Acorna’s Search

by Anne McCaffrey

  While he spoke, Gladiis said, (Khornya, my dear, Areel is the largest, swiftest, and strongest of us all. Climb upon his back, and he will carry you far from this place. Your friends are safe, and you must run far and hide well until we are able to persuade the Highmagister or her political opponents to see reason.)

  (But you—?) Acorna began.

  (We are in no danger. These are not evil creatures, merely misguided and overconfident of their role in the destinies of others. And obstinate! I’ll bet you thought you got that from our side of the family!)

  Acorna threw her arms around Gladiis’s neck in an impulsive hug, but Gladiis nudged her to Areel. She threw her leg across the Ancestor’s back, bent low to grasp his neck, and simply held on as he soared from the room over the heads of Ancestors and Hosts alike. One leap to the center, one to the door, one from the door to the cavern entrance and down he went, his muscles surging beneath her, and she swayed as she learned to harmonize her movements with his as he bore her away down the dark corridors.

  Dimly she was aware of pursuit. Areel’s pounding hooves echoed down the stone passageways, and as they thundered through each section, its walls lit behind them, as if their flight heralded light for the underworld.

  Never had Hafiz given such a large house party under such restricted circumstances!

  All animal life on the Moon of Opportunity now lived under the bubble of his palace, sharing the public baths, the food, the drinking water, the air and energy resources he had insisted on retaining. Hundreds of pumps, hundreds of thousands of kilometers of plascene conduits and pipes, thousands of valves and connectors had stripped MOO of its life-supporting facilities, laid waste to its gardens, its newly planted forests and meadows, its housing for staff and guests alike. He certainly hoped the inconvenience was temporary.

  Almost all of the Linyaari who were not missing were now on Vhiliinyar. Within the confines of Becker’s few hundred feet of hose, they busily transplanted the irrigation systems that had once watered Hafiz’s lavish gardens. Instead of islands of lush blossoms and serene pools and splashing fountains, the systems now spread across the disfigured face of the Linyaari homeworld.

  The conditions he endured to accede to the Linyaari demands, and Becker’s, made Hafiz feel that he had been reduced to his days of impoverishment, that he had come down in the world. He had no desire to attempt his holograms. After all, without the pumps, hydraulic energy was not available and his other energy sources must be conserved for the necessary life-support systems to keep the MOO functioning, despite the temporary lack of gardens and plantings. The only bright spot was that Karina apparently found a certain spice of adventure in their newly bland existence. The atmosphere of tension, the crowded conditions, the need to steal moments of privacy from the people constantly seeking the assistance of the Harakamians, brought out the outlaw in his darling, and stimulated her inner strumpet in a way that relieved his own tension at totally unexpected times and in altogether inappropriate, but interesting, places. So he was not altogether displeased by the situation. But he felt it was only good negotiating strategy to appear terribly put out. That way no one would be under the illusion that all of this effort and inconvenience on his part would be without a substantial price.

  Therefore the acting head of the Linyaari Council on MOO approached Hafiz nervously.

  “Uncle Hafiz,” the council head began, since from their first meeting, Hafiz had insisted that since Acorna was his niece, her relatives by extension were his relatives. “Your pardon for this intrusion,” she continued. Karina Harakamian rose from Hafiz’s massive desk, on which pillows had been incongruously spread, pulled her lavender silk up over her plump shoulder, dimpled at the Linyaari council head, and fled with a giggle. Her departure left a panting and slightly disheveled Hafiz to climb down off his desk and sit in the chair behind it, trying to wipe the smirk from his face and settle his features into impassiveness.

  “What is it?”

  “We have a most important delegation arriving from narhii-Vhiliinyar. Their vessel requires refueling followed by immediate departure for Vhiliinyar.”

  “Has this delegation no need to rest and refresh themselves for a night or two? Not,” he added, “that we are not rather crowded at the moment and our hospitality thus much poorer than our usual standards. But we would endeavor to make them comfortable.”

