by IGMS
Phil spoke up from where he was leaning against the door frame. "Something else, boss. No bear could have brought a rifle to Eden. Someone would have noticed."
Bertram agreed and said, "We'll just have to wait until the others finish searching the hunters' equipment and report back."
They didn't have to wait long. The wardens came straggling in, each with nothing concrete to report. Bertram looked over their lists and felt everything slipping away. He couldn't find anything suspicious either. Suddenly he began flipping through the lists again. "Who checked Miss Murphy's equipment?"
All the wardens looked embarrassed. "Well," said one. "She kind of scares us."
"You guys have faced bears and you're frightened of a middle-aged woman?" Bertram sighed and said, "Okay, I'll handle it."
He was knocking on Miss Murphy's door five minutes later. Her maid opened the door and after checking with Miss Murphy, let him inside.
"What seems to be the problem, Warden Foss?" asked Miss Murphy.
"There's been a murder. One of the wardens was killed a few hours ago. We're checking everyone's equipment as part of the investigation."
Miss Murphy was silent for a moment and then asked, "Which warden was it?"
"Ferl Harra. I don't know if you had met him, but . . ."
Miss Murphy looked angry. "I had him in my sights once. He was the only bear that I ever shot at and only wounded. If someone killed Ferl, it was an ambush and not a hunt. He was a sportsman."
She pointed at the two rifles racked by the door. "Help yourself, Warden. And when you find the killer, I want to know."
Bertram looked over the rifles as a matter of form. His real concern was the other pieces of equipment that Miss Murphy had brought.
One caught his eye and he called, "Miss Murphy, where is your third rifle?"
She came hurrying over. "Third rifle? I only brought my main rifle and a spare in case of problems."
Bertram pointed at the hard rifle cases stacked by the wall. "Three cases, but only two rifles. I need to know what happened to the third one."
Miss Murphy was stunned. "But that's not one of mine. My rifles and cases all come from Richardson's on Earth. That's an off-the-shelf case." She turned and called, "Darcy! Now where did that girl go?"
There was no sign of the maid, and the door was standing open. Bertram pulled the radio from his belt and said into it, "This is Foss. Find and detain Miss Murphy's maid, Darcy Roberts, on suspicion of murder."
The words were barely out of his mouth when Phil and Harry escorted Darcy back into the room. Each had hold of one of her arms as she struggled against returning.
"Thought you might need some backup, boss," said Phil.
Harry grinned and added, "Caught her at the fire stairs door."
Bertram keyed his radio again. "All wardens. Cancel last transmission. Suspect is in custody." He thought a moment and sent, "Bertram to Berak. Suggest you take those two bears that killed the Earth Firsters into custody."
Berak's reply crackled from the speaker, "Already done. We'll meet you in my office."
As Phil and Harry took Darcy out, Bertram held up a hand to stop Miss Murphy from following. "Sorry, Miss Murphy, but this is official business."
She looked icily at him. "That woman used me to smuggle in a weapon. She helped kill a bear that I respected. I will be there when you question her."
"Ah, damn it, Gerri. Don't do this to me."
"Bert, we go back a long way. When Mary was alive, she was my closest friend. You're the one that taught me to shoot. You know me, Bert. Now do you think you're going to win this argument?"
Bertram bowed to the inevitable. "Okay, come on. But be quiet in there." He grinned. "If that's possible for you."
Miss Murphy smiled and lightly hit him on the arm as she walked past him. He followed her down the hall, shaking his head.
Berak had his two suspects waiting in his office with two of his wardens watching each of them. Even though the room was four times the size of Bertram's, it was crowded with the three suspects, the wardens, and Miss Murphy.
Bertram took Phil's spot and directed him to test Darcy for residue. The ex-investigator took a kit out of his pocket and opened it to reveal several vials and some swabs.
He opened up a vial, soaked a swab in it, and then began dabbing the solution over Darcy's hands. After about thirty seconds, he grunted, "She's clean."
Berak called him over to the two bears. "If you would be so good as to repeat the test on these two."
