(I thought you said she was old enough to speak when Vaanye and Feriila took her on that trip, Neeva! What’s the matter with her? Is she retarded, do you think?)
(Probably neglected. They wouldn’t know how to care for one of us.)
Well! In all her childish fantasies about finally meeting her own people, she’d never imagined anything like this! Acorna blew out an indignant “Whuff!” through her nostrils and lifted her head proudly, forgetting the mud on her coveralls and all her doubts about being acceptable to these Linyaari.
“There is nothing the matter with me,” she said slowly and clearly, “except that I am afflicted with inconsiderate relatives. I used to imagine all sorts of things about the people of my race, but one thing I never thought of was that they would be rude. I am not retarded, and Calum and Gill and Rafik took better care of me than you can conceive, and I am proud to have been raised by them!”
Beside her, the young mother she’d befriended stirred uneasily.
“Whatcha talkin’ about?” she demanded. “They ain’t said nothing yet, ’cept that foreign gibblegabble, and I don’t think you understood that any more than I did!”
Acorna frowned, puzzled. It was true—she had not understood the only thing that had been spoken; and yet they had said those other things…hadn’t they?
(Oh, my dear ’Khornya! Have you never heard mind-speech before?)
(Of course she hasn’t, Neeva. Remember, barbarians raised her.)
(Don’t pay any attention to Thariinye, my dear. He is incurably rude…hardly linyarii!)
The untranslatable word carried, in mind-speech, all its connotations of “real-people-like-us,” “civilized,” “sapient,” and “ethical.”
Acorna started to speak, then deliberately closed her lips and thought at the others.
(Perhaps…I am not…linyarii…either. It is true…I was raised by these people…you call “barbarians”…AND I LOVE THEM!) she finished in a desperate unmodulated rush.
A woman standing behind the leader winced. (Do try and teach her not to SHOUT, Neeva.)
Then Neeva’s arms were about Acorna, and she touched horn to horn, and with that contact came a flood of emotion not translatable into any words: joy, and mourning for the parents Acorna could not remember, and absolute, unconditional welcome.
(You are both linyarii and Liinyar, and you are ours,) Neeva thought with absolute conviction. (I am Neeva of the Renyi-laaghe, visedhaanye ferilii of this expedition, and you are ’Khornya of the Renyilaaghe, my sister-child. Your parents were Feriila and Vaanye of the Renyilaaghe; you have Feriila’s eyes.) And Neeva’s clan memories surged into Acorna: a blue-green grassy world of rolling hills and bright streams. A tall man with eyes the deep silver of the shadowed grass, who smiled and tossed a laughing baby up in his arms; a sweet-faced woman whose silver eyes were the mirror of Acorna’s own; feast days of flowers and singing, little furry animals that chattered in the trees….)
“My dream!” exclaimed Acorna aloud.
Neeva drew back slightly, but still keeping both hands on Acorna’s shoulders. “Your…dream?” she asked in slightly nasal Basic.
It had been a treasured dream that sometimes came to Acorna in the drowsy moments between sleeping and waking, sometimes not for months at a time, sometimes two or three times in a single week. It was among her earliest memories, and it had been in her mind even before that, for Gill and Rafik had told her that as soon as she learned a few words of Basic she had occasionally wakened speaking of strangely colored skies and demanding angrily to know the name of an animal they had never heard of.
Haltingly, Acorna told Neeva of the fragments she retained from a dream that had always left her feeling safe and loved. “There was a garden where the grass was soft and almost blue, and someone held me up to see the singing-fuzzies in the trees….”
“No dream,” said Neeva, and the silver pupils of her eyes narrowed to vertical lines. “That was a garden in the clan-house of the Renyilaaghe. Your father Vaanye used to take you to see the thiliiri in the trees there; he said you sang like a thiilir instead of crying like an ordinary youngling. And Feriila and I would chat while Vaanye played with you…don’t you remember?”
Acorna shook her head, feeling her own pupils contract like Neeva’s.
