Hubris: The Azdhagi Reborn

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Hubris: The Azdhagi Reborn Page 22

by Alma Boykin


  Tarkeela’s MoyTeek textile imports had completely eclipsed Shu Corp.’s, another slap in the face for Shu Clan. The heavy, warm materials MoyTeek specialized in, even though they only imported solid colors, outsold goods brought in by Shu and the other authorized dealers by at least twice the volume. As much as he hated to admit it, Shu knew that this one time he’d failed to anticipate a market opportunity. Although Shu personally found all mammalian products repugnant, once the other reptiles’ initial reluctance to wear mammal hair wore off, Azdhagi of all stations demanded MoyTeek’s proprietary tooroi-fleece blends. Shu could only clench his teeth as the Clans bought robes, wraps, blankets, and other materials, especially once BeeshCo developed a soft yet talon-resistant backing. Shu’s own experiments with new materials, including golden stem, only produced industrial-weight cordage and medical-grade fibers for sutures and stitches. Well, Shu still managed to produce more tree-fluff and tree-feather fibers than any other Clan, although rumor had it that Kaeshari planned a tree-fluff plantation to augment that Clan’s timber and fuel wood plantings.

  Shu walked out of his workroom onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard and hills of Dawn Sweep. Glowing patches moved back and forth as reptiles in work vests finished up tasks they’d not been able to accomplish by day, or ran errands in preparation for the next day’s labors. A heavy harvest of green stem fruit needed attention, and Shu’s manager had suggested, very tentatively, thinning the precious fruit in stages in order to reap the most benefit. The early fruit, too bitter to eat alone, made a truly delectable paste to use in cooking shootee, and after some hesitation the noble granted permission to start processing the paste for sale off Clan lands. Shu did not care for the taste of northern shootee, even if the animals did produce more meat, and had ordered the herd fed on goldgrain and other southern forage. In response, King-Emperor Seetoh and the royal Council had ordered all such feeding to stop, supposedly in order to preserve supplies for the Clans that had failed to plant enough other crops. Shu saw through the official story to the insult and punishment aimed at him and others with the intelligence to prepare and to insist on self-sufficiency from their Clan members.

  Shu forced himself to control his temper. For now, Kirlin and Tarkeela enjoyed Royal favor. However, such things did not last. The novelty of tooroi fleece and other MoyTeek offerings had to fade, especially once colony products began entering the market. And the export limits on foodstuffs expired in six years. Shu made a mental note to have his technicians experiment with storage-stable green-stem pastes, perhaps dehydrated forms? And he needed to bite the tails of some ShuCorp metallurgists for not getting the new alloys tested before the early bonus expired. Lord Shu knew that the reptiles had no excuse besides laziness. Perhaps cutting their lineages’ rations and land allowances might encourage better attention and energy. They couldn’t leave, not without paying off their debts—no other noble would accept them. The thought put the tan reptile in a better frame of mind.

  So, how should he deal with Kirlin’s abomination? Shu looked up at the stars of the Kings’ Highway, noticing the waxing Unnamed Moon. His spy could not terminate the corrupted female without drawing attention to himself and Shu did not care to waste a resource. Talking sense to Kirlin had failed utterly, even when Shu pointed out that creating Healers had been a goal of Star-Strong, rendering the creatures doubly suspect. Shu’s spines rose again as he heard Kirlin’s voice in his memory, “Shu, other species have the Healing gift and they use it. It is simply another weapon in our arsenal.”

  Peitak had agreed with Kirlin. “We should be doing anything we can to give ourselves a boost, to make the trails and tracks clearer. We no longer have enough of the clot-drugs for military and civilian use both, Shu. If all the Healers can do is stop bleeding, it will still be an blessed gift. Look at all the females having trouble because of bearing larger juniors!”

  Which raised another question, one Shu hesitated even to think about. Were juniors larger, or were this generation’s females smaller? If females grew smaller and had more and more trouble bearing juniors, then what? Maybe having a Healer or bleeding-stopper available might be useful after all.

