Was Nimri’s crazy plan a sign of dementia? What if he and his strategy instructors were the unbalanced ones?
And why hadn’t someone told him the blasted android could change her voice on command? Larwin thought of all the hours of torment he’d endured during the weeks they’d been secluded in outer space, isolated from all but high-priority communication, as step by step he’d tested all phases of the machine. While he’d been accustomed to the solitude, the android’s sensual voice had triggered an involuntary response in his dreams. He could think of several days when her sultry tones had haunted his wake up calls. He could have avoided so much frustration if he’d known the voice circuits were adjustable.
Of course, doing so could have voided the analysis. Thank Kues those tests had become irrelevant. Larwin rubbed his temples and shook his head. Kazza purred.
Larwin sighed. He dropped his hand and stroked the cat’s head. Inside the kitchen, Nimri packed her basket with small pots and several bunches of leaves. GEA-4 loaded a smaller basket with flowers.
He ducked behind the prickly bush when they headed toward the door. GEA-4 cavorted past his hiding spot. Nimri laughed. Larwin peered through the leaves and watched them disappear down the path that led to the pool. Kazza leaned against his shoulder and purred loudly. “Well, fella, it looks like Nimri intends to go through with her crazy scheme. It might work, too.” Anything as insane as staining an android then reprogramming it to act like a kid had to have some sort of crazy potential and be an example of what his tactics teacher had meant when he’d said, ‘Some unexpected phenomena work by the sheer fact that they are ridiculous and audacious.’ Larwin gave Kazza’s head a final pat. “I’m going to follow and observe. How about you?”
The huge cat appeared to twirl his whiskers. Larwin interpreted the response as collaborative agreement. When Kazza confidently moved toward the path, his feeling that the cat understood him intensified.
Larwin and Kazza shadowed Nimri and GEA-4 to the last ridge before the river. The breeze shifted. Larwin heard squawks and snatches of conversation. Abruptly, he recognized Nimri and GEA-4’s murmuring voices.
Though he couldn’t understand what they said, it sounded as if they were on the other side of the large clump of ferns. Much too close. Kazza sat down. His head inclined toward the voices. His ears pointed forward, the furry tufts trembling in the breeze. Larwin grinned and caressed the cat’s broad, striped back. Kazza winked at him then refocused his attention on the discussion. Larwin peered through the dense foliage, straining to hear their conversation.
The sun beat down. Perspiration trickled down Larwin’s back. The shady patch just a few feet further down the trail would provide a better view of the next section of the trail. But as he took a step toward the sanctuary, Kazza’s tail whacked him across the back of the knees. It was all Larwin could do to remain upright or hold back a startled shout. He gritted his teeth and glared at the cat.
Kazza winked and looked upward. Larwin glanced at the spot that held the cat’s attention. GEA-4 stood silhouetted atop the ridge. If he’d moved into the shade, her sensors would have picked him up. Worse, Nimri would probably have noticed him and wondered why he was tailing her.
Larwin started counting to one hundred. At fifty-eight, Kazza nudged him toward the shade. Larwin surveyed the path from his new vantage point; moving earlier would definitely have exposed him. He wiped his forehead. The cat actually understood more than he’d given the creature credit for. But then cats were supposed to be predators. It stood to reason that the beast would understand the concept of stalking prey.
Kazza ducked into a gigantic fern clump at his left. The tip of his tail seemed to beckon. He took three steps forward before he realized he was following the direction of a cat. While Kazza was a very intelligent creature, it was not wise to simply follow without reason.
A moment later, Kazza’s head reappeared, a huge red flower draped rakishly over his right eye. Larwin stared at the silly spectacle, then despite logic, Larwin felt himself drawn toward the intelligent amber pools. Involuntarily, he took a step forward. Then he took another step.
Fifty paces into the underbrush, Kazza stopped at the base of a mighty tree. This sequoia was at least twenty percent bigger than any Larwin had encountered previously in the amazing and confusing woodlands. As if in a trance he strapped cleats on his boots and gloves and began scaling the mighty trunk. Several feet up the trunk, Kazza’s body brushed his right hip.
