Uninvited

by Carol Buhler

  Giving up the hunt, I resumed my judgment duties, heading north to collect Kora. This trip, as she and I flew toward Beldon’s property, I noticed a mushrooming town along the river just south of Wofdon’s estate. Kora said he’d mentioned the town and we angled away from our flight plan to look.

  It was well laid out, paved streets running evenly north to south and east to west. The buildings were low and sturdy with steeply pitched roofs. Ah yes. It snows up here. I shivered at the thought.

  “Did Wofdon say what the humans are calling it?”

  Kora nodded. “Lorner. The elected mayor is named that.”

  “True to their naming convention, then. I’m surprised it isn’t Lornerberg, or Lornerville, or even Lornerborough.”

  She laughed and we headed away. Pausing several days at each of the northern holdings, we covered the route in a month, arriving at Jerdon’s on the coast by the end of Sepry. The days were turning colder and I was anxious to get home, totally satisfied Kora could handle anything that came up. She had done so for the last three stops.

  Jerdon took us to tour the new docks being built at Fredericksburg, at the combined mouths of the three biggest northern rivers. “We’re trading with Vuddon’s bunch,” he said. “They bring us atun, we send them shellfish.”

  “And we send hardwoods,” his son added as we watched the humans laying down planks along the skeletal outline of a pier. “They return with softwoods for our furniture.”

  “That, too.” Jerdon glanced at me. “That’s one good thing the humans brought us—trade. We’d not thought of wanting products from another part of our world before they came.”

  Sending my gaze over the huge city, I figured it was at least twice the size of Johnstown. “Was it worth it?”

  Jerdon and his son looked wryly at each other. “Maybe,” he said. “I have to admit, I enjoy the ease of working with that soft wood, and I like atun quite well. Totally different flavor from what we catch here. And these folks haven’t given us any trouble like you’ve had.”

  “Are you economically involved in this trade with the south?” I didn’t want him swindled like Vuddon had been.

  He shrugged. “Only minimally. We buy from humans using grain, leather, and hides. It works for us.”

  I said no more.

  Knowing of our return route to the west, Jerdon suggested we check on the new human city developing where the North River joined with the Sapphire River on Veldon’s land. “I’ve heard rumors that the humans have irritated old Veldon so much that he’s taken the entire family to live at Center—leaving his lowland to them.”

  His words startled me. I’d heard nothing of the sort. If any don family was willing to abandon their plains holdings to humans, that meant bad news for the rest of us. Word would spread—humans would become even more encroaching than they already were.

  “We’ll check and send the news back,” I told him.

  He grimaced. “Bad news if they’ve left.”

  “Yes.”

  We flew directly there to find Veldon’s estate deserted—no don, no reeth, grain fields unharvested, vegetable gardens completely overgrown. “They’ve been gone awhile,” Kora said.

  I nodded grimly and asked Aarnyon to contact Veldon’s mind-mate for news of the family. Within seconds, he said, “Cellion says his mind-mate feels too old to deal with the aggravation and none of his family wants to either. They’ll settle quietly in Center, farm their small holdings, and trade for what else they need.”

  Sighing, I remounted and we continued our journey west. Only two minutes of flight brought us in sight of the new, spread-out human city. Here, they’d left broad streets and all buildings were only one story, sprawling with gardens and patios around homes and paved areas with parked cars, ground cars, not air-cars, around what must have been businesses. At their rate of expansion, I thought it would only take a couple of years for Veldon’s estate to be absorbed and didn’t further question his decision to leave. “He’s never been a particularly strong leader,” I told Kora as we hovered, gazing in all directions at human dwellings and commercial buildings.

  “Let’s land, meet the mayor, and see if they want our judgment services,” she said with a wry grin.

  The mayor acted happy to greet us although I questioned his sincerity from the emotions he emitted. His name was Zron, so the town was Zronton. And, “No, but thank you. We’ve set up a judicial department and will deal with our own miscreants.” There was nothing particularly obnoxious about the man, but Kora and I both felt unwelcome, so we flew on toward our next stop.

