Mating Flight

by Mating Flight (lit)

  The administrator kept her eyes on Sheleigh, pleading. "No," she said in a low tone.

  "Were the other trouble students worse, the same, or less trouble than the radicals?"

  The administrator turned to Mikesh then. Her brows furrowed. "Similar."

  "What types of punishment do you employ here to deter troublemakers?"

  "First, a stern talk from a teacher or administrator. Second, a dirty task to complete, like cleaning steps. Next, time away from school to think about reform. Last, expulsion from the school."

  "And were all of your trouble students punished that year?"

  "Yes."

  "Did the punishment deter them from trouble?"

  "Not them. Not at first."

  "What do you mean?"

  "We knew they were trouble before they got here because they were trouble in primary school. When all the punishments except expulsion failed, we devised a new punishment. They were chronic offenders, you see. And it worked. They were quiet for awhile afterwards. We hoped it would last, but it didn't."

  "What punishment did you devise for the radicals?" Messer Akelee's voice contained no inflection and no emotion. Sheleigh held her breath, wondering what misdeed the school had inadvertently committed.

  "We refused to allow them to wear their capes in school for a week."

  Sheleigh's breath escaped in a rush. Oh no, not that!

  "Did they object?" Mikesh's steady questioning continued.

  "Oh yes, but it was the only way to stop the trouble."

  "Was this punishment used on anyone else?"

  "No."

  "Why not?" he probed.

  "They were the worst. They were incorrigible."

  "You said they were the same as others that year."

  "They were non ..." The administrator clamped her mouth on the damning words. Her face flushed, and then paled in horror.

  "Please complete your sentence. They were non ..."

  "Non-winged." The words were a sigh.

  "Did everyone at the school know they were non-winged before you prevented them from wearing their capes?"

  "Most people did."

  "How did people treat them before you punished them this way?"

  "They didn't socialize much. The other students didn't want to be involved in trouble."

  "Did the other troublemakers associate with them?"

  "No."

  "How were they treated after a week without their capes?"

  Her eyes dropped from the envoy's face. "They were shunned," the administrator admitted. Her white hands gripped each other across her waist.

  "Was it your intention that they be shunned?"

  She looked up at him. "I just wanted to stop the trouble."

  "But you chose the punishment to fit the fact that they were non-winged."

  "Yes. They were more trouble than the winged."

  "That's not what you said earlier." Mikesh addressed the group. "Who here taught the radicals?"

  Heads turned as they looked at each other. Slowly a gray-haired man in the first row stood. "I did." A woman four rows over stood. "I did, too." One by one twenty-six people stood up.

  Mikesh began with the man in the front row. "How was their behavior in class?"

  "They were troublemakers, envoy. I had both of them one year. They were rebellious, didn't listen, spoke to me disrespectfully, disrupted class, were argumentative and a general nuisance."

  "Were they worse than other trouble students you've had?"

  The man's eyes sought the administrator's eyes. His shoulders sagged. He looked at Sheleigh and for a moment she saw pain in his eyes. He looked away quickly, facing the envoy instead.

  "They were bad, but not the worst."

  "What made them different in your mind?"

  "They were non-winged," the man stated bluntly, then tried to explain further. "Their DNA is different, you see. We don't know how different. They're not like us."

  Sheleigh felt her temples throb as her blood pressure skyrocketed. Her breathing quickened. Her cheeks grew warm. Such ignorance in educators was unpardonable.

  She glanced at Mikesh. His look was sympathetic before he turned to question the next teacher. Each teacher, save one, gave a similar story of unruly boys pushing beyond the limits of acceptable behavior. The one exception was the language teacher. The future radicals were studious in her class, although she said what they wrote for homework was inflammatory and shocking.

  Sheleigh felt sick inside, cold in her belly. The majority of the teachers made reference to the students being non-winged when they talked about the boys. None of them mentioned hair or eye color, facial features or any other descriptor besides 'non-winged.' Did they label her the same way, as 'non-winged?'

