Even if his last few missions had gone a bit out of his control, he had never lost his native resourcefulness or the cocky ability to believe in himself that had once been his hallmark, especially back in the days when he’d been known as Grimalkin.
Thus far he had successfully introduced his companions to useful people (even if to date they had proved their usefulness only by providing him with fish). He had also caused less desirable beings to show their true colors by irritating them, so they would identify themselves as enemies. And naturally he had ingratiated himself with all potential allies.
It was really rather exhausting managing so many personnel. No wonder frequent naps were necessary to stay fresh and alert.
Supervising mealtimes was also essential. Because Khorii grazed in the ’ponics garden and Elviiz did not actually require organic nourishment, the poor kids were socially impaired when it came to breaking loaves and fishes with the others. Khiindi sought to ease this gap in social customs by making himself the Linyaari ambassador, allowing other students to pet him and offer him tidbits from their plates. That should encourage them to engage in conversation with Khorii and Elviiz about what a beautiful cat they had, and how friendly, intelligent, etc., etc.
It had come to Khiindi’s attention, however, that not all of the students admired him or spoke to him kindly. On one particular day, Khorii was having to search a bit harder than usual for edibles in the garden, and also was trying to think of a way to stimulate new growth. Khiindi, who had no interest in vegetables, got bored and scampered ahead of her up the hubbub and into the lunchroom where Hap, young Sesseli, and several other friends could be counted on to see that a fellow didn’t have to rely on the Condor’s crunchies for sustenance.
Nothing particularly tasty was being served, Khiindi found to his dismay. Beans again. And not all that many beans, at that. He thought that perhaps, in the absence of vermin and birds to offer to the communal pot, he should start bringing crunchies to the lunch-room and offer to share. All those beans also made for a very heady atmosphere throughout the school.
Of course, he did know one place where a tasty meal could still be had for the asking. With a flirt of his tail, which he allowed Sesseli to stroke as he graciously declined the bean she offered to him, he left the lunchroom and headed for the pool, where his friends swam with his intended meal.
So focused was he on this delicious goal that he was taken totally by surprise when a large hand reached down and grabbed him by the tail and held him aloft. “Gotcha, you mangy flea bag. You want to go in there, do you?”
Pain shot through Khiindi’s whole body. Everything from his tail to his whiskers was in agony. Spots of light swirled before his eyes. He snarled and twisted and did manage to sink claws into flesh a time or two, but the other hand brutally slapped him away. Sick and dizzy, he was carried like a dead rat into the poolroom, whereupon his captor began to swing him by the tail. Through his pain, Khiindi heard a girlish scream, then a wonderfully familiar voice say in an uncustomary tone of command, “Put the cat down and step away from him, Marl. Do not hurt the cat.”
“If it’s not the bionic boy!” Marl said, and instead of putting Khiindi gently down, he swung him out over the water and let go, so that Khiindi flew out to the deepest part. When he hit the water, he should have landed hard and possibly injured the parts Marl had not already broken, but instead something held him up and he drifted rather than smacked down to the surface of the pool.
Whereupon, just as he was getting soaked, Lealikilekua dived under him so that he landed on her round back, the water lapping his injuries. By the time she brought him to the edge and deposited him there, the scene had changed.
Out of eyes blurred with pain, Khiindi saw his assailant lying flat on his back on the deck, blood pouring from his nose and mouth and his arm sticking out at an odd angle. The big bully’s friends backed away while Elviiz, fists clad in steel attachments, swiveled 180 degrees on his right ankle, challenging any of them to take him on.
Khiindi felt as if his poor tail had been almost torn off. His back was on fire, and his hind legs would not obey him. He wanted to wash his wounds, but his neck would not move in the regular way, so he could not turn his head even to see if his tail was still attached to his hindquarters. He thought probably his back was broken.
Still, it was some comfort to see that his honor was being properly defended and that he was being avenged. Though he could have done without the screaming.
