“They were, as we are, peaceful creatures, who desired nothing more than harmony among themselves and with all the other animals. They were shy and fled at the first sign of trouble, and would stand and fight only to defend themselves or one another, or occasionally some weaker animal preyed upon by a stronger one. They lived high on the mountains and deep within the forests and their powers were valued by all so that they had no natural enemies.
“And then one day to the forests and the mountains came a new species that walked on hind legs, as we do, and carried tools and weapons with its forelegs. These creatures were not overly bright, they were not kind, and they were very, very arrogant. They cut down forests and diverted streams and rivers. They dug up plants and laid bare the ground to plant crops of their own choice. Some of these crops the other creatures, including our Ancestors, found quite tasty, but the newcomers were selfish and did not wish to share and slew any animal they could find who wished to sup upon their crops.
“The Ancestors thought that some misunderstanding was occurring. They believed all creatures to be reasonable, as they were, and except for food and mating needs, to be peaceful, as they were. But it was quite evident these new creatures—men, as they were called—were not understanding their place in the scheme of things.
“The Ancestors decided to attempt to communicate with them but they feared the males, and so they would attempt to find one of the younger females when she was alone and converse with her, show her how the air and water could be pure, show her how wounds could be healed. This was a grievous mistake, for the most part.
“The young females told the males, who felt that the horn’s power was inconveniently attached to large, swift, shy creatures who knew where and when they wished to deploy the power. The men began systematically to hunt our Ancestors until many many of them were dead or captured.
“Of the captured Ancestors, some were slain but some also escaped, after observing the ways of the men in their dwellings. They felt that some of the things the men could do were very great powers as well.
“But overall, it was a tragic situation for our Ancestors, and they used the power they had always had to communicate with other species and each other to cry for help. As they were hunted and harried, the cry became louder and more desperate until at last it was heard.
“Off-world spacecraft arrived and offered refuge to the Ancestors, taking them aboard but at the same time, causing an atmospheric disturbance that produced a great flood that covered all of that planet. The Ancestors grieved to see many of their fellow creatures destroyed, but they found it hard to grieve for men.
“The beings who had found them were the Ancestral Hosts. They, too, communicated by thought, but unlike the Ancestors, they stood on their hind legs like men. They took the Ancestors to Vhiliinyar. Over the years, the Ancestral Hosts, because of the love between the two species, began to genetically blend with them. Eventually, a race arose made of the best of both the Ancestral Hosts and the Ancestors—the Linyaari. Gradually the space-faring race blended with our own, and then left, or perhaps just died away, for they were shorter-lived than the Ancestors.
“But the Linyaari remained, and many of our Ancestors remained, and we all remembered, to remind us of the dangers the Ancestors had once faced on that other world, and to teach us that while we must sometimes share our gifts with others, we must also beware and keep our home hidden from them, lest our enemies find us once more.”
“We are the ki-lin!” Acorna said excitedly. “Or rather, the Ancestors are! My guardian, Delszaki Li, told me of the Ancestors from mankind’s viewpoint. He came from a very old people whose memory predated the great flood of which you speak. They revered the Ancestors almost as much as the Linyaari.”
Grandam yawned. The herbal tea was taking effect. “I’m glad our story pleases you, Khornya. I haven’t seen you look so animated since you arrived.”
“I think I’m finally starting to adjust,” Acorna admitted, sleepily.
But the next morning, as she was leaving for the techno-artisan compound, Acorna was intercepted by a breathless Maati, whose eyes were round, wide, and wet. “Khornya, Khornya, I came right away to tell you. We’re not getting the routine signals from the Balakiire anymore.”
“Since when?” Acorna asked.
“Earlier this morning, about three kii ago.” A kii was roughly fifty-seven minutes of Galactic Standard Time, Acorna had learned. “Everyone else is finding out now but I wanted to come to tell you myself,” Maati said. “Khornya, I’m sorry.” The young girl began to cry, which helped Acorna to control her own fears enough to put her arms around the child, hug her, and rock her.
“There, there, Maati. They’ve probably just been affected by that same problem that’s blocked communications from the other missions—the one all the ships went to try to fix. Grandam says most likely it’s some sort of equipment failure and as soon as one of the crews identifies it, it will be fixed and we’ll be hearing from everyone again.”
“Do you think?” Maati asked.
Acorna was glad that Linyaari children weren’t psychic, so that Maati couldn’t tell how frightened for Neeva and the others she really was. “No doubt. If the Balakiire has lost contact, that means they’re also closer to the source of the problem. The others won’t be far behind on their way to their own destinations, so probably one of them will have an answer for us soon.”
But the answer, as the days progressed, was that with one ship after another, contact was lost. Relatives and friends were informed of each successive failure to receive a ship’s signal. In the interests of security, signals would not be sent from the planet to a ship which could no longer be heard from. Everyone knew that the Khleevi could be listening, and find narhii-Vhiliinyar by tracing the signals. That was not a thing that could be risked. All over Kubiilikhan, all over narhii-Vhiliinyar, eyes turned heavenward as the planetbound searched skies which were silent except for the sound of thunder and the clatter of rain and hail.
