by neetha Napew
Neither one of us said anything, but we were both thinking the same thing: All these power failures were way too convenient for mere coincidence.
“Prep for emergency landing.”
I went back to do what needed to be done in the passenger cabin. The ride into the lower atmosphere was bumpy, but Marel only giggled and bounced in her harness.
Garphawayn noticed my expression, and reached over to touch my hand with her membrane. “Your husband is a skilled pilot, is he not?”
“Yes, it’s just-“ I glanced down at the tiny blonde between us. “She’s the only kid I’ll ever have.”
“I envy you her.” She sat back. “I doubt I will have any now.”
The interior of the launch turned dark as Duncan shut down power to all unnecessary systems, to prevent flash fires. Finally the surface swelled up to fill the viewports, and we landed with a series of jolts and crashes beneath our feet.
Something crackled over our heads as we unstrapped ourselves and Marel.
“Take her for me,” I said as I ran to help Alunthri retrieve the cats and grab my medical pack. I glanced back to see Garphawayn bounce out, holding Marel firmly clasped in her three arms. “Are you okay?”
“I am fine.” The Chakacat looked out through the hull doors. “We are stranded here?”
“For a while. Let’s get out of here before something blows.”
Duncan secured the helm, then met us at the docking ramp. “Any injuries?”
“I don’t think so.” I hurried down to make sure of that, then took a deep breath of cool air and finally noticed our surroundings. If the sky had been green instead of bluish-white, we could have been back on K-2. “So far so good. Duncan?”
My husband had ducked under the launch, and reappeared a few seconds later. “Power conduits to the engines are fused.”
Alunthri straightened. “Can you signal the ship?”
He shook his head. “The transmitter is in the same shape. I’ll get the survival gear from the cabin.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
From the Repository
Maggie’s world was, in fact, a milder version of Kevarzangia Two, with thick forests interspersed with rolling plains. None of the native botanicals looked familiar, but none scanned as poisonous to us, so we set up a makeshift camp in a clearing a short distance from the launch. The temporary shelters would serve as our home away from home until the rescue team from the ship arrived.
“How long?”
“They won’t be able to activate our receiver, so they’ll assume the communications array has been damaged.” Reever gazed up at the sky, then back at our disabled launch. “Xonea will send a rescue team for us in two rotations.”
“With the negotiations between Taerca and Oenrall scheduled to begin, won’t he come after us any sooner?”
“Perhaps.”
“Mama?” Our daughter darted between us, and grabbed my leg. “Caw Uncwip come down see?”
“Not yet, honey. Daddy has to fix the transmitter.”
Garphawayn declared she was famished, and Alunthri called Marel over to help it prepare an impromptu picnic for all of us.
I led Reever off a short distance, and kept my voice low. “There’s nothing else we can do?”
“No.” He kept staring at the launch. “This was intentional.” At my blank look, he explained, “The power failures, the conduits fusing. And the transmitter. The only cause of that kind of damage is a massive energy surge.”
“I don’t remember an energy surge.”
“There wasn’t one. All systems were functioning at optimum levels from the time we left launch bay.”
I noticed some small eyes watching us from the ground cover and nodded in their direction. “Someone is interested in us.”
Reever took out a proximity device and swept the area. “Four of them, six kilos in weight, warm-blooded.” He knelt down and removed his wristcom, rolling it so that the sunlight flashed off the shiny surfaces. At the same time, he made a low, whirring sound.
Slowly, a diminutive creature crept out of the foliage, and approached, its attention fixed on the wristcom. Short brown fur covered its six-limbed body and long tail. The shape of its head reminded me a little of a cat, with the pointed ears and slanted eyes, but the body and mouth were completely alien in structure. Three more near-cats of similar sizes followed.
Once it sniffed Reever’s hand, it looked up at both of us and made an inquisitive, chittering sound.
So far Marel hadn’t noticed them, but she loved anything with fur. “Do you think they bite?”