The bears started struggling, but were held tight by the wardens. Phil pulled out two different vials and opened them. Then he clipped off hairs from each bear's paws with a small pair of scissors and dropped the hairs into separate vials.
A few seconds passed and then the liquid in each vial started turning green. One was distinctly lighter than the other and Phil nodded over his work.
"That one." He pointed at the young bear that had made trouble the evening before. "That one is the actual shooter. The other didn't fire the weapon, but he was there and picked up some of the residue on his hair."
Phil took up his place at Darcy's side and Bertram stood facing the maid. "Want to tell us about it?"
The mild, self-effacing maid's face suddenly turned flushed and angry as she hissed, "You're going to slaughter me anyway, so it doesn't matter." She drew herself up proudly. "You are all hunters, killers. We knew that if a human killed the nephew of one of the bears' council members, we could shut down this organized murder of intelligent beings."
Bertram looked over at Berak. "We were so busy worrying about Earth First and the Den of the Claw that we forgot about the People for Extra-Terrestrial Accord."
Berak growled at Darcy and asked, "If you believe us to be sentient, why did you assist in Ferl Harra's murder?"
"It wasn't murder," she snapped. "It was justice. It was the execution of someone who willingly participated in the murders of dozens of his own kind."
"I notice that you don't seem too concerned about the deaths of the humans killed here," Bertram commented.
"That's different. They're human." The girl's anger gave way to a pleading look. "Look, don't you understand? Humans are the real problem. If humans weren't around, the bears could live in peace."
"You're human," Bertram reminded her gently.
"And I wish I wasn't," she said, her anger returning.
"Were the two Earth Firsters killed before or after Berak?"
"Before," said Darcy and smiled. "They thought that I was a Firster as well. Imagine their surprise when they reached the trees where my comrades were waiting." She actually chuckled as she said, "I even recorded one's scream so we could play it later when we wanted you to find them."
Bertram stared at the girl who could be so concerned about non-humans, but could gleefully aid in killing two of her own race.
The two chief wardens turned away from Darcy to speak privately. Miss Murphy's voice brought their attention back to the girl.
"One question that the wardens failed to ask, and that is of importance to me, is what happened to Belinda?"
Darcy sneered. "She served a killer. That made her a killer. She's already paid for her crimes."
Miss Murphy's backhand across the girl's face made the wardens wince. It was delivered with every ounce of strength the older woman had and they could hear facial bones crunch from the impact.
Darcy started sobbing as she fell back against Phil and Harry. Miss Murphy looked down at her hand and said, "Pity, I've bruised a knuckle."
Bertram swore under his breath and said, "Miss Murphy! Strike the prisoner again and I'll have to bring you up on charges."
"It might be worth it, Warden, but I'll behave."
Berak confronted the two bears. "Den of the Claw." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," the one who had done the shooting. "My name is Karn Lerri, and I am proud of what I have done in the name of our people."
"You're proud of shooting one of our people
in the back and trying to blame it on the humans?" Berak shook his massive head. "I cannot understand your thinking anymore than I can the human female's."
Karn looked at Berak in disgust. "I wouldn't expect a traitor to understand. This death could have brought an end to the dishonorable treaty forced on our people and allowed us to exterminate the humans."
"And who gave you the right to speak for our race? I didn't. The council didn't. As far as I know, no one has given you the right to speak for the race."
Berak turned away suddenly. "Enough of this. I call for a full trial before the wardens."
The trial was held in the bar, it being the only room large enough to hold all the wardens at once. Humans and bears mingled freely, not caring that their neighbors were of a different race.
The verdict was a foregone conclusion, but the punishment took an unusual turn. When Bertram and Berak announced how the three would be hunted down in the preserve, Darcy started laughing.
"No bear will hunt me," she said. "I'm female and I won't be carrying a weapon. So they can't hunt me according to their own laws."
Berak looked upset, but had to agree. No male bear could hunt an unarmed female of child-bearing age without breaking both law and tradition.