“No matter, no matter.” Neeva rested her horn against Acorna’s for a brief moment of infinitely reassuring contact. “You are ours, our memories are your memories, you will share them all as we do.” Underneath the spoken words Acorna could hear a cry of grief and pity. (How could you survive so, all alone?)
(I was NOT alone,) she thought, and her own memories of Gill and Rafik and Calum flooded into Neeva’s mind.
(I see,) said Neeva in a much-altered tone. (We had not expected there could be a bonding….)
“Not a bonding, not like that,” Acorna said, since Neeva’s sense of bonding meant a physical, sensual tie. (They nurtured me, taking turns….) She touched horns again with her aunt and let loose a myriad of scenes from being bathed as a small child in a small sink to her sampling all the plants in the ’ponics, to understanding “no,” and then learning how to read and write, and how to do more important things like find rhenium where they didn’t know it would be, and understanding equations and how to place bets to win. And, most of all, protecting her from those who thought her deformed….
(Deformed?) And the others echoed the word, shocked. Especially the tallest, who stood slightly apart from the other two women. From that one, Acorna sensed masculinity and pride and something else. If that was what a grown Liinyar male looked like…well…Acorna forced her thoughts away from that area.
(Yes, deformed. They nearly took it off.)
(They nearly what?) All four Linyaari cringed, and the male actually put a quick hand up to his horn, as if protecting it from the very thought of such an action.
(So you see, I owe much to Gill, Rafik, and Calum. They never, ever left me alone.)
(Yes, my dear child, we will express our gratitude for their care of you in a substantial manner.) Neeva drew Acorna a little farther away from the clutch of settlers who were distinctly interested in what was going on.
“I ain’t heard ’im say much at all,” the young woman complained. “Just touchin’ them horns together like stags back on Shenjemi. And they ain’t neither of them stags.”
Neeva beckoned to Khaari to join them in a three-point touching so that Khaari’s personality could reduce the shock of what they had to impart to Acorna.
So it was that Acorna learned about the Khleevi and why her parents had needed to send her from their ship to prevent her capture. Both Linyaari cushioned her against the horrible scenes of torture that the Khleevi perpetrated on helpless Linyaari. Acorna pitied the poor victims and understood why her parents had wanted to spare her from it and give her that one slim chance to live.
(We are also here to warn this quadrant of the galaxy that the Khleevi are on their way here,) Khaari said, nuzzling Acorna with her horn to reduce the shock that did, indeed, shudder its way through Acorna.
She broke their hold, looking about in shock at the poor bedraggled settlers.
(Be easy, Acorna) Khaari said sharply. (You are broadcasting fear, and they will sense it. Melireenya, help us dampen this. Thaari, you, too. As I said, help is on its way. This Rafik has called upon an army….)
“Is that why Nadhari’s here?” Acorna managed to peek over at the short woman who was standing in a parade-rest position, not seeming to look at anything, but, if Acorna knew the woman, and she did, seeing everything. Only what could Nadhari do, trained and intrepid as she was, against people who frightened the tall, elegant Linyaari?
(Several come. These people will be safe. But you must be in the safest place,) Neeva said, sliding one hand around Acorna’s slim shoulders. (For we must not lose you again. Come, into our ship.)
“No. I promised that I would stay here until the Acadecki comes to take another load away from here. And these are not t
he only ones that must be protected,” Acorna said, backing away from her own people. “I can go nowhere until the entire planet is evacuated if the Khleevi things are coming this way.”
“We can take zum in our ship,” Neeva said, glancing over and doing a mental count of the heads she could see. “But not all.”
“All, or I don’t leave this planet.”
(It is obvious she is linyarii,) Thariinye said in a bored tone. (Only females will support a lost cause.)
(Be still with such foolish talk, Thaari. We must get her to safety. And I do not think we will have much time.)
(The armies are coming. We know that.)
(But when? And soon enough?)
“I don’t go without these people and as many others as we can find,” Acorna said, and suddenly Nadhari Kando was beside her.
“That’s telling them, Lady Lukia,” said the bodyguard in her gravelly voice.