“Let’s find out.” Reever carefully stroked a finger under the near-cat’s chin, and it made a high-pitched squeal and undulated with pleasure against his hand.
“Wook, Mama!” Marel toddled over, holding a pair of her own. They crawled up onto her shoulders, and licked her face while making more of the squealing, happy sounds. Alunthri followed, holding a couple more in its arms. “New kiddies!”
More near-cats emerged from the forest, until there were nearly a hundred in our camp. Jxinok’s only inhabitants proved too good-natured to resist, and we spent most of the afternoon watching them play with Marel, Alunthri, and each other. Garphawayn at first kept her distance, but their fur didn’t seem to aggravate her allergies, and the near-cats ended up crawling all over her, too.
“They appear to be very healthy,” I said after scanning the largest of the horde. “Stomach contents indicate they’re herbivores, and have at least six distinct gender variations. I’d love to know how they reproduce.”
“Perhaps they are like me,” Alunthri said, stroking one small near-kitten with its paw.
“Cherijo.” The female Omorr divested her lap of felines and rose on her foot. “Would you care to walk with me a short distance? I feel in need of some exercise.”
Alunthri agreed to keep an eye on Marel, so Garphawayn and I took a tour of the bushes around the clearing. She didn’t seem to notice the strange and beautiful varieties of flora, and only answered me absently when I commented on them.
“That’s pretty much it for my supply of small talk,” I said after a few minutes. “Is something on your mind?”
She plucked a flower and studied it intently. ‘This is rather like the tafar blossoms we grow on Omorr, but it is too red.” Without skipping a beat, she added, “I am not certain how to go about it, but I would like to renegotiate my position with Lord Mafruda.”
“Okay.” I knew as much about Omorr marriage contracts as I did the flowers. “How can I help?”
She stopped hopping. “I rather expected you to persuade me to return to Omorr. You have made your opinion of me only too plain.”
I spotted a couple of shiny pebbles and picked them up, Marel loved pretty rocks. “Squilyp is my best friend. I wasn’t sure you were good enough for him.”
“And now you do?”
I smiled. “When I first met Squilyp, he drove me nuts. He was so picky and snotty and thought he was a better doctor than I was. We spent more time arguing than we did consulting. I couldn’t stand him. And then I had to fight him.”
“He told me about forcing you to make the solicitation. He is not proud of what he did.”
“Neither am I. Still, it changed things. We apologized to each other, and started over. We learned to respect each other and became friends.” I glanced at her stiff expression. “Maybe you and I could do the same.”
“I have never had a Terran friend.” She tossed the flower away. “I have never had many friends at all.”
“So we’ll practice.”
She made a hmmmming sound. “That may work for friendship, but Squilyp is a different matter.”
“The relationships may be different, but the same theory works both ways.”
“You have an advantage that I do not. You share your calling with Squilyp, while I know nothing about medicine.”
“It doesn’t matter. Garphawayn, he’s a good man. Yes, he’s one of the best surgeons I’ve ever s
een. It was his skill that saved many lives, including my daughter’s. But that’s not all he is.” I met her dark gaze. “He wants to share his life with someone. He wants a child.”
Her rings clinked as her gildrells curled and uncurled. “I am well-acquainted with that feeling.”
I turned to her. ‘Then you’re going to have to fight, too. Fight for him. Don’t let him go.”
Her skin turned a faint purple. “He does not love me.”
“What have you done that would make him love you?”
She thought about that for a moment. “I see your point. Yet I fear it is already too late for me to begin negotiations again.”
“Let me tell you a story about me and my husband,” I said, as we headed back across the clearing.
When we arrived back in camp, Juliet and the kittens were yowling in their container.
“They wish to come out and play,” Alunthri said as it tried to soothe the Terran cats with some dried salmon bits. Juliet, who had never been one to refuse food, only kicked them back out through the screened panel.
The near-cats were curious about them, to the point of crawling all over the container, but that didn’t mean the two species would get along.
“We can’t let them out, I’m afraid. If they take off into the forest, we might never find them again.”
