"A glorious revenge, Captain Kearn! Surely you don't plan to spoil the moment by contesting our right to this obviously abandoned world."
The Kraal were nothing if not predictable, I grinned to myself, going down on my belly to crawl closer.
The Commonwealth's man-on-the-spot definitely looked as though he wished himself anywhere but. It didn't help Kearn's confidence to be gazing up, nose to mucus-adrip muzzle, at the Matriarch's battle-scarred Second. I thought he should really have taken the time to put on a dress uniform. The Kraal were resplendent in their best, doubtless a further blow to the Human's ability to think clearly.
"This is an Inhaven colony, Captain," Kearn was blustering. I had to give him credit. "While we appreciate your assistance in destroying the Esen-monster," I lifted one lip in a snarl, changing my mind. "I hope you realize we can't allow you to simply—take over a registered, working colony of the Inhaven government."
"Working?" This from the captain of the Unnos Ra. "Show me a colonist, my good Captain Kearn. Show me an operational plant—or even a toilet!"
"You can't do this!" Kearn sputtered. The Ganthor's immediate *!! * sent him back a quick few steps.
"There's no need for violence, Horn Kraal," this from Sas, whose own body language was anything but pacific. "Your troops should stand down from their weapons and help us in our search."
"Search?"
Kearn wiped his face with a handkerchief and looked gratefully at his security officer. "Yes, yes," he said, gesturing beyond the Rigus to the abandoned Ahab. "We have a missing person. Someone who might be injured and need our assistance," he added sanctimoniously. I tried not to laugh.
The captain of the Unnos Ra nodded graciously, his mop of white hair adding to the effect. "As Temporary Administrator of this planet for the Kraal Confederacy, I willingly extend our aid to your efforts."
I had to put my paws over my muzzle to keep quiet at this. Kearn was going to have to acknowledge the Kraal claim in order to search the colony. I could see he was about to faint at the thought.
But his better sense won. After all, his monster was dead, Inhaven was only loosely part of the Commonwealth, and the mission parameters of a First Contact ship, though already thoroughly fractured by his chase after me, hardly included stepping into diplomatic or other messy negotiations over territories. Passing on responsibility was a Kearn strong point. I could almost read his mind.
It took a bit more talking before the details of the search were sorted out by all parties. The Kraal had more posturing to do, and the Rigus crew were not in a hurry to commit themselves in any potentially hazardous situation. The Ganthor, relieved from duty, spent the time exploring the immediate surroundings of the ships—something no one else felt obligated to stop.
I had gradually moved until I was safely downwind, having a greater respect for the Ganthor's natural abilities than for the high-tech scanners on any of the ships.
Inevitably, Kearn caved in and allowed the Kraal to command the search. I kept out of their way, watching from a safe distance as a steady stream of beings marched into the Ahab and out again, some carrying objects whose value in their hunt I knew would be minimal. I hope no one mistook the rostra sprouts for anything Human-edible.
It was a well-organized, if boring process. I napped at times, waiting for them to give up. The Quartos Ank sent out its aircar, retrieving it just before sunset. Small search parties trooped through the fields, not bothering with the forest, since there were no trails or roadways to follow. If they had, I wondered what they would have made of the vast hole I'd left, all that remained of the fern tree, its neighbors toppled to the ground.
The one piece of excitement came when Ganthor found where Ragem and I had slept, broadcasting this discovery with a volley of armsfire that sent off alarm klaxons on the Rigus and likely scared Kearn half to death.
The chance I'd been waiting for arrived shortly after this, the sun having finally set, and the Ganthor having been ordered back to the Quartos Ank. I presumed no one wanted to blunder around in the dark with a herd of trigger-happy mercs.
It wasn't a problem for me. As the herd passed my hiding place, I cycled. They stopped, nostrils flaring as they caught my scent and reacted with pleased surprise.
*Come !!* signaled the Matriarch, almost knocking me flat with her welcome. I had some trouble breathing as the rest of them jostled to get closest to me. The scents were overwhelmingly of welcome; Ganthor rarely exhibiting surprise at anything the cosmos threw at them. It was a refreshing attitude.
