Silent Dances

by A. C. Crispin

  ease and grace, Tesa felt even more self-conscious. Tentatively, she moved

  her foot, signaling the stilts to rise. They came alive, growing into four-foot-

  tall leg extenders. Their matte-black color matched her shoes and

  StarBridge jumpsuit.

  "Take a few minutes to reacquaint yourself with those, Tesa," Meg signed.

  "There's a gentle slope to the marsh." Slope? Tesa forced herself to be calm.

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  " I'm ready ," Thorn signed, st ri ding up on his own stilts. His approach was so sudden , Tesa lost her balance and accidentally signaled the

  stilts to collapse-however , because of the lower gravity , the reaction was slow enough for her to recover without falling . T ri nity's buoyancy just might save her. "You okay?" Thorn asked, concerned.

  "Great recovery," Meg signed, barely smiling. "Let's go." Meg had told the truth; the beaten pathway that cu rv ed down the side of the bluff was

  angled gently. Tesa grew more confident as they descended, Thorn first,

  then Tesa, then Meg. The vast waterway stretched before them , its

  autumn-hued reeds nodding lazily , creating undulating waves of ri ch

  color. Then they were swal owed by the wetland and solid ground tu rn ed into thick mud that sucked at the stilts ' long-toed feet. Soon, Tesa's legs ached, and her face was coated by a slick sheen of sweat . Before long ,

  the water covered her thighs.

  The air was alive with insects from the tiniest gnat- sized to some nearly

  squirrel-sized. They were repulsed by Terran body chemicals , but that

  wouldn ' t last forever . Eventually, the stinging, biting , and poisonous a rt hropods would adapt themselves to the taste of bi tt er human , but, Tesa hoped , not too soon.

  Small mammalian, reptilian , and amphibian forms da rt ed through the

  air, splashed in the water , and clung to the tall re eds. And there were avians -- so many avians--all paddling, diving , perching , and peeking at the strange travelers.

  Eventually, they met Grus . Being on their eye level was as sta rt ling for Tesa as it was for the avians. They stared, eyes round , crowns fla ri ng as she waved and forged on.

  Just when Tesa was convinced her legs would give out, there was a break

  in the reeds. In the center of a wide circle of clear water sat a large nest

  shelter perched high on its platform. A jumble of multicolored woven

  reed mats made its steep Aframed walls look thrown-together

  haphazardly, but, yet, it seemed homey and familiar . Many Native Ame

  ri cans had made shelters of tule or reed mats--the Nez Perce, the

  Thompson Indians, the Yokut, the Umatilla. To someone light-years away

  from a summer tipi camp , this looked like home.

  Tesa realized suddenly that the Grus who had been escorting them had

  now melted back into the reeds.

  Meg drew near. "Thorn and I will wait here for you." The young Indian felt a stab of panic . " You're not coming? How'll I know what to say ?

  Suppose I do something wrong?

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  "I thought StarB ri dge students were trained in diplomacy," Meg

  signed , her eyes sparkling.

  "I never took Nest Entrance 101."

  "We didn' t want to make a big deal about it, Tesa," Thorn signed , " but Scott never got inside the shelter."

  Tesa suddenly realized she would be the first human to set foot inside a

  Grus dwelling, the shelter that was built solely for the reari ng of a child , the most impo rt ant thing in the avians' lives. "I understand ," she signed with small motions.

  "Just act naturally," Meg signed , then adjusted Tesa's collar and

  smoothed her hair . She smiled sheepishly . " So, I'm nervous, too."

  The stri king white form of a mature Grus came out of the structure to

  stand in the water, eyeing the humans . Taller, Tesa thought. Then another stepped through the shelter ' s entrance and suddenly she

  wasn ' t sure. The second one came down to perch one-legged where

  the water lapped at the base of the platform . Tesa decided that had to

  be Weaver.

  Thorn caught her attention. " We'll wait for you here."

  "Standing in the water ?" she asked, surp ri sed.

  "We've got warmers on," he assured her. "We'll be fine."

