Zoe's Tale

by John Scalzi

  They kept singing, getting closer to the end of that chant.

  So I did what I had to do.

  I sang back.

  I opened my mouth and the first line of “Delhi Morning” came out of it. Not well, and not on key. Actually, it was really bad—all those months of practicing it and playing it at hootenannies were not paying off. It didn’t matter. It was doing what I needed it to do. The werewolves immediately fell silent. I kept singing.

  I glanced over to Gretchen, who was not so far away that I couldn’t read the Are you completely insane? look that she had on her face. I gave her a look that said, Help me out please. Her face tightened up into something unreadable and she sighted down her rifle to keep one of the werewolves squarely in target—and started to sing the counterpoint of the song, dipping above and below my part, like we had practiced so many times. With her help I found the right key to sing and homed in.

  And now the werewolves knew there was more than one of us.

  To the left of Gretchen, Dickory chimed in, mimicking the sitar of the song as he did so well. It was funny to watch, but when you closed your eyes it was hard to tell the difference between it and the real thing. I drank in the twang of his voice and kept singing. And to the left of Dickory, Hickory finally came in, using its long neck to sound off like a drum, finding the beat and keeping it from then on.

  And now the werewolves knew there were as many of us as them. And that we could have killed them anytime. But we didn’t.

  My stupid plan was working. Now all I had to do was figure what I had planned to do next. Because I really didn’t know what I was doing here. All I knew was that I didn’t want to shoot my werewolf. The one, in fact, who had now stepped off entirely away from the rest of his pack and was walking toward where he thought my voice was coming from.

  I decided to meet him halfway. I set down my rifle and stepped into the clearing, still singing.

  The werewolf with the spear began to raise it, and suddenly my mouth was very dry. I think my werewolf noticed something on my face, because it turned and chattered madly at the spear carrier. The spear went down; my werewolf didn’t know it, but he’d just saved his friend a bullet in the head from Gretchen.

  My werewolf turned back to me and started walking toward me again. I kept singing until the song was through. By that time, my werewolf was standing right next to me.

  Our song was finished. I stood there, waiting to see what my werewolf would do next.

  What he did next was point to my neck, to the jade elephant pendant Jane had given me.

  I touched it. “Elephant,” I said. “Like your fanties.”

  He stared at it again and then stared at me again. Finally it chirped out something.

  “Hello,” I said back. What else was I going to say?

  We had a couple more minutes of sizing each other up. Then one of the three other werewolves chirped something. He chirped something back, and then tilted his head at me, as if to say, It would really help me if you actually did something here.

  So I pointed to Enzo and Magdy. “Those two belong to me,” I said, making what I hoped were appropriate hand signals, so my werewolf would get the idea. “I want to take them back with me.” I motioned back in the direction of the colony. “Then we’ll leave you alone.”

  The werewolf watched all my hand signals; I’m not sure how many of them he actually got. But when I was done, he pointed to Enzo and Magdy, then to me, and then in the direction of the colony, as if to say, Let me make sure I’ve got this right.

  I nodded, said “yes,” and then repeated all the hand signals again. We were actually having a conversation.

  Or maybe we weren’t, because what followed was an explosion of chittering from my werewolf, along with some wild gesticulating. I tried to follow it but I had no idea what was going on. I looked at him helplessly, trying to get what he was saying.

  Finally he figured out I had no clue what he was doing. So he pointed at Magdy, and then pointed at the rifle one of the other werewolves was holding. And then he pointed at his side, and then motioned at me as if to take a closer look. Against my better judgment, I did, and noticed something I missed before: My werewolf was injured. An ugly furrow was carved into his side, surrounded by raw welts on either side.

  That idiot Magdy had shot my werewolf.

  Barely, sure. Magdy was lucky that his aim continued to be bad, otherwise he’d probably already be dead. But even grazing it was bad enough.