Meanwhile, Rafik had reached the Haven, fully expecting to see Acorna awaiting him. The first ship he spotted in the huge hangar bay of the Starfarer ship was the Acadecki. He did not see the Linyaari ship. But his instrumentation had shown that the Linyaari ship had been far enough ahead of even his superfast Uhuru to have landed, collected Acorna, and been back before he could arrive. Calum was there, and Rafik charged angrily toward the one familiar face, only to stop and stand stock-still when he realized that the man next to Calum was familiar, too.
“Johnny Greene, what in the name of misbegotten imps, djinni, and Shaitans are you doing here?” But he thumped Johnny on the back with more enthusiasm, Calum thought, than he had ever displayed on being reunited with his old mining partners. “Is Acorna on the bridge? Where’s that fancy ship of the Linyaari? I know they made it to Rushima ahead of me.”
“We expect them at any moment, Rafik,” Calum said absently. He was absorbed in counting the other old friends who were even now disembarking from the Uhuru. Judit, Pal, Gill…
“Mercy?” he inquired hopefully.
“She felt it was her duty to stay with Mr. Li. He wasn’t looking so good—oh, nothing to worry about,” Rafik said. “We’ve been in touch with Maganos; he was in bed for a few days but he’s okay now, and anyway Uncle Hafiz is with him. Apparently he decided to raise the shield and”—he gestured helplessly—“it’s rather a lot to explain. Now where’s Acorna?”
“On Rushima.”
“You left her alone? On Rushima?” Rafik’s coffee brown face faded to a dingy gray.
Calum gave Rafik a dirty look. “I’m sure you would have arranged everything much better if you’d been the one to get kidnapped by Palomellese space pirates. Forgive me, all I managed to do was rescue us”—actually Markel should have gotten the credit for that, but Calum was past being reasonable—“help recapture the Haven, and work out the mathematics needed for Dr. Hoa to reverse the weather devastation on Rushima. She’s needed there now to help with relocating the settlers to high ground, and so am I. I just stopped to get a working party of kids off this ship.”
He had the slight satisfaction of seeing Rafik’s eyes widen.
“Like you said,” Calum added in an offhand tone, “it’s rather a lot to explain. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get on with the relocation. We have to have all these people on high ground or off the planet before Dr. Hoa can start….”
“Forget the high ground,” Rafik said in a strangled voice. “A different planet is exactly what we need for them. Maybe a whole different system.”
It was Calum’s turn to goggle. Quickly Rafik filled him in on the threatened invasion which had brought both the Uhuru and the Linyaari to Rushima.
The com unit on Johnny Greene’s belt squawked suddenly.
“Armed force approaching….”
“That’ll be the Red Bracelets,” Rafik said, and added, “I hope…”
On their way to the bridge he sketched the situation for Calum and Johnny, who relayed the information to the Haven’s young crew so that no further explanations were needed when they reached that area. Full-screen displays gave a view of nine approaching ships: a dreadnought, flanked by two battle cruisers and six destroyers, all of whom were capable of carrying light fighters within as the fleet now angled down to the same plane as the Haven’s position.
Rafik gave a sigh of relief. “Yes, they’re our people…so to speak. We’ve bought them for this engagement—that is, Delszaki and Uncle Hafiz together have.”
Calum’s eyes widened. “The entire Red Bracelet fleet? How are you—we—going to pay for that?”
“That’s all of your friend’s fleet?” the kid in charge of the displays snapped over his shoulder. “Then who’re these guys?”
The scene altered, and, although the screen’s magnification had not been changed, it was obvious that another triangle of nine ships—of a design Rafik had never seen before—was also closing fast on this same position.
“The Khleevi?” Calum asked.
“Must be,” Rafik said. “I got a—well, a picture in my head from Neeva, she’s Acorna’s mother’s sister….”
“Her aunt…”
“I think they’ve got a different kinship structure. She calls herself mother-sib to Acorna, and the feeling I get is that it’s more like a second mother than an aunt.”
“What the hell difference does that make with the design of the Khleevi ships?”
“None, but that’s them,” Rafik said, pointing. “And they’re still far away, because close-up, Melireenya says the smallest of them is twice the size of the Haven.”