It seemed as if the storms brought with them such an unescapable wash of anxiety, regret, fear, and grief that Acorna paced with restlessness.
“Grandam, I feel so useless. I need to be active, to be of service. You and Maati come home exhausted every night. Can I not relieve some of your burdens somehow? If not yours, then perhaps Maati’s? Surely if a child can do her job, I could, too.”
“Hmmm,” Grandam sighed wearily, sinking onto her pallet, which was still dry thanks to the raised floor. The inside of the pavilion was dark now and confining rather than cozy with the flaps closed against the rain. “A very good suggestion, Khornya. Our people need more than ever to stay in touch with what’s happening, with the crisis, with what the government is doing about it, and with each other. I, for one, would welcome your help.”
While heading toward Nirii, the crew of the Balakiire distracted themselves from worrying about what might await them by imagining the parties they were missing.
(I just hope we’ll make it back in time for Acorna’s bonding ceremony,) Khaari joked.
(I think you’re being a little premature,) Neeva responded. (I’m afraid if the new viizaar has her way, my niece will be put to work picking seeds from the grass and replanting them by hand or some such chore. Liriili is unbonded herself.)
(I get the feeling she prefers it that way,) Khaari said. (I think you are being too hard on her.)
(Not intentionally,) Neeva said. (But Liriili is a very complex person. I fear all of her thoughts and motivations are not known even to herself—possibly that is what makes her such a good administrator. She would convince herself that whatever she was doing or not doing was for Khornya’s good or the good of the planet.)
(If you mean sending us to Nirii, at least we’ve learned we have lots of company. Other ships were dispatched not long after we left,) Melireenya put in.
(I wonder that they didn’t leave more of the fleet on narhii-Vhiliinyar,) Neeva said. (What if the Khleevi should attack while we’re gone
?)
They all shuddered and tried to suppress images of all the people planetside biting down on suicide capsules.
(That’s not going to happen,) Neeva said firmly. (The Khleevi got a taste of their own medicine at Rushima and will not think we’re such easy targets again.)
(At least not any time soon,) Melireenya said. (But after this current crisis is dealt with, our government needs to put a bit more thought into defensive strategies and weapons again.)
(And we must find another world to evacuate to. It’s not enough to keep ships and personnel on hand at all times should evacuation be necessary. We need a place to go,) Khaari said.
(No,) Neeva countered. (Wishful thinking is no substitute for the kind of defense we saw at Rushima. We simply cannot just keep running from world to world and letting the Khleevi destroy everything we leave behind. When we return home, I believe we should approach the Council about getting our trade allies to join something like the Federation Khornya’s people belong to. I believe the time has come to take a stand.)
As they approached Nirii, it was decided among them that Neeva, as the ambassador, would take the shuttle to the surface, landing in the Linyaari-occupied district of Nirii’s principal continent’s principal city. The rest of the crew would remain aboard the Balakiire in orbit around Nirii.
Because the crew of the Balakiire did not know what to expect, the ship had not made her usual contact with the come base in this sector of the planet. When someone of Neeva’s stature paid a visit, it was customary to do so. But under these circumstances, the notice was waived as an unnecessary risk.
Neeva stepped out of the shuttle and onto the empty docking bay. Normally between five and ten shuttles stood here at any given time. As she gazed around the cavernous space, Neeva knew that something very wrong had occurred here.
She had made her landing cloaked and under cover of darkness, a moonless night with a light snow falling from a dark pewter sky emptied of light. The rest of the city was full of lights, all white, all small, and seemingly strung along orderly grids. This time of night the streets and skies were empty. Though there was no curfew and little superstition on Nirii, the people were nonetheless extremely conservative and self-contained. They conducted their business during the day and their home life at night, period. Like the Linyaari, they were inclined to use thought-talk, but they did so only privately, among friends and family, after heavy mental shielding was released. There had been no crime here for a number of years, nor had there been any war, making the people of this planet ideal trading partners for the Linyaari, particularly since they were a highly scientific and technologically inclined people.
The Linyaari district was not required to follow Niriian customs but usually did, in Neeva’s experience. But she saw no signs of life, no footprints of people or animals or any other species as she walked down the street between two of the four large dwellings that faced each other across a square. Centering the square was a park where athletic events, lectures, entertainments, and meetings were held. The building appeared, at least from the outside, to be totally deserted. She entered the door to the building on her left. It was unlocked, and irised open at her touch. This wasn’t too surprising. The residents of Nirii did not lock their doors as a rule.
The building felt sterile, devoid of life or any evidence of it. The doors to the cubicles had been removed, and gaped at her as she walked past them, peering into empty apartments containing no furnishings, mementos, or equipment. Each building had contained eight apartments, and all of these were empty, in each and every building. Neeva could catch not a whisper of thought, not a spark of raw emotion.
