The air was calm for a brief time before rain started pouring. I had no idea how long it would continue. The season was uncertain, as far as rain was concerned. I would prefer that the rain be brief.
- 3 -
The wind had died. But the skies were unfailingly gray and wet. The rain was unending. I led Scott up the side of a narrow trail to an archway through the wall of the city.
We moved slowly, two weary, soaked and slipping travelers nearing journey's end. Scott was the one who slipped and stumbled on the rocks. My tail merely dragged. Even though this was a barely used entry, the gate clicked and swung open as I entered the archway. It was keyed to me or others of my people. Then we were out of the rain. Finally.
The gate shut behind us.
I led him through alleys and side streets, which, for the weather and time of day, were mostly empty. Those who witnessed our passage moved aside, most bowing, all falling silent. The sight of a Shymyra was uncommon. In the company of a visitor it creates questions; although none would be voiced.
*
Several nodded to me as I entered the court of the Waiting. Then all ten of the Presence came from their various chambers, nodding and speaking words of greeting. The robes and veils showed only eyes and gloved hands.
Scott watched with wonder and interest.
"Welcome to the court, Scott Aradette," said one soft voice, Lyda. She touched my wet fur gently before turning to Scott.
"I am glad the report of your death was mistaken," Lyda said.
"Me, too," he said. "Can I make a call to my dad?"
"Yes," she assured him. "In time. We must learn the truth and give you welcome, food, bath, clean clothing, these things first. Go with Ala and Seyo, they will tend you.
"Ah," she said, holding out her hand. "May I see that stick?"
"Will Shymyra be okay?" he said, gesturing to me.
The question caused a turning of heads, but Lyda gave a laugh.
"Yes, Scott Aradette, the Shymyra will be fine," she assured him.
Scott turned and went with the other two.
Lyda stepped back to my side, holding the crutch I'd made.
"Is this true?" She wondered, a covered finger tracing the characters. I changed, glad to have dry skin.
"Yes," I said. "What do you know?"
"There is time, sister, why not refresh yourself first," she said.
"Something's going on. What does the boy have to do with it?"
We headed to a side chamber.
"Unfortunately, the boy seems a pawn in the play of the star powers," she replied.
Lyda settled onto a cushion as I slipped into the bath.
"You would've caught the storm if you crossed the sand," she observed when I surfaced.
"I did. It was an ordeal keeping him alive," I murmured.
"Ah, you recognize he is a human boy? You are Shymyra elluval."
"I recognized him," I said. "I've started nothing nor do I intend. The boy's mother died."
"I saw that here," she said, tapping the crutch. "What's on your mind?"
"Four assulla were slain. I found their furs."
"Oh, maker," she said. "Four? You took…"
"Yes. And the storm likely buried all evidence. Scott saw me taking retribution."
Dropping the crutch, she turned to me, her veils flying.
"Saw you?" She exclaimed.
"Not this me but a more human me… Yes," I said. "With bloody hands, too."
"All of our hands have blood, Akena."
I rinsed my hair.
"What did he say?"
"He asked who she was," I said.
"He is only a child," she said.
"An adolescent human," I said. "On the cusp of manhood …"
"Akena," she said. "You make a joke?"
"I do, Lyda. My path seems to call me as protector."
"Not when he goes off-world," she said.
*
When I saw Scott next I was in gown and veils with my brothers and sisters. Seyo brought him from the guest chamber. He looked uncomfortable in a robe. He looked bewildered.
"Greetings, Scott Aradette," I said. "I am called Akena. How are you?"
"I'm okay," he said. "I think… my hand…"
As he spoke he was lifting that appendage, sliding it free of the sleeve.
"I didn't know how badly he was injured," Seyo said. "I…"
Bowing to her, I stopped her protestations as I held my gloved hand out to Scott. Examining the injury I was relieved to see how well it looked.
"Aah," I said, looking at it, top and underside, turning it.
Scott watched my hands and his. He said nothing about the gloves, likely knowing our ways.
"How does it feel?" I asked.
"It's stiff and itches," he said. "But it feels okay. I don't remember how it got injured. Shymyra didn't let me unwrap it."
"Yes," I said. "She knew it needed to heal. The ointment she put on it helped the burns."
"Burns?" Scott flinched. "I do remember. How do you know?"
"Your founding is writ upon the stick you carry," I said. "As this looks now you must've been seriously injured."
"Yes, I suppose I was," he said. "My knee, too, I guess."
"You seem fine," I said. "I should give you ointment and a soft glove that will help. Bandages are unnecessary. You should begin flexing it, forcing it to bend and move to your will so that you recover completely."
"Thank you," he said.
Looking down at his wide blue eyes was a difference and he was more hesitant now, nowhere near as relaxed as he had been.
"Where is Shymyra?" he asked. "I mean the Shymyra… my… my… the Shymyra I came with."
"She is at rest," I said. "Her journey is over. She brought you from the wild to the city. Do you expect more of her?"
