“Isn’t that rather selfish, when, merely by using a little ingenuity, you could save your parents?”
“Perhaps, but for that matter, couldn’t we use the machine to save Vhiliinyar from the Khleevi?” she countered.
He thought about it. “Well, no. There were so many of them, and they were very powerful. The intervention would require too much for a simple time-voyage by a few selected individuals to affect it. Once the Khleevi came, the doom of Vhiliinyar was inevitable. And, if you had not met the humans, you would not have discovered the plant sap that kills Khleevi. You would have to take very careful notes, and we would have to think it through. That is why we usually do not alter larger events in history. Grimalkin says everything must be carefully weighed and thought through first and that only Friends really have the capacity for such farsight and detachment.”
Rafik cleared his throat. “That settles it then. We carry through with this in the usual way. Time to face the music and tell old Hafiz what’s going on.”
This did not prove as difficult as they all feared. When they returned to MOO with the prisoners, Hafiz sent for them to come to his administrative offices.
In his own office, he sat ensconced in a huge chair upholstered in silks of peacock and flame. To Acorna’s surprise, he greeted them with a beneficent smile.
“Good work, my friends. You have captured the miscreants.”
“Yes, Uncle, but we did not recover the stones. Your former security chief used the young girl’s injury as a distraction and carried the stones to the Heloise’s shuttle. He got away.”
Hafiz fluttered his gem-encrusted fingers dismissively. “It does not matter. Justice will catch up with him quickly. And the stones are registered to us. Each of them now bears our trademark. No matter who sells them, it will be known at once that they are ours. Also, I have sent relays informing our clients of the theft. Customers willing to pay the great sums the stones should bring are few. They will report to our headquarters if anyone contacts them with our property. This they will do for love and respect of me and for the high esteem in which they hold House Harakamian. Also they do it because they are, deep down, very honest men, however tempted they may be by the prospect of obtaining the stones for a lower price.”
“Uncle,” Rafik said, shaking his head, “I never thought I would hear you say anything so naive.”
“I was not quite finished, son of my heart. As I was about to say, very deep down they are honest men with a strong sense of self-preservation. I thought to mention to them the curse that was upon these jewels.”
“Curse?” Acorna asked, and she and Becker exchanged looks.
“But, sir,” Aari said. “I was the one who created the originals of the stones in question. They were produced by a chemical reaction that occurred when I purified the lake. They were actually impurities that bonded together to form pure wholes. That is somewhat magical-sounding, I agree, but certainly there was never a curse on any of those stones…”
Hafiz lifted both eyebrows and said acerbically, “I did not say how old this curse was. It is, in fact, a recent curse, of my own invention. It will fall upon anyone stupid enough to try to cheat House Harakamian. These honest associates who hold our family enterprise in such high esteem understand its nature very well. Smythe-Wesson’s betrayal will not profit him. Rather, it shall bring about his ruin.”
“As it has been said, so let it be done,” Rafik said, bowing to his uncle.
The dancers listened raptly. Although they pretended to cower with fear, Acorna sensed it was as much an act as their dance had been. They were very glad that Smythe-Wesson, who had betrayed them as well as Hafiz, would find no reward from his deeds. They were also perfectly confident they could escape again anytime they wished. Acorna gathered from their thoughts that they had done so on many previous occasions.
Before anyone else could bring it up, Aziza, the leader of the troupe, began nuzzling the toes of Hafiz’s slippers with her face. “And what is to become of us, o’ mighty sultan of this world? We are but humble entertainers—the man told us that you had stolen the stones and we would return them to the rightful owners who would happily reward us with riches that would allow us to retire and even purchase husbands if we desired.”
“Now, that is a strange tale,” Hafiz said thoughtfully. “For, although you are each as beautiful as dawn, I did not think for one moment that any of you were stupid. Release my foot, woman, and rise.” He pumped his outstretched hands, palms upward, into the air so that his jowls quivered and the satin linings of his sleeves shimmered. “Up! Up! Up! All of you up, while I consider what is to be done with you. And uncover your faces, for we have all seen them, as well as a great deal more of you besides.”