  After the last educator spoke, Mikesh thanked them and dismissed them. They seemed relieved to go and melted from the room. Sheleigh waited until the last one left before she stalked to the exit at the back of the room. She needed air not tainted by bigotry. Bateleur held the odor open for her. Captain Steller followed behind her.

  "To the roof," she commanded.

  The hydrolift ride seemed interminable. Sheleigh would explode if it took much longer. This little space couldn't contain what she felt. She needed the wide open space outside.

  The hydrolift arrived at the roof, the doors opened and Sheleigh burst outside into freedom. She gulped in lungfuls of untainted air. She was aware of voices talking around her, cadences rising and falling, but she moved about without actually listening to anyone.

  Bateleur's face appeared before her. His brows were puckered. "My lady, are you unwell?"

  "I need air. Please, just let me breathe."

  He bowed slightly and moved aside.

  She ceased pacing finally facing north and the great snow-capped peaks just visible in the distance. She breathed in coolness, freshness, purity. How she wished she could be there now, feeling the cold air on her face.

  "Dr. O'Brien?" Messer Akelee's patient voice penetrated her absorption.

  She turned to see his bucolic face. His Grimari partner stood guard at his back. "Yes?"

  He spoke in English. "You're upset about the way these people treated the radicals."

  "You don't need to soothe me," she said more sharply then she intended. She modified her tone. "Even you can't soothe me over this. Ignorance. Intolerance," she spat the words out. "Averans are so advanced." Her out flung arm indicated a passing transport. "But they're so backward." Her arm drew in to her chest where her hand closed into a fist.

  "My father-in-law died because of this," her arm swept out towards the school. "My husband is crippled because of this. My family has suffered much because of this. These people broke a sacred trust!" Her voice broke.

  She drew in several breaths and dropped into Basic, looking at the Grimari. "A sacred trust. Children were entrusted into their care to mold into productive citizens. They molded monsters." The Grimari nodded and she looked back at Mikesh.

  "They're not the only ones who molded monsters." She laid her hands on her belly. "My children will be born soon. Too soon, I fear. They'll be non-winged in a society that distrusts and despises what is different. I'll be forced to entrust them to people like these to educate them. I don't want my children to be molded into monsters too."

  "I'll work very hard to make changes so that won't happen," Mikesh assured her.

  "You're just one man, and there's so much that needs changed."

  "You're just one woman. Look what you've accomplished so far. The people in there confessed to you, not to me."

  She gave a bitter laugh. "Everyone confesses to me." She shook her head. "I'm as guilty as they are. I brought progressive ideas to Avera, ideas the radicals wanted badly enough to kill for. So you see, I have sins of my own to atone for."

  "You didn't cause the bigotry, doctor."

  "No, that's been festering a long time. Has it been going on too long? Is it beyond hope of repair?"

  He shook his head. "No. Ev
ery day that we draw breath there's hope. Averans have a problem. The first step in solving that problem is admitting it out loud and recognizing it as a problem. It's beginning to happen, but it will be a slow process. Don't lose hope just because it goes slowly. Avera needs your help to bring healing to its people."

  She stared into his eyes as his words echoed her own earlier thoughts. Yes, healing people was her responsibility. She held out her hand to Mikesh and he took it in his warm, slender fingers. His eyes were a warm gray. Someone might think with his pale coloring that he was cold, but he wasn't. In a way, Mikesh was a healer, too.

  "Thank you for being here, Messer Akelee."

  His brows came together. "Something I said upset you."

  She let go of his hand, remembering that his race was empathic. "It was nothing you did. Shall we go?"

  He followed her cue and looked at the chrono on his wrist. "Yes. We're only an hour off our schedule."

  Sheleigh walked over to Captain Steller. "We're ready to go on to the college."

  Captain Steller spoke into his wrist com, calling for the transport. Then he turned his attention to her. "Are you feeling better, my lady?"