Miss Murphy spoke up from where she was sitting in a corner. "I invoke Ma'ak Koberk!"
There was a murmur of surprise that Bertram waved to silence. Berak crossed the room to loom over Miss Murphy.
"How is it that you call Clan Right on this female?"
She reached into her blouse and pulled a medallion out. "When I wounded Ferl, I didn't kill him. He made it back to the lodge and survived. He told me that no other human had come that close to him and that I must be a bear at heart. His clan agreed and I was formally adopted."
Berak studied the medallion. "It is Clan Harra's seal," he announced to the room. "I say that Ma'ak Koberk is hers to claim. Do any object?"
None of the bears objected, and Berak bowed to Miss Murphy and said, "If Clan Harra confirms your status, I will gladly certify you as her executioner."
Miss Murphy looked at the trembling Darcy and sweetly said, "There's a place reserved for you in Hell, dear."
Hunting was suspended two days later for the executions. None of the hunters objected. They all gathered outside the lodge at the landing pad where the transports waited to take the killers into the preserve.
The bears were led out first. Following the law, both had been completely depilated so that they would no longer have the natural protection of their pelts. Their claws and teeth had been dulled, leaving them almost defenseless.
Male members of Ferl's clan lined the walkway to the transport. Once the pair was led through the gauntlet of glaring eyes and bared fangs, they were met at the transport's ramp by Berak and two other bears,
Berak faced the prisoners and said, "Karn Lerri and Perr Lerri. Here stand your executioners." He waved one of the two forward. "This is Garl Harra, father of Ferl." The other bear stepped forward and Berak continued, "This is Karr Harra, Member of the Council and uncle of Ferl."
The pair stepped back and Berak announced, "You will be taken into the preserve and released. Your executioners will begin the hunt twenty minutes after that." The warden's voice grew harsh as he made the formal declaration. "You have killed as animals, without honor. Now you will be killed as animals, knowing that no animal comes to the Sacred Caves."
He turned to the wardens escorting the prisoners and said, "Get them out of here."
Bertram and Phil stood to the side. Phil leaned over and whispered, "That's Ferl's uncle that they expected to come out in favor of the Den?"
Bertram nodded. "And now he's taken a stand against them and everything they preach. I think Ferl would be pleased about that."
The transport lifted off and returned less than an hour later. Berak was surprised to see Ferl's father and uncle carry the body of one of the condemned bears down the ramp.
"Which one?" Berak asked.
"Perr Lerri. He did not run," explained Ferl's father. "He chose to stand and face us. He died fighting as one of the people and not as an animal. We choose to return his body that it be sent to his clan with honor."
The bears' chief warden nodded his agreement. He directed two of his wardens to take the body away and then stepped away to rejoin the other bears.
Bertram sighed and walked over to stand by the transport. He wasn't looking forward to the next few minutes, but the time had come for Darcy to be brought out and it was his job to announce the sentence.
She was half-dragged, half-carried between the two rows of bears. She was nude and because the law made no distinction between humans and bears, had also been depilated.
Another group might have been whistling or making obscene comments as she was led along, but there was none of that from the human hunters watching. Bertram suspected that their angry silence was far worse for Darcy than any catcalls would have been. At least then she would have had their affirmation of her as a woman and could have taken that with her. The silence stretched on instead, broken only by her terrified whimpers as she approached the transport.
Bertram told Darcy the same thing that Berak had told the bears and then called Miss Murphy forward. Darcy completely collapsed when the woman faced her across the ramp. Instead of her usual rifle, the huntress carried a quiver with several throwing spears and wore a heavy knife on her belt.
As the condemned woman entered the transport, Bertram heard Miss Murphy say, "Belinda was my friend as well as my maid. Ferl Harra was my friend too. I intend to do right by them, my dear."
The transport lifted, leaving Bertram and Berak to watch it vanish over the preserve. "Kipling was right," observed the human, half to himself.
"Kipling?" asked Berak.
Bertram looked at his friend and said, "A great poet on Earth. One of his most famous poems says that the female of any species is more deadly than her male counterpart."