  I backed up from the werewolf and let him know I’d seen enough. He pointed at Enzo, pointed at me, and pointed back to the colony. Then he pointed at Magdy and pointed at his werewolf friends. This was clear enough: He was saying Enzo was free to go with me, but his friends wanted to keep Magdy. I didn’t doubt that would end badly for Magdy.

  I shook my head and made it clear I needed the both of them. My werewolf made it equally clear they wanted Magdy. Our negotiations had just hit a really big snag.

  I looked my werewolf up and down. He was stocky, barely taller than me, and covered only in a sort of short skirt cinched up with a belt. A simple stone knife hung from the belt. I’d seen pictures of knives like it from history books detailing the Cro-Magnon days back on Earth. The funny thing about the Cro-Magnons was that despite the fact that they were barely above banging rocks together, their brains were actually larger than our brains are now. They were cavemen, but they weren’t stupid. They had the ability to think about serious stuff.

  “I sure hope you have a Cro-Magnon brain,” I said to my werewolf. “Otherwise I’m about to get in trouble.”

  He tilted his head again, trying to figure out what I was trying to say to him.

  I motioned again, trying to make it clear I wanted to talk to Magdy. My werewolf didn’t seem happy about this, and chattered something to his friends. They chattered back, and got pretty agitated. But in the end, my werewolf reached out to me. I let him take my wrist and he dragged me over to Magdy. His three friends fanned themselves out behind me, ready if I should try anything stupid. I knew outside the clearing Hickory and Dickory, at least, would be moving to get better sight lines. There were still lots of ways this could go very very wrong.

  Magdy was still kneeling, not looking at me or anything else but a spot on the ground.

  “Magdy,” I said.

  “Kill these stupid things and get us out of here already,” he said, quietly and fast, still not looking at me. “I know you know how. I know you have enough people out there to do it.”

  “Magdy,” I said again. “Listen to me carefully and don’t interrupt me. These things want to kill you. They’re willing to let Enzo go, but they want to keep you because you shot one of them. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  “Just kill them,” Magdy said.

  “No,” I said. “You went after these guys, Magdy. You were hunting them. You shot at them. I’m going to try to keep you from getting killed. But I’m not going to kill them because you put yourself in their way. Not unless I have to. Do you understand me?”

  “They’re going to kill us,” Magdy said. “You and me and Enzo.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “But if you don’t shut up and actually listen to what I’m trying to say to you, you’re going to make that more likely.”

  “Just shoot—” Magdy began.

  “For God’s sake, Magdy,” Enzo said suddenly, from Magdy’s side. “One person on the entire planet is risking her own neck for you and all you can do is argue with her. You really are an ungrateful piece of crap. Now would you please shut up and listen to her. I’d like to get out of this alive.”

  I don’t know who was more surprised by that outburst, me or Magdy.

  “Fine,” Magdy said, after a minute.

  “These things want to kill you because you shot one of them,” I said. “I’m going to try to convince them to let you go. But you’re going to have to trust me and follow my lead and not argue and not fight back. For the last time: Do you understa
nd me?”

  “Yes,” Magdy said.

  “Okay,” I said. “They think I’m your leader. So I need to give them the idea I’m angry with you for what you did. I’m going to have to punish you in front of them. And just so you know, this is going to hurt. A lot.”

  “Just—” Magdy began.

  “Magdy,” I said.

  “Yeah, all right, whatever,” Magdy said. “Let’s just do this.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Sorry about this.” Then I kicked him in the ribs. Hard.

  He collapsed with a whoosh and fell flat to the ground. Whatever he was expecting, he wasn’t expecting that.

  After he had gasped on the ground for a minute I grabbed him by the hair. He clutched at my hand and tried to get away.

  “Don’t fight me,” I said, and gave him a quick punch in the ribs to make the point. He got it and stopped. I pulled his head back and yelled at him for shooting the werewolf, pointing at his rifle and then the wounded werewolf and back and forth several times to make the point. The werewolves seemed to make the connection and chittered among themselves about it.

