“That is unlikely to happen,” said the visitor, flushing slightly. “They will never become your friends. Dessia is only interested in the perpetuation of the Dessites, however much they wrap it up as exploration of the galaxy. They need an overflow planet – maybe more than one – or they will have to resort to euthanasia for the race to survive. That is their only preoccupation. And I should know – I was born a Dessite.”
“You no longer think like them.”
“I never did. I was a dissenter when I was alive – a romantic who believed in trying to maintain all the species on the planet with life. I was laughed out of the council when I told them that they were only creating future problems by allowing all the biodiversity of Dessia to die out. They thought I was mad to question the council of guardians; they said I must be a throw-back to some previous era.
“Ironically, I was one of the first Dessites to be cryopreserved. I made such a nuisance of myself that they decided I would be a perfect guinea-pig for their experiments. Then, when the space program was started, many generations later, my cells were some of those used for the first travelers. During the early stages of the space program they weren’t too particular who they sent into space. Now it is regarded as a great honour. They wouldn’t even consider sending somebody like me up these days. You have to have proved yourself worthy of such an honour now. Have to think just like the council does on all matters.”
“Then part of you is still kept alive on Dessia?”
“My predecessor is preserved in a cryovault there, yes. Why?”
“It may be useful some day.”
The visitor gave a flash of disbelief.
Arcan shimmered quietly. “You never know.”
GRACE STARED HARD at Arcan. “It might be risky,” she said quietly. “But I think you are quite right. We can’t just let the Ammonites side with Dessia without talking to them, explaining the situation to them. Surely they won’t persist in this determination to force the lost animas of Xiantha to join them? It makes no sense.”
Arcan was pleased. “Then you think it is a good idea?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” —Grace was cautious— “but I do understand how you feel. We went to a great deal of trouble to save the Ammonites, to find Enara for them. It does seem wrong that they should even contemplate talking to the Dessites, should consider plotting to harm you. I think you probably ought to try to bring them around. Are you going on your own?”
“I am going to take the visitor with me. He is also immune to their mental manipulation.”
“Why don’t you take us with you? —Just in case.”
“No. We know that they can enter your minds with ease. I would prefer to keep this quantum to quantum.”
“All right. But let me know how it goes. Promise?”
“Of course, Grace. You know how much I value your opinion.”
Grace reddened. “Still? I … I sometimes wonder how much use I can be to you.”
“You shouldn’t. You are the first living creature I spoke to. You have a very special place in my life.”
Grace felt herself flushing more, but smiled as she saw Diva walking up to them. “And, Arcan – you should consult with Diva about the Enarans, too.”
Diva turned to Arcan. “The Enarans?”
Arcan shimmered and explained the latest events that the visitor had witnessed.
Diva pursed her lips. “Yes, we ought to try to change their minds. I just hope we haven’t left it too late. —If they are already discussing the terms of the treaty, I mean. Who are you taking with you?”
“The visitor. I’m hoping the Ammonite animas will listen to reason. They are the oldest race in the galaxy. I really can’t see what advantage they will have by allying themselves with the Dessites, who are so backward in comparison. Can you?”
Diva was frowning. “The one thing the Dessites can do that the Enaran Ammonites can’t is control you, Arcan. The Ammonites might think an alliance worthwhile, just to get rid of you. After all, from their point of view, you are the reason the lost animas of Xiantha have refused to join them.”
Arcan didn’t seem to understand this. “If that is true,” he said, “then they have much more to gain by allying themselves with me, surely.”
Diva looked skeptical. “They might not see it the same way.”
“It is the logical way.”
She still wasn’t convinced. “Last time I saw the Enarans, they didn’t sound very logical.”
That made Arcan think back. “They didn’t; you may be right.”
Diva sighed. “I hope not. I think you have to go, anyway, but I am beginning to wish I had never suggested it, even though I know how important it is for you to try to avoid any sort of bloodshed. If the Ammonites team up with the Dessites, there is bound to be a lot of that.”
Arcan scintillated. “I must try to reason with them.”
“Can you not stay for today?”
He shook his head. “I want to spend some time on Valhai before the visitor and I leave. We are hoping to go over to Enara in a few days. Why did you ask me to come over?”
Grace indicated a magsled which had been parked in the shade by the beach. It was laden with fruit and sweetbreads. “It is four weeks since Vion operated on Tallen, and he has given him permission to come back to Xiantha today. We thought we would celebrate with a picnic over in the Lost Valley. Will you bring him over before you go? He will already have said his goodbyes to Mandalon and will be ready.”
Diva followed her gaze. “When I was small, we had sumptuous banquets all the time. Now even this seems too much. I hope I am not turning into a Namuri!”
“What would be so wrong about that?” A rather imperious-looking Tallen had just been set down on the sand beside them, in time to hear Diva’s last comment. He was looking distinctly put out.
