by Kacey Ezell
“Ah. And you move this ball with your foot?”
“Sometimes. Mostly though you just pass—throw it—or run with it through the other team to try and score.”
“Oh. So why is it called football, then, if you do not always use your feet?”
“No one knows. I think it was originally played with a rugby ball, which is almost the same shape. Rugby clubs are sometimes called football clubs. But really, only people in America call football ‘football.’ Everyone else calls it ‘American football,’ and reserves the term ‘football’ for a game we call ‘soccer.’ Soccer is played with a round ball that you kick. No hands, unless you’re the goal keeper.”
Death slow blinked and backed up off of his caresses for a moment.
“You Humans make no sense,” she said. “But your scratches are nice.”
Connor pointed his finger at his commander and laughed.
“She’s got you there, boss,” he said. Conason just shook his head and chuckled. Death dropped her jaw in an answering smile, and they seemed quite cheery when Susa emerged from the office that had become her sleeping quarters and work area. Death turned and ran to her, leaping up into her arms and nuzzling her head under the woman’s chin. Susa’s scent filled her nostrils. As always, she smelled of home.
“Good evening,” Susa said. “Mr. Connor, Mr. Conason, Little Dama. I’m glad to see you’re all so happy.”
“James was explaining about footballs,” Death said, rubbing her face against Susa’s collarbone. “There are quite a few of them, it seems.”
“There are,” Susa said, and turned her smile on Conason. “Are you a football fan, Mr. Conason?”
“I am,” he said, and returned Susa’s smile. Death didn’t think her molly noticed the faint reddening of Conason’s ears as he spoke. That had been happening a lot lately whenever Conason interacted with Susa. “I played a bit in school. Wasn’t good enough to go pro, though, so I took my VOWS.”
“Who is your team?” Susa asked.
“What? You like football?”
“I used to,” Susa said. “It’s been decades since I saw a game, of course, but I grew up a fan of the Texans. And, of course, I went to UT, so I rooted for the Longhorns in college ball.”
Conason’s ears got slightly redder. Death rumbled a bit to herself in amusement. She glanced over at Connor, but he was studiously looking down at his gear. A bit too studiously, and his lips curved in a small smile. Was ‘football’ part of some obscure Human courting ritual?
“The Texans still play here in Houston,” Conason said. “I could get tickets, if you wanted to go, sometime.”
“That’s a lovely thought,” Susa said smoothly, but Death noticed a definite cooling in her voice. “But it’s not possible right now. I couldn’t leave Death for that long, not so close to her birthing-time.”
“Of course,” Conason said. He kept any bit of disappointment out of his tone, but Death was certain he was feeling it anyway.
“In fact, Little Dama, we should take a look at your progress now,” Susa said, turning back toward her office.
“Why do you discourage him?” Death asked in her own language as she looked over Susa’s shoulder at Conason. He remained in his chair and lifted a hand in a wave, while Connor clapped him gently on the back. She slow blinked back at him and then turned to look at the composed lines of Susa’s face. “It’s obvious that he likes you. Don’t you like him? I confess, I don’t know exactly what passes for ‘sexually attractive’ in Human males, but he’s certainly intelligent and personable enough. Is he ugly?”
“Not at all,” Susa said, shutting the door of her office behind herself. “By Human standards, Conason is quite handsome. Our tastes vary, but most Human females appreciate symmetrical features in a male, as well as a defined musculature and strong bone structure as indicated by the jawline. Conason has all of those qualities.”
“So why are you not interested in sex with him? I can’t imagine you find his personality objectionable.”
“No, his personality is just fine. He’s an entirely likeable man, Death. It’s not him I object to, at all,” Susa said. She carried Death over to her worktable and let her hop down, then turned away to begin gathering the primitive diagnostic equipment she’d been able to source here on Earth.
“Then what is your objection?” Death asked, speaking gently. It was obvious that Susa didn’t want to talk about it, but it was equally obvious that something was amiss. She was Dama, she couldn’t take care of her clan if she didn’t know what was wrong with them. Susa let out a sigh and then turned around to meet Death’s eyes.