  Two weeks later we arrived at the Rae family territory and received more disturbing news. The Gol family, traditionally located south and somewhat west of Raedon’s estate, had also abandoned their home and withdrawn to Center, due to another expanding human settlement—this one named Appleville. I was furious that no one had informed me of these decisions. Kora reminded me that, in the past, don families had always acted autonomously and Speakers had never thought to inform the Supreme Don of decisions regarding their own families.

  “Times have changed,” I fumed. “We need to keep everyone updated! Otherwise, I can’t manage the humans.”

  She stared at me with big, incredulous eyes. “Do you think they expect you to manage them?” A look of chagrin crossed her face. “I mean, do the don Speakers expect that of you? Do the humans?”

  For a moment I couldn’t think what to say. Then, “I expect that of me!”

  “Dad! It’s impossible. Neither don nor humans can be ‘managed.’ We just have to deal with each other as best as possible.”

  Humbled by my young daughter, I had to admit, She’s right.

  Instead of checking out Appleville, we headed south for our last stop and then home. I brooded the whole way, discussing with Aarnyon the fact that three families had abandoned their holdings and withdrawn to Center. By having him poll the reeth mated with family Speakers, we’d learned the Tel had also withdrawn to Center, leaving their property to a new city named Fell. And, another new city was developing in Hindon’s area, this one named Kavv. I arrived home sick with apprehension over all this new human development and families abandoning their land. Yes, I told myself. We all have property in the mountains, if not in Center Valley itself, at least close to it. But, to give up our plains holdings? What effect will that have in the long run?

  Sardon’s reeth-mate Paddyon sent pictures of the new southeastern cities and Taggert shared scenes from the old Johnstown, recently renamed Pith, and the old Vuddonville, recently renamed Bonn. No one explained the reason for the renamings, but I was appalled at how huge they’d grown.

  I also continually received warnings from Xagdon that if humans tried to develop something similar in his region, he’d adamantly resist their efforts. He didn’t clearly indicate what he meant. It didn’t sound good. I abandoned my judicial circuit—turning it over to my younger son, Kardon, and concentrated on meeting with the city mayors to feel out attitudes and expectancies.

  ~~

  Aarnyon and I were just leaving Kavv when he got the word from Raedon’s reeth-mate that Appleville had been attacked by a robber gang, two businesses had been cleaned out of human money and other valuables, and five people had been killed including Mayor Charles, who’d owned one of the affected companies. Appleville citizens were clamoring for don help in finding and punishing the assailants. I headed for home, spent the night, and joined Raedon in Appleville the next day. Xagdon was already there, leading the investigation. As with Samsville, the thieves had used air-cars and left no trace of where they’d disappeared to.

  A stubby woman with scowling black eyebrows, supposedly the acting Mayor, stormed at me as soon as I dismounted. “You have to do something—you with all your flying pets. Call everyone out—search everywhere. You can do so much more than we can with our air-cars!”

  I stepped back from her shouting voice, furious with her scathing demand of us and our “pets.” Fortunately, Xagdon was not within
hearing distance.

  “Madam,” I said coldly. “We and our pets have other duties to perform. We’ll do what we can.” Turning my back to her, I strode toward Xagdon to confer. Raedon, frowning, followed me.

  “Is she always like that?” I muttered.

  “Yes,” he said bluntly.

  Raedon contributed the services of ten mounted don, Xagdon another ten, and I called for help from my uncles, cousins, and brothers. Oredon, from just south of Appleville, added another ten. So, forty don-reeth pairs scoured the countryside for five days. We found no trace.

  I reported to the sour woman. She looked me up and down. “You’re pretty useless, then, aren’t you?” Without a word of thanks, she stomped away.

  Don’t’ ask for help again. I sent the thought after her—she, of course, didn’t receive it.

