by Carol Buhler
Elsdon and Elmdon strode onto the back patio, following Jol, and immediately embraced Emma and the baby. Her father dropped to his haunches before young Joele and welcomed the boy into his arms. The boy was affectionate toward everyone so his enthusiastic greeting of his maternal grandfather caused me no jealousy. His great-grandfather was more formal, as mine would have been, and bent to shake the boy’s hand in greeting.
Elsdon then sent Emma a stern glance and she bustled Joele away, talking about a snack. He bounced into the house, causing me a flashback to that day long ago when Jol had bounced in on our meeting to scream about a huge thing falling from the sky. My son, obviously, didn’t remember that day the way I did as he turned, solemn faced, to offer his in-laws comfortable seats.
With a raised eyebrow he asked if he should stay. Elmdon said, “Take a seat, Jol. You need to hear this, too.” My heart sank. Not good news.
The elder, a contemporary of my father’s, started the tale, his voice deep and serious. “You know our place is just outside Pith?” For a second, I pondered how we all had started using the human names for reference. My father would never have tolerated that. It felt right to me.
I nodded and he continued, “We’ve been approached by Pith leaders to help them obtain a concession from Kavv for their eastern boundary.”
I leaned forward abruptly and said sharply, “Help them how?”
“Right to the heart of it!” the younger one exclaimed. He was near my age although we’d never spent time together so I didn’t know him well.
“Exactly,” his father replied. “They want us to help defend against a Kavv attack they’re expecting, using our reeth for communication in the movement of troops.”
“In the fighting, too,” Elmdon added.
Jol blurted, “You can’t do that.”
His father-in-law smiled briefly. “We won’t. But we don’t know how to diplomatically tell them no.” He glanced at his father before going on. “We heard how Hindon’s reeth-mate was captured and we’re afraid they’ll try something like that to force our help.”
The elder held himself stiffly erect. He’s ashamed of having to ask for help.
“He’s afraid to lose his mind-mate, or his son’s,” Aarnyon corrected.
“Are you being extra careful?” Jol asked.
“Of course,” the old hom snapped. Then, his voice broke and anguish suffused his face. “What if they threaten to shoot him! How do we defend against that? Hide in the house?”
“Move here, to Center,” I answered quickly. “They won’t find you here.”
“Abandon our home?”
“We had to.” I remained stern. I knew how hard it was to make such a decision although my home had been taken from me. I decided, at that very moment, looking into the fearful faces of these, my relatives through marriage, that only in Center could we truly be safe from the humans’ guns.
Jol had opened his mouth to speak when Elsdon convulsed with anguish. Elmdon’s eyes grew huge and he slumped in his chair. Then, Aarnyon relayed the news they’d just received. One of Elmdon’s sons, brother to Emma, was being threatened by people from Pith with the death of his reeth-mate whom they’d captured and hidden. The threat: his family, including his father and grandfather, as the humans well knew, had to help against Kavv or they would shoot the reeth.
I was frantic. They don’t understand that if they kill the reeth, the don will die, too! They don’t know that. And they don’t value the reeth as a sentient being, equal to a human.
“They also don’t understand this is not an old reeth they’ve caught, likely to panic with terror,” Aarnyon said. “He’s furious—and sending coordinates! We’ll have him out shortly.” He didn’t wait for me but Jol managed to get aboard a fidgeting Taggert to go with them. Mostly, the rescue party was reeth, with only two of Emma’s younger brothers along, and, of course, the mind-mate of the captured reeth riding double with another.
The rest of the Els family abandoned the threatening delegation from Pith, leaving them fuming in an empty household. After receiving Aarnyon’s battle cry, the femm, children, and elderly headed for Center. Fortunately, they had no infants or foals to help escape.
Elsdon, Elmdon and I enjoyed the rescue scene from the comfort of the armchairs on our back patio, sipping chilled Lareina with Emma and Korola. The hiding place was simply an empty, falling down shed. Aarnyon led the charge, smashing directly through the fragile roof followed by the rest. The falling top collapsed the shed completely; tumbling timbers and roof tiles knocked the human guards to their knees. At least they were smart enough to stay down as reeth swarmed over and around them.
The captured one was tied securely with ropes around his belly to flatten his wings and more ropes woven between his front and back legs, I guess to keep him from kicking his captors. He had a dark sack over his head, but he didn’t need to see with his rescuers talking constantly. Jol swung down and flashed the knife he always carried. Ropes parted with a snap while the mind-mate yanked the sack from the reeth’s head.
Jol swung toward the cowering humans, brandishing the knife. “Don’t try this stunt again. It won’t end so well for you next time.”
They were back in Center by evening. Emma’s family joined ours for dinner. They planned on crowding into their own small residence for the night—it was usually only used during Speakers’ gatherings—and starting to build on the next day. We were savoring the after dinner pudding topped with Lareina wine sauce when a reeth hoof struck the front door. Joele went streaking past the dining room opening, one of Emma’s young nieces in hot pursuit.
