by Allynn Riggs
Renloret was startled at the calmness of her statement. “You cannot hear him?”
Ani slowed her pace. “Oh, I can feel him. I just can’t hear any specifics. He’s not sending me anything. It’s not like when I woke up from that artificial coma. I hope to never go through that again. Be at ease, Renloret. Kela is right here.” She touched her temple and smiled softly.
“I was verifying.”
“Thank you, but truly, I would tell you if I couldn’t feel him.”
They hopped the small creek and moved to the canyon’s opening. Renloret pulled her back as he surveyed the undisturbed view before them. “It is not possible for the land to have recovered so well in barely two moon-cycles, and where’s the ship?” Renloret asked. Had the military found and removed it? That would be trouble.
Ani corrected him. “It’s months here on Teramar, not moon-cycles. Remember? And you obviously forgot about the holo-cams too.” Shaking off his hand, she moved confidently forward, her body shimmering slightly as she passed through the holographic barrier. She waved Renloret to follow.
He chuckled at his forgetfulness, stepped through the visual barrier, and breathed easier when he realized that not too much had changed. The marshy pond edge remained intact, but just beyond the water he could see the first impact zone of the crash path. Almost centered between the canyon walls, a wide gouge of soil skipped through the meadow. In the middle of the second gouge, two of the star runner’s six tail engines jutted rudely amongst piles of soil and broken shrubs. A short distance beyond, the main body of the ship slept at an angle, its nose pointing at the rockslide on the other side of the snow-fed creek gurgling its path into the pond.
As they skirted the pond edge, a knee-high beast burst from the tall undergrowth at the tree line. The animal paused to glare at them, and with a deep chittering expletive of its own, waddled across the path to dive into the pond. The ripples became wedge-shaped as it swam to the mound of sticks and mud near the middle of the pond. Another of the creatures joined it atop their nest. Threatening squeaks, chits, and growls warned Ani and Renloret not to come any closer.
“Oh, he’s finally got a mate!” Ani bowed theatrically to the pair. “We will leave you to your family.” She pulled Renloret along the path. “What does your bio-teacher tell you?”
He’d already been accessing the information out of curiosity, so he recited it. “The musky dam weaver lives only in mountainous regions of Northern and mates for life around the age of four. It weaves dams and nest mounds from branches, leaves, and mud, all glued together with generous amounts of a saliva-like substance secreted from two glands on either side of its muzzle. It is from these glands that its distinctive musky odor emanates. This substance has been found to be useful as an adhesive, though the odor has a tendency to linger even after drying. A pair will raise three to five pups every two years. They can become nuisances, especially if they dam up the water sources for smaller villages or farmland. However, this trait is also useful in controlling erosion and runoff from burns. These dams serve as a form of natural flood prevention and filter the water that sifts through the intricate weave of the dams.”
Renloret paused at the end of his recitation, just as they reached the tail section of the splintered star runner. “Quite an ingenious creature, really.”
Mid-summer blooms jutted around the sharp edges of the craft softening the blackened ground with smatterings of green-blue foliage and splashes of red, purple, and yellow. Renloret ducked into the main cabin and just as quickly emerged. “No signals. Now to the stasis bags.”
Ani led the way to the rockfall where she’d covered the two stasis bags containing the bodies of Sharnel and Kiver, after pulling the injured and unconscious Renloret from the crash. Spring storm runoffs had given the temporary burial plots a more natural look. Kneeling, Renloret removed enough of the rocks to check the readouts on the palm-sized closure latches. Satisfied with the readings, he glanced at Ani. She was staring at the wreckage of the star runner, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, her tight voice belying the words. “I just don’t like the idea of a person being in such a confined space.”
“Ani, they’re not alive. They were dead before you put them in.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. It gives me dry heaves just thinking about them under those rocks, untended for months. Are their bodies still …”
“The stasis bags put them into a type of suspension. Tests have shown no deterioration even after thirty of your years. Really, Ani, they are fine.” Renloret replaced the rocks and sprinkled gravel and smaller bits of debris over them. “Didn’t your mother ever explain how they worked or what their purpose was?”