“Before Dama found me,” she said, “I was a Songo addict.”
“I know that,” Death said.
“Yes, you do. But I don’t think you realize some of the ramifications of that experience. Suffice it to say, Death, that what I did…and what I allowed others to do to me in pursuit of my next high has complicated sex for me. I like Conason a lot. And I know that he likes me. But for now, sex is…off the table.”
Death looked at Susa for a long moment and then slow blinked.
“I love you, Susa,” she said, because it seemed like the appropriate thing to say.
“And I love you, little Dama. So, let’s see how these kittens are coming along, shall we?”
* * * * *
Found
It was several days before Deluge was able to leave ‘Tlor. Once the credits were transferred to the Goka company, they pitched in and began working side by side with Gage’s Lumar to repair and refit the headquarters building. Deluge watched Gage curiously during this time, but he seemed to be handling the situation. If his jaw occasionally clenched, and he spoke in a slightly clipped manner, it was likely that only Deluge noticed anyway. No one else had enough experience with Humans to pick up on those cues.
“What will you do now?” Gage asked as the two of them stood on a loading dock, supervising the loading of supplies onto a shuttle bound for the station where Iora was docked.
“That depends on what Rurranach finds out,” Deluge said. “The Hunter who attacked me said that my whole clan was under interdict, which is something I’ve never heard of before. Interdict is reserved for the worst criminals of our race…but to my knowledge, it’s only ever been levied against individuals, never whole clans. Things are strange, and I must find my dama and sort it out.”
“And the Sidar will go with you?”
“Yes,” Deluge said, slow blinking even as he sighed. That had been an unlooked-for development. “Apparently, he feels an obligation to me, since I saved his life. He asked me for a sigil.”
“What does that mean, a sigil?”
“It’s the symbol of my clan,” Deluge said, reaching into a pouch to pull out the metal symbol he’d picked up from an artisan at the starport the evening prior. He held it up so it caught the light for a moment and then stowed it safely away. “It means he’s sworn to my family, to obey us and stay with us as a companion and servitor.”
“You mean he asked to become your slave?” Gage asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.
“Not exactly. Not as you know the word. It’s more like…” Deluge racked his brain, trying to remember what Susa had said about her role within the family. “Like a beloved and useful pet.”
“Oh. A pet. And that’s better than a slave how?”
“Judge me if you like, Gage. It was Rurranach’s choice.”
Gage harrumphed and followed it with a sigh.
“Well,” the Human said. “If the Proud Fist can ever be of service to you, Choking Deluge, simply call.”
“You have already been of great service to me,” Deluge said, turning to look up at the Human who stood beside him. “You fought to defend me and lost some of your Lumar in the process.”
“Not very many,” Gage said. “Uban was pleased.”
“Yes, but still. Some. I did not ask you to do that, and you were under no obligation or contract. So, it means a great deal to me. I owe y
ou a debt.”
“They were attacking us too, remember.”
“Because I was here,” Deluge said, reaching into his pouch once again. This time, he drew out a flat metal disc and handed it to Gage.
“What is this?” Gage asked.
“That is a token of my debt,” Deluge said. “Do not lose it, for they’re incredibly valuable. My pawprint there indicates I owe you a favor. A killing, perhaps, or a fortune in credits, or some other thing you might need. Keep it, and if you ever have need of me, simply get this to a member of the merchant guild who deals in recreational substances. It will get back to me or my clan, and we will do all that we can to get you what you need.”
“Del,” Gage breathed, unconsciously using Rurranach’s nickname. “This is a blank check…are you sure?”
“I have nothing else I can give you, my friend. I owe you a debt.”
“You’ve already given me a freaking mercenary company!” Gage said, waving a hand at the busily-working Lumar. Deluge dropped his jaw in a laugh and twitched his tail.