At that moment there were scurrying steps outside the office. As the room’s occupants listened, the footsteps stopped for a moment, as though someone was recovering both breath and dignity before entering. Finally, the door opened and Karina glided in. “Oh, exalted husband, do pardon me! I had no idea you were entertaining guests! I so longed for your stimulating company that I chanced coming here hoping to distract you from your duties.”
Acorna lowered her head to hide a smile. If Karina had missed the return of the Heloise and the Condor, then she wasn’t paying her own information network enough baksheesh. Her informants would have told her that the crews of the two ships guarded the voluptuous dancers, now all demurely clad in black. Unless Acorna missed her guess, Karina wasn’t concerned with Hafiz’s abundant charms at this particular moment. No, Karina had arrived in time to protect her own interests and help dictate the fate of the prisoners.
Hafiz patted the divan beside him and gestured for Karina to come forward. “Now then, my love, we have these women criminals to deal with. Obviously, they are suited for only a limited sort of occupation. Will you not reconsider your argument against pleasure houses here on MOO so these houris may in some measure repay the debt incurred by their crimes against us?”
“Oh, Hafiz, you know I would never ever think to argue with you about the institutions you wish to establish here on this moon you have brought to blossom. You don’t think me a prude, surely, my darling?” she purred, snuggling up to him.
“Oh, no, beloved.” He shook his hand and regarded her with a mixture of awe and lust. “Not a prude by any means.”
“I only suggest that the children who work here and may grow up here—especially those from Maganos Moonbase, might be traumatized to see that their greatest benefactor allows such establishments. Jana and Kheti, for instance, escaped captivity in such places only through your intervention. I fear it would send conflicting messages to our young ones about our own values.”
He sighed. “Well, they were but innocent young ones, and these women are experienced criminals and courtesans.”
“Dancers, my darling, however criminal. And that one”—she pointed at Layla—“is a mere child herself. There is also the opinion of the Linyaari to consider. They are extremely pure and high-minded people.”
“That is so,” Hafiz said. “You are as always a pearl of wisdom, beloved. But what shall we do with them otherwise? Must I build a prison to hold them?”
“Oh, no, my darling, nothing so expensive! It is much more cost-effective to rehabilitate them, and that is what we will do!” Karina exclaimed. “The child shall go to school with the other young ones and learn whichever of the skills taught on this veritable university of a moon that appeal to her. I am sure the ladies are capable at least of menial tasks such as cleaning. They do owe dear Ms. Dmitri for the theft of her ship, not to mention the passage she freely gave them from the generosity of her spirit.”
“Oh, no,” Andina said. “I can’t trust them. My people are everywhere on MOO, including the most secure areas, and at times when other personnel are not around. I must know that their honesty is above reproach.”
“Then perhaps some of them are fine seamstresses?” Karina suggested. “I can always use a new gown or two, and Hafiz
’s robes are in constant need of repair and replacement.”
“Alas, kind mistress,” cried the troupe’s leader, “we can sew a coin back on or hand-sew a tear in a costume, but we have always ordered our costumes custom-made from a supplier in a distant realm. We know nothing of cloth manufacture or clothing construction, and the new technology for bonding cloth is likewise unfamiliar to any of us.”
“What a pity,” Karina said, pouting down at her current set of violet-and-lavender robes, which were probably at least a week or two old, and in Karina’s opinion, soon to be in need of replacement.
“However,” Aziza said, lifting her head and looking Hafiz in the eye, “you now have a vacancy for a security chief. Who better than an experienced criminal to find the weaknesses in your present precautions? By myself I could improve a thousandfold upon the performance of that pig-dog,” she spat twice on the ground, “who betrayed us all. My companions and I, in your service, would cleanse your security system of imperfections as surely as a river dampens each rock in its bed. We can immediately recognize those who practice our former criminal profession—”
“Oh, Hafiz, how wonderful!” Karina cried. “She said ‘former.’ She clearly already considers herself rehabilitated!”