“No, she just said the bags could be used to protect a person’s body until they could be properly dealt with.” A drawn out sigh escaped. “I did what I had to. I couldn’t bring them back and I didn’t know who to take them to. You needed my attention. I did for them what I was taught to do, what I couldn’t do for my mother.” A tear fell and her voice wavered. “I couldn’t put her in one of those bags while she was still breathing. That’s what she wanted me to do … and I couldn’t. She said it would be all right. I didn’t believe her. I had a bag with me but I waited too long. Alarms on the machines started blaring, the doctors swarmed in, I was ushered out, and they closed the door. I watched her die from the other side of the glass. I let her die.”
Renloret heard the struggle to control her voice, but he didn’t interrupt. This was the first time she’d talked about her mother’s death.
“Afterwards, one of the doctors told me that her last words were, ‘My daughter can save them. Tell her he’s coming. She must go home.’” Tears fell unencumbered now. “I thought she meant Uncle Reslo, not you or my father. I didn’t understand. There wasn’t enough time. She never told me about Lrakira and her — our — people.” She choked on a sob. “I still don’t understand. I just saved an entire race of people and I couldn’t save my own mother!”
There was nothing he could say and nothing he could do but put his arms around her. She let him, and for that, he was grateful.
The sun gilded the tops of the trees iridescent blue-green as flitters began their eve songs. Through the cabin’s open door Renloret could hear Ani humming out on the porch. After a silent hike from the canyon to the cabin, they had stored the supplies and she’d taken one of the rocking chairs to the porch and planted herself within its comforting embrace. She’d been humming and rocking since. He understood her reaction to the consequences of the time bubble. He had no idea how Ani had already managed so much change since waking up on Lrakira. Her wild swings between calmness and anger were expected. That she had just saved an entire species but hadn’t been able to save her mother seemed to have finally nicked her façade.
Renloret wasn’t sure how long he’d held her as she cried, but she had cried long enough to make her voice ragged. When she had regained some control, she had pushed away from him and headed to the cabin without a word. That section of the trail was now littered with broken branches, kicked rocks, and even a few uprooted plants. He had followed at a safe distance, ready to defend her or whatever living thing she attacked. At least now she was making coherent sounds.
The whistlepot began its own song. Renloret made tea, carried the mugs out, and handed one to Ani before leaning back against the railing post.
Her expression was pensive as she toggled the tiny chain on the tea ball. Thankfully, she no longer seemed torn with grief. The redness had disappeared from her eyes, leaving them a deep, clear green. Closing those eyes, she tipped her head back and breathed slowly and deeply. Her lips curved slightly upward as her shoulders relaxed and the frown creases smoothed from her forehead.
He smiled. “Should I concoct an eve meal?” He sipped and the cinnamon spice brightened in his mouth. He savored the sweet sting as it warmed its way down his throat.
“Not yet.
Taryn’s on his way up with fresh produce. Should be here in about … seven chimes,” she replied, choosing the Lrakiran time term.
Renloret smiled in response. “I assume that means Kela was seen doing his rounds.”
Ani took a sip of the tea. “Melli, at the cemetery. She was laying flowers on Mother’s grave. Kela joined her.” A frown started to wrinkle her brow, but she shook her head as if dismissing the thought.
Renloret moved from the railing to the bench under the window. “I’m surprised he went that close to the village.”
Ani laughed. “I think he was checking on his girlfriend.”
It was Renloret’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Girlfriend?”
Giggling, she continued. “Yeah, I think it’s Mroz’s ovline herder, Leeshob. She’d be about three or four. Mroz started her last year.”
“Started her?”
“In herding competitions. She’s big enough to handle the adult ovlines, but I didn’t think she was old enough yet.”