  “Speed is of the essence, Uncle Hafiz. And this—delegation—requires absolute privacy, so we further request that only Linyaari people participate in the docking, refueling, and departure procedures.”

  Hafiz sighed. Once more, he felt he was being insulted with mistrust, but he was nevertheless inclined to be magnanimous at this moment. He waved his hand dismissively. “So let it be done. It is all as one to me.”

  As the council head turned to go he added, “If you see Madame Harakamian on your way out, would you tell her I have not yet finished instructing her as to my wishes, and require her presence again?”

  “Certainly, Uncle Hafiz,” the council head agreed with a grave bow of the head, all the while wondering why, when Uncle Hafiz was so stern, Auntie Karina laughed and smiled so often.

  Maati, Maarni, and Yiitir swam unguided and alone back out the darkened tunnel to the sea.

  Maati was pretty sure the time thing had worked, because once they hit the water, the Ancestors vanished, and she knew they couldn’t have actually gone anywhere so quickly. But Khornya was not with them, as she had promised to be.

  The older people were slightly confused, though Maarni pretended she knew exactly where she was going. The water seemed higher to Maati than it had been before, and there was stuff floating in it—not really dirty stuff, because their horns of course would purify the water around. But bits of metal and wood, glass, and plas that she felt, but couldn’t see very well.

  She hoped with every stroke that the sii-Linyaari would return to the tunnel with Aari. It was spooky in here without them.

  Once they got up to where the Ancestors lived, the walls lit up, but here they were left with only the sound of the water ricocheting around the high cavern ceiling. It reminded Maati of the sound inside her ears now that they were wet, all scritchy, pinging, and poppish.

  But finally, after what seemed a very long time, she saw some brightness in the distance. She bumped into Maarni as the woman stopped in place, listening. There was a sound like the beating of a monster’s heart coming from beyond the tunnel.

  “What is it?” Maati hissed, whispering.

  Yiitir swam around his wife and on toward the light. “Girls, girls, it’s a pump. A large pump. My goodness, all our little escapades have made the two of you quite skittish. Some sort of work is taking place in the harbor.”

  “Well, don’t reveal yourself in the open until you know what it is,” Maarni cautioned. “It could be the Khleevi for all we know. Or the Hosts. There’s no guarantee Khornya landed us at the proper moment.”

  Maati gathered herself and swam even further than Yiitir. (Sure there is. Khornya wouldn’t have sent us unless she was sure.) She broadcast her thoughts, (Aari? Khornya? Thariinye? Anybody out there?)

  For a moment it seemed as if the whole planet held its breath and she repeated, more feebly, (Anybody? It’s me, Maati, and Yiitir and Maarni are with me.)

  (Maati!) The answering cry came from not just one, but many Linyaari consciousnesses, including one very special one in particular.

  (Where have you been, brat? I’ve been—I mean, the council has been worried crazy!)

  (Thariinye, I’ve been hiding just to make you mad,) she teased. (And so have Maarni and Yiitir. No, we’ve been time-traveling and we met the sii-Linyaari and ancient Ancestors and everything—did Aari come? Are the sii-Linyaari here? And Khornya? Is she here?)

  (No, but one thing at a time, irritating Youngling. Where are you?)

  She swam out to sea through the opening, which was now much shallower below and much larger above. Bouncing up and down in the water, she waved her a
rms. (Here! We’re here! Come bring a boat and get us. I am soooo tired of being wet!)

  Twenty-five

  With three more pairs of hands to help, Becker was able to expand the safety ring of irrigation far enough to accommodate landing area for two ships and three more shuttles. There had been no furthur Linyaari disappearances, and they had begun to retrieve their missing, so it was starting to look like their theory—he grinned to himself here—held water. When Hafiz’s equipment began arriving, soon after Maati and the others had been fished out of the sea, the network rapidly expanded.

  At the suggestion of and with the help of the Linyaari engineers, the hole that had allowed the debris from the surface to collapse into the sea was expanded so that lines could be run up the column connecting the planet’s surface to the water of the ancient sea. This allowed a second network of irrigation troughs to feed directly from there.

