by Andre Norton
*I don’t like it, T’k’ee. If we say it is not right to kill aikizai, how then can it be right to slay another being who is intelligent?*
*V’a’een says we must, to protect all of us here.*
Laris seized on the name and the glimmer of a face that arrived with it. That must be Strong-Send. It was interesting, too, that T’s’ai was still arguing with his friends about her. If T’k’ee accepted without question what this V’a’een said, T’s’ai’s objections must be really fervent for him to continue protesting and sharing unpopular opinions with his friends. She began to weave a possible plan in her mind.
*T’s’ai, you are foolish. What we need is more important than the life of one alien.*
*Perhaps, but I have a right to be heard.*
*When has V’a’een forbidden you to speak? No, we have heard all you would say. Let it lie now. It is your turn to guard the alien. Watch well, and do not sleep.* There came a sending she tagged as amusement. *V’a’een has said he will not send someone else to watch her once day comes. I think you do penance for arguing with him, T’s’ai.*
That was already bothering Laris. It was almost night; once it was dark, there would be no sense in trying to run. Her shoulder still hurt, but she didn’t believe she was losing much blood. Should she sleep now, recover more of her strength, and hope to make a run for it once dawn allowed her to see where it was she ran to? Before she could decide she slipped into sleep.
Sometime later, Laris woke wondering where she was. Her eyes opened to stare at the darkness, her mind reaching for Prauo and recoiling at the lack of her aikiza. What . . . ? Then she remembered. But her jerk on the creaking bed as she awoke and felt the stabbing pain of her shoulder wound brought T’s’ai in with a small lamp. He stared down at her doubtfully. His aikiza entered behind him and stood by T’s’ai, purple gaze lowered.
Laris looked up. She’d lived for years as a bond-servant before the Patrol and her friends freed her. She’d learned that one who had power should be placated, given the impression he was the one who made the decisions and gave orders. It also paid to appear younger than one was. Less was expected or feared from a child. She shivered openly and ran her tongue around her lips.
*My shoulder hurts. Water?* she sent weakly, carefully adding undertones of pain, fear, confusion, and distress.
T’s’ai’s mind-send brightened. He produced a water jug, poured water into a mug, and helped her drink. Laris exaggerated her weakness and flinched away when he touched her, making her eyes large, and allowing fear to trickle from her mind. To that she added the sharp ache from her wound. With him so close she was able to read his emotions without the aikiza, and now she read his own distress at her pain and fear. A strong, darkened sending of guilt was added as he received her own emotions via his aikiza.
Laris was also able to receive some of what the aikiza was feeling: distress at both her injury and her fear, and his master’s guilt. A cloud of worry which touched all his mind, tinged with a sort of vague whimpering that there was nothing he could do to help his master. If she was picking up all that, Laris thought, so must T’s’ai be feeling it, and that wouldn’t helping him feel better about what he was doing. Between the two of them, aikiza and liomsa, they were feeding each other’s upsets, back and forth making them worse with each send and return.
T’s’ai bent to tuck in her covering, asking as he did so, *Food? Would you eat?*
She cowered back, allowing a gestalt to slip free to the aikiza, seemingly by accident. Touch/taste of hunger, fear to eat. Picture of her writhing, dying as he poisoned her. Horror at her imprisonment. And—very carefully—a crafted wail of childish need. Her daddy, she wanted her daddy, needed her father’s protection.
These people went by mental sendings and emotions. If she felt younger to them than she was, might not T’s’ai be made to feel more guilty? Enough, perhaps, to help her in some small way? She moved back from him, putting up a weak hand as if in defense, and felt her elbow brush against something pinned to her breast pocket.
It felt as if her effort to send nothing of what she had realized ruptured her inside. She knew as soon as she touched the item what it had to be. Her communicator. There’d been a fad on Arzor this past two years, for the small personal communicators to carry a picture and be worn as a brooch or pendant. Logan had taken an image of Prauo and holographed it to the face of her communicator as a liftoff present just before they upped ship. Even the detestable V’a’een must have assumed the communicator to be only a brooch and chosen not to take that from her.