  “Apologize,” I told Magdy, still holding his head.

  Magdy reached out to the wounded werewolf. “I’m sorry,” he said. “If I had known that shooting would mean Zoë got to beat the crap out of me, I would never have done it.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and then let go of his hair and smacked him hard across the face. Magdy went down again. I looked over to the werewolf to see if this was sufficient. He didn’t look like he was quite there yet.

  I loomed over Magdy. “How are you doing?” I asked.

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” he said.

  “Good,” I said. “I think that would work. Need any help?”

  “I got it,” he said, and retched all over the ground. This got impressed chirps from the werewolves.

  “Okay,” I said. “Last part, Magdy. You really have to trust me on this one.”

  “Please stop hurting me now,” Magdy said.

  “Almost done,” I said. “Stand up, please.”

  “I don’t think I can,” he said.

  “Sure you can,” I said, and wrenched his arm to give him motivation. Magdy inhaled and stood up. I marched him over to my werewolf, who eyed the both of us, curiously. I pointed at Magdy, and then to the werewolf’s wound. Then I pointed to the werewolf, and made a slashing motion on Magdy’s side, and then pointed at the werewolf’s knife.

  The werewolf gave me yet another head tilt, as if to say, I want to be sure we understand each other, here.

  “Fair’s fair,” I said.

  “You’re going to let him stab me?” Magdy said, his voice rising dramatically at the end of that sentence.

  “You shot him,” I said.

  “He could kill me,” Magdy said.

  “You could have killed him,” I said.

  “I hate you,” Magdy said. “I really really really hate you now.”

  “Shut up,” I said, and then nodded to the werewolf. “Trust me,” I said to Magdy.

  The werewolf drew his knife, and then looked back at his companions, who were all chattering loudly and beginning to chant what they were chanting earlier. I was all right with that. The difference now was that it was my werewolf who would do whatever violence would be done.

  My werewolf stood there for a minute, soaking in the chant of his fellow werewolves. Then without warning he sliced at Magdy so quickly that I only got him moving back, not forward. Magdy hissed in pain. I let him go and he fell to the ground, clutching his side. I moved in front of him and grabbed his hands. “Let me see,” I said. Magdy moved his hands and winced preemptively, expecting a gush of blood.

  There was only the thinnest red line on his side. The werewolf had cut Magdy just enough to let him know he could have cut him a lot worse.

  “I knew it,” I said.

  “You knew what?” Magdy said.

  “That I was dealing with a Cro-Magnon,” I said.

  “I really don’t understand you,” Magdy said.

  “Stay down,” I said. “Don’t get up until I tell you.”

  “I’m not moving,” he said. “Really.”

  I stood up and faced the werewolf, who had put his knife back on his belt. He pointed to Magdy, and then pointed to me, and then pointed back toward the colony.

  “Thank you,” I said, and gave the werewolf a little nod of my head, which I hoped would convey the idea. When I looked up again, I saw him staring at my jade elephant again. I wondered if he’d ever seen jewelry before, or if it was simply because an elephant looks like a fantie. These werewolves followed the fantie herds; they would be a main source of food for them. They were their lives.

  I took off my necklace and handed it to my werewolf. He took it and gently touched the pendant, making it twirl and glitter in the dim light of the night. He cooed at it appreciatively. Then he handed it back to me.

  “No,” I said. I held up a hand, and then pointed to the pendant, and to him. “It’s for you. I’m giving it to you.” The werewolf stood there for a moment, and then uttered a trill, which caused his friends to crowd around him. He held up the pendant for them to admire.

  “Here,” I said, after a minute, and motioned to him to hand me the necklace. He did, and I—very slowly, so I wouldn’t surprise him—put it around his neck and fastened it. The pendant touched his chest. He touched it again.

  “There,” I said. “That was given to me by someone very important, so I would remember the people who loved me. I’m giving it to you, so you’ll remember that I’m thanking you for giving me back people I love. Thank you.”