“That was a contracted exchange,” Deluge said. “I needed someone to take over the company, you needed a company to lead. Zero sum. No dice, as Humans say. Take the token, Gage. If you don’t use it, pass it to your heir. It might come in handy one day.”
“All right,” Gage said, closing his big fingers around the disc. “I will. Thank you.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Deluge said, and reached out with his head to rub against Gage’s calf.
“You…ah…you’re leaving this evening?” Gage asked. He appeared a bit nonplussed by Deluge’s expression of affection, which made Deluge slow blink a smile.
“Yes. As soon as the sun sets. I may not have a destination in mind yet, but I feel it would be good to get moving. There are bound to be others hunting me, and the longer I stay here, the less secure I am.”
“Plus,” Gage added, “it puts us in danger.”
“Yes, but you’re a fully-grown mercenary company. You can handle it.”
That caused the big Human to throw back his head and laugh so hard he couldn’t speak. He was still laughing when Rurranach approached from a side door. The Sidar moved with a slight hitch as his wounds continued to heal, but his progress improved daily.
“You found something?” Deluge asked, eagerness flooding his tone.
“I did, my…Del,” Rurranach said. For some reason or another, the Sidar had the stupid idea that being sigiled to Deluge’s clan meant that he should treat Deluge with a lot more formality. The Hunter was quick to point out the idiocy of that stance, given that they were essentially partners in this venture. He had told Rurranach in no uncertain terms to address him as a friend, except for the rare occasions when Deluge might give him a direct order. In which case, it was probably a matter of life or death, and no one should care about the niceties anyhow. Rurranach had let out his chittering laugh and conceded, but he was still working on being comfortable with their changed dynamic.
“Excellent,” Deluge said. “What?”
“Perhaps…aboard Iora? It might not be safe for Commander Gage and his Lumar if I speak too freely.”
“We’re just about done here anyway,” Gage said, his friendly tone indicating he took no offense at their need for privacy. “We can say goodbye here, and you two can hop a transport of your own to the shuttle station.”
“Excellent,” Deluge said again. “Goodbye, Gage. Good luck. Remember the token, if you need it.”
“Just like that, huh?” Gage asked, his mouth twisting in a grin. “Goodbye, Del, Rurranach. Take care of this crazy cat, Sidar. He’s liable to get himself killed, otherwise.”
“I will do my best,” Rurranach said, and reached out the tip of his wing to tap Gage’s outstretched hand. “Please give Uban our regards.”
“Will do. Be good.” With that, the Human merc commander turned back to overseeing his Lumar troops, leaving Deluge and Rurranach to their own devices.
“This way, Del,” Rurranach said, extending a wing to point toward the front of the building, where hordes of vehicles flowed in semi-orderly patterns to and fro across the cityscape of ‘Tlor.
“Still hard for you, is it?”
“What’s that?”
“Not calling me your lord or master or anything like that.”
“A bit. You are, you know. You saved my life. Therefore, it belongs to you.”
“Here,” Deluge said, stopping in his tracks and pulling out the metal sigil again. “Put this on around your neck and don’t take it off.”
“What…?”
“It’s my clan sigil. It means that you belong to Night Wind Clan. Not just me, the whole clan. You’re part of the family now, Rurranach. Not a slave…a pet.”
“Is that better?”
“Susa seemed to think it was.”
“Ah…your Human molly. She’s sigiled too, is she not?”
“She is. You should talk, after this is all over. I think you’ll like her.”
“I’m sure I will. Thank you,” the Sidar said, and fastened the chain around his thick neck. “Now, perhaps we should go?”
Deluge slow blinked and leapt to Rurranach’s shoulder. The Sidar seemed startled for a moment, but adjusted quickly and began moving purposefully toward the stream of vehicles. It was time to get back aboard the ship and get to the bottom of whatever was going on.
* * *
Rurranach refused to speak until they were safely aboard Iora and established in an orbit away from any docking stations.
