"Well," Dan said, "I guess it's about time we found out."
Fair Damsel's little shuttle set down on the planet's surface forty kilometers from the settlement. They'd made no attempt at concealment, wanting to be well clear of inhabited areas in lieu of a proper landing-field. Jackie and Dan took airbikes from the cargo hold and set off toward the cliff, enjoying the feel of the warm sun and fresh air.
Dan had wanted to take Ray Li or Pyotr with them, but Jackie advised against it. "They won't be shooting at us," she pointed out.
"What about your enemy? Sharnu?"
"I think this is Hesya's play, if anything. And I don't think he'd have dragged us out here to be killed."
"It would have to be more public?"
"That's about right."
As they came within sight of the settlement, they could see four zor rising to a low altitude and coming to meet them. As they landed the bikes, the zor landed before them and arranged their wings.
"The Stance of Honor Before esLi," Jackie said quietly. "They sense the sword."
"ha Gyaryu'har," the leader said to Jackie in the High-speech. "si Sergei has joined with esLi." It was more of a statement than a question.
"A few eights of suns past," she answered. "I am Jacqueline Laperriere . . . his chosen successor."
"By High Lord Ke'erl?"
"By High Lord Sa'a," she corrected. "hi'i Ke'erl has also joined esLi."
The wing-positions of the zor lowered to denote sorrow. "I am Elar HeU'ur," the lead zor said. "I am the commander of what remains of the crew of HaChren, an exploratory vessel. We were badly damaged when we emerged from jump—"
"The comet," Jackie said. "We saw the wreckage on planet five."
Elar's wings rose a bit, to indicate surprise. "The Eight Winds blew us here, ha Gyaryu'har."
"I recognize that tone," Dan said. "Cursing his luck, is he?"
Jackie and Elar turned to face him. She'd half forgotten he was here, and realized he must have been standing there next to the bikes, watching them walk back and forth.
"se Elar," she said in Standard, "may I present Captain Dan McReynolds of Fair Damsel."
"We saw your landing," Elar said to Dan in Standard, not missing a beat. "Welcome to alTle'e—the Garden of the Servants. It is the name we have given to this beautiful planet.
"My fellow crewmembers: my Cousin, Mres HeU'ur, biologist; Dra'sen HeChra, exoculturalist; and Arash HeA'ar, engineer. We are among the few that survived the destruction. We have been here for eleven Standard years."
"I would like to meet the rest of your L'le," Jackie said.
"It would honor me to introduce you."
Jackie and Dan rode the bikes slowly toward the zor settlement, the zor flying slowly alongside.
"Tell me," Jackie said to Elar. "Why were you not rescued?"
"I have asked myself that many times, ha Gyaryu'har. I have concluded that they simply could not find us. We had been conducting planetary surveys in this area of space and had completed seven such analyses; we had been sending our reports by FTL-squirt to the regional naval base at New Basra, but evidently our flight plan never reached them."
"And when you came out of jump, you were at close proximity to a comet near the jump point."
"Our misfortune. Our vessel was critically damaged and partially depressurized. Half of the crew and passengers were blown into space in a matter of moments."
Dan winced at the description.
"We were able to rig two life-pods to escape before the fifth planet's gravity captured HaChren. We managed to land here and use materials from the pods to build shelters. We have a comp and a solar array to power it, but nowhere near enough to power an FTL-squirt. Perhaps in our children's time."
"Children?" Dan asked. "You have children?"
"Of course." Elar's wing-position altered slightly to indicate amusement, which Jackie noticed. "Several have been born since we arrived. Unfortunately, our lack of contact with the People has . . . affected them."
Each of the other zor altered wing-position at that statement. It seemed to show either tolerance or sympathy; Jackie couldn't quite tell which.
The settlement was more primitive than any L'le on a zor world, but they had done a good job of using the materials at hand. As they approached, the rest of the inhabitants turned out to see them. They were of various ages and bore the emblems of a variety of Nests, along with a colorful badge Jackie didn't recognize. The adult zor all wore chya'i.