  "Yes. I'm sorry I worried you."

  "It was the teachers, wasn't it? You were angry at them."

  She looked around the landing pad at the guards assigned to her. They watched her more than they watched their surroundings. They were loyal men and women given the uncomfortable task of guarding a non-winged. But to them, she was an alien first, a non-winged second. They judged their own species more harshly than they judged others.

  She turned back to the Captain. "You heard what the administrator said about the punishment with the capes?"

  "Yes."

  "How would you have felt if you'd been punished that way?"

  He frowned and pursed his lips. He looked up and away. Sheleigh waited patiently. Mikesh moved to stand beside her, looking curious.

  Finally Captain Steller spoke. "I would be very uncomfortable without my cape." He looked at Sheleigh then. "I would feel like everyone was looking at me. I wouldn't feel safe."

  "Not safe?" she asked.

  Steller nodded towards Mikesh. "Until the envoy came, we hid our wings so that outsiders wouldn't kill us. Without my cape I would feel exposed. I would keep my back against the wall so that death couldn't sneak up on me."

  Sheleigh looked at Mikesh. "And this is what they did to young boys. Made them feel defenseless and vulnerable."

  She turned back to Steller as the thwop-thwop-thwop of the approaching transport grew louder. "Thank you for that insight, Captain."

  * * * *

  Through his lashes Kleet watched Sheleigh eat her fish. This was one of the few times they'd been alone together at dinner. Lefair and the envoy had gone to see Lefair's aunt, who was quite old, in hopes of getting a historical perspective on non-winged prejudice. So he was alone with Sheleigh. They ate in the kitchen to save time.

  She seemed distracted, so he took the opportunity to study her. There were signs of strain on her face, in the shadows under her green eyes and the furrow between her coppery brows. There was a slump to her shoulders, as though they were weighed down by a heavy burden. Had she taken on too much responsibility aiding the envoy?

  He looked her fully in the face. "How did it go with the envoy today?" It was a safe topic that didn't impinge on their damaged relationship.

  She halted the forkful of braised vegetables on its way to her mouth and put her silverware back on her plate. Her eyes flickered as emotions passed too quickly through them like clouds across the sun in a fast-moving storm. To his surprise pain looked like one of the emotions.

  "Some of the radicals had been students at the secondary school," she stated baldly, laying it between them like a gauntlet.

  He sat up straighter. "Tell me everything." He listened to her account, wincing at her anger and at the punishment the boys had endured when she told that part of the story. At that point her eyes flashed and snapped green fire. At another time her voice grew harsh with frustration.

  "The prejudice is so widespread. Even the people who are decent and law abiding are prejudiced. They don't recognize that it's wrong to treat non-wingeds that way. I don't know if it's possible to change the way an entire planet thinks." Her hands clenched on either side of her plate.

  Guilt twisted inside him. Until recently he'd been prejudiced, too. It was still hard to think of the non-wingeds as normal Averans. And if it was hard for the Avatier, how much harder must it be for regular people. He was saved from replying when Sheleigh spoke again.

  "I don't want my children going to that school until I'm sure that tolerance is being practiced there. We might have to import a tutor from off planet."

  "Avera is off limits to outsiders," he reminded her.

  "I won't have my children subjected to mistreatment by people in authority. I can't be with the children every day of their education, either. I've got to know they're safe when they're away from me."

  "The children won't be ready for school for five or six years. A lot can change in that time."

  "The children will be here soon enough. I'll be alone with them while you're at work. What happens when I get tired or I want to return to work? Who will I turn to then to take care of them? Lefair is leaving us. Who can I trust not to damage the children emotionally?"

  "No one would dare hurt the heirs."

  "I don't even know how you're going to react to non-winged children," she flung at him. He flinched at the note of desperation in her voice. "Up to now you've disparaged the non-winged."

  "They're my children. I'm going to love them. They're my own flesh. My heirs. They'll be my contribution to peace with the non-winged."

