“I didn’t kill anyone,” Cullaene said. “I’ll answer anything you ask.”
They asked him careful, probing questions about his life before he had entered their colony, and he answered with equal care, being as truthful as he possibly could. He told them that the first colony he had been with landed on ground unsuitable for farming. The colonists tried hunting and even applied for a mining permit, but nothing worked. Eventually, most returned to Earth. He remained, traveling from family to family, working odd jobs while he tried to find a place to settle. As he spoke, he mentioned occasional details about himself, hoping that the sparse personal comments would prevent deeper probing. He told them about the Johansens whose daughter he had nearly married, the Cassels who taught him how to cultivate land, and the Slingers who nursed him back to health after a particularly debilitating illness. Cullaene told them every place he had ever been except the one place they were truly interested in—the woods that bordered the Fieldings’ farm.
He spoke in a gentle tone that Earthlings respected. And he watched Jared’s face because he knew that Jared, of any of them, would be the one to realize that Cullaene was not and never had been a colonist. Jared had lived on the planet for fifteen years. Once he had told Cullaene proudly that Lucy, though an orphan, was the first member of this colony born on the planet.
The trust in Jared’s eyes never wavered. Cullaene relaxed slightly. If Jared didn’t recognize him, no one would.
“They say that this is the way the natives commit murder,” Marlene said when Cullaene finished. “We’ve heard tales from other colonies of bodies—both human and Riiame—being found like this.”
Cullaene realized that she was still questioning him. “I never heard of this kind of murder before.”
She nodded. As if by an unseen cue, all three of them stood. Jared stood with them. “Do you think Riiame could be in the area?” he asked.
“It’s very likely,” Marlene said. “Since you live so close to the woods, you should probably take extra precautions.”
“Yes.” Jared glanced over at his well-stocked gun cabinet. “I plan to.”
The men nodded their approval and started out the door. Marlene turned to Cullaene. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she said. “We’ll let you know if we have any further questions.”
Cullaene stood to accompany them out, but Jared held him back. “Finish your coffee. We have plenty of time to get to the fields later.”
After they went out the door, Cullaene took his coffee and moved to his own seat. Lucy and her mother were still arguing upstairs. He took the opportunity to indulge himself in a quick scratch of his hands and arms. The heat had made the dryness worse.
He wondered if he had been convincing. The three looked as if they had already decided what happened. A murder. He shook his head.
A door slammed upstairs, and the argument grew progressively louder. Cullaene glanced out the window over the sterilizer. Jared was still talking with the three visitors. Cullaene hoped they’d leave soon. Then maybe he’d talk to Jared, explain as best he could why he could no longer stay.
“Where are you going?” Mrs. Fielding shouted. Panic touched the edge of her voice.
“Away from you!” Lucy sounded on the verge of tears. Cullaene could hear her stamp her way down the stairs. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. “No! You stay away from me! I need time to think!”
“You can’t have time to think! We’ve got to find out what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong!”
“Lucy—”
“You take another step and I swear I’ll leave!” Lucy backed her way into the kitchen, slammed the door, and leaned on it. Then she noticed Cullaene, and all the fight left her face.
“How long have you been here?” she whispered.
He poured his now-cold coffee into the recycler that they had set aside for him. “I won’t say anything to your father, if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t even know why you were fighting.”
There was no room left in the sterilizer, so he set the cup next to the tiny boiler that purified the ground water. Lucy slid a chair back, and it creaked as she sat in it. Cullaene took another glance out the window. Jared and his visitors seemed to be arguing.
What would he do if they decided he was guilty? He couldn’t disappear. They had a description of him that they would send to other colonies. He could search for the Abandoned Ones, but even if he found them, they might not take him in. He had lived with the colonists all his life. He looked human, and sometimes, he even felt human.