  The werewolf gave me another of his head tilts.

  “I know you don’t have any idea what I’m saying,” I said. “Thank you anyway.”

  The werewolf reached to his side, pulled his knife. Then he laid it flat on his hand and offered it to me.

  I took it. “Wow,” I said, and admired it. I was careful not to touch the actual blade; I’d already seen how sharp it was. I tried to return it but he held up his hand or claw or whatever you want to call it, in a mirror of what I did for him. He was giving it to me.

  “Thank you,” I said again. He chirped, and with that he returned to his friends. The one holding Magdy’s rifle dropped it, and then without looking back they walked to the nearest trees, scaled them at an unbelievable speed and were gone almost instantly.

  “Holy crap,” I said, after a minute. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

  “You can’t believe it,” Gretchen said. She came out of hiding and stalked right up to me. “What the hell is wrong with you? We come out all this way and you sing at them. Sing. Like you’re at a hootenanny. We are not doing this again. Ever.”

  “Thank you for following my lead,” I said. “And for trusting me. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Gretchen said. “It still doesn’t mean this is ever going to happen again.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  “It was almost worth it to see you beat the crap out of Magdy, though,” Gretchen said.

  “God, I feel horrible about that,” I said.

  “Really?” Gretchen said. “It wasn’t just a little bit of fun?”

  “Oh, all right,” I said. “Maybe a little.”

  “I’m right here,” Magdy said, from the ground.

  “And you need to thank Zoë you are,” Gretchen said, and bent down to kiss him. “You stupid, exasperating person. I am so happy you are still alive. And if you ever do anything like this again, I will kill you myself. And you know I can.”

  “I know,” he said, and pointed to me. “And if you can’t, she will. I get it.”

  “Good,” Gretchen said. She stood up and then held out her hand to Magdy. “Now get up. We’ve got a long way to go to get home, and I think we just blew all our dumb luck for the year.”

  “What are you going to tell your parents?” Enzo asked me, as we walked home.

  “Tonight? Not
a thing,” I said. “Both of them have enough to worry about tonight. They don’t need me coming in and saying that while they were out I faced down four werewolves who were about to kill two more colonists, and defeated them using only the power of song. I think I might wait a day or two to drop that one. That’s a hint, by the way.”

  “Hint taken,” Enzo said. “Although you are going to tell them something.”

  “Yes,” I said. “We have to. If these werewolves are following the fantie herds then we’re going to have problems like this every year, and every time they come back. I think we need to let people know they’re not actually murdering savages, but we’re all still better off if we just leave them alone.”

  “How did you know?” Enzo asked me, a minute later.

  “Know what?” I said.

  “That those werewolf thingies weren’t just murdering savages,” Enzo said. “You held Magdy and let that werewolf take a shot at him. You thought he wouldn’t stab Magdy to death. I heard you, you know. After it did it, you said ‘I knew it.’ So how did you know?”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “But I hoped. He had just spent God knows how long keeping his friends from killing the two of you. I don’t think he was just doing it because he was a nice guy.”

  “Nice werewolf,” Enzo said.

  “Nice whatever he is,” I said. “Thing is, the werewolves have killed some of us. I know John and Jane killed some of them trying to get our people back. Both of us—the colonists and the werewolves—showed we were perfectly able to kill each other. I think we needed to show that we were capable of not killing each other, too. We let them know that when we sang at them instead of shooting them. I think my werewolf got that. So when I offered him a chance to get back at Magdy, I guessed he wouldn’t really hurt him. Because I think he wanted us to know he was smart enough to know what would happen if he did.”

  “You still took a big risk,” Enzo said.

  “Yeah, I did,” I said. “But the only other alternative was to kill him and his friends, or have them kill all of us. Or all of us kill each other. I guess I hoped I could do something better. Besides, I didn’t think it was too big a risk. What he was doing when he was keeping the others away from you two reminded me of someone I knew.”