  Sheleigh looked at him with incipient hope in her face, and longing. He fought the pull she exerted on him. He was tied deeply to her, but she wanted more than that. She wanted the part of him that had died with his ability to fly. But he couldn't give that part, he couldn't even feel that part of his emotions any more. All he could give her was his body. And if that was all he could give ...

  He stood and held out his hand to her. "Let's go to bed."

  She remained seated. "I thought we could talk. Don't you think it's time?"

  He shook his head. "Nothing's changed. I can still only fly one way. If you want to help me, come to bed and help me to fly."

  Pain flickered across her face as the light of hope faded. She rose slowly and slid her hand into his. The mate-bond flared. He closed his fingers around hers and led her out of the kitchen. He would be one with her in the only way possible now.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ecau removed his hands from Sheleigh's eyes and she blinked in the bright light. In front of her was the sample glider. No wings, because there wasn't space in the room, but the triangular frame and the fabric sling in which she would lay were there. The glider was mounted in a tripod frame. She stepped forward and caressed the metal. It gleamed brightly, like her hopes. Soon it would be ready to test in a real flight, and then Kleet would be made whole again. She hefted the frame and felt its light weight. So little to carry such a heavy hope.

  She turned back to the engineers. Her three conspirators, four counting Bateleur who stood behind them. The engineers beamed with the pride of accomplishment. They'd grown confident in the weeks they'd been working for her. They stood tall with their faces bright and smiling.

  "Show me how it works," she begged.

  They surrounded her. Pithe and Ecau talked simultaneously as they explained the features of the glider.

  "One at a time," she laughed. Their enthusiasm was contagious.

  "Climb in," Pithe urged.

  They helped her climb into the fabric sling. Almost at once the difficulties became apparent. Sheleigh was almost seven months pregnant and huge with twins. She couldn't comfortably lie down on her stomach in the sling. She grunted with discomfort.

  "This won't work. Help me up." She reached out her hand
to Tera.

  "Wait," Ecau commanded. He slipped a drawing stylus from his pocket and dropped to his knees. Sheleigh felt him draw a circle around her belly. She waited as patiently as she could.

  Ecau slipped the stylus back in his pocket. "All right, help her up."

  Bateleur, Pithe and Tera pulled her up from the sling while Ecau got back on his feet.

  Sheleigh wiped sweat from her brow and pushed her hair back from her face. Movement was difficult now that she was so big.

  Ecau pointed to the sling. "If we cut a circle where I've drawn one, the pregnancy will hang through. The rest of the sling will support her body."

  "It might work," Pithe agreed.

  "It'll have to be reinforced around the hole," Bateleur put in from his post at the doorway once again.

  Several heads nodded. They all stared at the sling. Sheleigh pictured how ungainly and ungraceful she would look with her belly poking through the hole.

  "What about when the Avatier flies with her?" Tera asked. Of course, Tera would consider the mate's needs.

  They turned to Sheleigh and she felt her cheeks grow warm. They weren't asking about mating, yet, just about where Kleet would be physically in the glider.

  "In theory, Kleet should be next to me. But I don't know which side he'll be on." She cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should make several wide bands of cloth, or two swings, one in front to lay my chest on." She placed both hands below her breasts and spread them straight out to her side to show them where the first support should be. "Then the second one should be across my thighs." She made a sweeping motion across mid-thigh. "Does that sound like enough support?"

  "A variation on the swing idea," Tera murmured. She cocked her head while she stared at the glider.

  "It might work," Pithe agreed.

  "Too dangerous," Bateleur objected. "What about some sort of body harness connected to the frame? I've seen them used in industry."

  "That would work," Ecau exclaimed.

  "Dr. O'Brien," a deep bass voice rumbled in Basic from the doorway.

  Sheleigh and several of the others jumped. She turned to see the Grimari Kirgesner looming in the doorway, his presence dark and dangerous. Her heart rate slowed once she saw who it was.