulped. "No one ever asked us. But we still have to go."

  He nodded and leaned back in his travois, wincing for an instant as the broken bones shifted. "In our society, opinions are only rarely asked for. When orders are issued, they are followed. Or at least this is true at the lower levels, as with children." His eyes narrowed. "You two are the best choices available. The researchers selected you and your brother as having far more potential for success than any of the others anywhere. Subsequent events have proven them correct. And your mission is far more important than either of your lives, or even my own."

  "What exactly do you want from us?" I demanded, my fists forming balls and my eyes leaking tears again. "What's so damned important, anyway, that you have to ruin everything for us?"

  "I grieve for your very real loss," Rapput replied. "But your kind and my own must learn to work effectively together, and in order to achieve this a bridge must be built." He closed his eyes and sighed. "The universe is a far darker and more dangerous place than your kind yet knows. Or can for now be allowed to know. You wouldn't believe us if we told you."

  "Most humans won't ever trust us again," I replied. "Not after you've held us off-planet for a while. They'll all be like Yukon and Sam."

  He opened his eyes again. "You may be correct. But has it occurred to you that the attitudes of many of we Artemesians may be in equal need of readjustment? And that you're already taking serious steps toward this most noble of goals?" He reached out for the nearest pillowcase. It was just beyond his grasp, so I helped him. "Thank you, Robertherman. Li and your brother went out to refill the water bottles and to scout. In the meantime, I suppose I can be of at least some use by getting breakfast ready." His smile widened in a way that I was beginning to associate with sarcasm. "Cold poutine! I don't know
about you, but I can hardly wait!"

  The poutine was indeed pretty awful stuff, but the cold flapjacks with maple syrup dribbled over them were better. Fortunately for the rest of us, maple syrup was on the short list of human foods the Artemu couldn't stomach. So we only had to share the limited supply three ways. Li ate like a wolf, and I couldn't blame him after the way he'd worked so hard yesterday dragging Rapput.

  "Colonel Li," the alien began as we finished off the last of everything—from this point forward we'd simply starve unless we stumbled across some berry-bushes or something else equally unlikely happened. "I . . . am deeply moved by the efforts you made upon my behalf yesterday."

  The Korean smiled and nodded acknowledgement, but said nothing.

  "I've not exactly been myself lately, " Rapput continued. "And perhaps haven't been thinking as clearly as I might hope. But now I've no further excuses." His eyes rose to meet those of our instructor. "I'll admit it's been many months since I've read any reports on the subject, but humans of your physical stature aren't supposed to be capable of such strength and endurance as you've been displaying."

  Li straightened his back and smiled his usual gentle smile. "I'm a world-class athlete, sir. Over-age, perhaps. But still in excellent training."

  Rapput nodded. "Far out on the edge of the statistical curve, then—I can see that." Then he frowned. "It's still not, I don't believe, reasonable to expect you to repeat the effort all day today."

  Li looked down. "I can, and I shall. Eventually we'll climb a small mountain. It's essential to my escape plan." He explained about his past mission, and how he was certain that the authorities would still be looking for his symbol.

  Rapput nodded "You fear the impact of my death on we Artemu and from there on all humanity, and in all honesty well you should." He sighed and flipped his robe aside, exposing his ornate belt-buckle—its design featured two crossed, overly-curved swords. "This is a recorder, Li. It's on all the time. If anything should happen, take it with you. The truth shall at least clear you and the boys of any suspicion of complicity, though I doubt it'll help with the larger issues."

  Li bowed silently from the neck, face impassive.

  Then Rapput leaned back, expression contorting in agony for a moment as he did so. "I'm badly hurt," he admitted. "Worse than even I at first understood. Yet I've been spared what you would call infection so far, and the food has been good for me." He turned to Li again. "Colonel, I intend to walk up that mountain on my own two legs. You can't possibly carry me." Li tried to object, but employing his good hand in a very human gesture, the alien waved him to silence. "If I can’t make it on my own, I'll take other steps to ensure that I'm no longer a burden to you. The recorder will prove it wasn't your fault, and I say now for the record that all three of you have behaved not just properly but nobly and in accord with the highest traditions of Gonther household honor." He bowed slightly. "This is how it shall be."

  Li shook his head. "I can carry you," he repeated. "And I shall."

  Rapput smiled. "You know no discipline, by Artemu standards. Unlike most of my kind, however, I've come to cherish independent thought in my subordinates." Then he held out his hand, palm-down.

  Li understood instantly what was expected and edged over so Rapput could lay his hand atop his head.

  "You're brave and tough, Colonel, even if you weren’t entirely honorable in attempting to join my household after having shared less than the full truth about your background." He withdrew his palm and let Li go free. "I'll rest until we get to the bottom of the slope and let this last meal give me what energy it can. But after that I’ll either rise from this stretcher and walk to the top or die trying. And that, Colonel, is that. You couldn't stop me if you tried."

  20

  "That wasn't any good!" Tim hissed in my ear as we picked up what gear was worth keeping and stashed it in the pillowcases. "If he dies, I still think we'll all die."

  "Rapput is right," I countered. "Li's awfully strong. But there are limits to everyone."

  "I don't know," my brother answered, setting down his pillowcase and picking up his comforter. We'd spread it out in the weak sunlight while we ate, but it was still so damp that in places you could wring water from it. "They're going to catch up with us today. I don't see how they'd not."