She returned to the outside, her skin crawling with the unnatural silence and emptiness of the places where some of the best and brightest of her people had lived while learning, teaching, trading.
As she stepped out onto the park, her feet disturbed the layer of snow on the ground. She noticed that the native grasses her people had planted here were untended, dead. Nor had there been anything remaining to eat in the indoor gardens that each apartment customarily boasted. There had, in fact, been no way to tell which room served which function, so completely empty had the former dwelling places been.
But beneath her feet the soil, snow-covered as it was, was beginning to tell her something at last. Anger and fear, confusion, interrupted sleep, interrupted mating, longing for loved ones who were not there, the cries of frightened children and some, not much, but enough to scare any resisters, actual pain.
She was so busy absorbing these impressions that she failed to hear the snow-muffled footsteps of the party approaching her until it was too late to run back to her shuttle.
Leading the party was the large, double-horned, heavily built form of her old friend and primary negotiating contact, Runae Thirgaare, along with some other Niriians unknown to her. And behind them, four uniformed people who looked very like those who had sheltered Khornya.
“Visedhaanye ferilii Neeva,” the Runae said to her with less warmth than usual in her greeting. “I am afraid we can no longer welcome you and your kind among us.”
“Why not?” Neeva asked. “Where are the others?”
One of the uniformed strangers stepped out from behind the Runae. “We will take you to them, Visedhaanye ferilii Neeva,” a hornless woman almost as large as the Runae said. “We are Federation forces and have detained your people to assist us with our inquiries into certain criminal irregularities we are investigating at this time.”
(Runae, please, speak to me yourself. What is happening here? You know I have only just come from my own world. What crimes could my people have committed? You know us as well as your own!)
(Not quite as well, Visedhaanye. Your people are inclined to some wildness and peculiar practices. They are unpredictable. Ours is a well-regulated world. We have no idea what trespasses you may have committed elsewhere. It’s to be expected, of course, of those who are deprived of the stabilizing influence of a second horn. I’m sure there is nothing to worry about. These people are from the regulatory body for a large federation of allied worlds far beyond us. We are, at their behest, considering membership at this time. So you see that of course we must respect their request for extradition.)
“For what criminal irregularities are we being charged?” Neeva demanded of the hornless beings.
“We’ll explain it all along the way,” the woman said.
She looked very familiar to Neeva. Her uniform particularly looked familiar. Wasn’t it very much the same one as was worn on Rushima by the troops that had assisted in the repulsion of the Khleevi attack?
Neeva pondered this as she was hustled past her own shuttle, which was being transported to the same place she was, a larger vessel with some official-looking markings on it. It wasn’t until the uniformed woman began to push her into the hatch, pushing down her head so that her horn did not catch on its upper flange, that Neeva recalled that the troops who had assisted on Rushima were not allied with any Federation. They were a private army of mercenaries under the command of one General Ikwaskwan.
Thirteen
Grandam was as good as her word. Acorna joined Maati and several other couriers in carrying messages back and forth from the governmental compound to the citizens at large. Despite grave concerns about the situation in space, Acorna felt better than she had done since her arrival now that she was able to be useful and somewhat a part of things. Being a government messenger also gave her a much better idea of the communities in the area and the scope of settlement on narhii-Vhiliinyar than trying to make contact on her own had done.
Besides the central compound, mostly composed of government officials and workers and their families, many of which included one or more members who were now on active duty as emissaries in space, and the large techno-artisan compound, there were many other petals to the flower that formed the populated area of narhii-Vhiliinyar.
Naturally, Acorna had realized there had to be more people than she had met
thus far. From the air she had seen what looked like a large flower garden spreading out over the continent upon which the Balakiire landed.
Now she realized that this flower garden was but a single bloom—the center was the government compound, and extending from it, connected by road and common grazing fields and plains, were the technoartisan compound, an educational compound (mostly for those who wished to study off-planet cultures—it was assumed that Linyaari would need no studies in how to be Linyaari, unfortunately for Acorna), an agricultural experimental farm where new food stuffs were developed and tried, and other functions.
One compound was mainly devoted to very senior elders who did nothing but contemplate higher philosophies and mathematics. The remainder of their compound was staffed by junior people who studied with the elders and supplied their practical needs. Grandam Naadiina said she had gone through that phase fifty ghannye ago and found it far more entertaining to be with the younger folk in the central compound. They were much more amusing, and laughing, she said, helped her stay youthful.
Narhii-Vhiliinyar had no mining and very little manufacturing, despite the bins of raw materials in the techno-artisan compound. Those were all imported.
Surrounding these compounds were the communities whose labor and expertise staffed the various enterprises, while beyond them, in semicircular clusters, were smaller units of the same sort, independently producing other products and supplying other services to their communities. Beyond the plains were low mountains and there, she was told, was where the Ancestors dwelled when not performing the ceremonial functions they had taken it upon themselves to offer.
Acorna’s People Page 17