The Sisterhood

Home > Other > The Sisterhood > Page 9
The Sisterhood Page 9

by Juanita Coulson


  “Oh, shut up! Go on, Martil. You know I’m too stupid to be able to finger you for a bombing attack, assuming Earth was advanced enough to contemplate such a thing.”

  Martil’s grin was radiant. “You are not stupid,” he reassured her. “Far from it.” Then he went on, “The lead beam Tae and I rode to Niand.”

  “The same one I rode.”

  “Indeed. And without a Ka-Een to possess you. Incomprehensible! Now, somewhere in that red area, many light-years wide, is your home world, your Earth,” Martil said.

  Renee nodded. “I see. Backlash. If Niand and the Green Union that they’re fighting decide to drop the other shoe and use their super weapons, this — this Bender Principle you’re talking about — Earth gets caught in the fallout.”

  “I said you were not stupid.” There was a gloating tone to Martil’s comment. He glared at the out-of-synchs.

  “And the super weapon wipes us out,” Renee finished. “Us and everyone else in that red zone.”

  “On a scale beyond your imagining. Beyond mine,” Martil said grimly, “if I had not already witnessed such destruction elsewhere in the galaxy. That is why we have to —”

  “Martil!”

  Chayo was running toward them. One of the giant Siamese cats panted in his wake. The prince looked tremendously healthy and bright-eyed. He also looked totally freaked out. Driven wild by delusions. Renee had dealt with druggies wearing the same frenzied expression — not tracking at all, madly intent on getting revenge on someone, on strangling them with their bare hands.

  “You will not have them! They are my responsibility! I will protect them with my life!” Chayo roared, and he bowled into a couple of the out-of-synch people. A dozen others immediately jumped to their aid, trying to restrain the prince. However, Chayo hadn’t taken time to dress when he’d wakened in a frenzy, and unclothed skin made him slippery. He wriggled out of the aliens’ grasp easily. Kicking, flailing, and punching, he shouted, “Run! Run! Escape them!”

  More out-of-synch physician females were advancing on him purposefully. Martil held out an arm, halting them. “No. Let us try, first.”

  He didn’t bother asking Renee and Tae to help. They waded in with him, eager to assist. Renee once had a roommate who went berserk if anyone woke her too suddenly. Remembrance of those incidents warned her this wasn’t going to be a picnic.

  They had to shove aside a mass of aliens blocking the way. Renee wasn’t sure whether they would feel like caterpillars or some other ughish creatures, but contact was nicely solid. She muttered, “Excuse me,” and bulled on through.

  Chayo was in the middle of the tangle. He was still fighting unseen demons or enemies, screaming threats and an occasional mea culpa.

  “My fault! My fault! My responsibility! You will not have them! Never!”

  Tae got behind him and closed an arm across Chayo’s chest. Martil seized the prince’s calves and the two of them picked him up bodily. It was quite a struggle, especially for Martil, as Chayo continued to thrash wildly. Renee caught the Niandian’s hands and yelled, “Chayo! Chayo! Hey, it’s us! Come out of it!”

  Martil was yelling at him as well, with no results.

  “Should I slap him or something?” Renee wondered aloud.

  “And you were the one worried about broken bones if we moved him while he was unconscious.” Martil combined a friendly sneer with his grunting effort to control the prince’s murderous kicking. “No, don’t hit him. Not yet.”

  Tae managed to get one hand free and clapped it against Chayo’s skull, mashing flat the light, curly brown hair. Almost at once, the smaller man’s frenzy lessened. The glitter faded from his eyes. Tae knelt, easing the prince down to the floor. Renee and Martil cooperated, but they maintained their grip on Chayo’s hands and legs.

  “Martil?” Chayo whispered, blinking. “My Lady?” Renee felt him stiffen, the muscles in his wrists knotting as he exclaimed, “Where is Vunj, that motherless …!”

  “Chayo, you’re not where you think you are,” Martil said. He nodded to Tae. More information went through those big fingertips. Gradually, comprehension dawned on the prince’s regular features. He wrinkled his nose, looking chagrined, and Martil smiled. “All right now?”