She couldn’t reach the ship on voice if she was as far away as she believed. The communicator was only a very basic model. But there were other ways, and anyhow she was certain everyone would be searching for her—if not now, then as soon as it was light outside. Better to take no chances of her captors realizing what it was she had. She would wait until there was some indication the ship might be in this area.
She smothered a hopeful grin. She had an advantage her warders wouldn’t expect. They might be able to pick up her voice communication if she spoke, but she’d gamble everything she owned that they didn’t know click code. Tani had taught her; it had been named after some Terran, Borse, Morse? Something like that. Storm had told her once that knowledge was power. Laris hugged her secrets, widened her eyes piteously, and looked up at T’s’ai. Let her see if she could add to what chances she now had.
*Why?* Picture of him knocking her down, beating her. Pain in her head and shoulder, fear, betrayal, she’d liked him—and his aikiza was gorgeous. How could someone adult do this to a child?
A surge of guilt came back, laced with pleasure from the aikiza that she should think him so beautiful. T’s’ai sat abruptly on the three-legged backless seat by the head of her bed and dropped his face into his hands. Laris felt satisfaction. That had shaken him.
She knew the rotation of this world. Twenty-six hours a day, slightly more than five hundred days a year. She had already calculated and was ready when T’s’ai raised his head to look at her.
*How old are you?*
*N-n-nearly nine of your years.* In Terran terms that was thirteen and some months, but on Prauo’s World a child was not adult until ten. Laris had just told T’s’ai that he had stunned, injured, and kidnapped a child, not only that, but his commander V’a’een, planned the cold-blooded murder of a child and T’s’ai and all his group would be co-conspirators and as guilty as their leader if they stood by and allowed that to happen.
She wasn’t sure how this world’s laws ran, but T’s’ai was already feeling guilty, and she hoped she had just given him justification to do something about it. An excuse which, shared with his comrades if T’s’ai were caught, could possibly exempt him in their minds as well. Laris made her sending childish again and wailed at him.
“We only wanted Prauo to find his family, Tani wants to help you so all aikizai who want to, can fully bond. Why did you hurt me?*
The question ended with a loud snuffle and underlying emotions of bewilderment, misery at being separated from her aikiza, her headache and sore shoulder, and more fear. She was alone, apart from those she knew. What was going to be done to her? She tossed in hints of slavery that had T’s’ai rocketing to his feet in anguish and horror. He clasped his hands together, caught back his emotions and sat slowly, reaching out to take her hands in his. She could touch/taste not only his own horror at her fears but also those of his aikiza.
*I swear no one shall whip you. I swear, oath to the Sun and Stars, to the sea deeps and the hearts of all aikizai.*
She sent an image of V’a’een. *That one, he wants to hurt me, doesn’t he?*
T’s’ai’s gaze met hers, suddenly steadfast and determined. *He shall not. Listen while I explain. You have an aikiza you love, so you will understand why we did these things.*
Laris nodded. *I want to understand. Tell me.*
Her captor sighed and began. *You know how we grow together, we two races?* He waited for her
nod. *Yes, your aikiza grew with you, grew in size and intelligence. But sometimes an aikiza does not grow completely. They grow to almost full size physically, but mentally they lack the complete bond that will allow them independence.* His hand stole down to touch the shoulder of his own aikiza.
*We do not love them the less, but they are trapped within what they are and cannot escape. E’l’ith’s parents began a new system. Once it was certain an aikiza could not make the final steps, they were killed. I was five when I bonded with my first aikiza. For two years we were brothers, kin, best friends, all and everything to each other. Then it was decided he was one of the imperfect ones, and they held me elsewhere while they killed him, bidding me choose anew.*
Laris had been working out T’s’ai’s age as he continued. She sat hard on her emotions, but she could believe in T’s’ai’s agonized grief. He would have been seven and a half in Terran terms when he’d taken an aikiza, around ten when his aikiza was murdered. Distance would not have helped much. She knew if Prauo were killed she’d feel it anywhere on the same world and pay in pain and sorrow.