"Her?" he said. "No, no, I suppose not. I just thought… well, I thought we got along well together. I thought she'd be with me… I suppose I didn't think."
Scott was uncomfortable seeing only my eyes, he would get used to it if he was here for long.
"Come, Scott Aradette," I said leading him to an inner chamber. "Let's place that call to your father. How would that be?"
"Oh, great," he said. "That'll be good. Then…"
The future faded from his thoughts as he considered the past.
"One step along the path at a time," I said.
He fought the sadness. I opened up a console. This was a gift of the Warders when they'd established relations.
"Do you have a contact reference for your father?" I said.
*
"Scott, are you okay?"
"Dad," Scott said. "Mom's dead, dad. They all died."
"I thought you had died, too," said the man. "Where are you? I don't recognize this code."
"I'm at…"
I sent my hand on Scott's shoulder and he turned to me, surprised.
"Where am I?" He murmured.
"This is your father?" I said, looking at the image, keeping my hand still.
"Yes, of course," Scott said.
For an instant his eyes, those fascinating blue eyes, met mine before he looked at the image. With one hand on his shoulder I touched the pad. A small info band shifted from my language to Scott's.
'Displayed image is a simulated life form,' the band read.
I felt Scott's immediate tension.
"Sire Aradette," I said. "As governor I must ask why no recovery vessel was dispatched to the site of Scott's accident?"
There was a noticeable hesitation.
"We had no rescue ships available at the time of the incident, governor."
I input more directions to the console and watched the readouts.
"Aah," I said. "Perhaps you can now send the recovery craft to remove the wreckage to prevent further ecological damage to our preserve."
"I'll see that it is dealt with," the man said. "Now, could you give me your location so that I can have someone of my staff escort Scott home?"
/> "Well, the young human has suffered several injuries. We are not yet satisfied with his healing. When we release him to the Warder you may receive him."
"You have no right to…"
I cut the simulation off with a word and shut the console down. I paced across the room to Lyda and Seyo.
"What is going on?" I said in our language.
"As I said, the boy is a pawn in some game of the star powers," Lyda said.
"What game?" I said.
Lyda shook her head. It was Seyo who answered.
"Someone of these humans has assessed value of our… world, or so we suspect."
"What investigation has been done?" I wondered.
"It is not so easy to infiltrate any of these bands," Lyda said. "We have several masters at the task but… by the progenitors you know how careful we must be."
"So this is merely suspicion?" I wondered.
"Something moves them but it is concealed," Seyo said in agreement.
"When did it start?" I said.
"Who can know?" Lyda said. "Southern governors have reported subsurface scans of that hemisphere."
"Land or sea?" I said.
"Both. There is nothing to be found, we know that," she said. "Not there."
"Excuse me," Scott said from the middle of the room, watching us.
I took a deep breath and we turned to face him. I gave a bow.
"Forgive me, Scott Aradette," I said. "We were discussing this complication."
"Complication?" he said. "That was a sim… not my dad. Does that mean someone's killed him, too?"
I approached him, seeing the pain the idea caused.
"We do not know," I said softly.
When I reached a hand to offer comfort he shied away.
"What do you know?" he said, angrily.
I drew my hand back, folding both in my sleeves. "We know that your aircar was shot down, equipment disabled and you were to die as the others on that flight, as you surmised."
"That's it?" he said.
"We know that an off-world person used a simulated life-form in an attempt to take possession of you. That is all we know as fact." I watched his eyes as thoughts and emotions battered at him. He had lost mother and perhaps friends and now learned his father might be dead or captive. Turning to my sisters, I caught them studying me, I waved one hand.
"Of what importance is his father?" I said in our tongue. "What office does he hold?"
"Alà is researching the family," Seyo said.
"What are your intentions?" Lyda wondered.
"I must continue on this path," I said, though, as I did a familiar sense of foreboding arose in my breast.
"Akena," Lyda said, protesting the importance of my decision. I forestalled her with a raised hand. We all knew that this might be trouble. Ever since the first WiRasshitearla trader landed, this path was being prepared… if this indeed is the one we feared.
"We will support you," Seyo said.
"Fine," I said. "Set more of the Masters to the task."
They nodded and waited for more. Instead I shook my head.
"We might need to leave, Akena," Lyda said. "Have you considered such a thing?"
I nodded but my throat tightened and I could not speak to that matter. I could only hope it would not come to pass. They bowed and left. For a time I stood struggling with the feeling of absolute failure. What we did had no foreseeable end… it was continuity that could end with success but could end in failure. The difficulty was that we had no influence on which, we worked for the best. This was my path.
"Scott Aradette," I said, when I could face him. "May I offer food and water?"
"Thank you," he said. "But I've eaten. Your name is Akena?"
"Yes."
"Why would someone pretend to be my father?" he said.
I began leading him toward an alcove where we could sit.
"Perhaps," I said. "You might answer that better than I."
After I motioned to the cushions, he sat and then made himself comfortable. We did not use chairs but at a duty station. Reclining on his side he watched me settle.