He shrieked, “Welcome! Welcome, Lillaud,” as he jumped against the door trying to turn the handle. The girl caught him and opened it for him. None of our reeth-mates had bothered to warn us when the young grey arrived, responding to Joele’s mind-mate call. He stepped into the foyer, a handsome fellow, and dropped his head to Joele’s. Jol, Emma and all of us grandparents watched with tears in our eyes as the meld snapped into place. The boy wrapped his short, stubby arms around the reeth’s nose, the only part he could reach.
During the night, the young reeth’s parents arrived and we learned he was of the direct line of the leader of the huge Lill herd, the great-grandson of old Lillume himself. That revered one was unmelded, at least two-hundred-fifty-years old, and held great personal power among all reeth. It was a thrill for our family to have his great-grandson meld with Jol’s young son.
After the bonding ceremony the next day, Lillume spoke to Aarnyon offering whatever support he and his could provide in our struggles with the humans. Having them with us will add around a thousand reeth to any force we may need!
22. The Plan
News of the reeth-kidnapping fiasco perpetrated by Pith spread among the humans and no one else tried to capture a reeth, to our relief. However, Kavv did attack Pith and the battles were fierce, forcing many don families to abandon their homes, coming to Center to avoid the clashes. Then, Julesburg joined the fray—no one seemed to know if they sided with one or the other, or were fighting to protect their own interests from the other two armies.
It seemed to me that humans were battling humans all over the continent, with few of the soldiers themselves even knowing what they were fighting for. It went on and on. When Jesi and her hom along with the entire Ila family took refuge in Center, I learned that Carn was now fighting Fell. Building began in haste on the Center bluff as family after family fled the plains for safety.
We Speakers met, with nothing decided. Even with the Lill herd ready to help, we saw no way to confront the now trained and experienced human soldiers with their repeating rifles and even bigger weapons that had been developed within the last two years in what was these days the state called Whay. The head human there, after changing the name of his city and what he claimed was his state, declared himself Lord of Whay and lined his borders with armed men to repel invaders. We heard he was getting rich with his weapon sales and intended to protect his manu
facturing plants with whatever force he needed.
His move caused anger and fear in Zronton, who began to pressure don families there to help them defend themselves against Whay. Kora came home, her hom’s family in tow. We squeezed and made room, and helped built a new estate for the Ele family, finishing just before the Jer family arrived from the same area.
It seemed to me that the only area not involved in armed confrontations of some sort was the north, Wofdon’s territory. He kept me closely informed of happenings there and maintained surveillance of Lorner.
I despaired, although I confessed that despair only to Aarnyon and Korola. I began to stay inside in order to avoid those trying to rebuild their lives on a much smaller scale. We had plenty of room on the Center bluff to construct homes. We also had material and labor. But, the valley was already filled with crop-land squeezed to its maximum capacity. Someone would have to spread out to other valleys to keep us fed.
What worried me the most, however, was that I saw no way to stop the humans if they decided to come after our safe place in the mountains. So far, they couldn’t get to us as their air-cars would not fly high enough to cross the front range. However, rumors flew between those few families still on the plains and their relatives in Center that the Lord of Whay had engineers working on something called an airplane that could fly much higher, supposedly to drop powerful bombs on those who opposed him. I thought he wanted to cross over our mountains, come after us.
Something Jol said to his son about deceptions reminded me of our clandestine excursion into Lorner, when we’d tricked those around us into thinking we were human. The answer came in a flash. “Jol, we have lots of illusionists, don’t we?”
He looked at me, questioning my words coming completely out of context.
“Yes…I guess so.” His eyes glinted—he must have seen the change in my attitude. “What are you thinking?”
“We can hide Center using illusions. None of the humans alive today have ever seen our mountains from the air. Even if they arrived in one of the last supply ships, only the pilots could have seen them.”
His brows dropped into a frown. “You think they’ll try to find us? Get us?”
“Sooner or later. Maybe in your time if not mine. I’m sure of it. Eventually, they’ll return to their notion that we have a much better lifestyle than they do. They’ll want to take ours. Remember Dr. Tucker’s warning?” The man had died two years earlier, from old age. His son had taken over the hospital and clinic only to have it destroyed during one of the battles. We hadn’t heard from him since.
“Not only is it a good idea…” Jol grinned with delight. “…it will give some of these moaners something meaningful to do.”
We called Kardon and Josdon to assist and the four of us created an illusion to completely cover Center Valley from the air. Our mind-mates, flying very high, reported seeing more mountains—certainly not a valley filled with farms and houses on the bluff. As we experimented, adding more practitioners, different levels of talent, and varying shift times, we worked out a schedule to continually maintain the deception. Any one of us, instinctively knowing where Center was, could fly right through the fake mountains. Humans would never see our hiding place.
The added advantage, as Jol had seen, was that it gave meaning to lots of don lives. They were used to being active. I felt fear and tension lessen almost instantly everywhere I went. Even the continual flow of refugees from the plains didn’t depress me as easily as it had.
“It’s not quite enough, I think,” Korola said over supper one evening. We ate alone; the rest of the family had their own suites in the mansion, as they’d had out at the compound. “Joedon, they know about us,” she said louder when I didn’t respond. “They’re not likely to forget and someday, they may come looking with something illusions can’t fool.”