“Yes, lady, even so,” the would-be security chief said with a bow of the complicated and dramatic sort that climaxed her dance performance. “For your kindness and mercy have touched my heart—all of our hearts. Have not these beautiful white unicorn people healed our greatest treasure, our Layla, even when we sought to steal their own treasure? We owe you our gratitude and our allegiance, great lord and lady. Besides,” she said, rubbing her first two fingers and thumb together, “the pig-dog said that the position pays very well.”
Hafiz laughed, and Karina, taking her cue from him, giggled behind her hand. “Are you sure you are not a distant relation of mine, woman of infamy?” Hafiz asked her.
When he had finished laughing, he said quite soberly, “I should not even consider your impertinent proposal. But, as it happens, I find myself wishing once more that my former security chief, also a woman, would return. Since she will not, sentimental fool that I am, I feel inclined to listen to your arguments, gullible though I may be. Besides, I have so little left to steal.” He took a deep breath and continued, his commanding tone lapsing into the voice he used to make a deal, “And therefore I say to you—yes, normally the job does pay well. But you owe us a great debt, and thus will receive only food, lodging, uniforms, and perhaps a small measure of pocket change to keep you from pilfering.”
“Uncle, should you really trust these women?” Rafik asked.
“I am not sure. I think we must ask for a more accurate assessment. What say you, daughter of my heart if not my loins?” he asked Acorna.
She knew at once what he was asking and scanned the thoughts of the women. To her surprise, the thoughts were indeed full of gratitude and relief. The only plots Acorna discovered centered on what each lady felt she might do to increase her own worth in Hafiz’s or Karina’s estimation. “As you have said, so let it be done, Uncle Hafiz,” she answered with a slight curtsy.
Hafiz turned to Rafik, “Even so,” he said with a sharp nod. “It shall be done.”
Five
Acorna, the crew of the Balakiire, Aari, and his family returned to Vhiliinyar. Before Aari’s arrival, Acorna, of all her people, had been the one most interested in the time device. Now Yiitir and Maarni, historian and folklorist respectively, as well as several Linyaari physicists, occupied the room containing the time device, while Aari explained its mechanism to them.
Acorna had hoped that Rafik’s prediction would prove true, and that she and Aari might come to care for each other again as they had before their separation. But, despite her hopes, it did not seem to be working out that way. Indeed, she found it far easier to talk to Laarye than she did to his brother. At least Laarye did not presume to tell her about her past feelings and thoughts based on a collection of recorded memories.
Laarye and she exchanged thoughts easily. He was very comforting to be around. He knew Aari—or, rather, this Aari, at least—better than anyone.
When she complained that this Aari seemed to feel that everything that had happened before he’d arrived to join them was some sort of light entertainment, amusing but meant to be taken with a grain of salt, Laarye replied, “It’s not just this situation, Khornya. It’s his way. He’s a good sort really, but he’s a bit—um—naazhoni, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t, actually,” she confessed. “That’s not a word with which I’m familiar.”
He tried several synonyms, and she understood at last that it meant something like the term “flighty” in Basic.
Flighty, hmmm? Acorna began to see how Aari and Laarye had ended up in the cave just before the Khleevi attack when all of the other Linyaari evacuated. And yet, when he was captured by the Khleevi, Aari had told them nothing that would help his enemies. Though desperately tormented, he said nothing to his captors about Laarye or about the location of the new Linyaari homeworld. And he had survived afterward and saved Becker and RK. Those were not “flighty” actions.
However, if Acorna was having more questions and reservations about her relationship with Aari, the reverse seemed to be true of him. The more he watched and listened to her, the more he worked beside her, the more time he spent with her, the more interested, then infatuated, he became with her. And Acorna supposed she ought to be glad that he was feeling that way, but she wasn’t. It felt to her as if responding to Aari Whole-Horn would somehow be disloyal to her own beloved Aari—the two felt that different to her.
They worked above ground now, smoothing out the waterways, making sure that they flowed one into the other in a pattern as similar as possible to the one remembered by the elder Linyaari.
Maati and Laarye worked alongside them, though a bit farther upstream.
Aari straightened his back and stretched. He was wearing a simple tunic, and the water flowed around his knees, plastering the feathery hairs to his calves. He shook his long silvery mane and combed it back with his fingers.