"A wise man. I think I would like to read some of this Kipling's work."
It was two months later that the season ended. Hunters had come to kill or be killed. Of the survivors, some had left maimed and some had left whole. Trophies had been taken by both races and the rest of the bodies returned to families on Earth or Karfern, the bears' home world. And somehow the wardens had made it through the weeks since Ferl's death.
The transports had finally gone, and Bertram and Berak were the last two people at the lodge. They were sharing a drink when Berak looked up at the four heads hanging over the bar and said, "The eyes are gone again from one of your object lessons. Both of them this time."
Bertram looked up and nodded. "I'm thinking about moving the heads over to the balcony so I don't have to keep dragging the ladder across the room."
"You had best lay in a good supply of replacements for next season. It seems they are popular keepsakes."
"For both bears and humans," agreed Bertram, as he looked up at the eyeless head of Darcy Roberts, hanging next to that of Karn Lerri and the two others who had killed wardens in the past.
The Fringe
by Orson Scott Card
Artwork by Scott Altmann
LaVon's book report was drivel, of course. Carpenter knew it would be from the moment he called on the boy. After Carpenter's warning last week, he knew LaVon would have a book report -- LaVon's father would never let the boy be suspended. But LaVon was too stubborn, too cocky, too much the leader of the other sixth-graders' constant rebellion against the authority to let Carpenter have a complete victory.
"I really, truly loved Little Men," said LaVon. "It just gave me goose bumps."
The class laughed. Excellent comic timing, Carpenter said silently. But the only place that comedy is useful here in the New Soil country is with the gypsy pageant wagons. That's what you're preparing yourself for, LaVon, a career as a wandering parasite who lives by sucking laughter out of weary farmers.
"Everybody nice in this book has a name that starts with a d.
Demi is a sweet little boy who never does anything wrong. Daisy is so good that she could have seven children and still be a virgin."
He was pushing the limits now. A lot of people didn't like mention of sexual matters in the school, and if some pin-headed child decided to report this, the story could be twisted into something that could be used against Carpenter. Out here near the fringe, people were desperate for entertainment. A crusade to drive out a teacher for corrupting the morals of youth would be more fun than a traveling show, because everybody could feel righteous and safe when he was gone. Carpenter had seen it before. Not that he was afraid of it, the way most teachers were. He had a career no matter what. The university would take him back, eagerly; they thought he was crazy to go out and teach in the low schools. I'm safe, absolutely safe, he thought. They can't wreck my career. And I'm not going to get prissy about a perfectly good word like virgin.
"Dan looks like a big bad boy, but he has a heart of gold, even though he does say real bad words like devil sometimes." LaVon paused, waiting for Carpenter to react. So Carpenter did not react.
"The saddest thing is poor Nat, the street fiddler's boy. He tries hard to fit in, but he can never amount to anything in the book, because his name doesn't start with d."
The end. LaVon put the single paper on Carpenter's desk, then went back to his seat. He walked with the careful elegance of a spider, each long leg moving as if it were unconnected to the rest of his body, so that even walking did not disturb the perfect calm. The boy rides on his body the way I ride in my wheelchair, thought Carpenter. Smooth, unmoved by his own motion. But he is graceful and beautiful, fifteen years old and already a master at winning the devotion of the weak-hearted children around him. He is the enemy, the torturer, the strong and beautiful man who must confirm his beauty by preying on the weak. I am not as weak as you think.
LaVon's book report was arrogant, far too short, and flagrantly rebellious. That much was deliberate, calculated to annoy Carpenter. Therefore Carpenter would not show the slightest trace of annoyance. The book report had also been clever, ironic, and funny. The boy, for all his mask of languor and stupidity, had brains. He was better than this farming town; he could do something that mattered in the world besides driving a tractor in endless contour patterns around the fields. But the way he always had the Fisher girl hanging on him, he'd no doubt have a baby and a wife and stay here forever. Become a big shot like his father, maybe, but never leave a mark in the world to show he'd been there. Tragic, stupid waste.