  Maati, Yiitir, and Maarni helped Becker locate the place where they had disappeared with Aari. This was the first place Acorna had wanted to make safe and, although three of the missing had returned, it was still the area closest to the lake site. Becker thought this was where Aari would probably return, and maybe Acorna, too.

  “It’s amazing how much closer this is when we use your shuttle,” Yiitir remarked. “It took us a great deal of time and effort to walk from here to the city, didn’t it, ladies?”

  Maati and Maarni agreed. Maati was pleased that the lines now made the site of the former waterfall safe. And the shuttle lost when Becker first arrived had reappeared over an irrigation ditch dug across the site where it had vanished. Amazingly, all hands were still on deck. It had been a triumphant moment for all of them.

  Maati could scarcely believe they had been back only a day and a half—too much activity had been packed into the time for it to seem possible. They worked round the clock—digging, pumping, and laying hose, lines, and valves. Fortunately, there were machines that did most of the digging, with Mac pitching in where more finesse and intelligence were required than brute force.

  Suddenly Maati heard Yiitir, who had been busy consulting with the engineers, exclaim to Maarni, “The Ancestors are coming! They’re on their way from MOO right now! According to our dispatcher, they insisted they were needed right here.”

  “I can scarcely see the Ancestors in all this mess!” said Miryii, one of the engineers. “It will break their poor, old hearts to see their former planet reduced to this.”

  “They’re a tougher lot than you might suppose,” Yiitir assured him.

  When the ship carrying them landed, the Ancestors and their Attendants asked immediately to be taken to the Vriiniia Watiir and to the falls. At that point they demanded, quite shrilly, that a deep pond be dug immediately at a site they selected. Then it had to be filled immediately as well, never mind that the filling left the underground lake so low that some of the pumps could no longer pump to their irrigation lines. When the Linyaari attempted to explain this to them, the Attendants turned them away, said that the grandparents were weary from their trip, that the filling of the pond was well done and necessary, and that they could all go away and do their work elsewhere.

  Since there was a great deal to do and enough equipment still functioning to start running a line toward where the crew of the wii-Balakiire disappeared, everyone but Maarni, Yiitir, Maati, and RK did as the Attendants suggested. Maati asked the Attendants if they could stay the night with the Ancestors.

  The Attendant in rumpled lime and fuchsia looked like she was about to deny her request when the Ancestor with a blanket that color said, “Yes. Yes, we would like the company of these great-grandchildren. They have recently been among our Ancestors and we would like to hear of them.”

  And so they all talked, and slept and—it seemed to Maati—waited.

  Areel was the fastest and most powerful thing Acorna had ever traveled on, short of a space shuttle. And he felt even faster than one of those. He galloped so fast that the wind tore at her face and her hair, and once they were outside, clods of earth flew up and pelted her legs and sides. She still rode low over his neck, but once they were out of the tunnel, she hung onto his mane instead of riding with her arms around his neck.

  She could run very swiftly herself, but how wonderful it must be to run like this. The Ancestors of her time deemed themselves too ancient or too important for this kind of race, but Areel gloried in it.

  His endurance was greater than that of any living thing she had ever known. They ran far beyond the outskirts of the city, with pursuit still hot behind them. Looking back, she saw the Hosts following, flying, running, some on two legs and some on four. She wasn’t sure, but others seemed to be running on six legs or more. In and among them ran the Ancestors, trying to discourage them. She heard snatches of the thought-talk between them that flew into her mind, only to be whisked away as Areel’s feet ate up another furlong.

  Finally, only two Hosts pursued them. The rest simply abandoned the chase. Acorna was exhausted just from riding, and she knew Areel must be even more tired than she was, though his pace never faltered. “Great-Grandfather, we have to stop. You must rest or you’ll surely die. And I have got to relieve myself.”

  “Aaaaaah,” Areel said, taking care of his own need as she dismounted. She found herself so stiff and sore that she fell, and she had a much harder time than she would have imagined rising to her feet again. Areel, finished with his own task, inclined his head. “Take my mane, child. There. I have never had a rider before, but you made yourself no burden. Now, quickly. I will graze as you do what you must. You grab some grass as well.”

