Acorna's Rebels

by Anne McCaffrey

  “You are very welcome,” Acorna said, and settled down to sleep while the suns rose outside, painting Temple and city with color and shadow.

  Ten

  She was dying. They were all dying in misery and squalor, dying of thirst and hunger, dying of exposure and contagion, poison and plague, and she knew it was their own fault.

  Dirty-faced children with crusty eyes and noses cried and clung to the legs of adults who could barely stand. The lake, the one her grandfather had called Crystal Lake, was now a turgid swamp.

  When first they arrived on this planet, her grandfather said, his great-grandfather had had very little. Some small technologies were sent with them when they emigrated, to make their lives in the new place easier. But this planet, though its resources were slender, especially where she lived, was not overpopulated, and could support the making of the small machines, as old Terra no longer could.

  She had been told about all this, but she could not remember her world other than it was now.

  And yet part of her was still Acorna, living inside the cracked and scaling skin of this other person, the one who lived beside the stinking lake.

  That part wondered where she was and why she was here.

  Then the ship landed, not near her and her people, but far away, down where the green-ness had been before it was cut into and cut out. She saw the ship in the sky and thought something like “Linyaari?” though it wasn’t quite that.

  Word came that strangers had landed—two of them, both seemingly human, like her dream-self. And yet there was something funny about them. One of them had a horn in the middle of his head and the other one kept turning into a cat.

  One day, without warning, the flitter arrived. Her people remembered flitters from their great-grandparents, though the word “shuttle” came to her instead, but none of the craft had worked on this world in over a hundred years.

  Two got out, one small, red-haired, and quick, one tall and white, with silvery hair and golden eyes that went straight to hers. Aari. He turned to his companion, who turned into a red-striped cat and then back to a man. The word “Grimalkin”—was that a name?—suddenly came into her head. Was this the companion who had taken Aari from her? But no, her dream people said that Aari was the Companion. The red cat/man was the Star Cat. Aari smiled into her dream face as if congratulating her on her understanding.

  She must have cried his name, because she heard paws thumping to the floor. But she could not awaken all the way. Aari continued to hold the gaze of her dream-self. With a meaningful flick of his eyes, as if to say, “Watch this,” he turned to the fouled lake and knelt beside it, dipping his horn. “And from his blessed horn came water and jewels.”

  As the dream faded, she wondered how that could be, since Aari’s horn was still so newly repaired and still so stunted that it would not really be capable of detoxifying such a lake. And what had happened to the cat/man? Grimalkin, wasn’t that its name? He was no longer there when Aari dipped his horn in the water. But that was how dreams were. They jumped around and were not logical.

  She tried to return to the dream and to Aari. Tried so hard. Wanted to see him again, wanted to feel his eyes on hers—he saw through the dream person, and knew her even in this dream.

  But instead, she dreamed next of cats that were sick, dying, crying, and of cats peering out at her with gold coin eyes shining in the darkness of the little holes near the roof of the Temple cattery. She bent to heal one cat with peculiar blue and green fur, but others clawed at her legs, mewing up at her. When she bent down, their eyes shone as if they were looking into a bright light, the pupils slitted.

  “Hsst!” another cat said and she opened her eyes to see a very real pair of cat eyes staring down into hers. RK stood on her chest, his nose pushed against her nose. A self-satisfied purr pumped in and out of him, and his claws prickled and sheathed, prickled and sheathed, against her collarbone.

  (Come now, Linyaari Healer. I tracked, I stalked, I did what I do. Now it’s your turn,) the cat told her.

  (What? You stalked something?) Acorna asked, a little puzzled and still bleary from her dream.

  (The murderer. Or the ssussspect. Or maybe another victim, sssince he is badly injured and needs your help.) RK’s mental voice had a very distinct feline accent when he was highly excited, as he was now. (Follow me. Nyow.) His fur was electric with his nervous energy, and she reached out to smooth his fur with a stroke of her hand, soothing him so that for one brief moment his tail stopped flagellating her chest.

