Treecat Wars

by David Weber

  And in this image, Keen Eyes thought he smelled one mind more mad than all the rest—the stress-corrupted mind of Swimmer’s Scourge.

  Struggling to retain his own identity, Keen Eyes stretched his mind-voice to touch that of Nimble Fingers.

  Then he bunched his muscles for a great leap, seeking with all his power to separate the voice of Swimmer’s Scourge from the mind-glow storm that swirled in many-colored emotions around him.

  He found the mind-glow he sought. Swimmer’s Scourge was wild with glee as he tore into Tiny Choir’s mother, battering her not only with fangs and claws, but with a determination that she understand that neither she nor her kittens deserved to live, anathema as they were in a land strained beyond the ability to support them.

 

  The images were nearly more than Keen Eyes could bear. He leapt forth, stretching his limbs to their utmost, six sets of claws extending to rend and tear. He hit his mark, felt blood flow, drowned in insanity beyond his comprehension.

  Yet Keen Eyes struggled to retain a thread of sanity, fought for his clan but also for Trees Enfolding Clan, fought for the hope of the reconciliation that had seemed possible a bare moment before.

  His mouth wet with a Person’s blood, matted with fur, Keen Eyes felt Swimmer’s Scourge’s voice fade down the dark trails towards unconsciousness. Yet the reverberations of his insanity could not be so easily quieted. The battle storm raged around where they were entangled.

  Keen Eyes did not know who hit him, whether one or many. His pain was a wind howl within a storm of fear and suffering.

  The blackness that took him would have been welcome, but for the regret that he had failed.

  * * *

  “I think Mom’s gotten to depend on us to make this run,” Jessica laughed as she picked Anders up. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I really don’t,” Anders said, sliding into the air car next to her and presenting a piece of celery to Valiant by way of greeting. “Ever since the x-a’s arrived, Dad’s whole team’s been incredibly focused. It’s not that I don’t like anthropology, but there are times I seriously need a break.”

  Valiant bleeked thanks to Anders and hopped into the back seat where he could eat his celery without dripping all over Jessica. Jessica set the car on course and leaned back in her seat.

  “Mom asked if I’d expand my collecting zone. She wants samples of plants from the surrounding area to compare with those in the regrowth regions.”

  “That makes lots of sense,” Anders replied. “Want to start today? The weather’s really nice.”

  “You wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to bore you.”

  “Hey, Jess, take it easy. You never bore me.”

  “I . . .” Jessica leaned forward and made an unnecessary adjustment to the air car’s controls. “I guess I’ve wondered . . . Worried. I mean, you’re used to Stephanie. She’s so much more interesting. I mean, look at this class she’s taking, the people she’s meeting . . . I’m just not in that league.”

  Impulsively, Anders reached out and laid a hand lightly on Jessica’s shoulder. “Jess . . . Stephanie is great, really great. I have a lot of fun with her, but she’s pretty intense, too. You’re interesting, but you’re not as intense.”

  “I get it,” Jessica replied, and there was no ignoring the bitterness in her voice. “Stephanie’s like a strong, sparkly jazzberry soda. I’m sort of like warm milk.”

  Anders was all too aware that his hand was still on her shoulder, but he felt that if he pulled it away, she’d take it as a rejection. He left it there, trying not to think about how nice it would be to slide over little closer, to put his arm around her. Jessica was taller than Stephanie and usually seemed so balanced and mature. Right now, she seemed small and delicate, very much in need of reassurance.

  He drew in a deep breath. “Jessica, you’re not like warm milk. I don’t like warm milk, and I do like you. So, just stop it.”

  Jessica gave an unsteady laugh. “Sorry, I guess. I shouldn’t be fishing for compliments from you of all people. It’s just been a hard time with Tiddles sick. Did I tell you Dad almost got himself laid off again? He stayed home to take care of Tiddles and sort of forgot to call in. There are times I don’t know why Mom puts up with him.”