My big mistake was not explaining any of that to my daughter. A few minutes later, as Garphawayn and I were debating how to arrange the sleeping pallets, I heard Marel shout.
“Juweeyed!”
Through the opening in the shelter tent, I watched the former stray female dart through the camp, followed by her two kittens, and disappear into the forest. My daughter ran after them, calling for them to come back.
“Oh, hell, she let them out. Alunthri, help!” I ran after her.
Fallen branches snapped under my feet and leaves whipped my face as I ran through the forest. The Chakacat ran much faster than I did, so I wasn’t surprised to see it flash by a few moments later. Distantly, I heard Duncan and Garphawayn following me, but was too busy keeping my eyes on the small blond head bobbing through the foliage to pay attention to my back. Then I lost sight of her, and started yelling.
“Marel? Marel! Answer me! Marel!”
By the time I heard her little voice call back, I was deep in the forest. I found her sitting at the base of a tree, holding a panting Juliet in her arms.
“Mama, see?” She held up Jenner’s mate, making the two kittens sitting at her feet meow. “I caud her!”
I snatched the cat from her hands. “Don’t you ever run away from me like that again!”
I’d never yelled at Marel before, and she looked as if I’d slapped her. “Mama? You mad ad me?”
“Yes!” I took a breath. “No, no I was just scared.” Then, seeing how upset she was, I caved in. “I’m sorry I shouted at you, baby.”
She flung herself into my arms. At the same time, something hit me in the side of the neck and stung me. I slapped my hand up and came away with a small, green insect squashed over my palm. “Ugh. Let’s go back now, honey.”
Going back proved to be more of a challenge than I thought, as I hadn’t paid attention to landmarks or direction while I’d been chasing down my kid. After a few minutes of yelling for Alunthri and Reever and wandering around, I began to feel a strange, heavy lethargy creep over me.
I reached up and felt the small bite on my neck. It was starting to swell, which meant a reaction. My immune system would respond efficiently, but I might not be able to stay conscious in the interim.
“Marel, listen to me.” I turned her face toward me with my palm. “I’ve been stung by something, and it’s making me sick. We need to find a place to wait for Daddy, and you have to stay by me. Even if I fall asleep, okay?”
“Okay, Mama.” She curled her little hand in mine.
I looked for a relatively safe place, but the forest was thick and my legs weren’t working properly. I staggered over something bumpy and tripped, falling forward into some moss. Under the moss was something hard, cold and smooth, and I tried to roll away.
The ground seemed to open up, and I dropped down six inches. “Marel!”
My daughter leaned over the recess, her small face smiling. “Sleep now, Mama?”
I held up my arms, which felt like lead piping. “Come to me, baby. Take a nap with me.”
She climbed down and curled up at my side, one arm across my stomach. “Daddy come soon?”
“Soon...” I pulled her up on top of me, and wrapped my arms around her. Juliet and the kittens jumped down, and nestled around my legs.
I watched through bleary eyes as Marel fell asleep, all the while trying desperately to stay awake myself. Whatever poison was in me was having a direct effect on my brain, as I began to see a faint, hazy glow creeping up around us. I managed to turn my head, and saw a patch of stone through the moss, also glowing brightly.
Is it some kind of weapon?
Above us, something rustled. I blinked as dozens of the near-cats came to the edge of the recess, and sat down. They were no longer making the funny chittering sound, and seemed to be waiting for something.
Then the glow intensified, and something hurtled me, still clutching my sleeping daughter, into an abyss.
For a time I dreamed of nothing but darkness. Unfamiliar, weighted darkness that seemed to drain the energy out of my entire body, making me a part of it.
Am I dead? Did she lie to me? Is this death?
There was no tunnel of light, no voice to guide me. I fell deeper, growing weaker until I nearly lost all sense of myself. Then an incredible warmth enveloped me, like a heated blanket, and life seeped back into my limbs.
“You’re not dead, Joey. Wake up.”