*To be without a aikiza is to be only half what one can be. I waited until I was ten when I took another to bond. I hoped, I prayed all would be well. Often even if the bond is incomplete once, a second bonding is well. Mine was not. Three years we had before my aikiza was slain by his own dam.*
Laris felt sick. T’s’ai would have been fifteen the next time, and her age when he lost his second friend. Yet he still had an aikiza, which meant he must have risked everything a third time. He was with the group opposed to E’l’ith, so this aikiza, too, must be only half-bonded. She wondered if the dam who had murdered T’s’ai’s second friend had been Prauo’s mother. Purrraal had admitted to killing two of her imperfect cubs. Could it be that T’s’ai’s second aikiza and Prauo had been brothers?
*I tried for years not to risk all again. I was so afraid to take another aikiza and see him die as the other two had died. At last I could no longer be alone.* His face twisted with rage and grief. *The changes in us make it so hard to walk apart. I was tempted and I fell. I took a new cub and seven years ago when it was seen he, too, would be imperfect, I ran. I could not give another aikiza to death and myself to endless loneliness.*
Laris felt his pain, the memories of sweetness, of aikiza and liomsa together as they ranged the forest lands, and then, over and over, the agony of feeling love and bonding die. The terror and final pain of his aikiza as he died, slicing into his friend, a betrayal of all they’d had. A destruction of love and trust that he was supposed to accept—and could not bear a third time.
Cautiously, watching that his face stayed hidden in his hands, she transferred the communicator to her hand. She palmed it and began clicking the tiny on-off button. It looked as if there was a chance he’d let her go if she played her cards right, so now was the time to see if the ship could pick up her signals.
T’s’ai lifted his face from his hands where he had lowered it again in the pain of memories, and looked her in the eyes. *I know what E’l’ith says. That we weaken aikizai strains. That for each aikiza who cannot bond completely but who can breed, we allow further weakness into the bloodlines. You will notice she does not demand that our people die, only the aikizai. How happily do you think she would agree if the aikizai demanded that it was our race who should die for our inabilities?*
His sending was salt-bitter. *She calls our aikizai slaves to us, but they are loved and alive. We did not demand anything of her and hers, only that our aikizai should not be murdered.*
*How do you think my aikiza will survive if I am killed?—And we would rather our friend lived, too,* Laris retorted, suddenly remembering that this liomsa had endangered Logan.
T’s’ai’s sending was dull. *V’a’een’s order. Afterward, when I asked why, he spoke of convincing your people of the dangers of our world. He believed if you grieved for a death, you would understand our own grief more clearly. I did not agree, nor did my aikiza, but V’a’een is our leader.*
Laris realized her last exchanges had been at a more adult level of sending. She hastily returned her sendings to more childish tones. *A leader who wants to kill me. Storm says a man who does bad things to children is a man who does wrong in anything.*
T’s’ai stood, his aikiza rearing a little to touch his nose to T’s’ai’s raised hand. *Your adult one speaks the truth as I have come to see it during these hours. I remember my own grief. How right is it that I impose the same grief on others? What I did at V’a’een’s orders was wrong, first when I was silent about the sea-beast, once again when I obeyed and stole you from your people. The first evil I cannot change; it is done. The second wrong I can right.*
He crossed the room to stare out of the doorway. *If you go east along the shore you will be moving towards your people, unless—can you sail a boat?*
*I don’t think so.* Her sending was apologetic, although inwardly she was cursing whoever had decided to take the motor with them she could have used that. *How long will it be before another of your friends checks to see I am still here?*
*Perhaps all of this day. If they do not know you are gone before dark and I have time to lay a false trail, then you may have traveled a long distance before they discover which way you have truly gone.* He turned to a basket by the door. *I brought you water and food and bandages. Sit and I will care for your shoulder. Then take the basket and go quickly.*
She was stiff from lying down, her head ached a little still from the drug, her shoulder hurt each time she moved, and, worse yet, her trousers were soaked—and not from seawater. She’d been drugged to sleep for almost forty hours, then confined in this hut, and nature had taken its course. Not that Laris cared. Just to be away from V’a’een, who wanted to kill her, would be enough.