Something else attracted her attention: A juvenile female zor stood near the front of the assembly, and also wore a chya that somehow seemed familiar to Jackie. As she dismounted her bike, the crowd seemed to part for her. The young female zor showed no deference in her own wing- posture; instead, it conveyed anger—something deep-seated and raw.
This is why I'm here, Jackie thought to herself.
"You are the Gyaryu'har," the zor said to her in the High- speech. "They told me that the Gyaryu'har was an old naZora'e."
Most of the wings nearby rose in alarm or offense. Even Dan understood something was wrong.
"She just pissed on your leg," he said.
"Not exactly," Jackie answered in Standard, without looking at him. "Things change," she continued, speaking to the juvenile in the Highspeech. "He died a few eights of suns ago. I did not realize that the High Nest had to consult with you before the transition."
"You pissed on her leg," Dan said now. Jackie ignored bjm.
"You mock me," the zor responded.
"You chose a flight over rocky peaks. You wear a chya, so you speak for yourself. Do you wish to challenge me?"
"No." Her wings approached a position of conciliation. "I ask eight thousand pardons. I recognize your authority. esLiHeYar."
The other zor nearby seemed to relax a bit.
"May I address you by name?" asked Jackie.
"I am Ch'en'ya."
"Jackie Laperriere," Jackie said, placing a hand on her own chest. "From Dieron."
"I am from here." Ch'en'ya's wings retreated to show amusement. She gestured at the other zor. "They are waiting to see how I next give offense."
Jackie looked at the other zor; they did seem to be waiting for something to happen.
"se Elar," Jackie addressed the leader. "With your permission, perhaps se Ch'en'ya could show me your L'le." And get this encounter offstage, she thought.
Elar inclined his head. The assembly began to disperse. Dan looked at her.
Jackie shrugged and said, "Maybe they can show you their workshops or something."
Ch'en'yo seemed bewildered for a moment. Then she moved her wings to the Posture of Deference to esLi and began to walk toward the edge of the cliff. Jackie walked alongside her.
"This is a beautiful world," she said to Ch'en'ya.
"It is the only one I have known," Ch'en'ya answered. "I have been condemned to life here from the time I was born, ha Gyaryu'har."
"Why do you say that you are 'condemned to life'?"
Ch'en'ya stopped short and turned to face her, anger in her wings. "Why? I am a Sensitive in emergence, ha Gyaryu'har, the most skilled one on this planet. I am too untrained to reach any others and I have no access to Sanctuary: Indeed, there is truly no one to teach me. But I can read the shadow of esGa'u's wing. It is why the ship was stranded here."
"esGa'u's wing," Jackie repeated. A chill breeze suddenly seemed to cut across the bluff. "Do you truly believe that the Lord of Despite placed you here? Do you think he has taken a particular interest in you?"
"Yes. For longer than my life. He twisted my mother's mind. He caused her to give her hsi away to my father, so that when she gave birth to me here in Ur'ta leHssa, there was not enough hsi left for her to survive the experience. And if I ever meet my father—" She placed her hand on the hilt of her chya.
"'Gave away'—?" Jackie began, and then stopped.
It hit her so hard that she nearly stumbled.
"I know. I know who you are," she said now. And why I'm
here, she thought to herself.
Ch'en'ya did not answer; instead she looked out across the bluff, away from Jackie.
"Your mother was si Th'an'ya. Your father was si Ch'k'te. This is where she went, where she knew she would go."
"You knew my mother?" Ch'en'ya asked, whirling on her.
"And your father." Now it was Jackie's turn to look away. Her eyes stung. "You can stand down, se Ch'en'ya. He's already dead."
"How—?"
"esGa'u's wing," Jackie said. "He died to help save me. And as for your mother, her hsi was . . ."
"Was what? Why was it not there for me?" Her wings rose in frustration and anger, as if she had been waiting all her life for the chance to ask this specific question. "What was so important, that my mother gave up her life and left her daughter here in this miserable place?"
Jackie unbelted the gyaryu from her waist and laid it down on the ground in front of her.