  Only a week later, the bandits hit Lorner. Again, we mustered a force of don-reeth and searched in vain.

  A new city was born as we searched for the robbers, very near to Joe territory on the river banks between my home and the Sapphire Sea. The Mayor was one Jules Gardiner—he named the place Julesburg. I watched, dismayed, as it rapidly spread, reaching fingers of streets lined with houses toward us.

  Over the next four years, we alternately pursued the bandit gang and commiserated with each other over the spreading cities taking over our plains. I couldn’t help but wonder—where did the gang get fuel for their air-cars? How did they keep the air-cars repaired? Occasionally, humans in the cities had managed to wound a robber or shoot a piece off an air-car. Every human went around armed and even Xagdon tread more lightly among them.

  Tempers were frayed. Then, what I felt was the final straw—making me almost willing to call all reeth to search—the robber gang attacked the don family of Fur down near what was these days the city of Bonn. Several family members were hurt: a bullet-wound in a shoulder, a stab-wound in a thigh, bruises and other injuries on many. The don had given as well as received and we knew some of the raiders were badly hurt.

  A human brought what he called a pack of bloodhounds from Bonn. Supposedly, they could follow blood trails. Not in air-cars, it turned out. The man assured us that if we found an air-car, his hounds could tell if the bandits had used it. A lot of help that is.

  We did the same as we had everywhere else—mounted teams searched for days to find no trace.

  Humans demanded I do something. Don demanded I do something. But even Xagdon had run out of ideas—other than to mount guards and patrols, which we did.

  Then, I learned I’d been wrong. The worst had not yet come. In the fall, fifty-one years after Sam’s arrival in the first ship, the expected supply ship didn’t come.

  To my shock, even sensible humans went crazy.

  Part V

  Dates: 850 through 880

  Location: Gareeth, eastern section of the continent

  18. Warnings

  It was three weeks after the supply ship failed to come when expected. Dr. Jeremy Tucker landed on our meadow in an air-car, surprising us with his visit. I introduced him to as many of my family members as were home—he didn’t seem the least overwhelmed. He wasn’t happy, either.

  Korola invited him to join us for lunch. He accepted but said he needed to talk with me first, so I led him into my study.

  “I came to warn you,” he said immediately, his voice serious, his mouth downturned, and his eyes shadowed with what I thought was unease. “The supply ship not arriving is going to cause serious problems.”

  “Why?” They can do without some of their precious gadgets from Earth.

  “Do you remember what I told you many years ago, when I first met you after the beating of Paul’s father?”

  I did, of course, but didn’t see the connection. “You said, ‘humans want to be better and have more than their neighbors.’”

  He nodded. “Close enough. If the ships aren’t going to come anymore—Joe Human of Fell isn’t going to get his own tractor, ever, he thinks. He’s been working very hard and saving up for his own and planned to buy one when the next ship came. He’s sick of borrowing Joe Human of Carn’s tractor every spring. That man’s snarky and always claims he got the tractor back broken. Sooner or later, Joe Human of Fell will try to take and keep for himself that tractor.”

  I didn’t follow. “Who’s Joe Human? I’ve never met anyone with that last name.”

  He chuckled. “He’s not real. We use the word Joe to refer to any average human male. So, Joe Human is just that—any average human male, wherever he happens to live. We use Jane Human for women.”

  I got it. “There won’t be more tractors brought, so the farmer in Fell will never get one of his own?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I thought they were manufacturing tractors in Whay.”

  He leaned toward me with a strange look on his face. “They are—very slowly. And the manufacturers are only selling to residents of Whay at the moment. And Joe Human of Fell was all set to buy one this landing! How will he handle his disappointment?”

  I groaned.

  “Let’s look at Jane Human of Bonn,” he went on. “She’s forgotten, or never experienced, the hardship suffered by the first colonists, where she had to grow her own wheat and mill her own flour, or live in a tent! Her husband’s been so successful, she’s been buying flour from some other poor woman for several years. Where will she get money to buy flour if the ships stop coming and no longer buy atun from her husband? Not to mention, her grandmother has filled her mind with stories of how everyone suffered back on Earth. She hasn’t been suffering—and she doesn’t want to. What will her husband and sons do to keep her happy?”