She turned to offer her shoulder to his hands. T’s’ai was gentle, but she allowed herself to whimper childishly in pain a couple of times. She felt the increase in his guilt and was pleased. She had to keep him convinced he had hurt a child who should be freed in common decency.
*There, that will hold well. I am sorry for your pain, child. I did not hit you hard but you fell onto a sharp piece of a branch that was sticking out of the sand.*
Laris reached back to touch the bandage. Ah, that was where her internal locator beacon had been implanted, just under the skin. It was likely the small locator no longer worked. Logan had said they could be broken if they received a direct blow. It was just unfortunate she’d fallen directly onto the little beacon.
*Here, I will help you stand,* T’s’ai offered, reaching out. Laris took his hand and stood, swaying. She stretched slowly, carefully, and moved forwards and back a few steps. Yes, she could travel. Not fast, perhaps, but she’d keep going. Considering what would be behind her she’d keep going on all fours if she had to. With her other hand hidden from his sight, she continued to click out her signal.
T’s’ai led her out of the hut, the basket in one of his hands. *I’ll try to get word to your friends that you are coming. If not, you’ll be in the outer area of E’l’ith’s territory within ten or twelve days of steady walking.*
She’d be safe a lot sooner than that, Laris reflected, which was just as well. As soon as she was out of sight she’d activate her communicator again and the ship would pick her up within hours, if the device still worked. T’s’ai led her through the last of the trees and pointed along the coast. *That way. Go safely, child. I’ll try to keep pursuers off your track until you are long gone.*
She heard him, but some other sound made her turn, her eyes widening in horror. V’a’een stood there inside the tree fringe, an atori in his hands, rage clear on his face while at his side an aikiza bristled.
His sending was wordless but nonetheless incisive. Laris received a montage of emotions and pictures. Let T’s’ai stand aside while this alien died. If T’s’ai did not, he could watch his aikiza die first. It hung in the balance while Laris stood mute. Then T’s’ai spoke quietly:
*Do we now murder children?*
Laris had the sense that V’a’een had taken a surprised step back in his mind.
*What?*
*She is nearly nine.* Laris could feel quotes in the sending as he repeated her claim to him. *You had her stolen to use against those who might know a solution, you would have her killed once they find one, so they do not know who it was that took her. Tell me, V’a’een, how do you think the aliens will react to the theft and murder of an intelligent child? And if we are murderers of children, how does that make us better than E’l’ith, who kills cubs?*
*I did not know.* The sending was tinged with guilt, and Laris hoped. Then the sending changed again to a determined hardness. *It does not matter, we have her now. If we return her, will they not reject our need once she tells them how it was and who took her from them?*
He raised the atori to fire. T’s’ai and his aikiza stepped in front of Laris and—
Suddenly she felt Prauo in her mind, reaching out to her. Mentally she shrieked her whereabouts to him. And before Va’een could shoot, The Trehannan Lady burst into view over the treetops, some two hundred feet from the ground, and descending rapidly.
Chapter Eighteen
Laris gazed up at the descending ship, dropped the basket, and ran back towards T’s’ai. V’a’een was already running for cover, his aikiza racing at his side. T’s’ai was sprawled limply by the small hut in which she had been imprisoned, his oddly pinkish blood staining his face, head, and upper tunic as it continued to trickle forth.
The ship slanted in to land where it had stood some days earlier. The landing was fast and rough, but Laris did not notice. By the time the ship’s ramp slammed down she was kneeling by T’s’ai. His aikiza stood anxiously at his other’s side, making tiny sounds of distress. Laris knelt, sending to the big feline slowly and clearly.