  "Good luck, Tesa ," Meg signed . Tesa took a deep breath, then strode across the clea ri ng . The ground gradually sloped up, until the water lapped shallowly at the stilt's ankles while the fabric of her StarB ri dge

  clothes drained and d ri ed rapidly.

  The Gru s Tesa had decided was Weaver faced Taller. "You were ri ght

  about her eyes, my f ri end!"

  "Friend" was only a loose translation . Like most sign language , meaning was often relayed in spatial terms - how close to or far from

  the body a sign was performed, how fast or slow. In Weaver ' s hands

  that sign became a lovely endearment.

  Taller dipped his head, flaring his wings. "It's good you've a rr ived to see the egg while the light is still strong." He swiveled his head around , pee ri ng at Thorn and Meg almost suspiciously . " I'm sor ry they can ' t join you. It must ' ve been hard to leave them at the bounda ry ."

  Tesa was grateful for his sensitivity to her feelings. Hurriedly Weaver walked

  up the almost vert ical platform. "The chick has been tapping all day,"

  she signed from a nearly invisible slit in the shelter ' s wall. "Come

  speak with him, Good Eyes , so he ' ll know you."

  Tesa had no idea what she was expected to do. How could

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  she sign to the chick in the egg? She looked back at Meg and Thorn , but

  Taller was already walking up the platform and she couldn ' t afford to

  miss the subtle indentations where he was placing his feet . She asked

  the stilts to collapse , and of course, they refused . When they finally obeyed, they folded so fast she was thrown forward , nearly fell, and

  barely recovered in time to step off onto the platform.

  "Are you all ri ght , Good Eyes?" Taller asked as he and Weaver pee re d down from the top of the platform.

  Tesa glanced over at Meg and Thorn, both of them t ry ing to swallow

  worry and amusement . " I'm fine . Really."

  " Puff never did well on those things," Taller signed. "He

  thought they were alive and had a grudge against him." Tesa gri nned ,

  hugely re lieved . " I must ' ve got his pair." She sta rt ed up, le tt ing her buoyancy steady her , ca re fully placing each foot before lifting the next. The reeds we re slick and one wrong move would send her sliding

  into the marsh . Finally, Tesa followed Weaver and Taller through the

  narrow slit that was the shelter's entrance.

  The first thing that caught her attention was Terran. Hanging randomly f ro

  m the steeply angled roof were a dozen different sets of glass wind

  chimes. Long rays of sunlight slanted through the re ed walls and

  glinted off gleaming c ry stals, casting dancing rainbows eve ry where.

  When Rob Gable had told her about them , her re action had been

  negative , but now her feelings changed . These were a rt istically created, perfect c ry stals handcut by masters. She imagined they were

  perfectly tuned as well.

  Each one had a legend writt en on it . The closest was in Gaelic and

  English , with drawings of Grus signs beneath. It re ad, "To our f ri ends, the people of Trinity . In gratitude for your magnificent gift, your f ri ends across space , the people of Waterford, Ireland, send a token of

  appreciation . May the skies ri se up to meet you and the wind be ever at your back."

  Pulling her attention away, Tesa su rv eyed the rest of the shelter . The
atmosphere was warm and humid, but the air smelled sweet , like cut

  grass . A pa rt ially finished cloak w as rolled against one wall , its warp and woof fibers trailing into a ro ugh ball . Flat woven containers and mats were stacked neatly by it. Bundles of long feathers hung from the

  walls, as did sheafs of colorful grasses , and a mesh bag of woven

  grass filled with sho rt, fluffy feathers and down.

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  SILENT DANCES 101 Tesa was dazzled by crisscrossed shafts of light and

  bouncing

  colors. She squinted, focusing on the walls that were almost obscured by the

  dancing rainbows, realizing that some of the patterns weren't moving.

  Moving closer to the wall, she suddenly saw that it was alive with vibrantly

  colored designs, so intricate they incorporated sunbeams and even the wind

  chimes' rainbows into their imagery. The outside had looked haphazard

  because it was the wrong side of a woven picture.