Larwin paused to catch his breath. How had the cleats gotten into his backpack? Moreover, when had he gone back into the house to get his backpack? He frowned, at the discrepancies between his memory and the reality of his situation.
Kazza padded past as easily as if he was strolling on flat land. It took a second to comprehend that the cat’s long, lethal claws were ideal climbing equipment.
The compulsion to follow Kazza seemed overwhelming.
Several minutes later, Larwin crawled onto the lowest branch of the tree. Though precipitously rounded near the edge, the limb had at least six feet of flattish upper surface, which made it markedly bigger than the tree overlooking Nimri’s yard. The great cat ambled far out on the branch then sprawled across a smaller fan-shaped limb, which acted like a hammock. Larwin wet his lips. He’d always used the main trunk as a backrest, never venturing out on the limb. Tail twitching, the cat watched something below. About thirty feet of rugged bark separated them. Larwin’s fingers dug into the trunk’s rough surface as he evaluated the situation. Many parts of his basic training had been much worse than walking thirty feet across a wide, flat expanse, but none of his training had contended with such a high, uneven surface. And all exercise courses had catch nets. This one only had ferns, which provided doubtful protection against a fall.
He hadn’t come this far to be ruled by fear.
Larwin squared his shoulders, lifted his chin and let go of the trunk, then went to see what had captured the cat’s attention. Where the huge limb formed a Y, Larwin took a breather and peered downward. The town’s market area spread in front of him. A pen of geese sent up a ruckus as a bearded man in a frayed coat jabbed a stick through the wooden slats. Nine crude boats were tied up to the dock. “Swear to Kues, you can read my mind. This spot is perfect.”
Larwin pulled his audio-visual unit out of his backpack. As he tuned in the visual, he tried not to wonder when he’d packed everything that he needed for this reconnaissance. And he tried not to ponder when he’d gone back to get the pack that he distinctly recalled leaving in his room.
The market day scene appeared boringly typical and peaceful, but something didn’t feel the same as it had when Nimri had taken him.
Nimri moved around the square, smiling politely at everyone. She didn’t appear to have a care in the world other than trading her little pots and bunches of leaves for unidentifiable items. Odd that she didn’t hug others, as she had the red haired woman.
She didn’t laugh out loud, either.
In fact, everyone seemed to be conducting his or her business without the joy he’d previously witnessed. Was this normal or had the mood altered after the girl had fallen into the water?
After watching Nimri quietly move around several more tables, Larwin decided that GEA-4 must be some sort of key to Nimri’s plan, so he searched for the android. He spotted her as she grabbed an odd purplish thing from one table, then took a big bite. Who had ever heard of oval purple food or an android eating? As a rough-looking group approached her, the android threw down the thing and started twirling around like a demented idiot had programmed her.
What chemical contaminant had been in that thing?
Larwin adjusted the audio reception. Remnants of at least ten different conversations mingled. He narrowed the reception to focus on the group of men, which looked like the ones he’d fought with. “Would you take five eggs for the red?” the man with the droopy mustache asked as he pointed to a rectangular object.
“Six,” the woman countered.
The man shrugged. “How about the blue?” With a desultory move, he pointed at a more ovate item.
The conversation seemed dull as the scene, but Larwin could sense undercurrents of veiled emotion, which could flare like a flame, if a spark were struck. “This is the strangest strategy I’ve ever heard of,” Larwin said, “but I hope it works.” Kazza’s fur rippled. “You have no idea how many worlds Guerreterre has taken over. I never minded the bloodshed and death before—.” He grimaced, then softly added, “This time the enemy has a face.” Unwilling to admit more of his weakness, even if it was only to an animal, Larwin focused his attention on the rustic market. He disliked the idea of harming an enemy he’d come to know. Larwin cleared his throat. “A non-violent takeover method…what an amazing idea.”
Kazza pricked his ears toward Larwin and purred.
Larwin placed his audio-visual unit on the limb and stroked the cat.
~0~
Nimri ran her index finger over a beautiful green-glazed soup tureen. Quark Dagger smiled as her fingertip traced the intricate indentions of the fern leaf he’d embossed into the clay, then used as his inspiration for the vessel’s flowing shape. Though she admired both the beauty and function of Quark’s design, most of her attention stayed on GEA-4.