  “Very well,” she said. He jumped to the floor as she rose. She hadn’t disrobed before lying down, partly because she was too tired and partly because she knew she could be awakened without warning. If that happened, she wished to be prepared.

  “Perhaps we should call the other cats to walk with us until we’re clear of the Temple,” she suggested. “You’ll be less conspicuous that way.”

  His whiskers twitched. (That again, eh?)

  He paused, flipping his tail from side to side and cocking his ear to listen. (It is safe enough. Come. The Temple cats say Kando and the other high and mighty are deep in council with each other trying to figure out what to do about the—heh-heh—catastrophes that have befallen them, including you.)

  “Me?” Acorna said. She was puzzled, but rose to follow RK. “But I was only trying to help.”

  (My entree is your “eeek!” and vice versa,) RK thought at her philosophically. (Cats like you. Cat servants like you. But not everybody.) He leaped up to one of the crossbars leading to a cat hole near the ceiling.

  “I can’t go up there,” she reminded him.

  (Bipeds can be so feeble.) The cat sighed. (I suppose you’ll have to leave the ordinary way. I’ll meet you across the street from the Temple. Look up.)

  Then he was gone. Acorna ran her fingers through her mane and stepped outside the room, where she was confronted by the Temple cats, sitting there patiently, as if waiting for her.

  “Are you coming, too?” she asked them. “This is going to be something of a parade then, isn’t it?”

  Well, Acorna thought, RK hadn’t said to come alone. Neither had he said to bring Becker or Nadhari, so perhaps she could assume that although their mission was confidential, it was not especially dangerous. She didn’t know if the Temple cats ever actually left the Temple or not, but as she walked away, they followed, so she supposed that they knew what was expected of them and could decide for themselves what they would do.

  They didn’t meet anyone within the Temple building, but then, her route took her only through the living quarters. She followed a path that bypassed the ceremonial chambers and opened directly onto the outer courtyard. Here people abounded, each going about their various tasks beneath the punishing suns, cooking, drawing water, building, making mud bricks, weaving, and preaching. Acorna did not look too closely into any of the activities. She tried to appear as though she was on a mission of some urgency and knew exactly where she was headed. She’d found in her past adventures that such an appearance could often take her far without causing comment. The impression she was trying to convey had the added attraction of being quite true in this case. She hoped none of the people in the Temple courtyard would look at her too closely. Drawing the scarf Miw-Sher had given her around her head to disguise her horn, she walked straight ahead, as nonchalantly as it was possible to walk when she was being trailed by four large and determined Temple cats.

  She was considering what to do if the guard standing at the gate tried to stop her when Miw-Sher bounded up, swooped precious Grimla into her arms, and fell into step beside her.

  “Ambassador, are you leaving us so early?” Miw-Sher asked.

  “I was just going to have a look around,” Acorna told the young acolyte, continuing to move toward the Temple gate. Her tone was cautious, not because of Miw-Sher but because of the other people in the courtyard. “I wish to learn all I can of your people and of the relationship between them and the sacred cats, as part of my
mission to my own people.”

  “Ah, yes,” Miw-Sher said. “Well, it so happens I had an errand in the town today myself. I can point out the sights to you as we go. With your permission, I will accompany you.”

  “How about them?” Acorna asked, indicating the three parading cats still marching along behind her. “Are they allowed out?”

  “Oh my, yes. They aren’t captives—or at least they never have been.” The last part of her sentence was mumbled unhappily, clearly recalling that all was not well in the Temple these days.

  “It is very good of you to go with me,” Acorna said. “And the sacred cats, too, of course, but really, I can do this on my own. I’m sure you have other duties.”

  “Halt,” the guard said. He was a short, pugnacious-looking fellow with bad teeth and worse breath.

  “It’s all right, Brother Meyim,” Miw-Sher said, “They’re with me.”