Once we sorted ourselves out, most of the pleasantries involving collision and a certain amount of bruising, I found myself safely tucked in the center of a mass of very content Ganthor, one with the herd. As easily as that, we marched together back to the Unnos Ra and boarded right under the unobservant eyes of the guard stationed at her port. Fourteen Ganthor or fifteen. The herd was its own smelly, noisy, potentially dangerous entity. No one in their right minds would argue with it.
I'd counted on that.
I took one last look at the Rigus before I was shoved into the ship by my herdmates.
Ephemeral memories were so short.
I hoped Ragem would remember me. He was, I thought with a return of overwhelming loneliness, the only one left who could.
* * *
60: Mountain Morning
« ^
"PUT IT in the other corner, please." I watched the Human struggle with the heavy table, but didn't offer to help. I'd tried that earlier and been thoroughly rebuffed. Proud folks, these colonists, I thought.
It wasn't the first time I'd noticed this since arriving on Minas XII. It was a harsh world, rich in minerals and stark beauty, torn by sandstorms at its equator and snowsqualls everywhere else. It seemed to encourage a similarly volatile attitude in those who chose to live here.
The movers departed at last, having put my furniture in approximately the right places, leaving me a ceiling-high stack of boxes to unpack at my leisure. Shipments were finally arriving on schedule, a bonus of the new freight company started by a typically entrepreneurial group of new settlers. Rumor said they were refugees from Garson's World; but on humanity's frontier, no one asked or expected specifics of your past.
One excellent reason to live here, I hummed to myself, drawn irresistibly to the window of my new home. The other reason hung overhead, patterned in the stars revealed by the midsummer's lull in storm activity. The Fringe.
I stared up at those stars, knowing what they represented. There above me was the path buried in Ersh-memory. It was the path etched in what I retained of my Enemy's past. It was the path the next invader would follow. And maybe, I thought, admitting myself young enough for both hope and folly, it was the path a different type of web-being might take, a being who could be a friend. A new idea, and one Ersh would doubtless have disapproved of. It was our way to live alone, I knew.
I had just never expected to be this alone.
I was tempted to cycle and use my web senses to seek what might be out there, friend or foe. Later, I promised myself. It was my vigil, my life's work. The Web of Ersh had sought to collect and preserve the accomplishments of intelligence.
The Web of Esen, I vowed to myself, looking up at those stars, would protect what lived.
I was satisfied with my purpose. I was satisfied with my home, perched on a mountaintop the locals warned me experienced the worst possible effects of the coming winter storms. It reminded me of another mountain. I was entitled, I thought, to that, feeling a trace of familiar aloneness.
I wasn't, however, satisfied with my latest shipment. Could no one read an order form anymore?
"Rostra sprouts," I said for the third time to the person at the other end of the com link, a normally very helpful representative of the Largas Freight Line. "I ordered two cases of fresh rostra sprouts—prepaid!" I calmed myself. "I just want to know when you think they might arrive."
There was a sound at the other end of shuffling plas. I suspected mo
st businesses prerecorded the sound to reassure irate customers something was being done. Even if it wasn't.
"Your order has been delivered, Fem Esolesy-ki. I have the record right here—"
"Well, it didn't—" I paused, cocking an ear to a buzzing from outside. "Perhaps that's it now. I'll let you know."
I hurried to the door. Sure enough, there was a delivery shuttle sitting on the pad between my porch and the abrupt beginning of the cliff that afforded me such a magnificent view, as well as a secure entrance. I found I'd lost my fear of cliff edges. Maybe it had something to do with flying out there.
The driver had already climbed out and was reaching into the back for a crate.
My "Come right in—" dried up and lost itself somewhere in my throat. I knew that shape…
Especially when it turned around and smiled at me. "Sorry I'm late," he said, eyes suspiciously bright.
"Ragem?" I realized my mouth was hanging open after the word and snapped it shut. "What—How?" This with a growl.
"When I heard the order for sprouts, I knew who it had to be." His triumphant smile faded away, replaced by something more akin to pain. "That's not true. I didn't know, Esen. All I could do was hope. I thought I'd lost you."
