by R. J. Leahy
The old man nodded, his long locks falling around his face.
"You can make seed then?"
"Well, no..."
He grinned. “Not so simple, yes?"
Jeena frowned. It was impossible to disprove a negative—that is, that spirits didn't exist—so she let it drop.
"Okay, Nanor,” she sighed, “you win. Teach me the prayer again."
* * * *
Nanor had been testing Jeena on her recent knowledge and now sat back, pleased with her progress. “You good student. Learn much,” he told her.
"You good teacher,” she answered.
He leaned forward and studied her closely, his expression serious.
"Nanor old. Soon tribe need new kho'pan. You strong. Have much power."
Maintaining the tribe's health and enlarging its population was of paramount importance to a culture where infant mortality was high, and to the Intawa nothing was more blessed than the birth of a child. High value was therefore placed on fertility, and much of Nanor's work involved obtaining the gods’ assistance in helping couples conceive.
As his unofficial assistant, Jeena had aided him in many of these rituals, and the couples were delighted to have the concubine of Shahaiya, a god with legendary sexual prowess, perform in the ceremonies.
* * * *
"But I can't stay, Nanor. Samson—I mean Shahaiya—and I must leave soon. You know this."
"Yes,” he replied, grinning and nodding. “Semata stay with Shahaiya.” He bumped his fists together. “Mate. Have tigra-child. He live with Intawa. Be strong kho'pan for tribe."
Jeena blanched. She was saved from having to explain the absurdity of this remarkable—and genetically impossible—request by Samson's timely arrival.
"Jeena, Ewar wants to meet with us. The pass is open,” he said.
He looked curiously at her silent and stunned expression. Nanor sat nodding and smiling.
"What? Did I miss something?"
* * * *
Ewar squatted by the fire with several other hunters.
"Can we make it through the pass now?” Jeena asked.
"Yes. We take you to Mor-da-chi now. Must go before more snow comes."
"How long to get to Mordachi, Ewar?” Samson wanted to know.
"Leave now, reach home of Mountain People when Little Ka-ta still in sky."
The Intawa referred to the two moons of Ararat as Big and Little Ka-ta, after the fireflies that frequented their lands every summer. If the small moon was still visible, then they should reach the mountain before midnight.
Jeena dressed in the skins and furs of the Intawa, and she and Samson packed what little supplies they had on their kytar. They met Ewar and the others on the outskirts of the village where they were waiting. The Intawa were sad to see them go but not too surprised—apparently, gods were not expected to stick around forever.
Nanor gave a blessing for their travels then performed a second rite Samson didn't understand, patting Jeena's belly and his rump, all the while grinning.
"What the hell was that all about?” he asked her as the hunters led them away.
She muttered something unintelligible and picked up her pace, a blush warming her face.
* * * *
The snow had melted considerably over the last few days, and traveling was easy. In several places the trail narrowed so that they had to dismount and move in single file. Ewar said it was these narrows that made traversing the pass in winter so difficult—the snow here often reached the height of two men.
They finally left the constricted pass and entered a wide valley, beyond which Ewar said lay the mountain of Mordachi and his people. The snow was somewhat deeper, but showed signs of recent melting, and they made good time, the hard crust crunching under them as they went.
"Ewar, what are the Mountain People like?” Jeena asked, pulling her fur collar tight. Although she had fully recovered from her sickness, cold would continue to bother her the rest of her life.
Ewar shrugged. “They friends with Intawa, but they strange. Know much, but have no gods."
"Do they actually live in a mountain?” Samson asked.
"Yes. Live in belly of Pakahaita, Fire Mountain.” He pointed to the horizon ahead.
Jeena halted and looked through the binoculars, gazing for a time before handing them to Samson. There was a high peak in the range that was conspicuous for its lack of snow cover. A heavy mist surrounded it, appearing to rise from the mountain itself.
He handed the glasses back to her. “What do you think?"