  “And who are you to have privileges, Miw-Sher?” the guard asked, spitting through the hole between two of his black teeth. “The Mulzar has sent word that none are to pass this gate without special permission. His permission.”

  Acorna wasn’t sure this person was going to be sensitive to mental suggestion, but she tried it anyway. She directed a very light push at his mind.

  He paused after the end of his last word and added, “Except the ambassador, of course. She has diplomatic immunity.” He stumbled over the last two words.

  To Acorna’s surprise, Miw-Sher looked stricken. “But I have to go, too.”

  Acorna relented, not so much because of Miw-Sher’s distress as out of curiosity to see what had caused this desperate desire to leave the Temple in her company. She nudged at the Temple guard’s brain again.

  The guard said, “And her staff, of course.”

  Sacred Pash growled. “And the sacred cats, it goes without saying,” the guard added quickly.

  Acorna added a suggestion that there was no reason why he should remember that their little party had left the confines of the Temple, should anyone inquire.

  Then she looked for RK.

  (Me. Ow.) RK’s voice resonated in her thoughts. (I’m up here, Acorna. Here. That’s right. The roof. Follow the leader. I see you’ve brought the Temple gang with you. Welcome, brothers and sisters. Perhaps you’d like to leap up here and I’ll show you how an investigation is properly conducted?)

  The Temple cats all leaped up to the roof. Acorna, not possessing the cats’ abilities, guided Miw-Sher so that she and the girl were hidden by the corner of the house, out of sight of the guard, so that he would not be reminded of that which he had been persuaded to forget. They followed the cats as best they could on the ground.

  RK hopped to the next rooftop, still pontificating, all puffed up in a particularly feline way. (You will notice, brothers and sisters and two-legged friends, that this rooftop where we discovered the object of our search is a mere two rooftops from the house where the alarm was originally raised.)

  (You mean the place where the monk was murdered?) Acorna asked.

  (Aha, but do we know that?) RK challenged in an insufferably superior tone. (Do we know in fact that our suspect was the actual murderer or, for that matter, that the late monk was a victim? Possibly they were cobelligerents and the monk got the worst end of someone’s claws?)

  “What is happening?” Miw-Sher asked. “Is the alien guardian cat speaking to you?”

  “Yes,” Acorna said, and summarized for her RK’s latest remarks.

  The two females walked along beside the buildings as the cats leaped rooftops. They tried hard not to stare upwards in case passersby might follow their gaze.

  Suddenly Miw-Sher ran ahead, then disappeared into the home where the woman had cried out and been answered by the guard during the night.

  “This way, Acorna,” she said.

  Temporarily abandoning the cats, Acorna ducked into the house and saw that Miw-Sher had set up the house ladder to the central roof hole. The girl was halfway up the ladder already and Acorna followed her, without questioning why the girl felt free to enter the home when the owners were absent. Once she was out in the open air again, however, Acorna saw that she and Miw-Sher were now exactly two rooftops away from where the cats were. The cats paid them no attention. The felines had gathered in a corner of the roof they occupied, under the sketchy protection of a makeshift shelter. But as Acorna prepared to leap across the first rooftop, RK stuck his head out and said to her, (Hurry. I don’t think he has much time.)

  (Distract Miw-Sher,) Acorna instructed RK.

  (What? Oh, sure. You don’t want her to know how you heal him with the old horn, eh? I can do that. Hey, girlie, pet the nice kitty. Here I am! Pick me up! Oh, I’m so afraid! Pet me, comfort me! Man, am I bummed by this hurt guy in the corner!) He was twisting himself around the girl’s ankles, clawing at her skirts, trying to jump onto her shoulder, but she ignored him with the skill of one long used to the ways of cats and managed to beat Acorna to the injured party.

  The being lay, much as RK’s mind picture had shown her, face up, with feet/paws and hand/paws shifting back and forth in form in time with the rhythms of his ragged, rapid breathing.