I studied her beautiful face, at the moment still and thoughtful. When I still said nothing, she continued to muse. “The ideal thing would be if they thought we weren’t here anymore.”
“Like if they thought they’d killed us all?”
“Yeah. Or even better, if they forgot we’d ever existed.”
It seemed idle conversation, wishful thinking at the time, but during the night, inspiration struck. I shook her awake. “We can make that happen.”
“What?” she asked groggily.
“Make them think we never existed!”
Her eyes grew wide and a grin curled her mouth. “We can, can’t we?”
I called the Speakers together the next morning and presented the plan. “First, we’ll pretend to fight and let them think they’ve killed us all. Then, after they’ve become complacent, we’ll mingle in disguise, touch their minds, and remove all memories of our presence.” I saw faces starting to glow with excitement as various Speakers caught the gist of my notion. Not all of us had the powerful talent to enter a human’s mind and tweak memories, but anyone could pretend to be hit and disappear from sight, leaving behind a nugget of misdirection.
For a week, we tested and assigned tasks to anyone willing to help. Lillume brought several of his family that would pretend to be killed during battle, skilled at lulling unsuspecting humans into believing something they hadn’t seen. They demonstrated effectively in one outing to Wofdon’s. Once the old reeth leader revealed the talent among those of his herd, we asked for others and found them.
Before we were ready to implement our huge deception, one more incident happened to cement our resolve. In the mostly empty woodlands between Wofdon’s home and that of the Fel family, a two-year-old colt strayed from his herd and was shot and killed by a group of human hunters. Humans, in our minds, were kill-happy. They’d even imported from Earth a species called “deer” so they could shoot their guns and butcher their own meat, the deed filling them with pride. The practice had disgusted me when I’d first heard of it, but I’d thought no further about it until that colt was killed.
Reeth were furious, even though the colt shouldn’t have been where he was and it had truly been an accident. We didn’t punish the humans responsible. We took our roles more seriously for the next years, slaughtering our two species in the human’s minds.
We started in the south, engaging in fake battles, flicking through real ones, and apparently falling from the sky to simply disappear into a gully or a crevice we’d scouted out ahead of time. Humans crowed at some don’s demise—we heard them from our hiding places, which we’d known of long before the humans had arrived. It had been our land, I thought bitterly after an especially close encounter.
Then, the people of Zronton, taking heart from stories of our supposed defeats, attacked and ransacked don holdings in that newly formed state. Most of those don had already left for Center. A few defended their homes, then escaped as quickly as they could in the first lull of an assault. Some were wounded, and because they knew of our scheme, they pretended to be more seriously hurt, leaving the attackers with the impression they’d perished.
Reeth became accomplished at “dying” and made a game out of it. The humans never caught on. Unfortunately, our ruse only encouraged more pillaging. Even Wofdon lost control of those in his area and finally brought his family, and the six others around him, to make their homes in Center.
There was one holdout—the Wee of the marshy delta in the south. No one attacked them. No humans wanted their land—it was too hostile to fight over, someone said, and that area still lay unclaimed by humans at least thirty years later.
Xagdon had remained at his various fortresses until he couldn’t stand the noise of exploding shells and barking guns any more. That’s what he claimed. As far as I knew, various human cities were still fighting over his fertile lands while Xagdon’s sons developed new crop land in two narrow valleys south of Center. The old don himself had been wounded in the hip during one of the skirmishes and had difficulty walking from that point on. Although ornery as a mare in heat, he shared interesting stories that poked my mind into new ways of accomplishing th
e final, fictional destruction of our species.
By the year 875, I was convinced all humans on Gareeth believed they’d killed off the troublesome reeth and don. As I made my way through city after city, with my illusion disguise carefully in place, I realized that not only were some leaders claiming vast tracks of land as their “state” and adopting titles I’d not heard and didn’t understand, such as Lord, President, and Premier, they’d gone back to calling our home Garador, the name Sam had used when he first landed.
The wars hadn’t stopped. Although peace had been negotiated between Pith and Kavv a full ten years earlier, the armies of Pith had recently attacked those of Kavv, again, fighting over who owned what. Will they never settle into peace?
They didn’t get into our mountains. Our shield worked, even though planes periodically flew over. We heard them and sometimes saw them. There was, after all, another half to the continent. We’d never gone there, had never felt the need. The plains we’d just left had supplied our lives, until just a few years earlier.
It was time to start the second part of my strategy to survive the war-mongering humans, who never seemed to be satisfied.
23. Erasure
Many of us prepared to erase memories of our existence from human minds. We knew it would take years of dangerous movement through cities and villages, perhaps in the middle of a battle. Some of us selected the old judicial routes we’d followed years earlier and assigned others to fill in the spaces between. Sardon was too feeble to participate. He sent his sons.
I knew that all of my children and grandchildren had the ability to touch a human mind and erase a memory. Most of their mind-mates and spouses could, too. Korola couldn’t so she supplied support, love, and encouragement, feeding us when we were home, pampering us when we were discouraged, and, in general, keeping everyone’s spirit focused on the end goal: the relegation of don and reeth to fantasy.