  She sighed. Valiant bleeked from the backseat, then leapt gracefully up to pat his human comfortingly on the cheek before sliding down into her lap. Anders decided that the treecat had given him a good excuse to remove his own hand and did so, but he was amazed at how reluctant he was.

  It can’t be because Stephanie’s been away. I mean, it’s not like I’m that desperate. It’s just that Jessica is . . . She’s really so sweet. She’s always doing stuff for other people. I’d like . . . I’d like to do something for her, something to show her she’s appreciated. Her dad doesn’t appreciate her, and her mom relies on her too much to really appreciate . . .

  His thoughts spiraled off into an uncomfortable muddle, not helped in the least by the fact that he thought Valiant was eyeing him in an amused fashion. Anders knew he was reading human expressions into that furred face, but still, there was something in the angle of the whiskers and cant of the ears . . .

  He realized the silence had been going on uncomfortably long and grabbed for the first thing he could think of.

  “I guess your mom puts up with your dad because she loves him. Love makes people do some really incredible things. I mean, I sometimes wonder why my mom stays with my dad. He so obsessed, and it’s not as if being married to a college professor does anything for her career. But when he got into trouble, she was right by his side, fierce as a neo-tiger. I’m pretty sure he’d have gotten into a lot more trouble with the university without her connections.”

  “Love . . .” Jessica said musingly. “It makes as much sense as anything. I can’t figure out why people love each other. Sometimes it seems like a pretty lousy way for a species to perpetuate itself. People in love make the dumbest mistakes. Mom should have married a nice man who could have given her stability. People who like plants need to put down roots.”

  “But maybe,” Anders countered, thinking of how Buddy Pheriss had confronted Duff DeWitt, “maybe what your mom wanted was someone who’d keep her from getting—well, like pot-bound. You know how they say ‘opposites attract.’”

  Jessica laughed without any tension this time. “Well, my folks could be the illustration for that one. I don’t think I’m like my mom, though. I don’t want someone I’d always have to worry about. I want someone who’s steady in a crisis, someone who isn’t well, a charming mercurial flake like Dad.”

  She said the words so firmly that Anders almost asked if she had anyone specific in mind. He swallowed the question before it could come out, realizing he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

  And why not? Shouldn’t you help her out? Maybe you could act as a go-between. Or is it that you don’t want to know because you’re afraid of the answer for some other reason?

  Now Anders was sure Valiant was studying him quizzically and realized he was blushing. Bad enough that he could barely shape a coherent thought without some alien running private commentary.

  “Well,” he said a bit lamely, “at least you think your dad is charming. That’s better than hating him for what he’s put your family through.”

  “Good point,” Jessica said. “Tell me about your mom. You’ve got the advantage on me. You met both my parents. I’ve only met your dad.”

  Anders was grateful for the change of subject, even if he suspected that once again Jessica was displaying her talent for thinking of others, this time to his advantage. He launched in, determined to be amusing at least.

  His stories of his mother’s rise in politics and how she’d made an effort to be an attentive mother despite the demands of her career kept t
hem occupied for the rest of the trip. He was finishing up his story when the autopilot shifted to landing mode.

  “So there’s Mom at this function for the foreign ambassador, but with her mind on my birthday. When they struck up the national anthem, she started singing the Birthday Song, instead. She lucked out, though. Turns out it was the ambassador’s wife’s birthday and everyone thought Mom had been really up on her research. She told us the truth later though. . . .”

  Jessica brought the car around to a landing in their usual spot at the edge of the burned-out forest. “She sounds great. You must miss her a lot.”

  “I do, but . . . Well . . .” Anders got out of the car and headed to help Jessica unload equipment. “It’s not like my family’s ever been like yours or Stephanie’s. If we eat a meal together, it’s maybe once a week, and that’s scheduled. I’m used to scattered contact.”

  Jessica nodded understanding. “Want to take the images? Coordinates are preloaded if you have any doubts as to which plant we want. I’ll do the soil samples and moisture readings.”

  “Right.”