The little-girl scream that cried his name was loud, but Marl’s screaming in anger and pain that he’d been murdered was louder. Loudest of all was Shoshisha, bending over the vicious boy, just screaming because she’d never seen anything like that before.
The noise, so close to him, hurt Khiindi’s ears and he spat at them all, though the spit actually came out as drool dribbling from the side of his mouth.
Shoshisha was a twit. As for Marl, Khiindi thought for a moment that perhaps he was a shapeshifter who was really at least partly descended from the Khleevi, the horrible buglike race that had had no purpose except to waste, destroy, and eat the rest of the universe.
Lealikilekua, surface-diving for the less noisy depths of the pool, made sure to splash water high enough to soak Shoshisha.
That made Khiindi brighten up a little, as much as he could, under the circumstances.
Hap approached saying something soothing, and Khiindi hoped his friend would help him, but Hap seemed not to see him, intent instead on the embattled Elviiz. Khiindi could not hear what he was saying because of the screaming.
Khorii and four teachers ran into the bubble.
“Turn it off!” Shoshisha shrieked up at the teachers. “Make her turn that monster off before it kills someone.”
Time for an injection of perspective here. Khiindi mewed weakly and tried to drag himself forward, giving Shoshisha and Marl as wide a berth as possible. His back legs would not hold his weight and his tail dragged listlessly behind him. He cried and cried, trying to alert people to his presence there at their feet so they would not injure his poor tail again or squash him.
Finally, he saw Khorii’s beloved two-toed hooflike feet, impossibly far away. Once more he was lifted by invisible hands and carried to Khorii’s feet, his battered body gently deposited upon them. He felt small hands caress his head and heard a childish voice saying, “Poor Khiindi Kitty!”
He tried to answer with another plaintive mew but it died before it escaped his throat.
He saw no more of what was going on around him.
Instead, his past lives, none of them lived wholly in the form of a small cat, flashed before him. He had been many places, seen many things, traveled through many times, and sired many many offspring. In fact, what with the siring and the time travel, he was doubtlessly literally his own grandsire. His lives had always been so big, so grand, so full of activity and vitality, that it seemed impossible it took only one mean male—not even an adult at that—to do him in. It seemed incredible that when his people had decided he would assume the small cat form that they intended—that they would allow—him to be killed while in it, small and relatively defenseless. They hadn’t been that angry, had they? This was just a punishment, a temporary humiliation which, when he had proved how well he could look after Khorii, they would rescind and he would be allowed to shift shapes, forms, and sizes at will as he always had.
And yet, Khiindi knew that something was broken inside. He felt the breath huff out of himself in one last long sigh as his spirit saw the sun come out and pounced toward it, no longer hurting, ready to bask. He wouldn’t have been able to eat that fish anyway.
Khorii had just emerged from the ’ponics garden and was on her way to the cafeteria when she was almost bowled over by stampeding teachers, Calla Kaczmarek, Captain Bates, Steve Reemer, and Headmaster Phador Al y Cassidro himself.
Calla and Captain Bates grabbed her by either arm. “Come along, Khorii.”
“Why? What?” She couldn’t be in tr
ouble, could she? She had just been minding her own business, trying, in fact, to improve the moonbase food supply.
“Your droid has apparently malfunctioned and injured one of the students,” Phador Al y Cassidro told her.
“Elviiz? He didn’t! He wouldn’t. I don’t think he can!”
“Nevertheless, he apparently did,” Calla told her. “I first…realized he was an android…when I asked…who his people had been…and he told me his father…was a modified KEN unit…I remember from when…I was a child slave…before your mother…and Mr. Li freed us?…that the Piper…used KEN units…sometimes…to enforce his will…They were definitely able…to inflict harm on people…I know…from personal…experience.”
Calla’s speech came in short gasps because she was talking as she rushed to keep up with the much faster Captain Bates. As it was, her grasp on Khorii’s arm was so far behind Captain Bates’s grasp on Khorii’s other arm that Khorii felt torn between the two.