"Ararat is rich in thermal energy. I suppose they could have found a way to channel heat through the mountain."
Samson looked back at the mist-shrouded peak. “I thought that kind of technology was forbidden on a zed-tech world."
Jeena considered that. The equipment needed to pump natural heat through the interior of a mountain was far beyond anything even remotely allowed on a zed-designated world. Hell, even the machinery necessary to carve out the mountain would be prohibited.
"You're right,” she said. “It is."
They stopped for a meal just as the sun was going down. Ewar had a faggot of sticks tied to the back of his kytar and made a small fire for them. They ate dried meat and flour cakes as Jeena questioned him and the other hunters about matters that had been puzzling her.
"Ewar, where did the Mountain People come from?"
Vicki had only mentioned two chartered colonies, and none of her maps showed any human habitation anywhere near here.
Ewar pointed west. “Many seasons past they come. People of A-free-dee."
She choked. Samson stopped in mid-bite and stared wide-eyed at the hunter.
"Do you mean,” Jeena asked slowly, “that the people of the mountain came from the west, from the Afridi?"
He nodded. “It is so, yes."
Her mind spun. It makes no sense. Why would Touloc, an avowed enemy of the Rosh-dan, send them to seek the help of other Afridi? But maybe Ewar had it wrong. Maybe there were other colonies west of here.
"How do you know this?” she asked.
He looked at her coolly. “Intawa know many things. Story of coming of Mountain People told to Ewar by father's father. Intawa know this. Intawa here before people of mountain, before people of A-free-dee."
Jeena did a quick calculation. Three generations would put the story back about sixty years. So, this group was at least half a century removed from the people of New Jerusalem.
Daniel had said that the Afridi's influence did not extend east, so maybe this was a breakaway sect, unconnected to their distant cousins.
But there was no way to determine that now. Touloc had been on the edge of death when he spoke. Maybe he had been delusional, or had meant something entirely different. Either way, one thing was certain—they couldn't go back. There was nothing to go back to.
She murmured to Samson, “For the time being we better not let those people know about your, uh ... unique talents."
"What if they don't wait to find out?” he asked nervously. “The Rosh-dan were ready to kill me before I said a word."
"I can't imagine these people are as brutal. The fact that Touloc sent us to find them, and that they are friends of the Intawa, speaks volumes. But we won't take any chances. I'll keep the MAAD close and the pistol in my coat. At the first sign of trouble we'll hightail it back to Ewar's people."
Samson tossed more wood on the fire.
"So, why can't I talk?” he asked glumly.
He doesn't want to have to act like an animal, but for now it's the safest course.
"Look, they may not feel one way or another about an ordinary tigra, but you? To the Intawa you're a god. To another culture you could be something completely different."
"I should have just stayed in the j'led,” he groused.
"Maybe. But we didn't have this information until now.” She pointed at Ewar and the other hunters, who were engaged in their own conversation. “Besides, look how meeting the Intawa t
urned out. People deserve a chance to prove themselves."
* * * *
Samson looked at Ewar, who smiled back. Jeena was right. If he hadn't been so desperate he never would have made contact with the Intawa. After the episode in New Jerusalem, he would have avoided all humans like packs of hungry usks, and yet now he was one of them. He was a tigra, and still he was their brother and clansman, the god Shahaiya. No matter what these new humans might think of him he always had that—a place to belong.
"Okay,” he grumbled, “so I won't talk. But I'm telling you, I see one bearded nut with a knife and...” He made a sliding motion of one paw over the other. “...I'm outta there."
* * * *
Jeena had some difficulty explaining to Ewar and the others why she didn't want the Mountain People to know Samson could talk. She finally convinced them it was a joke she was playing. Ewar agreed it would be a very good joke on the Mountain People, and he agreed only to tell them that Samson was Jeena's pet—a statement she made sure Samson did not hear.