  They did the first set of readings, then moved to a new area, closer to the tree line.

  “We’ll go into that stretch of forest when we’re done,” Jessica said. “I spotted a clearing from the air where we can land. That should be a good place to get the samples Mom asked for.”

  “Good with me.”

  They hadn’t even set down in the new location when Valiant showed every evidence of great agitation.

  “I wonder if he smells a predator or something?” Anders asked, reaching nervously to make sure his handgun was where it should be. “We’re high enough we could be in the lower parts of peak bear territory. Hexapumas are all over this area.”

  Jessica shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like that. Valiant’s eager but apprehensive. That’s not how he reacts when he smells something dangerous.”

  She settled the air car on the ground and Valiant sprang out as soon as she opened the door. He bleeked urgently at Jessica, then sprinted off.

  Jessica tore off after him, not even pausing to shut the door. Anders did so, thinking of all the nasty Sphinxian wildlife that otherwise might come in to investigate. Then he rushed after.

  They were in a picketwood area, so the understory was mostly open, without a great deal of scrub growth. Anders followed the flashes of blue and yellow that were Jessica’s shirt. About a hundred meters into the forest, she cried out.

  “Anders! Get my med kit from the car. We found another treecat. This one’s badly hurt, but still alive!”

  15

  Anders found Jessica and Valiant crouched on the ground next to a bloodsoaked treecat. Valiant was making loud, rough purrs, but Anders thought the ’cat was anxious, not happy.

  “This ’cat’s hurt, badly hurt,” Jessica said, accepting the med kit without looking up from her patient. “But he’s not dead.”

  “What can I do?” Anders asked.

  “Not much, right now,” Jessica said, her hands already busy pulling out a spray anesthetic. “Cover us. Whatever did this might still be around.”

  Anders obeyed. He found himself wishing that Stephanie or Karl were there. Not only would they have a better idea what type of creature might have done this, but Lionheart might have something to offer. Valiant certainly wasn’t much help. He remained crouching by the wounded treecat as if his thrumming purr might help the other hold on to life.

  And it might, Anders admitted to himself. I have no idea how treecats work.

  A flick of motion ahead and to the left caught his attention. For a moment, he thought it might have been caused by another ’cat. Then he realized it was nothing so large. Some sort of bugs were darting over a huddled shape on the ground. He pulled out his binoculars. What he saw made him gasp.

  “Jessica! There’s another treecat about ten meters to the east. I think this one’s dead for sure.”

  Jessica continued her frantic labors. “Take a look? Or do you want to wait until I can go with you?”

  “I’ll go,” Anders said. He unholstered his gun, slung the binoculars around his neck, and marched toward the still figure. The bugs scattered when he got close, but he saw that they’d been clustered on a gaping hole in the treecat’s thick throat fur.

  “Definitely dead,” he called back. “And definitely not disease. Something tore his throat out.”

  Her response was calm and resigned. “This one’s been attacked, too. Do you suppose they went after a hexapuma—like Lionheart’s clan did to rescue Stephanie—only this time they weren’t so lucky?”

  “Maybe,” Anders agreed. “I’m going to scout around a bit, see if I can find a body or something.”

  He did, but the body he found was not that of a hexapuma. Instead, it was another treecat, this one a brown and white female, very slender and incredibly pathetic in death. A few steps further, he found another body—this time a male.

  Anders might not be an expert tracker like Stephanie or Karl, but his time with his father’s anthropological crew had made him sensitive to detail.

  “Jess, I think you might be right about the treecats going after a hexapuma or something. There’s a lot of damage here, both on the ground and up in the trees as well. The area gets more torn up the farther I go.”

  “Did you find what they were fighting?”

  “No sign. Maybe it got away. Maybe these ’cats weren’t as good at fighting as Lionheart’s clan. How’s your patient?”

  “I think I have him stabilized, but he needs more help than I can give him. Normally, I’d take him to Dr. Richard, but—”

  She shrugged and Anders bit his lip. What a time for Stephanie’s parents to be off Sphinx!