For once, I almost happy to hear that voice. “Maggie?”
“Come on, baby. Up and at ‘em.” Hands lifted me, touched my face, shook me lightly.
I didn’t regain consciousness so much as I jerked back into it, feeling absolute panic. Light blinded me as I opened my eyes. “Marel!”
“She’s right here.”
As my vision adjusted to the light, I saw I was still holding my daughter’s sleeping body. “Thank God.” I rested my cheek against the top of her head, then looked around. “Maggie?”
“So this is the little demon.”
My former maternal influencer appeared in front of us, in the tailored gray-and-white uniform Joseph Grey Veil had made her wear while she cared for me. It only emphasized the brassy blaze of her red hair and hinted at the voluptuous curves underneath. Whenever we’d gone out in public, men had practically tripped over their tongues, watching her saunter around.
As she stepped forward and reached toward Marel, I stepped back. “Don’t.”
“Jesus Christ, Cherijo, I’m not going to hurt the little rug rat. Wow.” Maggie smiled down at my daughter. “She’s really cute. Much prettier than you were at this age. Must take after Dunkie.”
Everything was different than it had been before. I had no idea or even a sense of where we were. It was just me and Maggie and Marel, hanging in the midst of a glowing, soft white light.
This wasn’t like any of the subliminal, implanted memory-whatevers she’d sprung on me before. “Where are we? What is this?”
“You’re in the planetary repository.” My former companion lifted a hand, and beyond the glow I saw vague outlines of stone walls and huge machinery. “Give it a minute; it’s been quite a while since it started up.”
“Are we really here, or is this inside my head?”
“We’re really not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” She looked down at my daughter. “Which reminds me. Much as I would love to hear all your mom war stories, she’s got to go back for a little while.” She snapped her fingers, and my arms jerked as Marel vanished.
“No!” I whirled around, searching the now-solid stone chamber we stood in. I turned and lunged at Maggie. “What did you do to her?”
I hit an invisible wall
, and went down, hard. The weakness returned, and for several seconds I thought I’d passed out again.
“Joey, Joey.” Strong arms lifted me up on my feet and held me steady. “She’s perfectly safe. I’ve made sure of it. The repository requires a level of tolerance, and she needs to grow a bit more before she can visit her Grandma Maggie.”
Her voice was louder, stronger. I opened my eyes, and focused on her face. “All right. I’m here. I did what you wanted. Now tell me everything-what you want, why you got me involved, everything.”
“And make it snappy?” Maggie chuckled. “I will, baby. Just let me slip into something more comfortable first.”
She stepped away, leaving me to find my balance. The nearest wall was more than fifty yards away, and covered with intricate panels of alloy and crystal unlike any mechanism or device I’d ever seen. Some parts of the panel seemed to vibrate, operating at a blur, while others gave off varying degrees of the glow. There were no pictographs or alphabet to indicate the language of whoever had built it, but from the shape of some of the parts it would take a wide, dexterous hand to work them.
A hand with five articulated joints.
Maggie’s form changed, blurring from a the voluptuous Terran redhead to another being altogether. One with straight, dark hair streaming from a long, high skull with slits instead of ears. Bejeweled yellow ribbons hung in a diagonal fringe over her slanted, dark eyes. The companion’s uniform lengthened to a strange gown made up of knotted folds. The fabric glowed, then brightened to the same shade as the ribbons.
Unearthly serenity settled over her expression. “Does it disturb you to see this form?”
“I’m not crazy about the screaming-yellow outfit,” I said.
“As Maggie would say, this is the real deal, so get used to it.” The slim, elegant alien moved her hand an inch to the right, and the wall devices seemed to go into a frenzy. “Physical form has its limitations, but my kind have always been enchanted with its possibilities.”
“Who are your kind?”
“Language also has its restrictions. To phrase it at your level of understanding, we were, are, and will be the Jxin.”
“Congratulations.” I made a slow circle. “And this place? You called it a repository. Can you phrase that a little better for the dumb Terran?”