"She did it for me, se Ch'en'ya, and for that." She pointed to the sword lying in the grass. "Eleven years ago, si Th'an'ya saw esGa'u's wing descending and saw, somehow, that a new Gyaryu'har would be sent to retrieve the sword. This person would need her guidance.
"So she gave much of her hsi to si Ch'k'te—your father, my friend. And in an hour of need it was given to me. When I had no one to rely upon, I had your mother's hsi here. In my head." She touched her left temple. "And when I recovered the sword I released their hsi to esLi's Golden Light."
"You . . ."
"That's right. Do you want to use your chya now? The hsi that was not there for you, was there for me. When I was done with my task, I released it. If I had known you were here—"
Ch'en'ya drew her chya in a lightning-fast motion. Jackie forced herself to remain still, though every bit of her being wanted to dive for the gyaryu or roll out of the way. She did neither: Ch'en'ya brought her sword out before her, pointed at Jackie's unprotected chest, but did not strike.
"You are not afraid of me," she said at last.
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone else is afraid of me. They call me wild and undisciplined: They say the Strength of Madness is in my wings. Yet you are unafraid."
"Of course I'm afraid." Jackie forced herself to look at Ch'en'ya and not at the menacing blade. The words Strength of Madness echoed in her mind. "You hold a chya twenty centimeters from my chest and you obviously know how to use it.
"I don't know what strength is in your wings, but I do know that you should either kill me with the damn sword or put it away. Your choice." She spread her arms wide in a gesture that she hoped Ch'en'ya would understand.
The young zor held the fighting pose for another few moments and then sheathed the chya. "Pah. I do not see any need to kill you."
It was said in such a serious way, wing-position and all, that Jackie nearly laughed out loud. "esLi be praised," she managed, and picked up her scabbard and belted it around her waist. She looked around then, and saw a half-dozen zor watching them from near the settlement.
"They are waiting to see what you do next," Ch'en'ya explained.
"Let 'em wait." Jackie took the lead and walked toward the edge of the bluff. The view was magnificent: A pristine river cut through a wooded vale forty meters below, the trees dappled by the shadows of low-hanging clouds.
"They will want to know if I have touched your honor."
"You threatened my life. Of course, I put the gyaryu down." She turned to Ch'en'ya. "Look. This is an a'We're. You believe that esGa'u's wing brought the HaChren to this world, and I believe that esLi's wing brought me here to find the survivors: perhaps even just to find you and return you to Zor'a."
"For what purpose?"
"I don't know. I can't see that far ahead. From the time I started to fly this path I've been making one instinctive move after another; this is just the most recent one."
"You will take me from my home to visit the homeworld I have never seen. Why do you expect me to agree to this?"
Maybe to teach you some manners, Jackie thought to herself, but didn't say aloud. "Make up your own mind. I'm following the shadow of esLi's wing as I perceive it. When the homeworld learns of the L'le, I am sure that they will arrange transport for anyone who cares to leave. You can remain here if you choose, but you might wind up completely alone." She turned her back on Ch'en'ya and began to walk back toward the settlement.
"You do not believe me," Mya'ar said, watching the aircars and shuttles take off and land from the Port of Honolulu. Randall Boyd looked at the profile of the zor ambassador dappled by the late-afternoon sun, the faint tropical breeze disturbing the edges of his wings.
"I have seen too much and learned too much in the past few years to discount anything. If you say that it's true, then I believe you," Randall countered.
"I am gratified to hear you say so." Mya'ar looked away from the landing-field to his friend. "I would not take you away from your duties if I did not consider it important."
"I appreciate your concern. Now, please tell me why we're here."
Mya'ar took a pocket comp from the sleeve of his robe and gestured over it. Lines of data in zor-script appeared in the air in front of him.
"A servant of the Lord of Despite was here on Oahu late last sun. I felt him pass through and then depart. Early this sun, I sensed something of him here at the port, but could not locate him. Then he was gone."
"What time was that?"