On the other side of the iris, the bubble was crowded with students and filled with screams, shrieks, oaths that had to do with excretion and mating, and, from the poopuus, splashing. Khorii was taller than most of the kids, however, and over their heads she saw Elviiz swinging from side to side, brandishing fists reinforced with steel. At his feet someone was moaning, shrieking, and swearing while Shoshisha, who was visible, screeched and ranted. Sesseli was emitting a high-pitched childish scream, and the poopuus were squealing agitatedly to one another in their own language.
Only Hap seemed calm. He spoke to Elviiz in a kind and reasonable voice. Shoshisha squealed suddenly as she was drenched, and something landed on the deck beside her. Khorii edged forward, stopping just behind Sesseli.
She started to speak to Elviiz, but Hap persuaded him to lower his fists first. The teachers closed in. Something wet plopped onto Khorii’s feet in all the confusion, but she couldn’t see her feet for Sesseli, who suddenly let out her own shrill squeal. “Poor Khiindi Kitty!” she cried, and started wailing again.
Khorii bent down and saw Khiindi. He was sopping wet and so limp and thin without his silvery fur bushing out that he seemed almost transparent. His back legs splayed out oddly and when she touched his tail his front end contracted in a spasm.
At least he was alive. She knelt to lift him, touching him with her horn as she did so. She couldn’t let the others see her healing him, but she couldn’t let him suffer needlessly either.
There was no time to explain or to argue. She lifted him, feeling through her arms that his pain had abated, and turned to leave the bubble, Sesseli, still crying, following, trying to give comforting strokes to the parts of Khiindi that dangled from Khorii’s arms.
“Khorii, where are you going?” Calla asked. “You are a healer like your mother, aren’t you? This young man is seriously injured.”
“Be back soon,” she said, her voice tight with anger.
Sesseli followed still, so, crooning to Khiindi with her face—and horn—against his wet fur, Khorii carried him (purring by then, but she didn’t mention that to Sesseli yet) to the ’ponics garden. Nodding to the first shoots of one of the plants whose growth she had been accelerating before she left the garden, she instructed Sesseli to pick it.
The little girl did so and brought it to her.
“Now, you put it on Khiindi while I hold him and we’ll see if he gets better,” she said, not giving the girl a chance to get a good look at Khiindi, who was wriggling around in her arms, until she put the leaves on him.
Whereupon she raised her face and horn from him and looked down into wide and relieved golden green eyes. “It took you long enough,” she could almost hear him say.
Now Sesseli’s squeals were of delight as she jumped up and down. “I healed him! I healed him! Is he all better now?”
Khorii nodded. “All better.”
“Now do we go back and heal that boy?”
“Ye-es,” Khorii said. “But Khiindi is just a little cat and it doesn’t take much to fix him. The boy is very large and it will take a lot more leaves to heal him. So let’s keep looking.”
Finally, they found the leaves, which she ground up using the hard soles of her hoofed feet, and mixed with water. Khiindi watched attentively throughout this procedure, fully recovered and ready to hunt and vanquish the bits of leaf that flicked out from under Khorii’s hoof.
Grinding the leaves gave her a chance to work off a little of the anger she was feeling toward Marl and Shoshisha. It was totally ka-Linyaari to be so angry she didn’t want to heal someone. Of course, she would heal him, but, she reasoned, when there was more than one person wounded, you had to decide who to do first. Khiindi’s injuries had been life-threatening, whereas Marl, from her observation, would mend without her help, though slower and more painfully.
They carried the makings of the poultice in a garden pot back to the pool bubble. Khiindi mewed plaintively before going through the iris, and Sesseli picked him up and held him, stroking his head.
Many of the other students had left, including Marl.
“It’s about time you came back, young lady,” Phador Al y Cassidro said. “Marl has been carried to the infirmary. He is in great pain. Your droid apparently doesn’t know his own strength. It makes him dangerous. He just attacked that poor boy for no reason.”
Captain Bates stepped in front of him and gave Khiindi’s ears a rub. “How is the little fellow? All better?”
Khiindi licked her fingers.
“Yes, thank you.”