Calum swore with great verve and imagination, impressing Markel.
“And Acorna’s on Rushima with those things coming after her? Why didn’t it occur to any of you great thinkers to mention this little invasion when you were sending that joyous let’s-reunite-the-family spurt-message?”
Calum’s scathing glance swept over Rafik and his companions. Gill turned red, Pal stared straight ahead, and Judit dropped her eyes.
“Rafik thought we shouldn’t risk starting a panic among the Rushimese,” Gill mumbled.
“It was your idea, actually,” Rafik said.
“Whatever! Anyway, we all know now; and what are we going to do to protect those people from what’s coming at them?”
“First step,” said Calum, “is to get Acorna and the Linyaari up here, find out what exactly they know about these Khleevi. These mind-pictures you’re talking about can’t be any substitute for a good discussion of strategy and tactics. And as soon as the Red Bracelets are within range, we need to get their head honcho in on the talks. You stay here and work on opening communications with the Kilumbembese, Johnny; I’ve got to collect Acorna.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Pal in a tone that brooked no argument.
When the Acadecki returned to settle in the extensive but shallow mud puddle that the Haven had created from a hectare of low-lying fields, Pal was first out of the hatch. He stopped in mid-stride, shocked by the appearance of the gaudy scarlet-and-gold ship that sat a short distance away, and even more shocked by the sight of the Linyaari envoys scattered through the crowd of Rushimese settlers. Actually it wasn’t that so much that bothered him; it was the fact that Acorna was neither with the four envoys nor alone. The tall, overbearing young male who’d been arrested by a security guard on Maganos was by her side, bending over her with an attentive expression that made Pal want to deck him. Behind them stood Nadhari Kando, apparently relaxed…until one noticed that she was lightly balanced on the balls of her feet, hands free, eyes constantly scanning the space around Acorna for possible threats.
“Look at that oversize…stallion,” Pal muttered to Calum in tones of disgust, as the other man joined him. “Making time with my girl while we’ve got an emergency on our hands!”
“I don’t think she’s your girl now, Pal,” Calum said sadly. “I don’t think she’s any of ours, now.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Save it for later,” Calum advised him. “For now, help me figur
e out how we’re going to get Acorna and the others up to the Haven without being mobbed by the Rushimese.”
Pal hadn’t served as Delszaki Li’s personal assistant for years without learning how to keep a poker face and, more important, how to spin a convincing lie on the spur of the moment. As he moved through the crowd, grinning and repeating his tale about a purely temporary glitch in the resettlement and the need to get help from these aliens in preparing adequate facilities for all the waiting settlers, Calum could almost believe it himself. Certainly none of the Rushimese questioned Pal’s story, though Calum thought he saw a quizzical look on the face of Joshua Flouse—a man who, as settlement leader, had undoubtedly had his own experience with making up plausible tales.
Even Pal, though, could not keep the whole group of settlers calm without the help of the Linyaari. That became evident as he began, like a good sheep dog, cutting out the aliens and neatly herding them out of the crowd and back to the Acadecki. He had to get them one at a time, and as each one left, ripples of unease stirred through the crowd, only settling when the remaining Linyaari spaced themselves out more evenly in the mass of humans.
Acorna was reluctant to come with Pal, but he explained that they needed information from the Linyaari, and that she, as the only person who could communicate with them telepathically and who was also familiar with Basic Interlingua, might be needed to make sure that they understood the Linyaari information about the Khleevi correctly. She and Thariinye were the last but one of the Linyaari to come aboard, followed by Nadhari Kando, who was taking quite seriously her orders to guard Acorna at all times; only Neeva remained with the Rushimese.
“She’s not coming,” Pal reported.
“Oh, yes, she is!” Calum started down the steps, prepared to bring the Linyaari Envoy Extraordinary to safety by force if necessary, but Acorna caught his arm. “Calum, one of us must remain here,” she said in an urgent undertone. “If I am truly needed to interpret—”
“You are,” Pal said in a firm tone that brooked no argument.
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