  I stared at him in dismay. “You paint a dark picture.”

  Dropping his head, he gazed at his hands, as if unwilling to look me in the eye. “I know. I’m sorry, my friend. I think chaos is coming until whoever is the strongest takes over and establishes some sort of uniform law and order.” He raised his head swiftly, his eyes flashing. “You’ll be caught in the onslaught. I’m sure of it.”

  “But, why?”

  “Rumors fly everywhere. You don are considered very wealthy. You can spend time flying all over the land, for no pay, and still live in a huge mansion on a bluff overlooking a beautiful plain. So do your children. You don’t ever labor in a field, in a factory, at a desk. Neither do the other don.”

  I babbled something incoherent.

  “And, you have these powerful beings at your beck and call, to transport you wherever you like. You don’t need fuel. You don’t need to pay taxes to build roads. You don’t have to borrow or, worse yet, rent an air-car to visit your ailing mother.”

  “What ailing mother?”

  “Never mind. Just an expression. Do you follow what I’m saying? Most humans are envious of you don and what they perceive as your wealth and indolence. They want your life-style. And they think they’ll never get it without the ships continually bringing them supplies.”

  I leaned deep into my chair, slumping, as the things he was talking about took root. He remained silent for at least five minutes, watching me work out what was coming for myself. When I looked up, he asked, quietly, “Have you found any trace of the robber bands?”

  “Bands?”

  “Yes, I think so. Don’t you?” I shook my head and he went on. “I think some humans have already started taking what they want and they’ll only increase their activities now that the ships have stopped. They’ve been striking way too often for it to be just one group. And all over the continent.”

  His thoughts were appalling, but I appreciated him sharing them with me. He thinks like a human. He knows much more than me what might be going on.

  Korola called for us to join the family at the dinner table. By unspoken agreement, we didn’t discuss his news while eating. Instead, he talked about his newborn granddaughter and had the family laughing at the antics of his six-year-old grandson.

  Granddaughter, grandson? Has it been that long?

&
nbsp; For the first time, I thought to really look at him as he talked with my younger brothers. His face hadn’t changed much—not lined like I’d seen in other older humans. He was heavier than I remembered and his hair was streaked with grey. I tried to think when I’d seen him last—twenty years! Imagine him coming to warn me after all this time. I’d been right back then. This one was a very good human.

  **

  After he left, I called together as many family members as I could and we discussed Dr. Tucker’s warning. Taking it as seriously as it had been given, we decided to invoke an emergency Council meeting. The last time the don had gathered at Center, there’d been grumbles but no outright anxiety. That day in my home, I saw fear in some of the faces around me—especially those of my two older sisters and their homm who didn’t live with us in the main compound.

  **

  We were on the point of leaving for Center when again, an air-car landed just below the bluff. The young human climbing the stairs looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

  Jol stepped past me with a warm greeting. “Jonathan, welcome. What are you doing here?” They clasped hands in the human manner and Jol turned to me. “Dr. Tucker’s oldest son, Jonathan.”

  I saw the strong resemblance. This boy had the same laughing eyes as his father. “Welcome. We’re just about to leave but I’d gladly sit down for a cup of Lareina with you.”

  “No, sir. Don’t tarry on my account. I’ve been sent to deliver a message.”

  “For just me?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I motioned for him to start down the stairway toward his air-car, saying to Jol, “Head on toward Center. Aarnyon and I will catch you up, shortly.”

  “Right. See you later, Jonathan.” He spun and began organizing everyone to mount.

  Halfway down the stairs, the boy stopped. “My father wanted me to warn you—rumors are circling that the reeth control you, and if someone were to capture a reeth, they could force you to surrender.”