  “I — I believe so.” They let him go, and he sat up slowly. With their help, he got to his feet and gazed around suspiciously at the out-of-synch people. One of the insect-eyed cats trotted toward them. It was towing a valet rack with its prehensile tail. Chayo’s reconstituted jumpsuit was draped over the rods.

  “Put it on,” Martil said in a big-brother tone. “Some of the cultures comprising the Arbiters have strong reservations about public nudity. You have offended them greatly.” As Chayo obeyed, Martil went on, “Do you remember our transfer from Niand at all?”

  The prince Velcroed shut his jumpsuit’s collar and cuffs. He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. That surprised Renee. Hadn’t the out-of-synch physicians repaired him fully? Martil had said the Niandian was fine. Well, maybe Chayo had thrown something out anew, during all that thrashing around moments ago. “I — I’m not sure that I do remember,” Chayo said. “There was a terrible pain in my head and my throat. And I remember being more afraid — and angry — than I had ever been in my life. I saw Vunj’s face, looming over me, larger and larger. And the three of you … dying. It was quite vivid.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t make it so vivid on the recap,” Renee said. “Nothing like that happened to me. In fact, I felt pretty calm, considering. I mean, the first time I went through one of these transfers.”

  “That’s intriguing,” Martil commented. “Chayo’s reaction was far more understandable. Save that generally there’s no reaction at all to an attempted transference when one is not possessed by a Ka-Een. In the few such cases on the Arbiters’ records, the transferees died of psychic shock.”

  “But it wasn’t non-Ka-Een transfer,” Renee said. “He was piggybacking with me.”

  Martil raised an eyebrow. “I told you that you were unique. If one is not possessed by a Ka-Een, any attempt at transference is in effect a non-essence transfer. Our previous experience made us think that was impossible. And Chayo most definitely was not possessed.”

  Renee was taken aback by the vehemence in Martil’s statement. Not surprising, in retrospect, that he’d been so wary of her at first. If instant death was the usual lot of hitchhikers on a Ka-Een essence-transference signal, no doubt it had astonished seasoned star-hoppers that she’d lived through it with no damage. Not only lived through it, but found it no more hectic than a bumpy bus ride.

  “Chayo, are you in control of yourself now?” Martil asked. “Good. Then, to orient you, you are on, well, let us say one of the Arbiters’ worlds. It was necessary to remove here in order to flee the bombing. You can thank Renamos that you’re alive.”

  “Truly, I do!” Chayo went down on his knees and took Renee’s hand, showering it with kisses. “My Lady, my life is forever in your debt, my soul is at your feet, my being yours to command.”

  With difficulty, she extracted her fingers and hid her hand behind her back lest he start the routine over again. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said.

  He stared up at her, stupefied. “But, wh-why, my Lady?”

  “Do you know why?” Martil’s expression was sly.

  Renee glowered at him. “Because it makes me uncomfortable. It’s — it’s too much.”

  “An excess of compliments, perhaps. Nevertheless, Chayo’s polite lies are appropriate, are they not?” The prince agreed instantly with Martil’s question. Martil went on, “He is grateful to you. His manner of expressing that, of course, is determined by his biological status. Among Niandians, males are the applicants, not the granters of favors. Surely you can see his position. Is it not the reverse of an arrangement you and your organization sought to overturn, Renee?”

  “Niand’s culture is a hell of a long way from equality,” she said with heat. “And I don’t want a reversal of dominat
ion; I want choice and balance. Even-steven. Common courtesy extended to all, without regard for whether they’re male or female. And extra respect dependent solely upon hard work and/or talents.”

  “Ah! Spoken like a true member of your Sisterhood.”

  “One of these days, I’m going to hit you, Martil. I’ll take that as part of my share of equality,” Renee retorted.

  “Shall I hit him for you, my Lady?” Chayo offered. She giggled and shook her head. “N-no, thank you. But please don’t gush over me, either.”

  Before he could reply, a musical tone resounded throughout the hassock-littered auditorium. The Many-Voices trembled with excitement, making them even more out of synch than normal. There was a whine and a pop and two additional figures stood among them. Both were tall and dressed in full, black robes. Their heads were huge shimmering blobs and seemed to be all eyes: immense, bright blue eyes, like Tae’s, in that glimpse of his inner self he’d permitted to Renee. The newcomers’ forms shifted visually, never quite still. It was impossible to make out any details. The image Renee could hang on to the longest was one of rangy bipeds with a few exposed patches of shiny greenish-gray fur. The major effect was that of watching upright, humanoid seals.