  “Uncle!” Miw-Sher cried before Acorna could touch the injured cat/man. “Oh, Uncle, what have you done?”

  Eleven

  Miw-Sher’s cheek rested on the injured priest Bulaybub’s chest. The cats crowded around her, so Acorna laid her horn first on his head, and then, pretending to listen to his heart, upon that. She gently shifted Miw-Sher aside to examine Bulaybub for wounds. She found one on his abdomen, a deep puncture. This she also healed, but the priest had lost a great deal of blood and had lain exposed to the elements for some time. Despite her efforts, he didn’t look good.

  “Will he live?” Miw-Sher asked.

  Bulaybub looked at her and rolled his eyes. Through his cracked lips and parched throat he said, “Get off me, child, and all you hot holy ones, too. The day is far too warm for your nearness to be comforting.” As he spoke, he turned completely human. His tail disappeared, his ears settled down behind his jawbone and shed their fur to become rounded and flesh-colored. His hands and feet lost their fur and claws and became dirty but bare, with broken toenails.

  Even the wild animal tang in the air vanished. The priest stank as a damaged, overheated, underwashed human stank. As he transformed, Miw-Sher draped his lower body with a scarf similar to the one she had given Acorna, to preserve his human modesty.

  The cats sat back.

  RK projected, (Well done, shipmate. He seems perfectly healthy now, though he’s lost what looks he had.)

  “Uncle, can you stand? We must get you indoors.”

  The priest rose awkwardly, clutching the scarf to his middle, so that it draped down his thighs and tangled between his knees. The Temple cats took up sentinel positions on each corner of the roof. Acorna could see that they were determined to warn their human companions should anyone approach them.

  Miw-Sher assisted her uncle to the ladder leading down into the house. The occupant, conveniently, was not at home, but had left the ladder to the roof in place.

  Bulaybub gave his niece a conspiratorial smile, though one that was somewhat white around the lips. “Being a mendicant monk has advantages,” he said. “If you beg door-to-door often enough, you soon find out what is behind each of the doors you beg at.”

  “Is that how you knew you could use the home of the woman who had gone to help her sick sister, the place where the guards found all that blood?” Acorna asked.

  “Yes, and it is how I know that the family who lives here went to help their country kinfolk slaughter their infected animals and will not return for some time.” He half fell down the ladder and heaved himself onto the seat against the wall beside the cold hearth. “Ahhhh.” He finished with a sigh as he leaned against the wall to rest.

  Once the humans were safely hidden inside the house, the Temple cats followed them—flowing down the crude ladder as easily as though it was
a grand staircase. They arranged themselves around the room to watch the show.

  “I do believe I’m feeling better,” Bulaybub said, sounding just a bit tired. “You are indeed the miraculous person we were told would come, Ambassador,” he said to Acorna after a moment.

  “Not so miraculous as all that,” Acorna said, wondering just who had told the priest she was coming, when she hadn’t known that herself until she was practically landing on the planet. She’d deal with that issue later, after she’d broached the far more urgent topic on her mind. “I have some small talents as a healer, but it appears that in this instance, I have been able to raise the dead. I understood from the Mulzar that your corpse was throttled, nearly decapitated, and eviscerated.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, obviously, the body they found was not mine. It seemed useful to let Edu and others believe it to be mine, at least for a time, however. Unfortunately, it required a great deal of rather nasty claw work postmortem to obliterate identifying characteristics.”

  “Are you going to tell me whose body it was, not to mention how he came to be postmortem?” Acorna asked.

  “Do you think that if I do so, I will confess how I came to be a murderer?” the priest asked with a hint of wry amusement.

  “That would be truly enlightening, Brother,” a voice said from the roof, immediately followed by the lithe form of Nadhari Kando, who slithered down the ladder, her gaze never leaving Bulaybub and Miw-Sher, her grip never loosening on the deadly dagger she carried. “And I, too, would love to hear your answer.”