“The poopuus tried to tell Calla what happened but they were so overwrought they had trouble with their Standard.”
“Didn’t Elviiz tell them?” she asked, looking around for her friend.
“He didn’t get the chance, I’m afraid. Or rather, he didn’t take the chance. When you left with Khiindi, before Hap could get him to tell his side of the story, he deactivated himself. Droids have progressed quite far since I was a girl but—can they feel shame?”
An excellent question, Khorii thought as she looked around the poolroom that still held residual tension from the violence that had just happened there.
Chapter 12
I think Maak programmed Elviiz to feel much of what I feel,” Khorii said. “And I’m still really really angry. Why would that horrible boy do such a thing to a poor defenseless little cat?”
“I don’t know,” Captain Bates said, shaking her head. “Maybe if you fix him up, he’ll tell you. Maybe,” she said, lifting her eyebrows, “if he won’t, you can read his mind. Although personally I wouldn’t want to go there.”
Khorii looked at her uneasily. Had she found out about the test papers before Khorii could confess to sending her answers to the whole class?
(Can you read me, Khorii? I’m a good friend of your grandfathers, you know. From things they’ve let slip, I’ve gathered that Linyaari are telepathic.)
(I read you, Captain. My telepathy has been dormant until recently, but I’m learning. Sorry about the exam papers. I’m like my mother. A really good sender.)
(At least you sent the right answers), Captain Bates replied philosophically.
“Where is Elviiz?” Khorii asked aloud.
“Phador was all for locking him in a maintenance closet, but I thought maybe it would be best if he were placed in the shuttle you arrived in until this matter is sorted out,” Calla Kaczmarek said.
“I’ll go there now,” Khorii said. “He can’t deactivate just because he defended Khiindi from that bad boy.”
“He didn’t just defend Khiindi, Khorii,” Calla said sternly. “He badly injured another student, however much the kid had it coming. With his strength, Elviiz could have prevented Marl from causing more harm to Khiindi without damaging him so badly. Apparently his emotional range includes anger…and that’s not something most people like to see in a being that is so much stronger, faster, and smarter than humans. For now, Elviiz is fine. If you want to help him, you should take your special poultice up to Marl and see if you can help
. We got the arm and jaw set, but it was pretty painful for him. I know what you’re thinking, but my guess is that this isn’t the first time that kid has had his bones deliberately broken. The way Marl is carrying on, it seems he knows from hard experience just exactly what a broken bone feels like, and how long it’ll take to heal. And he’s saying things about revenge—‘Just like last time,’ is how I believe he put it. He’s a wreck, and he’s furious. I’m not saying you have to forgive him. Just think about cutting into his plans to get even by helping out a little.”
It was all Khorii could do not to snort with derision at Calla’s suggestion. She didn’t want to go near Marl Fidd and didn’t want Khiindi near him either. And in her opinion, Elviiz should be congratulated, not made to feel ashamed for defending his family. It was not a diplomatic, pacifistic, or particularly Linyaari way to look at things, but it was how she felt at that moment. Maybe she was a throwback to the Ancestors. The original unicorn forebears of the Linyaari could be rather fierce, according to the old stories about them.
Khiindi, and by extension she and Elviiz, were the injured parties. Just because they were outsiders, and Khiindi was “just” a cat, and Elviiz was “just” a droid, while Marl Fidd was one of the students, the teachers seemed to be implying she should make up to him.
Full of indignation, she stalked toward the infirmary, Sesseli following behind with Khiindi still in her arms. When they neared the infirmary, with its medicinal and antiseptic smells, Khiindi leaped down and sprinted away as if he’d never had his tail so much as tugged. Khorii forgot being mad long enough to say to Sesseli, who looked as if she might start to cry, “It’s okay, honey,” she said to the child. “You don’t need to be here for this. If you could keep Khiindi out of trouble while I’m healing Marl, I’d appreciate it.”
[Acorna 08] - First Warning: Acorna's Children (with Elizabeth Ann Scarborough) Page 10