“Oh,” Renloret said. He let the bio-teacher fill in the information gaps. The image showed a canine with a medium length double coat that ranged in color from black to a cinnamon brown. Its structure similar to Kela’s, but it had ears that hung down and a muzzle that was square instead of pointed. The breed was considered native to Northern and was most often used on large ranches to assist in the protection and control of herd animals. Renloret nodded his head knowingly.
Ani just smiled into her tea. “Oops, here he comes.”
“Kela or Taryn?”
“Kela.” Ani’s smile widened as the canine bounded from the trees to the porch, then she pursed her lips and set her mug on the porch rail. “He’s miffed that I figured it out and he’s hungry.” She rose from the rocker and followed Kela into the cabin.
Renloret remained on the bench, wishing he could hear their full banter. Unless Ani provided a line by line translation, no one would know they were telepathically linked, though ofttimes, Ani’s speech patterns and Kela’s actions hinted at it. Their telepathic connection was much smoother than that of the Stone Singers with their Stones. While the Singers often seemed to pause briefly and pull out of awareness of their surroundings with each communication, the communication between Ani and Kela flowed naturally.
Swallowing the last of his tea, Renloret contemplated the summer sun slipping behind the tree tips. Ani’s one-sided comments were muffled but carried a happy tone. She was obviously glad to be in her home environment. The pilot smiled. Though they were here for serious reasons, he was also comfortable and surprisingly relaxed.
A hopper zigzagged from the underbrush near the trailhead and disappeared round the corner of the cabin. Though Renloret was fairly confident of who was approaching, he set the mug on the bench and eased his boot blade out of the sheath, eyes on the trail. He counted six breaths with no other movement visible and adjusted the blade in his hand.
“No need for that, friend,” Taryn said as he stepped from the trees on the far left side of the clearing.
Renloret sheathed the blade and vaulted the porch railing. He met the sheriff halfway to clasp forearms, and then he gathered the sheriff in a firm, brief hug across the shoulders.
Taryn laughed. “Well, I’m glad to see you too. All is well on Lrakira?”
The pilot stepped back to look at his friend, retaining a light grip on the sheriff’s shoulders. Taryn’s blue eyes were bright with happiness, matching the smile on his face. “Mostly. The vaccine has not been proven yet, but the Stones tell us all will be well. We lost many but we will continue thanks to Ani and her blood.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a screech of delight as Ani emerged from the cabin, hurdled the stairs, and ran full force into Taryn. She enfolded herself around the sheriff.
Taryn answered with what looked like an equally crushing embrace. “I thought you had died, Ani. By all the hells of Teramar, I thought you had died.” His voice cracked at the end.
Covering his neck and cheeks with small kisses, she replied softly, “Without you, I would have. You sang for me.” She brought her lips to his briefly, looked up at him, then resettled her lips to his.
Standing to the side, Renloret was relegated to the role of mere observer. He noted that the kiss had been initiated by Ani. He also noted the surprise on Taryn’s face before he gave in and answered her kiss with equal passion. The kiss was long — uncomfortably long for Renloret. Pushing aside the jealously that threatened to turn to anger against Ani’s longtime friend, Renloret reminded himself that he had not yet divulged his feelings for her and had no claim on her heart. Even so, he turned away and stalked towards the cabin.
Kela met him at the top of the stairs with unblinking eyes and his tongue lopping over his teeth in a canine smile.
“Shut up,” Renloret muttered as he brushed past the canine.
Away from the reunion spectacle, Renloret took several deep breaths to regain his composure and focus before pulling out a third place setting for the table. They should share a reunion meal. Then there was much to discuss and plans to be made.
Ani kept her eyes on Renloret. The pilot had been unusually quiet while the three of them cobbled together the meal. Her own reaction to seeing Taryn alive had certainly been more than she had expected. Should she explain to both of them? No, it was best left alone. Taryn knew where her heart lay, and surely Renloret would respect her relief at seeing her best friend alive and well.