With that settled, she was left to puzzle on another statement Ewar had made. He had said the Intawa were on Ararat before the Afridi. But how can that be? The Afridi were the first colony chartered, immediately after the Five-Year Survey. The Intawa weren't even mentioned on the profile report, and there was no way the survey could have missed them.
When she could come to no logical answer, she asked him.
"Ewar, you said the mountain people came from the west. Where did the Intawa come from?"
He glanced at her and Samson then shot his arm straight up in the air, his finger pointing to the star-filled sky.
They finished their meal and began again toward the mountain Ewar called Pakahaita—the place Touloc had called Pyros. The peak now towered above them, and the mist was heavier, creating a ground fog that was disorienting. Even Ewar seemed uncomfortable riding through it.
At the base of the mountain he led them in a wide circle, seemingly searching for a landmark of some kind.
"How do we get inside?” Samson asked, staring apprehensively at the steaming rock.
"Ring bell,” Ewar answered.
They continued through the dense fog, the sounds of their movements muffled as they made their way around the mountain. Presently, Ewar halted. He looked behind then ahead, as though uncertain of his location. He signaled the others to wait and spurred his kytar, disappearing into the shadows of the rock.
"Friendly looking place, isn't it?” Samson commented. He was sniffing the air and peering through the fog nervously. “What do you think he's looking for?"
Jeena dismounted and stretched her legs.
"I guess like he said—a bell."
Suddenly, the tolling of a deep sonorous gong resounded through the fog.
"Looks like he found it."
Leading their kytars, they headed in the direction of the sound and found Ewar standing in front of a huge bell suspended from a heavy wooden beam. He held a large mallet in his hands. Lifting the mallet, he struck the bell again. The low, resonant sound carried only a short distance before being swallowed up in the dense mist.
They waited in the silence that followed until Ewar lifted the mallet to strike again. Then, from the fog, came the sound of approaching kytars.
"Oha!” Ewar called in the direction of the sound.
"Oha, Intawa. Hello,” came the reply, and two riders were suddenly before them, as if materializing from the fog itself. Jeena sensed Samson tense.
The two men dismounted and greeted Ewar warmly. They bore little resemblance to the Afridi, she noted hopefully. There were no black robes but rather clothing of more-or-less modern cut, with the loose-draped pants and double-breasted shirts that were only slightly out of style in the Union.
One of the men carried a synlamp, and again Jeena wondered at the advanced technology on this supposedly zed-tech world. Synlamps were basic energy wells, absorbing electromagnetic waves in all forms then releasing them back as light.
They spoke with Ewar in the Intawa language, occasionally flashing the light in Samson's direction and speaking excitedly. Ewar seemed to be explaining something and trying to calm them. They appeared only slightly mollified as they redirected the light to Jeena and the conversation continued.
Finally, they walked over and introduced themselves.
"I am Paul Byron, assistant to the Prime Minister of Pyros,” said the holder of the lamp. He was a dark-haired young man of average height—Jeena guessed his age at mid-twenties. “This is David Proverst, commander of our armed forces,” he continued.
He gestured to the slightly older, taller man by his side, whom Jeena noted was carrying an old, outdated carbine. Both men seemed wary of Samson, keeping their distance and eying him nervously.
"Ewar informs us that you have tamed this tigra,” said David Proverst. “I must tell you I find that unlikely. We have studied this species for years and have never been able to domesticate them."
"Nevertheless, he is quite tame and you are in no danger,” she assured him.
Samson remained silent, but the fur on his neck bristled, and he watched them closely through unfriendly eyes.
The armed man seemed unconvinced and anxious to have the meeting over.
"Very well. Ewar tells me you have a message for us. May we ask what it is?"
Jeena hesitated. “I was told to deliver it to a man named Mordachi."
David nodded. “Mordachi is the Prime Minister of Pyros. We will see the message gets to him."
Despite the differences in appearance, Jeena was not ready to trust in the descendents of Afridi.
"Mr. Proverst, my message was to be delivered to Mordachi himself. If this not possible, then just say so and I will be on my way."