  I'm the first human who's ever seen this, she thought excitedly, glancing at

  the forgotten voder on her wrist. It was faithfully recording, cramming

  everything she was seeing into billions of bits of information she could

  analyze later. Wait'll you see this , "Uncle Bruce"!

  "Who made this?" she asked Taller, touching the walls. "It's my design,

  executed by Weaver. We think it's our best-but at our age, we should have

  some proficiency."

  Tesa stared at the designs avidly. "It's wonderful!"

  " I'm glad you like our story-walls."

  " Story-walls?" Tesa asked.

  "These images teach the chick about the beauty of the World and its

  dangers, too." He pointed to something above her head. "For example,

  here's the story of the Beautiful But Deadly Fish. It's easier to see in the

  morning, because it relies on the first light to bring out the sparkling water

  and the gleaming fish."

  Tesa peered at the spot. "Show me the fish."

  "Here," he pointed. "And this is the sickly chick who hasn't heeded his

  parents' advice and eaten the deadly fish."

  Tesa could barely make out what might be a drooping neck and two legs,

  but most of the picture eluded her, and she was damned if she could see any

  fish. Well, the symbolism of a Two Gray Hills rug could be obscure unless

  you knew what to look for.

  "Good Eyes," Taller signed, "come into the nest, please." She looked where he indicated, at the center of the shelter. The heart of this structure was a

  large nest, wide and almost flat, with a glittering, woven cloak heaped at the

  bottom of its gentle bowl shape. The centralized nest reminded her of the

  Sepapu or Earth Navel, the holy place in Pueblo kivas.

  Weaver was hock-sitting on the rim, staring at the cloak. Taller stepped into

  the bowl, positioning his huge feet with utmost care on either side of the

  cloak, then settled carefully

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  onto his hocks. "Puff said that he and Meg were like family," Taller signed .

  " Humans make families easily?"

  " I guess we do ," Tesa admi tt ed.

  Taller looked at Weaver. " In all the World there's nothing as impo rt ant as the family , but our families are always the same . Two pa re nts focus all our ca re and love on a single child until it ' s grown and gone its way into the World . Then it's no longer our child , but a f ri end , so we can focus on the next child."

  He and Weaver locked eyes, though he signed to Tesa. "In all the histo ri

  es of the White Wind people , the Gray Wind, or our cousins across the

  World , there have never been more than two parents to raise one

  child . Now, all that changes."

  Tesa paid rapt attention as the avian turn ed to her.

  "We're too old, Weaver and I, to be having children ," Taller signed . " In truth , I'm too old to lead my people ... however, I do still lead them .

  Some of them feel this child was sent by the Moon Family , as

  reparation for losing Water Dancer."

  "It's just the kind of reparation the Moon Family would send," Weaver

  signed bitterly.

  "Gifts from the moons," Taller told Tesa , " are mixed blessings. Children make you see the World anew , the way they see it . But, the child of an aging leader with no mature male offsp ri ng in his territo ry is not just any child . I'd devoted the last twenty years of my life to teaching Water

  Dancer to be the leader I am, a leader as my own father was. Will I have

  another twen ty years to give to the child in this egg?"

  The white avian gave Tesa the full force of his stare. "If this child is a gift fro m the Moons, then it's possible we may not live to see his matu ri ty . If that happens , it will be up to you to see him safely through to

  adulthood."

  ME? Tesa' s mind reeled . This was going far beyond anything she'd lea rn ed at StarB ri dge . Calm down , she scolded herself. Scott would agree in a second . Can you let him down?

  "You see, the Moon Family can't affect you," Taller told her conspirato ri ally , " because you ' re not of the World."

  " I understand ," Tesa signed , mo re confidently than she felt. "I know that you can ' t hear ," Taller signed, after a brief pause , " but, tell me , can you make sounds?"

  Tesa hesitated. " Not like you ' re used to hearing." Taller ' s gesture seemed like a shrug . " All the sounds humans

  103

  SILENT DANCES 103 make are unlike those I'm used to hea ri ng . Can

  you lea rn new sounds?"

  This was her weakest area. " What kind?"

  "The brood sound the parent makes to the chick. You must speak to him

  now, so that he'll know you when he hatches." So, you really do speak to the chick . " I'll need your help.