Acorna did the same.
Aari then puffed out his chest as he looked around at the countryside, well aware, Acorna thought, of how majestic he looked against the periwinkle waters and soft lavender sky, the blue waving grasses and the newly formed purple, snowcapped mountains defining the horizon. The pure white coloring of space-faring Linyaari was well suited for striking a contrast with the surface of the homeworld. Aari gleamed in the light.
“Every day Vhiliinyar looks less like a disaster area and more like a home,” Aari said with a satisfied sigh.
Acorna nodded. “The catseyes enhanced the particle beams so that even the localized surface terraforming we’ve done yields results almost as fast as if we had evacuated to terraform the whole planet at once.”
“That is good,” Aari said. “But I cannot understand why the regular process was bypassed.”
“It was because of you,” Acorna said. “You were missing—or at least, we didn’t know where you were. I was afraid you’d return to Vhiliinyar while it was at its most volatile. If you had returned with the planet’s surface in complete disarray, I was afraid you would be harmed. Or even lost forever. The council agreed that you had—” she broke off, looking at his perfect horn. “The council agreed,” she said.
“That I had suffered enough?” he asked.
“I didn’t say so, and it isn’t polite to pluck thoughts from people’s minds,” she reminded him stiffly.
“I didn’t need to. I could read your face. And when I returned and hadn’t suffered at all, everyone was disappointed in me. Now they’ve gone to all this extra trouble for nothing. It’s a good thing I created the cats-eyes when I purified the sacred lake, or I doubt you would ever have forgiven me for escaping the Khleevi in this timeline.”
Acorna sighed and sat on the bank dangling her hoofed feet in the water, which was almost bone-ch
illingly cold at this time of the day. A few fetal amphibians swam over her toes. The aagroni already had begun restocking the streams and rivers with life-forms salvaged from the homeworld before the Khleevi attack.
The eastern sky was bulging with bruised-looking indigo clouds. The regularly scheduled afternoon rains would begin soon, according to Dr. Hoa’s timetable. The scientist’s meteorological manipulations had helped Vhiliinyar bloom again, though the planet’s scars were still evident when you knew where to look. Unlike Aari’s scars. His perfect surface concealed so many scars that Acorna felt she hardly knew him anymore.
“That isn’t the problem,” she said, and felt his surprise. He had expected an instant guilty denial from her. “Or at least, not all of it.”
“Then what is it?” he asked, taking her hand and staring earnestly into her eyes. “You have been so distant, and that is not how my recorded memories of you indicate that you behave with me. You are a warm and wonderful female, Khornya, and I was so looking forward to being with you. I suppose I must be somehow unfamiliar to you as I am now, but I thought you would be pleased that I could come to you whole.”
“You were whole before—I mean, in your other shape. It was familiar to me, and your memories of me were not recorded. They were like mine, real memories of moments we shared and glances exchanged, jokes we both laughed at, pain we both felt—”
“And of our joining,” he said, turning her hand over in his to stroke her palm gently with his thumb. His voice was low and caressing. “Perhaps if we joined again, if you let me hold you, you would find me more familiar, and we could regain our closeness.”
She withdrew her hand from his, which made him flinch. With renewed patience, she touched his cheek with her fingertips. Mistaking her gesture for encouragement, he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed his hands across her back, allowed his horn to touch hers. She met his kiss halfway, explored it with him briefly, then withdrew, shaking her head and disentangling herself. “I’m sorry, Aari. Maybe it’s because of my human upbringing, but the feelings we shared have to come first, before we can join in that way. Rafik says that since we’ve fallen in love once, as we get to know each other, we will do so again. Our circumstances before, as your recording will tell you, involved danger and intense emotional experiences. Perhaps that intensity and the intimacy of our lives together on shipboard made it easier for us to care for each other so readily, though I confess, I shared similar experiences of danger with Thariinye, and they didn’t have the same effect on me. The point is, your memories of that time, of me, you carry only in your head, not in your heart, as you did before you time-traveled. And I can feel the difference.”
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