  Someone touched her arm lightly. Martil. Renee was proud she hadn’t jumped and had no urge to shrink away from the newcomers. Martil gave her a lopsided grin. “Very good!”

  “Okay,” Renee said. “Now tell me — who are they?”

  “The Arbiters from the Green Union. Our counterparts.”

  Renee studied the aliens. “Offhand, I would have said they were the Green Union, with that funny-looking fur of theirs.”

  Martil was busy keeping an eye on Chayo. The prince was watching the newcomers with undisguised loathing. Martil had a brief argument with some of the Many-Voices. Reluctantly, it seemed, they yielded to whatever he demanded. Tae put his fingers against Chayo’s head again. The Niandian tried to pull out of the intruding grasp. Tae didn’t let him.

  Martil held up a hand, requesting patience. “A moment. This will be of considerable importance to you, Prince. Ah!” A three-wheeled cart caromed through the crowd and came to a stop in front of the men. Atop the driverless little vehicle, a Ka-Een pendant lay nestled in a fluffy white cushion. Martil picked it up and held it out to Chayo. “This is tuned to your requirements. It will enable you to better comprehend what is about to happen.”

  “You didn’t go to that kind of trouble for my Ka-Een,” Renee grumbled, then added dubiously, “did you?”

  “We were desperate, then,” Martil said, very arch. “We had to take the only available Ka-Een willing to possess a peculiar alien female who didn’t really need a Ka-Een.”

  “Now look! If you —”

  “Shh!” Martil gestured emphatically at Chayo. Looking wary, the prince put on the pendant.

  “You’ll be one of the possessed, too,” Renee said.

  Herded by Tae and Martil, she and Chayo walked to a front-row hassock and sat down. Martil sat between the Niandian and Renee, and Tae sprawled on the floor at their feet. “Chayo,” Martil began, “I want you to listen. And think before you allow your emotions to respond.”

  The Many-Voice was babbling. Distracted by the noise, Prince Chayo glared, reserving most of his smothered rage for the two new arrivals in the middle of the room. However, he ducked his head in grudging agreement with Martil’s plea. “I will listen.”

  “Good! Those two who have just arrived here — one is genuinely of the Green Union species, though not of the Green Union; the other is humanoid, like you, me, and Renamos. She has been altered. Converted to match the Green Union somatotype.”

  “Converted,” Renee said, shocked. She conjured visions of Frankensteinian labs. “Permanently?”

  “Yes.” As she glanced at Tae, Martil continued, “Yes, Tae has been converted to humanoid form. I once considered making the change in his direction, but for various reasons that wasn’t feasible.”

  Tae craned his neck and grinned up at Renee. Her opinions were in a sudden jumble. All her assumptions thrown for a loop.

  How would it be, to give up one’s own body forever and take on the form of a total alien? Could she voluntarily accept becoming one of those green-furred seal people? Really?

  “But — but Tae showed me what he looked like.”

  “A form he no longer has.” Martil patted Tae’s shoulder affectionately. “It was a tremendous sacrifice. It is for any Arbiter who must choose so. Our work requires it, though. Renamos, Chayo, the Arbiters deal in concerns far greater than you can imagine. We maintain many such teams as Tae and myself. Teams composed of the dominant species of this quadrant of the galaxy.”

  “For other such wars as ours?” Chayo asked. He was getting interested in the situation despite his hatred of the Green Union representatives. There was even some sympathy in the look he directed toward Tae.

  “Only two such species need be mentioned here, in this particular war. It can be treated locally.”

  “Locally?” Renee’s tone was dazed.

  The Many-Voice was becoming louder, and Martil hurried with his explanations before the others drowned him out. “One of the new arrivals is a humanoid placed permanently in the body of a Haukiet: a member of the Green Union, as Chayo thinks of it.”

  “And now the real Haukiet and the converted Haukiet are back from their mission?” Renee speculated. “Did they have any better luck than we did?”