She grinned. “Nothing worse, thief!” Then she bounded across the sand and hugged his neck, giving him a punch in the arm at the same time in a companionable sort of way. “How are you? Can you walk all right now? Will you be able to fight?”
“Better than you, Meritocrat!” Tallen tried to look fierce, but didn’t quite manage it. He gazed around and took a deep gulp of the Xianthan air. “I had forgotten how good this planet smells. It is great to be back.”
“Then you didn’t enjoy your stay with Mandalon? Did you learn Sell?” asked Diva.
The Namuri bowed. “Yaschte asthenis cafnechtesche.”
Diva stared. “You would have been put to death for speaking in Sell out loud, five years ago!”
“Probably preferable to learning it,” said Tallen darkly. “Deadly language!” He looked as though he had swallowed something totally indigestible. “Three hours a day for nearly a month! I wish they had kept it a secret.” Then he remembered Grace was a Sellite. “Sorry!”
Grace reached up to give Tallen a hug. “You really can speak Sell? That is incredible!”
“Why? Do I look too stupid to learn?”
She stared. “No! Of course not! I … I …”
“Echte thensetech ivisenon.”
Grace’s mouth dropped open. “Enseschte avesnon,” she replied automatically. “Wow! Your pronunciation is very good!”
Tallen gave a smile. “There was not a great deal more to do on Valhai,” he said. “Except study with the vimpics.”
Diva nodded in sympathy. “Tell me about it. I still have nightmares about Atheron’s lessons.” She turned to Tallen. “Six is over by the cabin. He will be really happy to see you.”
“Not so much as I shall be to see him.”
“Long month?”
“My people do not like being shut up inside buildings. We miss the open land, the marshes.”
“Thank you for saving Raven.”
“In fact, we
saved each other.”
A small figure came flying across the sands, to clutch hold of Tallen’s leg, nearly knocking him over. “T’an! T’an!”
Tallen only just managed to keep his balance. “Raven! You have grown up while I was away! Look at you now!”
The girl appeared gratified. “I got big,” she told him. “Come help me with my canth!”
“I hear you are going to lead the way today?”
She nodded importantly.
“Then you are a very lucky girl.”
She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him away from the others. “Come! Come now!”
Tallen gave in, and allowed himself to be tugged away from the lake towards the meadows where the canths would be foraging. It really was good to be back. He knew he was lucky to be here. A few centimetres to one side and he would have lost the leg. After the rehabilitation exercises, he was able to walk almost normally. Only a slight nagging in the leg after strenuous exercise reminded him of the encounter on Coriolis, and Vion assured him that even that would disappear in another month or so.
NOW THAT IT was time to set off, Raven was beside herself. It was the first time she was to be allowed to travel on her own canth; the canth keeper had deemed her ready to face a short journey and able to ride without a leading rein. At her age this was quite an achievement, one she was inordinately proud of.
All Xianthans were required to travel to see the eight magnificents at least once in their lifetime, and that was one of the reasons for this particular journey. If Raven was capable of enduring such a ride, then next year they would take the canths to the south of the planet, to the lowlands. That would be a journey of several weeks, so Raven was anxious to prove herself on this shorter trip to the Lost Valley.
Tallen looked up from Raven’s canth, where he had been checking that the tack was safely fastened, then beckoned to her. She came running, eager to be given a leg-up into the saddle.
Tallen hoisted the young girl up and made sure her feet were in the special child stirrups.
Diva shouted over to Six.
“Aren’t you ready, yet? We could have been half-way there by now!”
Six grinned, and pointed at Ledin. “Have to wait for lazybones, here!”
Ledin gave him a pained look. “It’s Grace’s fault,” he said mildly. “She and Temar will catch us up, by the way. They are going by magsled. Tallen and Bennel can go with them. We are all going to go via the canth farm, because the man who speaks to canths has promised to come too.”
“Couldn’t she take Temar on her canth?” asked Raven, who was inordinately fond of Grace and Ledin’s son, and spent all the time she could with them.
Ledin shook his head. “He is far too young to sit for so long on a canth, Raven. He can ride around the lake, when we are close by him, but he wouldn’t be able to manage as long a ride as this one. No, he will have to wait a year or two.”
“Not like me!” said the little girl, unable to resist crowing ever so slightly.
Tallen frowned. “Temar is more than a year younger than you, Raven. It is not his fault.”
Raven went red. Tallen was one of her favourite people; she hated being rebuked by him, especially since she had missed him so much in the last few weeks.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she informed him in a haughty voice. “That is not your job!”
There was a deathly silence all around her, and even Raven realized that she had just said something unpardonable. She began to have a jittery, fluttery feeling of apprehension in her stomach.
Her mother was looking down at her with a strange look on her face, but her father simply looked cross.
“You will do as Tallen tells you, Raven. He certainly can tell you what to do and, if you don’t do it, has my full permission to discipline you accordingly.”
“Yes, Father.” Raven hung her head, wishing herself anywhere else. This was the happiest day of her whole life and she had spoilt it completely. She kicked at her canth, something she never usually did, and it gave a surprised leap which almost unseated her.