"You were supposed to," I whispered, but felt my tail try to wag. I spared some thought to self-preservation. "Would you get inside! Is Kearn—"
Ragem tucked the crate under one arm—healed then, I noticed—and followed me indoors. "You're safe. Kearn thinks we're both dead," he said in a ridiculously satisfied voice. He dropped the crate down on the floor and came over to take my shoulders in both hands, touching his nose to my muzzle in a quick Lanivarian-version of a hug. "Nice place you've got here."
"You are impossible!" I snarled, trying to be upset, but becoming convinced this could be the best day of my life. "I arranged for you to go back to the Rigus!"
Ragem ignored this, busy exploring the house. I found myself following behind, arguing to the back of his head. His dark hair had grown long enough to need a clip, I noticed. He was wearing a set of rumpled spacer coveralls. "I like this," he decided. There was a unwarranted and decidedly happy bounce to his step.
I grabbed his arm to stop him, lips curled so tightly back over my teeth I hoped the words were understandable. "I tried to give you back your friends, your family!" All I had lost, he had willingly sacrificed. Why?
Ragem disregarded my fangs, rubbing me gently under one ear. "I know. The Largas—great folks, by the way—explained they were sent to pick up a somewhat deranged Commonwealth officer." He pretended to frown at me. "Not a pleasant description, Es. But anyway, it didn't take a great deal of persuasion—or credits—to convince them I was quite sane, thank you, and to change their minds. It helped that our Kearn has such a gift for offending people. They told the Rigus they couldn't find such a person, collected their due reward for their efforts, and headed for their original destination, here, with a new member of the crew."
"Why did you come with them here?" As cosmic coincidences went, this was a whopper.
He turned his attention thoughtfully to my other ear.
I'd stopped snarling at some point. "You'd left the maps out, Es, one night on the Ahab," he chided gently. "I guess you thought I was asleep. It didn't take rocket science to figure out that Minas was that Fringe colony you hoped to go to, if—" Ragem's voice roughened, "—if you survived battling your Enemy."
He paused. "That was the worst of it, Esen. That you pushed me away and went off to die alone."
"I wasn't planning to die," I rebutted, backing out of his hold. "And you didn't believe me dead for an instant, did you?"
The Human grinned. "Any being who can get in and out of as much trouble as you have couldn't possibly be defeated by one creature. I never doubted you." He spread out his hands. "I only doubted if I'd find you."
"Now that you have, what do you want?" I said, suddenly knowing the answer I desperately needed, but knowing it was his choice.
Ragem patted the wood trim around the fireplace. "My own room, for starters. I've got a lot of stuff in that shuttle outside."
It was much later, after we'd moved in Ragem's belongings and caught up on old news, the way friends do, that he broached the other thing he wanted. I'd been waiting for it, and it came midway through the second bottle of Inhaven wine.
"Esen, you can become any form you've assimilated, right?"
I stretched out my paw for a refill and peered over my muzzle at him. "So?"
"There's a form you might find less conspicuous and easier to live in—on Minas, at least," Ragem began. There was a charming uncertainty in his face, a combination of the wine and an unspoken hope.
"Can I be Human?" I said for him, quite aware where this was heading. After all, he'd given up friends and family to keep me company in my self-imposed exile. It was reasonable for Ragem to wonder if he had to give up his species, too. "It's not a form I do well," I went on matter-of-factly, pretending not to see the disappointment, then amused resignation on his dear face. "Mixs had the same problem," I continued. "I should tell you about the time she…" As I finished my story, Ragem began to laugh.
I was relieved he'd been able to accept the parameters of our friendship so easily. There would be Human companionship for him on Minas. I would make sure of it. And he would always be part of the Web of Esen. It would be enough.
Later, when he'd gone to sleep, the last bottle of wine cradled under his arm, I stood somewhat unsteadily myself and went to the mirror by the door. There, I took a deep breath then cycled into that one form, the mirror showing me the image of a young girl, perhaps not quite ten standard years of age, who gazed back at me with eyes like ancient oceans.
Ragem would never see me like this.
I stepped out on my porch, seeing the future and completely content with what I saw. We would guard this gateway together. He would show me how to enjoy life as only an ephemeral could. In return, I would share with him whatever he wished to learn of other species, possibly even satisfying his inordinate curiosity—though I somehow doubted that.
We would be together as long as he lived.
And after that, I would remember Paul Ragem, my first friend, until the hearts of stars grew cold.
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