  “Pah,” the tan reptile belched, disgusted with himself for even thinking such a thing. He sniffed the night air, smiling at the tang of ripening green stem. Well, he could do nothing about Kirlin’s monster now, but perhaps later his spies could find out where she went and what her habits were, and she could be eliminated. Yes, Shu decided, better to concentrate on the prey at hand rather than pining for the game over the hill. Perhaps there might be a way to break MoyTeek’s grip on tooroi imports, one way or another. With that, Shu turned his thoughts to more profitable things.

  Elsewhere, a True-dragon and Azdhag sat on a sun-warmed stone at the mouth of one of the House caverns in the Wildlands, watching the sky. “It does have a name,” Cheerka snorted. “We just never use it in speech, so it is the Unnamed Moon.”

  «Why not use it?» Rosilia popped a forefoot-full of roasted tree-nuts into her mouth, crunching the hot, mealy and salty snack against her palate. «Is it bad luck?»

  “It is now.” Cheerka pushed the bowl of tree-nuts toward the small True-dragon. “Help yourself, Rosi. They don’t agree with me today.” He sipped some herbal tea. “No, the original name, well, it sounds very much like the slang term for a type of sexual act. A very inappropriate sexual act.” Probably anatomically impossible as well, Cheerka thought. “So everyone just calls it the Unnamed Moon.”

  «Well, you can’t build anything there, so why not,» Rosilia decided, looking up at the satellite in question. The mountains around House Moytu’s main settlement hid most of the Kings’ Highway, as the Azdhagi called the Spirit Stream, but the moons could be seen this time of year. «Oh, Master Lorkiss says yes, he will train that little healer you found, if she’s willing and able to be trained. He’ll have to evaluate her in person.»

  It took Cheerka a moment to realize what the True-dragon referred to. “Wonderful! Did he say when?”

  «Quote, as soon as you can get the little thing up here, quote. She might burn herself out if she doesn’t get trained, as strong as she sounds. That or go mad.»

  Cheerka blinked. He’d never heard that story. “Why would she go mad? Guilt at not being able to heal people correctly?”

  «From hearing people in her head,» and Rosi popped more tree-nuts into her wrinkled muzzle. «Among many species, healing and telepathy come together. How would you react to hearing strange voices in your head and not knowing how to shut them out?»

  “It depends on what they said,” the brown Azdhag started. “If I could use the information, I might not mind.”

  A blue-green forefoot and tail swirled, rejecting the thought. «Imagine being shouted at all day, every day, waking and sleeping, and not knowing how to make the sound stop, or even if any of the voices were yours?»

  Phrased that way, the idea made Cheerka’s head pound. “Ah, I track your prey now.” He finished his tea and pulled his jacket tighter, snugging the belt a little more as he imagined a little bit of cold air trickling along his back. “Would being time sensitive make a person go mad too?”

  Rosilia’s tail rumpled and she twirled her ears. «No idea. No True-dragons have that talent. Only Wanderers, Rowfow, a few humans, and yeah, those ones we don’t talk about.» She finished the nuts and added, «Temporal sensitivity is the rarest form of energy use and awareness, even rarer than telekenisis and teleportation.»

  “That is rare.” If someone had told him ten years before that he’d be sitting on a heated bench at the mouth of a cave, talking to a True-dragon about psionic abilities and watching the stars, he’d have bashed them over the head and called the peacekeepers to report an escaped madman. It was like living in a completely different world, and he swished his tail at the wonder and horror of it all. “So, I will tell Tarkeela tomorrow that Kirlin can send his Healer up here. Did Master Lorkiss say what she needs to bring with her?”

  «Oh y
es. I’ll send you the data list. Mostly robes and a file-reader with every anatomical file you Azdhagi have.» Rosi wondered how the little Azdhag would transfer True-dragon anatomical information over to her own species. «You know, maybe having healers trained for multiple species is not such a bad idea,» she thought to Cheerka.

  “From what I recall, a lot of mercenary companies do that very thing. Their medics are trained for specific species groups, but not limited to one species. So you have a reptile medic, or a mammal medic, who then focuses on trauma and battlefield medicine.” Cheerka tried to remember more from his long-gone military days. “Don’t True-dragons ever serve in mercenary companies?”

  The now-empty nut bowl scraped and clattered over the stones of the cave floor as Rosilia pushed it out of the way. «Not that I’ve heard of. In the military of House governed lands and worlds, yes, but not as mercs. Shipboard accommodation is often a problem,» she reminded him with a sharp poke in the ribs.