  “I don’t know if we should take him to the clinic,” he said. “Dr. Saleem is good, but I’m not sure how much he knows about treecats. He’d have the files, but I don’t think he’s done much hands-on work. Dr. Richard always handled the treecats himself. What about Scott MacDallan? Stephanie told me Dr. Richard’s been sharing all of his notes with Scott, and he treated Fisher himself after the two of them first met. Is your car up to a flight to Thunder River?”

  Jessica nodded. “It’ll take a bit longer than it does in Karl’s car. My junker just can’t go as fast. I’ll have to com Mom, though. What should I tell her?”

  Anders noticed that without having discussed it, both of them were already agreed that the injured treecat—and three dead ones—were not matters for general discussion. The x-a’s would probably insist on seeing the injured treecat and poking it, no matter how hurt it—no, he—was. Heck, Anders couldn’t even be sure Dad would keep off!

  “Stephanie’s a big fan of telling the truth,” he said, “just leaving out the awkward parts. Let’s do that. Tell your mom we found an injured treecat and that we think Scott would be the best person to treat it. Ask her to keep it to herself.”

  “I think she’d do that,” Jessica agreed, “especially given how those x-a’s were looking for dirt on Valiant. She’d understand the need to protect this one.”

  Naomi Pheriss did indeed understand. “Take your time, Jessica. Call if you decide to stay the night in Thunder River, all right?”

  Anders called his dad, too, but Dr. Whitaker was—as usual—too distracted by his work to worry about why his seventeen-year-old son might not be home until late or the next day. “Have fun with your friends,” he said.

  “I suppose,” Anders said after he’d disconnected “we should call Scott and warn him we’re coming. We should probably have called him before we called our folks.”

  “Yeah, and given Scott a chance to tell us to take this poor fellow to the clinic in Twin Forks, instead,” Jessica added.

  But MacDallan made no such suggestion. Instead, the redhaired doctor asked Anders and Jessica for any details they could give and viewed images of his future patient over the uni-link.

  “I’ll have a treatment room ready,” he promised. “Call again when you’re about f
ifteen minutes out.”

  “We will,” Anders promised. “And thanks for helping out on such short notice.”

  When Anders disconnected, he helped Jessica clear a spot in the rear seat of the air car and settle in the wounded treecat.

  Then he said, “I think we should bring those bodies along. I noticed you had some tarps in the trunk.”

  “Mom and I always carry some in case we need to wrap a root ball or something,” Jessica said. “I’ve got boxes, too. Do you think the other treecats will mind?”

  “I don’t see anyone making funeral arrangements,” Anders said brutally. “Let’s do this like last time, let Valiant see what we’re doing. If he protests or the other treecat wakes up and gets upset, then we stop and settle for images. Otherwise, we bring the bodies, too. We’ll take the same precautions as last time, handle the bodies as little as possible, and disinfect afterwards.”

  Jessica nodded and, when Valiant showed no signs of being upset, they carried out their grisly task as quickly as possible.

  “I suppose we could have buried these like we did the other one,” Anderson said, “but I’m edgy about all of this.”

  “You, too?” Jessica said. “I thought Valiant’s worry over the other ’cat was making me nervy.”

  “It’s not just you,” Anders assured her. “It can’t be a coincidence that we’ve found four dead and one injured treecat all in the same region. What if something’s hunting them—some predator displaced by the fire, maybe? I’d like to see if Scott can make a guess at what got them. Then maybe the SFS can do something.”

  “Good idea,” Jessica agreed, tucking a tarp to secure the load packed in the air car’s trunk. “We’ll call Scott on the way and tell him what to expect. Now we’d better fly.”

  * * *

  Keen Eyes realized the pain had gone away. He still felt very weak, but it was a delicious sort of weakness. He felt cared for, protected, relaxed in a manner he hadn’t felt for a long time—certainly not since the fires destroyed his clan’s home range, perhaps not since he’d been a kitten.