"Around 0900, I would say." Mya'ar swept a claw across the surface of his comp, and an extra set of annotations appeared above the others. "0845. I was here eleven-sixty-fourths of a Standard day—something over four Standard hours."
"You spent four hours here?" Randall couldn't help but smile. The Port of Honolulu was beautifully decorated, but it wasn't anywhere he'd spend any length of time.
"I meditated." Mya'ar's wings rose in surprise. "Is there a problem?"
"Four hours. Please go on."
"se Randall, your facial expression indicates amusement—or is it confusion? It could not be amusement, for that would imply you were mocking me."
"I wouldn't think of it." Randall composed his face. "Continue with your description."
"I meditated," Mya'ar repeated. "Eventually I determined that the gyu'u of the Servant was no longer here. With no reason to remain, I returned home to rest."
"Until you commed me."
"Indeed, because I felt it again. These—" He gestured toward the data hanging in midair before them. "These are the vessels that departed Honolulu Port between 0800 and a sixteenth of a day later, about 0930."
"There must be more than thirty ships on that list."
"Five-eights and seven. Forty-seven."
"Do you know which one—?"
"se Randall, I have already cross-indexed this list with ships arriving from the same destinations and have determined that only one is presently inbound. I extended my perceptions as far as I could—"
"Given the distractions," Randall interrupted.
"—as far as I could," Mya'ar continued patiently. "It is this one." He pointed to one of the lines of data. "Inbound from SeaTac."
"How far away is it now?"
"According to the comp, it is less than one sixty-fourth of a day away."
"Less than half an hour," Randall said, doing the radix-eight math in his head.
"Two-eights and one—seventeen minutes."
"You sense the presence of—" Randall lowered his voice as a trio of People walked by on the concourse. "—the presence of a servant of esGa'u on an incoming shuttle from SeaTac?"
"Yes." Mya'ar's wings raised themselves in a position of guard. His taloned hand ventured near his chya.
A stray cloud occluded the sun for a moment.
"You're sure."
"Yes."
"There it is," Randall said, pointing eastward. A shiny sliver of metal caught the sunlight as it approached from the south: All civilian craft had to avoid the Imperial airspace around Molokai, adding a few dozen kilometers to ships co
ming in from the east.
"What . . . do you feel?"
"It is hard to describe." Mya'ar tucked the comp away and the data disappeared. "There is a feeling of . . . something at work. Like the trail the shuttle leaves behind." He gestured toward the contrails that marked the sky in the wake of the vessel.
"Will you know which passenger is the Servant?"
"I believe so."
"And when you identify him—or her—what do you expect to do?"
Mya'ar let his wings rise slightly in amusement and gestured across the terminal. Randall let his gaze follow the motion and noticed People scattered throughout the busy hall; as his glance fell on them, several nodded to him.
"It depends on what he does."
The shuttle began its descent. Mya'ar's wings changed position again.
Randall turned his attention to the shuttle, its landing-gear now extended and visible.
A minute ticked away. A group was beginning to gather near the gate, ready to meet arriving passengers.
"Something's wrong," Randall said. "It's not slowing down."
The shuttle continued to descend. It was clearly moving far too fast to make a safe landing. The crowd near the gate had seen it as well, and was murmuring.
"It is not turning aside," Mya'ar said. "It is on a collision course."
He said it quietly, but the others at the gate also seemed to know. It was clear that port security had caught sight of the shuttle, and they were moving in to clear the area. Mya'ar took Randall Boyd by the elbow, and several zor took up positions nearby, as they moved away from the concourse.
Mya'ar pulled his comp from his sleeve and displayed an image of the incoming shuttle.
Minutes ahead of schedule, the doomed vessel overshot Honolulu Port and slammed into the Koolau peaks near Waianae.
Chapter 25
Jackie hadn't had much of a chance yet to use the Gyaryu'har's official residence in esYen. When she last had been on the zor homeworld, Sergei had just recently died; the abode was still full of his possessions and she hadn't been comfortable with it. Most of those things had gone into storage or had been distributed or returned, leaving the place largely empty.
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