Paul Byron answered. “I'm sorry, but it is our law that no strangers be allowed into our city. Ewar has shown great temerity in bringing you here without first contacting us. As for being on your way, until we clear this matter up you will not be allowed to leave. My apologies, but we cannot jeopardize the security of the city."
Jeena smiled. “Apology accepted. But we'll leave when we're damned good and ready. Like now."
Before the armed man could move she spun around, kicking him in the chest and sending him sprawling on his back in the snow. The pistol materialized in her hand, and she grabbed the second man, twisting his arm in a hold and pointing the gun to his head.
David Proverst leapt up, the carbine pointed in her direction.
"Don't do it!” she screamed. “Not unless you're willing to shoot through your own man."
Ewar began yelling at the armed man. As they exchanged words, the Intawa gathered around, their hands slipping stealthily into their coats.
Jeena scanned the area quickly, looking for an escape. Damn! This was just what I most feared. I'm a stranger in a hostile environment with no clue as to my enemy's strength. For all I know the mists could be crawling with troops. And they're armed! How in Rigel's rings did they get projectile weapons?
She knew without looking that Samson's fangs and claws had projected.
If we make a run for it now we could probably get back to the village, but that will mean killing these two.
The armed man's gaze darted from Ewar to Jeena.
"Ewar says that you are from off-world. Is this true?"
Now! Her mind said. If she was going to do it, it had to be now when his guard was relaxed.
But she knew she couldn't. Whatever changes had happened to her since her capture and escape, they had been deep. Not long ago these men would have already been dead.
"Yes, I am Captain Jeena Garza of the Union Star Corps. My ship suffered a navigation failure, and I was forced to make an emergency landing on your planet."
The man in her grasp glanced sidelong at her, his expression startled.
"The Union?” asked David, obviously impressed as well. His resolve seemed to waver, and he licked his lips nervously. He appeared to be trying to come to some decision. “I need
to know more. At least tell me who sent you with this message."
Ewar brought me to these people. I have to trust them at least this far. If I don't, I'd better be prepared to kill them in cold blood.
"His name was Touloc, of the city of Uruk. He was trying to deliver the message himself but died before he could do so. He sent me in his stead."
"Touloc is dead?” cried David. She heard anguish in his voice.
The man in her grasp sagged as though the wind had been knocked from him.
"Give her the gun, David,” he said, his voice resigned.
"Don't be hasty, Paul,” he replied. “All we have is this woman's word."
Paul sighed. “Do you really believe the Rosh-dan would have made up a story like this, or sent a woman? No, David, I have no doubt she could have killed us both by now if that was her intention. Give her the gun."
Reluctantly, David clicked the safety on the carbine and tossed it at her feet. For a moment, no one moved
"All right,” he said. “So, what do you intend to do now?"
Jeena released Paul then shoved the handgun back into her coat. She picked up the rifle and tossed it back to a surprised David Proverst.
"Same as when I came here. Deliver a message to Mordachi."
Ewar, who had watched the whole encounter with tense interest, now relaxed. He and his hunters slipped their knives back under their parkas unseen.
"All good now?” he asked.
David turned the carbine slowly in his hands.
"Yes, Ewar, all good. Just a little misunderstanding."
Ewar pointed to Jeena. “She clanswoman of tribe. She semata. You see?"
"Semata?” David asked in surprise. “I'm sorry. I didn't know. Do not worry, Ewar, she will come to no harm, I promise."
Ewar seemed satisfied and said his farewells to the two men. Turning to Samson and Jeena he wished them well, asking them to return to the j'led whenever they wished. Then, mounting his kytar, he led his men away into the mists. They could hear his laughter long after he had disappeared, apparently feeling the joke on the Mountain People had gone well, indeed.
"If you would care to remount, we can be on our way,” Paul said to Jeena. “I suppose we can find a place for you to tie up the tigra outside the city gates."