Nearby, one of the Lost, who had a scraggly mustache, haggled over the price of eggs with Breeze. Though Breeze was making a joke out of the barter, Quark’s body language tensed as he glared at her tightfisted customer and watched his every move to be certain the stale-smelling stingy man didn’t pinch anything.
“Quark,” Nimri said softly, “I want this, figure out what you want for it.” He’d given her so many fine pieces that even an exorbitant amount for the tureen would be fine. He grunted, but his attention didn’t stray from the Lost’s hands. “You’re busy, wrap it up for me when you have time.” She placed it on the table, and gave the intricate design a final caress.
Abruptly, a hand closed on Nimri’s upper arm. The Lost on her mind, she spun to confront her attacker. Lily leaped backward in surprise. Nimri put her hand to her thundering heart. “You startled me.”
Lily’s wide smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m glad to see you, as well.”
Nimri hugged her. Lily felt as stiff as cured wood. Was her underlying tension due to her mother’s presence or worry over Tansy? “Let me guess, you came to beg me to convince Bryta to come home.”
“Yes,” she said without pause to think. Then she colored. “No.” Lily sighed and looked down. Her hands twisted her apron into an unidentifiable wad. Why hadn’t she ever noticed that Bryta and Lily shared the same nervous gesture? “I’m worried about Tansy.” Lily’s voice quivered with unshed tears. “Would you please come look at her?”
Not now. Nimri clasped Lily’s cold hands between her own and turned so that she could watch GEA-4, while she determined what might be wrong with Tansy. “What upsets you about her?”
GEA-4 kicked dirt on a Lost’s boots.
“All she does is lie in bed.” Lily twisted her apron. “Both eyes adjust to light correctly, but she acts sicker—weaker—now than when you – the Guardian – brought her back.” Lily pulled a hand from Nimri’s grip and put trembling fingers over her mouth.
“Does she complain about anything in particular? Poor vision? Aches?”
“No.” Lily looked ready to break down and bawl like a baby. “She has hardly spoken a word since the Guardian brought her home.”
The Lost laughed at GEA-4 then moved away from her. Nimri considered Lily’s obvious worry and frowned. Information always seemed to arrive at the worst times. “Does her perspiration smell odd?”
“No. Her body appears healed but she acts near death. She barely speaks or shows an interest in anything. She spends the entire day staring out the window.” Again, Lily stifled a sob. “Her room overlooks the river.” A tear ran down her cheek.
Nimri wondered if Lily could actually be close to nervous exhaustion or if she simply wanted attention. Perhaps the girl stayed in her room to avoid her grandmother. Since she hadn’t sent a message for help prior to Market Day, she suspected the second or third option. With that judgment, Nimri smiled and patted Lily’s hand. “Tell me all about it.” As Lily opened her mouth to do just that, Nimri turned most of her attention on GEA-4’s efforts to antagonize the Lost, but the man only seemed amused by her annoying, childish antics.
“It’s as if the river has taken hold of her mind.” Lily whined. “Tansy doesn’t eat. She doesn’t speak. She just lies in bed staring at the river. Nimri, I’m afraid.” Lily’s tone cracked. “So afraid.” Her words rang with true fear.
“Let’s go look at her.”
Side by side, they angled across the market. As they neared GEA-4, Nimri tried to signal her to hold off. Instead, GEA-4 moved toward a burly Lost, who had the yellowed remains of a badly bruised face and a swollen nose; labeling him one of the ruffians Larwin had dealt with. The man looked like he was itching for a rematch.
GEA-4 could set their plan in motion after she checked on Tansy, now and save the many in a few minutes.
Praying that GEA-4 saw her leaving, Nimri headed up the path.
A glob of putrid brown juice landed two paces in front of Lily. Instead of stepping forward, she teetered backward. Nimri caught her arm, preventing her from falling. Once Lily regained her balance, she turned toward the man with the broken nose. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him, but instead of speaking to him directly, Lily hissed at Nimri. “That filthy Lost needs to be punished. They all need to be taught a lesson.” Lily put her fisted hands on her hips, in a vengeful image of her mother. “I wish Rolf had killed them all.” She stopped and turned to Nimri, hands still on her hips.