  “Oh. Sorry.” He forgot that other True-dragons considered Rosi a dwarf, even though she equaled an Azdhag male in stature and length. “And Tarkeela wants you back as soon as you are ready. He can’t find the password list for TeerClaw’s account with da Malnavi.”

  «Again?» Rosi and Cheerka sighed in unison. «He’d never last a morning waiting tables, let alone behind the bar.»

  “I’m not going down that trail,” Cheerka averred, even though he agreed with her.

  Two days later, Cheerka struggled to keep from gaping at the five True-dragons gathered at the gates of Mountains’ Edge manor. Lord Nigelus made a rare appearance in honor of the unprecedented event, looming over the Azdhagi in purple-green splendor. Master Lorkiss, almost as large, flexed green wings that shimmered in the early spring sunlight. Ostro, the Head of House Moytu, accompanied the Healer, as did Farfee, a Healer student whose midnight blue and pale gray colors would make an Azdhagi dye blender jealous. Gracee, Ostro’s twin sister, stood out against the fresh green of the grass, pale pink where her brother sported black and vice versa. A half-hover rumbled into sight and landed well clear of the gathered reptiles. Five tiny figures emerged and Cheerka backed up to stand behind Lord Tarkeela. “Coward,” the noble teased.

  “Absolutely, my lord.” Cheerka did not care to be near Lord Kirlin if his little Healer failed the initial tests. And “little” certainly described the nervous female Azdhag trotting after Kirlin, Cheerka thought.

  “Lord Tarkeela,” Kirlin acknowledged as the other reptiles bowed. “Lord Nigelus,” and Kirlin dipped his head in acknowledgment.

  «Well met, Lord Kirlin,» a deep mind voice rumbled in all their minds. The little female shook her head as if she had water down her ear holes, and Cheerka noticed the two True-dragon healers exchanging a complicated gesture. «If Neela passes Lorkiss’s tests, she will be the first Azdhag we have ever trained, as best our archives suggest. Ostro, all yours,» and the enormous True-dragon pivoted, stepping out of the way without crushing or hitting anyone.

  “Ah, a test, Lord Nigelus?” Kirlin had missed that part of the message, apparently.

  Neela gulped. She’d never seen any living thing as big as the True-dragons before. A high-pitched female voice squeaked into her mind, «Pish. If you think we are big, you should see a ship-fish.» Neela shook her head again. The voices made her feel buzzy.

  Lorkiss stretched his neck and lowered his head, studying the tiny female Azdhag. «Neela? Is that your name?»

  “Yes, Master Lorkiss.” She focused her attention on the green True-dragon. That way she wouldn’t worry about Lord Kirlin or Lord Tarkeela or anyone else.

  «I have two questions, Neela. First, why do you want to learn to be a Healer?»

  “Um.” No one had ever asked her that! She tried not to panic. “Ah, because I want to do it right?”

  The green head bobbed up and down, making its whiskers float up and down as well. «Second, what will you do with your gift if I teach you?»

  “I’ll try to make people better. Make their bodies better,” she clarified.

  None of the True-dragons moved and Kirlin wanted to clap his forefeet over his eyes. That’s not what he’d told her to answer! She was supposed to talk about the benefits to the Clan and to all Azdhagi if she could heal. Mentioning the diplomatic link with the True-dragons would help, that and the prestige and honor that the True-dragons would gain.

  For his part, Cheerka wondered if he should have told Tarkeela and Kirlin about Master Lorkiss’s entire offer. If Neela passed his tests, he would train her. If not, he would block her completely, shutting down her gift, and would do the same for all Azdhagi who manifested the ability. Which meant that they would probably die, either in the process of the blocking or would be killed as mis-born.

  «Well spoken, Neela. I will take you on as my student, first as a Healer in training and then will show you how to teach other Azdhagi.» Neela almost fell over with relief and the other Azdhagi relaxed.

  “Thank you, Master Lorkiss,” and she bowed.

  «Pish, you won’t be thanking me when you stay up all night treating four juniors with scale-spot,» the huge green medic snorted, not unkindly. «Farfee, take Neela and go to the transport.» The blue-and-gray True-dragon gestured for Neela to follow, but she hesitated, looking toward Lord Kirlin.