Something crashed behind him. Cullaene turned in time to see Lucy stumble over her chair as she backed away from the overturned coffee maker. Coffee ran down the wall, and the sterilizer hissed. He hurried to her side, moved the chair, and got her to a safer corner of the kitchen.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. “I didn’t grab it tight, I guess.”
“Why don’t you sit down. I’ll clean it up—” Cullaene stopped as Lucy’s tear landed on the back of his hand. The drop was heavy and lined with red. He watched it leave a pink trail as it rolled off his skin onto the floor. Slowly, he looked up into her frightened eyes. More blood-filled tears threatened. He wiped one from her eyelashes and rolled it around between his fingertips.
Suddenly, she tried to pull away from him, and he tightened his grip on her arm. He slid back the sleeve of her sweater. The flesh hung in folds around her elbow and wrist. He touched her wrist lightly and noted that the sweat from her pores was also rimmed in blood.
“How long?” he whispered. “How long has this been happening to you?”
The tears began to flow easily now. It looked as if she were bleeding from her eyes. “Yesterday morning.”
He shook his head. “It had to start sooner than that. You would have itched badly. Like a rash.”
“A week ago.”
He let her go. Poor girl. A week alone without anyone telling her anything. She would hurt by now. The pain and the weakness would be nearly intolerable.
“What is it?” Her voice was filled with fear.
Cullaene stared at her, then, as the full horror finally reached him. He had been prepared from birth for the Change, but Lucy thought she was human. And suddenly he looked out the window again at Jared. Jared, who had found the orphaned girl without even trying to discover anything about the type of life form he raised. Jared, who must have assumed that because the child looked human, she was human.
She was rubbing her wrist. The skin was already so loose that the pressure of his hand hadn’t left a mark on it.
“It’s normal,” he said. “It’s the Change. The first time—the first time can be painful, but I can help you through it.”
The instant he said the words, he regretted them. If he helped her, he’d have to stay. He was about to contradict himself when the kitchen door clicked shut.
Mrs. Fielding looked at the spilled coffee, then at the humped skin on Lucy’s arm. The older woman seemed frightened and vulnerable. She held out her hand to her daughter, but Lucy didn’t move. “She’s sick,” Mrs. Fielding said.
“Sick?” Cullaene permitted himself a small ironic smile. These people didn’t realize what they had done to Lucy. “How do you know? You’ve never experienced anything like this before, have you?”
Mrs. Fielding was flushed. “Have you?”
“Of course, I have. It’s perfectly normal development in an adult Riiame.”
“And you’d be able to help her?”
The hope in her voice mitigated some of his anger. He could probably trust Mrs. Fielding to keep his secret. She had no one else to turn to right now. “I was able to help myself.”
“You’re Riiame?” she whispered. Suddenly, the color drained from her face. “Oh, my God.”
Cullaene could feel a chill run through him. He’d made the wrong choice. Before he was able to stop her, she had pulled the porch door open.
“Jared!” she called. “Get in here right away! Colin—Colin says he’s a Riiame!”
Cullaene froze. She couldn’t be saying that. Not now. Not when her daughter was about to go through one of life’s most painful experiences unprepared. Lucy needed him right now. Her mother couldn’t help her, and neither could the other colonists. If they tried to stop the bleeding, it would kill her.
He had made his decision. He grabbed Lucy and swung her horizontally across his back, locking her body in position with his arms. She was kicking and pounding on his side. Mrs. Fielding started to scream. Cullaene let go of Lucy’s legs for a moment, grabbed the doorknob, and let himself out into the hallway. Lucy had her feet braced against the floor, forcing him to drag her. He continued to move swiftly toward the front door. When he reached it, he yanked it open and ran into the cold morning air.
Lucy had almost worked herself free. He shifted her slightly against his back and managed to capture her knees again. The skin had broken where he touched her. She would leave a trail of blood.
The girl was so frightened that she wasn’t even screaming. She hit him in the soft flesh of his side, then leaned over and bit him. The pain almost made him drop her. Suddenly, he spun around and tightened his grip on her.