Nimri heaved a mental sigh. How could she salvage her plan and the present situation without resorting to the violence, which never really seemed to solve any problems? “Lily, no harm was done.”
Lily’s mouth flattened.
GEA-4 cut in front of the rude man. Ignoring him, she did a dance step. The man grabbed GEA-4’s shoulder and spun her around. “Get out of my way, brat,” he shouted.
GEA-4 shook free of his grip, then keeping just out of his reach, she continued her squeaky song and dance. The man’s blotched face turned red, which caused the healing bruises to appear a sickly orange. Scabs and a tiny brown rivulet at the corner of his mouth became visible underneath his beard stubble.
“What are you going to do about him?” Lily jabbed her thumb toward the uncouth man.
“Teach him a lesson.”
“When?”
GEA-4 stuck her tongue out at the man.
“Soon.”
Lily snorted. “It’s been eight moon risings since they tried to kidnap my Tansy. Rolf would not have let the sunset on that outrage. How much longer is soon?”
The man’s hands clinched into fists. “Instead of thinking about revenge, you should be encouraging Tansy to get out of bed,” Nimri said. “Unused, muscles became useless. Lack of physical activity and pampering warp a mind more th—”
The Lost lunged at GEA-4 as she twirled around on tiptoe. He grabbed her shoulder and shoved her aside. The android did a perfect imitation of a child falling as she landed with a splat in the dust.
“How dare you suggest—” Lily was cut off by a blood-curdling scream from GEA-4. Though Nimri had been anticipating it, the shrill cry chilled her blood. It brought instant silence to the market, as everyone turned to see what had happened.
GEA-4 curled into a piteous pile and raised her arms as if she expected the bully to beat her. Though it looked natural, it had taken five days to teach the Guardian how to behave convincingly.
“I didn’t push you that hard, you obnoxious little whiner!” The man’s voice echoed over the staring crowd.
Lily’s white fingers covered her mouth and she edged backward.
Nimri shook herself into action and stepped between the man and GEA-4. “What’s going on? Why did you attack that chil
d?”
Brown, beady eyes glared at her from beneath wild, saffron brows. “Attack? I didn’t attack the—”
“He pushed me!” GEA-4’s high pitch made Nimri’s teeth ache. “He hurt me! Protect me!” GEA-4 surged to her feet, then in a fluid motion; she threw herself at Nimri, buried her face in Nimri’s stomach and seemed to wilt as she cried.
Some in the crowd murmured. Nimri patted The Guardian’s rigid back and hoped no one had noticed how coordinated she’d been. It was amazing how difficult clumsiness was to teach.
“Protect you from what?” The man’s rage seemed solid as GEA-4’s dusty back, which he was glaring at. “Yourself?”
“Quiet, both of you!” Nimri stroked GEA-4’s wispy black hair in the soothing manner they had worked out as a signal. GEA-4’s crying subsided. The man’s mouth compressed to a thin white line. “Thank you,” Nimri said as the man's mouth formed a thin angry line. GEA-4 sank to the ground and huddled into a rumpled ball of misery.
The crowd formed a loose circle around the three of them. There were over one-hundred-people, but they were so quiet that Nimri heard flies buzzing. She took a deep breath. The air smelled of perspiration, fresh bread, stagnant water and dank poultry. The normal aromas of Market Day, yet somehow today the air seemed spiced with expectation.
She exhaled then addressed the crowd. “This time we’re lucky. No one has been hurt.”
Keeping her eyes averted from the crowd, GEA-4 whined in pitiful protest. Nimri bit the inside of her mouth so she wouldn’t smile with pride at how well The Guardian was playing her part.
“On our side of the river, we teach children to respect adults—we spank them,” the Lost said. His look dared her to disagree.
“When I was a child,” Nimri said, “spankings didn’t teach me anything.” The man glared at her. “Would you hit her if she was able to defend herself?” Nimri used her softest tone and perused his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t flinch or look away. An unseen man made an insolent comment about Nimri but she didn’t allow her gaze to waver from the bruised face of the angry Lost.
Star Bridge (Chaterre Trilogy Book 1) Page 17