  "We'll deal with that when the time comes," I reassured him, quoting one of Mom's favorite sayings. "You can only solve one problem at a time. So far we've managed. "

  Li insisted we ford the river right away, first thing. "I scouted several miles downriver and saw and heard nothing," he explained. "So for the moment, we can be fairly certain the boat won't appear. We won't have that certainty later. Besides, it's shallow enough here even for the boys."

  It was shallow, all right. Tim and I had to go in up to our bellies, was all, and our upper parts would've stayed dry if my brother hadn't stepped on an uneven rock and knocked us both over right in the middle of the deepest pool. We both crawled out blue-lipped and shivering on the far side, and for a moment I thought Li was going to risk lighting a fire to warm us up. Then he frowned and had us strip buck-naked and huddle under one of the comforters while our clothes dried in the still-weak morning sun. We put them back on bit by bit as they were ready, but the incident still ate up at least two hours and left us with squishy, nasty sneakers sure to cause more blisters.

  Tim and I looked at each other, but said nothing. After all, there probably wasn't a clothes dryer for hundreds of miles around.

  We had to stop again for almost an hour when the boat finally showed up. "Quiet!" Li hissed as the motor's droning echoed up and down the valley. Fortunately we were already deep in a patch of thick brush, trying to force a way through. "Find a comfortable spot, fast! Then lay down and don't move or make a sound until I say so!"

  It was easy for Tim and I to comply—this was basic hunting craft. But Li had to first locate a good place for the travois then find another he could keep watch from. He barely made it before the boat emerged from around a sharp bend, perhaps a couple of hundred yards away. There were six men and a woman aboard, all armed with either heavy hunting or military-style rifles, and all of them wore what looked like bits and pieces of uniforms. Each faced a different direction except for the driver, who was free to twist and turn as he liked. A shiver went up and down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

  I'd never been the deer before.

  I scowled and shifted position, my hands seeking the shotgun for reassurance. Tim and I would give them a fight, by god! To say nothing of Rapput and Mr. Li!

  Then it happened, as it inevitably had to. One of the men shouted and pointed at where Rapput's stretcher had been dragged into the stream. There hadn't been any way to hide the tracks, though we'd all hoped it'd take them longer to find them. The boat slowed and began to ease toward the far bank.

  I looked up at Li, who by chance happened to take that same moment to check on me. He smiled and held his hand palm-out, meaning I was to wait. So I did, for what seemed like forever as the boat found a snag to tie up on and all but the driver climbed ashore and fanned out into the brush-patch we'd camped in. Eventually one of them found where we'd slept and called out in triumph. One of the others smiled and dog-trotted in his direction . . .

  . . . until a tree snapped upright, the man screamed, and there was silence again.

  I looked at Li, but his grim face told me nothing.

  Then another of the searchers shook off the shock of the moment and took off running toward the man who'd vanished. As he did so, another tree jerked violently, but this time the booby-trap missed its mark. "Snare!" the man cried out. "Or whatever the hell you call it!"

  "Shit!" the woman shouted. "Don't move, anyone, until—"

  But I never heard the rest of it. Because Li stood, settled the poles of Rapput's travois on his bleeding shoulders, and then motioned urgently for my brother and me to move out.

  "Wow!" Tim said later as we made more miles up a caribou trail that
led toward the base of the mountain Li had chosen for us to climb. He allowed us to chatter, so long as we did so in whispers. The wind was steady from behind us now, and Rapput had assured us that he'd scent our pursuers long before they'd overhear boy-whispers. "He was out setting traps all night long!"

  I nodded back. "I can see now why Dad's so impressed with him."

  Tim frowned, then reluctantly nodded. Admitting there was anyone better than our father at almost anything was heresy of a sort, yet Dad had chosen Li to go with us for a reason, no? "Robert, my feet hurt something awful."

  I reached out and wrapped my arm around his shoulder for a moment. The fact was that mine were a mess too—we were both bleeding with every step. Not only was our footwear totally inadequate, but the dampness had rendered them even less effective. Only Li's soles seemed up to the endless march; someday I'd have to ask him how he managed that.

  By now we'd skirted the two higher, more vertical summits that were in our way, and I felt all climbed-out just from that. Yet there in front of us stood a peak that, while hardly a standout among the local group, was easily half again as high as anything we'd ever attempted back home on the ranch. I looked Tim in the eye again, and for the first time ever saw my own fears reflected back. He didn't think we were going to make it either.

  "The Gonther clan," Rapput eventually said into the silence, "was originally born and bred among the highest mountains of our homeworld. They were only marginally habitable. We were poor beyond measure—there was little game and even less arable land, which was subject to an irregular climate that varied enormously from year to year. To this day our build is leaner and more sinewy than that of other Artemu. This is the result of ten thousand generations of starvation. The only crop we could raise was the beta'l bean, which permanently stains one's teeth a ridiculous shade of violet when eaten regularly, and causes an enormous amount of flatulence. Today we consume it only at ceremonial events." He sighed. "We were also surrounded by tribes as fierce and aggressive as our own. It's a miracle we survived, much less triumphed over the rest of the planet."

  "What happened?" Li asked. "That Gonther ended up on top, I mean."

  "Metals," he replied with a smile. "And coal. We were good at keeping the secrets of manufacturing high-quality weapons. Steam too, eventually. Our part of the mountains were full of ores and coal near the surface. Once we had the monopoly—"

  "And how did you learn about metallurgy and steam?" Li continued.

  There was a long silence. "The wind veers," Rapput finally said, "and grows less certain. Perhaps we should