  I can use this"-- Tesa indicated the voder- -" to show me how to match the pitch , but I'll still have tòfeel ' it in your throat." She tapped a code into the voder and the screen came to life with flicke ri ng patte rn s.

  "That ' s an image of the wind chimes' noise." She tuned them out .

  "Okay, I'm ready."

  Taller took her hand in his feathered one. Tesa was fascinated by his

  incredibly long, flat digits . They looked more like jointed feathers than

  useful fingers, and the tiny, fine black feathers cove ri ng them we re

  like stiff, wi ry hairs.

  Casually, he drew her h an d to his chest, pulling it under his soft , white feathers as he pressed her fingers against his keel. "Feel the sound

  here ," he signed . He placed her other hand where his throat met his bill . " And here."

  His skin was hot to the touch, and so thin she could feel his ri gid , ri bbed tr achea . On his keel, the feathers beneath the long surface ones were

  sho rt an d fluffy , trapping the incredible heat that radiated through his thin skin. His brood call rumbled against Tesa ' s finge rt ips like a combination of Bast ' s purr and a dog ' s low growl . It was oddly comfo rt ing.

  Tesa looked at the sound patt e rn s she'd have to match to imitate that

  purr . She t ri ed it once , timidly , then stronger. "Good ," Taller signed , encouragingly . " T ry again." They did it together , while Tesa watched their patterns become more and more alike. So speech therapy was good

  for something after all, she thought with w ry amusement. " That ' s fine ,"

  Taller told her.

  Weaver man ipulated the cloak with her bill. There in the center lay the

  uncovered egg. Tesa could have held it easily in two hands . It was

  oblong , its base color a soft grayish green, speckled in brown and red

  splotches - perfect camouflage against a bare nest . It almost seemed a rt ificial.

>   Tesa glanced at her voder. Weaver was pur ri ng at the egg, and it rocked

  in answer to her voice . There really w as something alive in there . The Indi an wom an felt a flush of excitement.

  "Touch the egg," Weaver signed to her. "Speak to him."

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  Touch it? Tesa thought ne rv ously . Gently she cradled the egg, feeling its living warmth, the porcelainlike texture of its shell. An irregular

  tapping tickled her palms. We're family, now, hoksila, little boy , Tesa thought to the egg . We're blood, you and I ... She became aware of a thin, faint thudding that was the chick ' s heart be at . The heartbeat of the World. It was a drumbe at that her body wanted to tu rn into a flash of dancing. ... This child '... is not just any child ...

  Tesa felt she was the center of a hunka lowanpi-a makingofrelatives

  ceremony. B ri nging her face near the egg, she purred . The vibrations against her hand grew stronger . The egg rocked . He was answe ri ng her! She prayed , ending it with the traditional phrase , mitakuye oyasin

  - all my relatives--the phrase that tied her people to their world and all beings in it.

  Then the egg rocked hard against her hands and suddenly cracked! Tesa

  pulled her hands away as though she'd be en bu rn ed . Oh, God, did I do that?

  Taller and Weaver hovered over the egg. Near its large end was a tiny

  spiderweb crack, shaped like a star . The two avians leaped up , threw back their heads , and called loud and long.

  Taller ' s golden eyes were round in delight as he finished his call. "He '

  s pipped !" he signed to the human. "What a wonderful sign for our new kind of family."

  Weaver moved to cover the egg with her body, but Taller blocked her.

  Carefully, the avian leader eased himself onto the egg, chest first ,

  adjusting his breast feathers until the egg was warmed by his body.

  Weaver hovered anxiously over him. This close to the hatching , she

  would only stop incubating when he insisted . Convincing her to eat

  was another matter.

  "Did you know the chick would pip tonight?" Good Eyes asked . Her sta rt ling eyes were as wide as Taller had ever seen them.

  "I thought, perhaps--but he's early . Early chicks are strong--eager to see the World , impatient to get on with life." He said that for Weaver's

  benefit . She needed this chick to recover from Water Dancer ' s death and the desecration of his body . Though really , she had handled that be tt er than he had.