“I’m trying to help you,” he said. “Now stop it.”
She stopped struggling and rested limply in his arms. Cullaene found himself hating the Fieldings. Didn’t they know there would be questions? Perhaps they could explain the Change as a disease, but what would happen when her friends began to shrivel with age and she remained as young and lovely as she was now? Who would explain that to her?
He ran on a weaving path through the trees. If Jared was thinking, he would know where Cullaene was taking Lucy. But all Cullaene needed was time. Lucy was so near the Change now that it wouldn’t take too long to help her through it. But if the others tried to stop it, no matter how good their intentions, they could kill or disfigure the girl.
Cullaene was sobbing air into his lungs. His chest burned. He hadn’t run like this in a long time, and Lucy’s extra weight was making the movements more difficult. As if the girl could read his thoughts, she began struggling again. She bent her knees and jammed them as hard as she could into his kidneys. He almost tripped, but managed to right himself just in time. The trees were beginning to thin up ahead, and he smelled the thick spice of the river. It would take the others a while to reach him. They couldn’t get the truck in here. They would have to come by foot. Maybe he’d have enough time to help Lucy and to get away.
Cullaene broke into the clearing. Lucy gasped as she saw the ridge. He had to bring her here. She needed the spicy water—and the height. He thought he could hear someone following him now, and he prayed he would have enough time. He had so much to tell her. She had to know about the pigmentation changes, and the possibilities of retaining some skin. But most of all, she had to do what he told her, or she’d be deformed until the next Change, another ten years away.
He bent in half and lugged her up the ridge. The slope of the land was slight enough so that he kept his balance, but great enough to slow him down. He could feel Lucy’s heart pounding against his back. The child thought he was going to kill her, and he didn’t know how he would overcome that.
When he reached the top of the ridge, he stood, panting, looking over the caramel-colored water. He didn’t dare release Lucy right away. They didn’t have much time, and he had to explain what was happening to her.
She had stopped struggling. She gripped him as if she were determined to drag him with her when he flung her into the river. In the distance, he could hear faint shouts.
“Lucy, I brought you up here for a reason,” he said. Her fingers dug deeper into his flesh. “You’re going through what my people call the Change. It’s normal. It—”
“I’m not one of your people,” she said. “Put me down!”
He stared across the sluggish river into the trees beyond. Even though he had just begun, he felt defeated. The girl had been human for thirteen years. He couldn’t alter that in fifteen minutes.
“No, you’re not.” He set her down, but kept a firm grasp of her wrists. Her sweater and skirt were covered with blood. “But you were born here. Have you ever seen this happen to anyone else?”
He grabbed a loose fold of skin and lifted it. There was a sucking release as the skin separated from the wall of blood. Lucy tried to pull away from him. He drew her closer. “Unfortunately, you believe you are human and so the first one to undergo this. I’m the only one who can help you. I’m a Riiame. This has happened to me.”
“You don’t look like a Riiame.”
He held back a sharp retort. There was so much that she didn’t know. Riiame were a shape-shifting people. Parents chose the form of their children at birth. His parents had had enough foresight to give him a human shape. Apparently, so had hers. But she had only seen the Abandoned Ones who retained the shape of the hunters that used to populate the planet’s forests.
A cry echoed through the woods. Lucy looked toward it, but Cullaene shook her to get her attention again. “I am Riiame,” he said. “Your father’s friends claimed to have found a body here. But that body they found wasn’t a body at all. It was my skin. I just went through the Change. I shed my skin just as you’re going to. And then I came out to find work in your father’s farm.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“Lucy, you’re bleeding through every pore in your body. Your skin is loose. You feel as if you’re floating inside yourself. You panicked when you saw your form outlined in blood on the sheets this morning, didn’t you? And your mother, she noticed it, too, didn’t she?”
Lucy nodded.