“It seems,” the Sidar said, tapping the pad to bring up still images on the ship’s viewscreens, “that your dama was implicated in the death of Hrusha, the Depik Peacemaker.”
“That’s impossible,” Deluge said. “Dama would never do such a thing.”
“As you say,” Rurranach said. “But this is the GalNet feed that would indicate otherwise.”
A video feed flashed up on the view screen. The scene was an open area on what Deluge recognized as the major orbital shuttle station above Capitol. He saw Reow and another Hunter wearing a harness with a Peacemaker badge walk out of the shuttle dock and down a short corridor to enter an airlock that led to Reow’s large ship, the Sarru. Sarru pulsed her way back from the station’s docking arms, clearly visible through the external view cameras. A moment later, an explosion blossomed across the black, blotting out the stars and the view of Capitol below. Deluge watched, his chest tight, and wondered why his claws hurt.
He looked down and realized he’d buried them in the side of his couch.
“I am sorry,” Rurranach said gently. “I didn’t think. That must be difficult for you to watch. I know you were close to your dama.”
“Am close,” Deluge said quietly. “And she’s your dama too, now.”
“Del—”
“No,” he said flatly. “She is not dead.”
“That footage was screened by every program my banking house has. It’s authentic.”
“Maybe so, but Dama isn’t dead. And I can prove it.”
“What? How?”
The truth broke open in Deluge’s mind like the moon breaking over the horizon. His jaw dropped slowly open in a smile and he slow blinked as he turned to look at the Sidar seated beside him.
“Because,” Deluge said. “We’re in her ship.”
“Yes, but—”
“No, listen. I’m about to tell you one of those truths that would kill you, were you not mine and sigiled. We Hunters are linked to our ships, via our quintessence field.”
“Quintessence.”
“It is energy. Non-electromagnetic, non-baryonic energy. It is how we do many of the things that no one understands. Our nervous systems are redundant in their operation. Our neurons fire both baryonic signals and quintessential ones. It would take too long to explain further, but take me at my word. That is a secret that we Hunters will kill to protect.”
“Ah…I see…”
“You don’t,” Deluge said, laughter and delight
in his tone. As much as watching that footage had hurt him, realizing the truth of the matter buoyed him up ten times more. Clever, clever Dama! “But take it on faith for now, if you must. The point is, we are keyed in to our ships via our quintessence. Once keyed, our ships register our presence, our location. They can be used to track us down if necessary. Like her ghost in the machine.”
“What?” the Sidar asked, his tone confused. “Ghost? I thought you said she wasn’t dead.”
“Never mind,” Deluge said. “Obscure Human reference. The point is, the ship would register if she were dead. And according to this, she isn’t.”
He tapped his fingerpads against the control interface, and the navigation screen came up. On it, marked in bright green, was a direct course across the Void, angling in toward the center hub of the great spiraling arms of stars.
“What is that?”
“That, my friend, is an unflyable course.” Deluge scrolled the view along the green line, following it to a neighboring arm of the galaxy. “But it is the direct line to where my dama awaits. And it appears…yes. She’s not far from Capitol.”
* * *
They couldn’t follow the course that Iora set. Not directly. The little ship didn’t have its own hyperspace shunt—its tiny mass made using one impossibly costly—so they had to follow a far more indirect and slow route, facilitated by hitching rides on the great behemoth ships that regularly crossed the void.
Deluge didn’t mind. Truth be told, a meandering course suited him fine, as it made them harder to track. Someone had set that explosion on Sarru. Iora’s databanks confirmed that Sarru’s quintessential transponder signature was gone. The ship’s death had been very real, even if Reow’s was not. Deluge had no idea how this was possible, but he didn’t worry about it too much. He’d find Reow, and the mystery would solve itself.
Or not. It didn’t much matter to him. Finding Reow was all that mattered.
After enough transits that he’d lost count, Deluge and Rurranach finally arrived in the Capitol system. Much to their relief, the trail didn’t lead them in to the planet itself, but rather to a wide swath of debris orbiting the system’s primary.