  She did as he said and pulled up handsfull of grasses rather than waiting to graze. She wished they had stopped near running water. Her mouth and throat were terribly dry from the rush of air filling them as Areel ran. But he was saying, “They come. Hurry. To me.”

  And behind them she heard the thought-broadcast, (Halt! Stop! We need you! Come back immediately!)

  Nothing there to make her change her mind, although eventually, if they could reach a place where there was some tactical advantage, she would have to try to negotiate.

  But not now. Behind her she saw a huge black bird and a vast, fast, gray beast with a white patch covering its back and front legs. She climbed back aboard Areel and they were off again.

  The landscape grew familiar and she wondered where she had seen it. In her dreams perhaps? She had had such sweet dreams as a child of a homeworld she never knew. And by the time she found out that the homeworld must be Vhiliinyar, that world had been destroyed. So perhaps this was a site from her dreams.

  Or was it something more recent?

  That was it! Hafiz’s holo-projection of Vhiliinyar when it was done. This was a place she had seen there, except that when she saw it on the vid, it was from a different perspective.

  Now Areel splashed into a great broad river, swimming toward the other side, when a huge blue-eyed leviathan swam up behind them. From its fin, a white garment fluttered.

  “The co-parent of the sii-Linyaari,” Areel informed her. “And the first to disown our watery children when they were not as well-formed as had been hoped by the Hosts. For myself, I thought they were quite attractive in their own unique way.”

  The leviathan was much faster than Areel in the water, and the huge black bird caught up with them quickly, too.

  Meanwhile they were being swept downstream.

  “Great-Grandfather, I know this place. There is a waterfall not far from here, a very steep one, and you will not be able to avoid it. I’m going to jump off now. You swim to shore and save yourself.”

  “You will be killed!”

  “Perhaps not. I have seen this place. I think I can swim to a spot I know and avoid the rocks,” she said, but it was a vain reassurance to save Areel from dying with her. She had seen the holo of the waterfall, true, but she had no idea where the rocks were. The holo had prettily covered these up with decorative sprays of spume.

  “Even if y
ou escape death or injury, the Hosts will recapture you,” Areel said.

  “Then you and the other Ancestors will just have to rescue me again,” she said. “I have faith in your ability to do so. Thank you, and farewell.” And she slid off his reassuring bulk into the water.

  She made an arrow of her slender body and swam with the current, shooting toward the falls more quickly than even the powerful leviathan chasing her could swim.

  The water became rougher, stiff white ruffles around rocks with only small patches of silver-green water maintaining the flow to the falls. She was so busy dodging rocks she forgot her pursuit, forgot to see if Areel made it to the far shore or not, and even forgot about the fall itself.

  Until the instant when she hung over the edge, looking down and down and down over a sheet of spraying white water into a white trimmed green pool below, and then she was diving, for she would not let herself fall uncontrolled to her death, not if she could help it, plunging straight for the pool. She heard a high shrill sound in her ears and it occurred to her halfway down that she was hearing her own scream.

  Twenty-six

  Acorna dived deep, deep, deep into the pool and then, laying her hands to her sides, shot to the surface like a rocket. Flicking the hair from her eyes and the water from both, she peered through the blurs the drops made and saw an Ancestral form on the bank. “Areel! You made it! And so quickly.”

  “Who are you calling, Areel, Youngling? And these days I don’t do anything quickly,” the Ancestor replied. And then she was seeing double, triple, and in even more multiples as all sorts of Ancestors herded together beside the pool.

  “Khornya!” cried four Linyaari voices, and Acorna swirled in the water to see Maati, Thariinye, Maarni, and Yiitir watching her from the shore and waving. Maati dived in and came out to meet her, pulling her to shore by the hand. “I don’t get it!” the girl exclaimed. “How did the Ancestors know? They had us dig this pool, then we all just sat and waited for you to pop out of it!”