  “Go with the True-dragons, Neela, and learn all that you can,” Kirlin ordered.

  She bowed very low. “Yes, great my lord.” The two females trundled out of sight, Neela almost running to keep up with Farfee.

  «Come back in a year-turn, Lord Kirlin,» Ostro told the noble. «She will have all the training of this sort that she needs.»

  Lorkiss straightened up and spread his wings slightly. «Indeed. Her basic training remains for Azdhagi to finish. All I will teach is energy use,» he confirmed. «If you will excuse me?» He lumbered off without waiting for a reply, followed by the others.

  Kirlin and Tarkeela stared after the departing True-dragons. Finally, Tarkeela let out a long hiss of air. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

  “It really was,” the younger noble agreed, watching as two transport craft lifted off and headed west, into the Wildlands. “She’d better learn.”

  Tarkeela swept his tail, careful to hold it above the sticky mud. “She will, and she’ll probably come back knowing a great deal more about a lot of things than any of us are comfortable with, Kirlin. Somehow females always do,” he sighed, and Cheerka snorted irreverently. Tarkeela glared at the burly male, then rose onto his hind legs and swept his forelegs apart in a welcoming gesture. “Be welcome to Mountains’ Edge, Lord Kirlin. Hearth, table, and talon are at your service.”

  Kirlin dipped his head. “I thank you, Lord Tarkeela, and gratefully accept the gift of hearth, table, and talon.” The two nobles strolled into the main gate, leaving their servants, assistant, and chronicler to follow.

  As the guests entered the manor house courtyard, Cheerka flashed a discrete signal to a large male standing on the outside of the open gates. Tarkeela’s head of security twirled his tail tip. He could stand down his men.

  10. Down from the Mountain

  5 AGR

  “Did you see that?”

  Korlee slowly swept the hillside above Mountains’ Edge manor house with his distance viewer. The green-and-brown male started to lower the device, then shifted it back so he could study the shadows where the trees met a meadow. A single flash of light burst from the edge. “Affirmative. I see it and I do not like it one bit.” He should see nothing but grass in that meadow. “Alert our peacekeepers. And I wonder who or what he’s signaling?” Korlee watched some more and spotted another flash, this time farther down the hill and well into the tall grass of the old burn. He adjusted the zoom, bringing the figure into sharp focus. “Fewmets!” He lowered the viewer and bellowed, “Security breach, abort the landing, abort the landing!”

  Two aircraft broke off their landing approaches, clawing for altitude as Tarkeela’s security detail scrambled. They’d made plan
s for something like this, and Korlee reached back, turning on his transmitter. “Option Six Two now in effect.” The aircraft to the east diverted south, toward Mountains’ Edge’s secondary settlement, while the other vehicle ducked into a flat area beside the Zhangki River.

  “Cheerka, go with Korlee and his men to Burnt Mountain,” Tarkeela ordered, pulling on armor and jamming both a blaster and a sword into his battle harness. “I’ll take my guards down to the river.”

  The story-catcher, already armed and armored, saluted, spun, and galloped down two ramps, across the courtyard, and out the gate, barely clearing the threshold as the heavy metal gates slammed shut. “Korlee, to the mountain,” Cheerka hollered. The head of security gestured his acknowledgment, pointed to a second waiting vehicle, and leapt into his own transport. Cheerka heaved himself into the armored troop carrier. As soon as his tail cleared the hatch the back panel dropped with a “thamp!” and the driver kicked the vehicle into gear, charging down a newly cleared road.

  “Damn, I hope this works,” Cheerka whispered. And I’m getting too old for this kind of hunt, he finally admitted to himself.

  The attackers hesitated, torn by conflicting instructions. “Damn it, forget Kirlin and grab the runt,” Shu’s security chief barked, pointing toward the river. The three light-attack vehicles roared from their hiding places, tore through the half-built town’s streets and surrounded the half-hover just as it touched down. One of Shu’s men shot into one of the aircraft’s engines, shorting the electronic controls and crippling the vehicle. “Grab the female,” Shaakee commanded, swinging a heavy rifle into position to cover the half-hover.

 

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