"Why do you only reveal your eyes?" he said.
"We do not reveal ourselves to others. The reason is our custom and a command."
"There was a girl out in the desert," he said, toying with the fringe of a cushion. "She killed the poachers… but she was naked. Why would she reveal herself?"
"Likely she was merely a wanderer," I said. "Such do not have need of clothing and living in that land does not reveal her, indeed such a one would be a rare sight."
"So she wouldn't be one of you?" he said.
"No," I said. "You would not see that kind in the cities."
An odd look showed in his eye before he turned. Not that I read his thoughts but it was all too clear that he regretted not seeing her again or having such a possibility.
"Who commands you to be concealed?" he said.
I smiled at that, though he could not see.
"We do the will of the Progenitors," I said. "Surely you learned that much. We obey their commands."
"Yes, at the museum," he said. "But how do you know they want you to continue obeying such ancient commands?"
At first his eyes had met mine then glanced aside.
"Sorry," he said abruptly. "That's rude… forget I asked."
"No, Scott Aradette," I said, showing my empty, gloved palm. "You must take your path in life and resolve the matters that concern you. When such a question arises you must deal with it so that your path is clear."
"Ah," he said.
"The Progenitors gave us purpose for our lives, first that we govern this, our world, maintaining it, restoring what had been lost. And second that we keep that trust for their return."
"When will they return?" he wondered.
This was a question most visitors ask… one of a dozen. I shook my head, turning my hand over and concealing it.
"We do not know," I said.
"Oh," he said.
It was obvious that he didn't wish to deal with the matter of his father. It was his right. After all the time I'd spent with him I knew he would bring it up when he was ready.
"But yet you wait," he said later.
"Yes," I said.
Outside, the rain washed world darkened as Tamsla hid. The alcove began to glow with diffused light.
"They wanted you to give me over to them," he said.
The obvious.
"But why?" he continued. "I wouldn't have anything anyone would need."
I watched his eyes. Glancing at me, he flinched. An odd look crossed his features.
"Where is Shymyra?" he wondered.
I smiled.
"You mean the one who led you here?" I said.
"Yes, sorry."
"Likely she has gone about her duty," I said.
"A cat… sorry, a Holy cat has duties," he said.
"Yes, Scott Aradette," I said. "Surely you don't think we governors can rule this world alone? The Shymyra move through the lands to do what they can and call upon us at need."
"Wow, I knew she was intelligent but… well, I guess I should have realized it," he said.
I shook my head.
"There's no reason you should have," I said. "Though, she likely managed to communicate."
"Yes," he said. "It took a while to catch on. She was patient with me. And that sandstorm… my hand. How…?"
The tracking of his mind was interesting, darting about like a whilisp.
"This is a very old world," I said. "The Shymyra are a very old people. Their intelligence is unsurpassed."
"How old are your people?" he wondered.
"Just as old, though likely we are not so smart," I said.
Scott twisted a cushion onto his lap, staring at his hand, the soft glove.
"How could she know to use that medicine on me?" he murmured. "I'm not of this world."
"It would not matter to her," I said. "The Shymyra have a sense of smell that provides many
answers."
"But you call them Holy," he said. "That implies a connection to a higher, mystical power. But nothing about you seems religious."
"It is true that we have no religion as your people define such a thing," I said. "We believe that there is a greater intelligence at work in the way of our paths. Perhaps in time I will find the words in your language to explain it."
"Oh, okay," he said. "There's…"
Another Shymyra paced up beside me and studied Scott. It was Malda, one of my brothers. I hadn't seen him earlier.
"That's…" Scott said. "This one is different."
"Yes, this is a male," I said, holding my tongue from speaking names. Our Shymyra name was our name.
"Is he… Shymyra's mate?" Scott wondered.
"No," I said, although I knew Malda had some interest. I was not inclined to partner again anytime soon. Not for a long time now after seeing the dead… Malda looked at me. His golden eyes showed his tolerance. He was a Master and had likely returned with some report.
"Can I see her?" Scott said quietly.
We looked at him.
"Perhaps later," I said. "For this moment we must decide some things."
"Right. Why do they want me?" he wondered again.
"And who are they?" I added.
"I don't have anything," he said. "I don't know anything."
"Your mother was killed, even as she killed one of her enemies. Your camp has been invaded," I said. "You were meant to die. Now they want you."
Scott was silent. He wiped at his eyes with the tassels of the cushion. I bit my breath back as the obvious struck me.
"It is possible that they want something from your father," I said. "In which case, he is alive but hostage. They need something from him so need him alive. Stubbornness has caused you to be valuable."
"Yeah," Scott didn't sound surprised, likely having already seen this.
"What will you do?" I asked.
"I don't know," he said. "What options do I have? The Warders wouldn't help in this type of thing. Likely dad's security team is dead or bought. If I surrendered to them… there's not much chance either of us would survive."
I nodded. Alà entered and sat beside me. She set an assortment of fruit and human snacks near Scott and handed him a glass of juice.
The Progenitors Page 4