  “Let us learn.”

  New shapes appeared in the space between the wall-size war map and the cluster of hassocks. There was no whine or pop; they simply burst onto the scene. All of them were glistening, green-furred beings. They were moving and talking, oblivious to the mixed assortment of onlookers. A conference of some type was in progress. Green-furred mucky-mucks debating, questioning, listening to a couple of Haukiets in the middle of their confab. Two oddly familiar Haukiets. They were dressed a bit differently from the others, for one thing.

  Renee squinted, making comparisons. She wasn’t wrong. The two Haukiets in the confab were the same two aliens who’d popped out of nowhere minutes earlier. In fact, that pair was watching the scene — and themselves — along with everyone else here. Renee leaned toward Martil and whispered, “Holograms?”

  He grinned and rubbed noses with her. “I said you weren’t stupid. And your species’ technology must be more advanced than I realized if you spotted that detail so quickly. Now be quiet and listen.”

  Caught between a smile and a pout, Renee obeyed. And for a while, she was bored stiff.

  “Whereas … in consideration of the awesome duties of our noble leaders … rededication of the principles of … under these perilous conditions …”

  Politicians. A Haukiet version of a smoke-filled room. The Green Union’s top-level wheelers and dealers, discussing a crisis. If Renee’s Ka-Een was translating the exchange correctly, the basic patterns of an intelligent species’ high rankers didn’t vary overmuch, whether they were humanoids or shape-shifting green-furred bipedal seals.

  One of the figures — one of the holograms, to be precise-interrupted the officialese and said menacingly, “There has been more than sufficient time for argument. A decision must be made. You will observe.” The speaker reminded Renee of Martil laying down the law to Vunj.

  A miniature tableau winked into existence, enlarging until it blotted out the scene at the politicians’ confab. It even hid the duplicates of the Haukiet Arbiter team. A three-dimensional scan of appalling recent events. Slaughter and destruction, in the gory, hideous, stomach-turning process. The people shown being killed were Haukiets. Their enormous blue eyes gazed out appealingly at the audience. Aliens, yes, but …

  Males, military types and peaceful healers and protectors alike, mowed down. Females, some clutching their infants and kids, dying. Wave after wave of them, trapped, trying to flee, making pitiful cooing cries as they were murdered en masse.

  Renee moaned and buried her face in her hands
. Martil forced her to look up, and to keep on watching the “show.” She did, and wondered if Chayo was watching as well. Could this holographic newsreel cancel out the prejudices his civilization had drilled into him, perhaps since his childhood? He hated the entire race of Haukiet, saw them as the vicious enemies of the Niandians. Could he be reached by these visions of aliens suffering and dying, as his own people had suffered and died?

  The holographic scene blinked, and now it was Niandians dying. The same thing. Equally gut-wrenching. Overwhelming. And somehow it was impossible to persuade oneself that these were mere pictures. The images were too real, swarming into the brain. They bore an additional whammy, light-years beyond mere projections. The sensation was that of being sucked into the heart of these awful events, evoking an empathy one hadn’t known was there. It kept dinning at the onlookers, making them believe.

  This is real, Renee thought. This happened. Intelligent beings with hopes and fears and desires, just like me. They, with their dreams and pain-dying. In numbers beyond counting. Dying horribly. Each death new, fresh suffering, ripping me open, as they are being ripped open.

  It went on and on. Shattering.

  Renee fancied herself a sophisticated movie buff.

  Surely she would soon reach a saturation point, when these sickening sights no longer had the power to flatten her like this. She’d be able to watch these as mere visions and shut off the emotional impact.

  That moment never came.

  The torture continued. The scenes shifting ever more rapidly. Niandians dying in hideous ways. Then Haukiets dying. All dying. Guilty and innocent alike.

  And then, there were two images, dominating the rest. A faceless Niandian and an equally unidentifiable Haukiet. They were different, and yet the same, both the quintessence of “die-hard.” The kind who refused to back down, even though their acts would condemn billions of innocents as well as their enemies to death. The pair bent over powerful control devices, ignoring their associates’ frantic appeals to stop. The die-hards were doing something terrible, irrevocable …

 

‹ Prev