Renloret wiped a dribble of sauce from his chin and answered Taryn’s question about the travel to Lrakira with only Kela as a companion. “I learned much about Kela while traveling to Lrakira. It was illuminating.” He nodded toward the canine, who rolled onto his back in front of the fireplace, baring his stomach.
He kept me sane when I couldn’t feel or hear you. Kela’s comment touched Ani’s mind softly. It contained no recriminations, just fact. And he scratched my stomach whenever I asked! His telepathic laugh brought a smile to her lips. He rolled completely over, presenting his stomach to Ani.
It doesn’t take telepathy to understand that request. Ani pushed him away with her foot. “Grow up.”
Both men stopped mid-chew and looked from Ani to Kela, back to Ani, and then to each other. They shared grins and continued to eat. Ani growled at all of them and stuffed a huge bite into her mouth.
I’ve been thinking, Ani. Do you think a bio-teacher would work for me?
Kela kept his belly available.
She stopped chewing in shock. Why would you want to have a machine implanted after what I went through? Do you want to learn Lrakiran that much faster?
Kela cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows. I understand why you are resistant to getting the implantation. However, it is needed only until your mind has assimilated the knowledge. I believe it takes a minimal number of weeks. Then it can be removed and you retain what has been learned. And it might be helpful if one of us fully understood the Lrakiran language. Can you ask?
Ani stared at the canine. How have you researched that information?
I was present when the information from Renloret’s bio-teacher was patched into the language database so the Singers could have updated information. Renloret was kind enough to translate some of the discussion to Northern for me. The procedure did not appear to cause him any pain. I think you should consider it, Ani.
Not now for me, but I will ask for you. I promise I will think on it. Ani swallowed and shrugged her shoulders. He might be correct, but the thought of having another machine in her head disturbed her.
She put down the fork and looked at Renloret. “Kela wants to know if a bio-teacher could help him learn Lrakiran faster.”
“Bio-what?” Taryn asked.
“Bio-teacher,” Renloret corrected. “Hmm, an interesting thought. It works for the Slerdonians. It gave them the ability to speak telepathically with us in Lrakiran. It’s something to consider when we get back to Lrakira, and if it works, it might prove to our advantage to have
Kela understand Lrakiran more fully. Why don’t you explain what it is, Ani?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes at Kela, then leaned forward. “Okay, Taryn, they implant a device that provides instantaneous translations and supposed pronunciations. It’s a combination encyclopedia and dictionary, as well as translation device. But you have to practice using it or you can come up with the wrong word or usage of a word. The more you use it, the more accurate it is, depending on how accurate the original source is. And what’s fun is that some of the slang terms are currently at least twenty years out of date.”
She winked at Renloret. “And I’ve been told that it provides all the words but not the experience. Renloret even recited an entry on the musky dam weaver when we were at the canyon earlier this afternoon.” She forked the last of her meal into her mouth.
“Was it accurate?” Renloret seemed compelled to defend his Lrakiran technology.
She nodded at Renloret and then returned her attention to Taryn. “I also suspect that Renloret used it when I told him about Leeshob.”
Her last word brought Kela to his feet. What type of information? Kela asked.
“Mroz’s herder?” Taryn asked.
Ani nodded to Taryn, then looked at Kela. “I’m confident Renloret could tell you all you’ll want to know about the breed. And if given enough time, he could give a dissertation on herding trials with a list of champions accurate up to about twenty years back.”
“It is not the fault of the technology that the Stones twisted time,” Renloret interjected, sounding defensive again.
“And that’s why he didn’t know about my blade championships or that I was all grown by the time he got here,” Ani added. “Evidently, I was supposed to be only five.”
Taryn waved his hands to stop the banter. “Whoa, I know he thought he was rescuing a five-year-old and it turned out to be you, but what’s this about rocks twisting time? I need an explanation. Yes, I need lots of information.” He pulled out his notebook.
Renloret reached across the table and placed his hand over the notebook. “You cannot write this down. Someone may read it and that would place you in more danger than you already are.”