“You have got to trust me because in a few hours the blood will go away, the skin you’re wearing now will stick to the new skin beneath it, and you will be ugly and deformed. And in time, the old skin will start to rot. Do you want that to happen to you?”
A bloody tear made its way down Lucy’s cheek. “No,” she whispered.
“All right then.” Cullaene wouldn’t let himself feel relief. He could hear unnatural rustlings coming from the woods. “You’re going to have to leave your clothes here. Then go to the edge of the ridge, reach your arms over your head to stretch the skin as much as you can, and jump into the river. It’s safe, the river is very deep here. As soon as you can feel the cold water on every inch of your body, surface, go to shore, and wrap yourself in mud. That will prevent the itching from starting again.”
The fear on her face alarmed him. “You mean I have to strip?”
He bit back his frustration. They didn’t have time to work through human taboos. “Yes. Or the old skin won’t come off.”
Suddenly, he saw something flash in the woods below. It looked like the muzzle of a heat gun. Panic shot through him. Why was he risking his life to help this child? As soon as he emerged at the edge of the ridge, her father would kill him. Cullaene let go of Lucy’s wrists. Let her run if she wanted to. He was not going to let himself get killed. Not yet.
But to his surprise, Lucy didn’t run. She turned her back and slowly pulled her sweater over her head. Then she slid off the rest of her clothes and walked to the edge of the ridge. Cullaene knew she couldn’t feel the cold right now. Her skin was too far away from the nerve endings.
She reached the edge of the ridge, her toes gripping the rock as tightly as her fingers had gripped his arm, and then she turned to look back at him. “I can’t,” she whispered.
She was so close. Cullaene saw the blood working under the old skin, trying to separate all of it. “You have to,” he replied, keeping himself in shadow. “Jump.”
Lucy looked down at the river below her, and a shiver ran through her body. She shook her head.
“Do—?” Cullaene stopped himself. If he went into the open, they’d kill him. Then he stared at Lucy for a moment, and felt his resolve waver. “Do you want me to help you?”
He could see
the fear and helplessness mix on her face. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but she wanted to believe him. Suddenly, she set her jaw with determination. “Yes,” she said softly.
Cullaene’s hands went cold. “All right. I’m going to do this quickly. I’ll come up behind you and push you into the river. Point your toes and fall straight. The river is deep and it moves slow. You’ll be all right.”
Lucy nodded and looked straight ahead. The woods around them were unnaturally quiet. He hurried out of his cover and grabbed her waist, feeling the blood slide away from the pressure of his hands. He paused for a moment, knowing that Jared and his companions would not shoot while he held the girl.
“Point,” he said, then pushed.
He could feel the air rush through his fingers as Lucy fell. Suddenly, a white heat blast stabbed his side, and he tumbled after her, whirling and flipping in the icy air. He landed on his stomach in the thick, cold water, knocking the wind out of his body. Cullaene knew that he should stay under and swim away from the banks, but he needed to breathe. He clawed his way to the surface, convinced he would die before he reached it. The fight seemed to take forever, and suddenly he was there, bobbing on top of the river, gasping air into his empty lungs.
Lucy’s skin floated next to him, and he felt a moment of triumph before he saw Jared’s heat gun leveled at him from the bank.
“Get out,” the farmer said tightly. “Get out and tell me what you did with the rest of her before I lose my head altogether.”
Cullaene could still go under and swim for it, but what would be the use? He wouldn’t be able to change his pigmentation for another ten years or so, and if he managed to swim out of range of their heat guns, he would always be running.
With two long strokes, Cullaene swam to the bank and climbed out of the water. He shivered. It was cold, much too cold to be standing wet near the river. The spice aggravated his new skin’s dryness.
Marlene, gun in hand, stood next to Jared, and the two other men were coming out of the woods.
“Where’s the rest of her?” Jared asked. His arm was shaking. “On the ridge?”
The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Sixth Annual Collection Page 71