“If you can’t control your own canth, you will have to go on the magsled with Temar and Grace and the others,” sentenced her mother.
Raven tried to shrink into nothingness in the saddle. She wished the sandy ground would open up and swallow her whole. Why had she even opened her mouth? And to insult Tallen, of all people! She felt sick. He had only just come back after his injury on Coriolis. It had taken nearly a month for him to be able to get full control of his muscles. How could she have been so stupid? Hot tears ran down her mortified cheeks.
Diva was regarding her daughter with something like comprehension, and made a swift sign to Six to let the matter drop. She knew that the girl was agonizing over her hasty words and ready to sink. She turned to the others.
“Right! I think we can be on our way. Six … are you planning on walking to the Lost Valley, or are you going to give that canth of yours some exercise?”
Six leapt onto his canth and gave a shout of glee. “Let’s go!”
Bennel and Tallen joined Grace and Temar on the magsled, after making sure Raven was safely settled on her canth. They set off across the Great Plain, Six and Diva taking the lead, Ledin and Raven following sedately and the magsled bringing up the rear.
Six took a slow, deep breath of the hot Xianthan air. “This is wonderful.”
Diva looked across and stretched her hand out to him as they rode. He took it, and they went on like that for a mile or so, the gait of both canths matched so perfectly that there was no tug on their fingers.
Six felt the rays of the sun beating down on his face and knew himself to be lucky. Just the feel of Diva’s hand in his made him happy. And here he was, a no-name from Kwaide, cantering across the most beautiful planet in the whole system, enjoying a true holiday with all the people he cared for most. He looked up at the towering Xianthes, coming slowly closer in front of them, and then back at Raven, who was now on her best behaviour behind him, cantering on her own, although Ledin was keeping a keen eye on her. His daughter was a hoyden at heart, he knew. She was so much like her mother that sometimes he felt he was talking to a younger Diva.
He looked sideways at his wife and gave her hand a small squeeze. “Are you happy?”
She understood immediately. “Yes! I never thought I would be, did you? When they operated on me on Valhai, when they took all my genetic material, it was as if the future was a solid iron wall in front of me; something too heavy to even contemplate. I could never have imagined having a day like this. This is a day of sunlight and hazy clouds, one of those perfect days you usually have only as a child.”
Six shook his head. “I never had a day like this as a child.”
“No. You wouldn’t. I’m sorry, I was forgetting.”
“For me, this is a magical day, one I never thought I would live.”
“I know what you mean. It is like flying above the land; there is something intoxicating in the air; a day to remember.”
“Yes. You do understand.” The movement of the two canths suddenly put them out of step, making them drop hands, but they smiled sideways at each other, and Diva felt a fizz in her heart. It was as if the air sparked between them, leaving them breathless and dazzled.
“I love you,” she said, quietly.
“I love you too.”
Diva pulled her canth in, letting it dance on the spot. “Race you to that Eletheian tree!” she shouted. “Bet you can’t catch up!” Her mount gave a buck with a back kick that would have unseated a lesser rider, but which Diva hardly seemed to notice.
Six picked up his hands. “You have to be kidding. My canth could beat yours with a twenty furlong start. I’m on!”
Diva’s eyes flashed. “Then let’s go!” She urged her mount into a full s
tretched gallop.
Ledin watched Six’s canth give a tremendous leap after Diva’s and put a restraining hand out on Raven’s reins.
“I want to gallop too!” she grumbled.
“Yes, but let’s give your parents a few moments to themselves.”
Raven pulled a face and then thought better of it. She had to make herself a better person; she would never get any colour if she kept this up. She marshaled her features into some semblance of decorum and nodded.
Six and Diva thundered along the Great Plain. They could hardly remember when they first set foot on Xiantha, when they had hired a vaniven cart to take them to the Donor Headquarters, before they had heard of, or seen a canth. Now all that seemed to have vanished into a distant past, one which could be taken out and dusted if necessary, but which was hidden by a patina of time.
They were both feeling euphoric as they enjoyed the flat-out stride of their canths. They hadn’t had a good gallop like this together in months.
Six edged his canth closer to hers. She was still a fraction in the lead, but he thought he could catch her all the same. Not that it was important to win. This was a race that was all about the running, not the arriving.
Their eyes flashed with enjoyment and they were young children again. It was just them, the thudding of the canths’ hooves in the dust, and a moment of elation.
At last they reached the tree, pounding up to it in a dead heat – whether by chance or by choice neither of them was sure. They pulled up with a scattering of loose top sand, and then threw themselves off their canths, and made their way under the shady tree, leaving the canths to forage, and rest.
Six sat with his back to the tree, munching on the stalk of a mellowbell he had found surviving in the shade.
“Told you I would beat you!” he said.
She pushed him. “You wish!” She flopped down beside him.
The Namura Stone Page 10