Redemption Song

by Henry A. Burns

  The gray being stared at Kasumi for a long time. “Rynn foolish are,” it stated finally. “Humans foolish are,” it said. “Graz’to foolish not. Grazto’to leave will.” It then turned and shuffled back up the ramp. The saucer rose into the air to join the two that were still hovering. Then all three shot off.

  “Morning Mist, track them,” Kasumi ordered.

  “Tracking, Kasumi,” Morning Mist replied. Then she noted, “Kasumi, a dozen more Graz’to ships have joined the three that were here. All traveling on the same heading.” She chirped to her Torque. “Wherever they’re going, they’re not in a hurry.”

  “Probably not,” Jeremy commented. “Nor do I think we’ve seen the last of them.” He rubbed his chin. “One thing I do know. They’re afraid of a human-Rynn alliance.”

  “Afraid?” asked the commander. “They’re hundreds of years ahead of us, and they’re afraid?”

  “They’re flying around in a thousand-year-old spacecraft,” Kasumi pointed out. “And while their propulsion system is powerful, it too is probably ancient.” She looked at her adopted grandfather. “An old race that is no longer advancing?”

  “A definite possibility,” agreed Jeremy. “What else is possible?” he asked.

  Kasumi’s crest lowered partially as she thought. “Prior to now, our knowledge of the Graz’to was limited to a handful of sightings and intercepted transmissions.” She chirped a chuckle. “Our short meeting today has provided more information than anything we’ve learned in the past one hundred Rynn years.”

  “I was able to get a full bio scan,” Morning Mist reported. “I haven’t analyzed it yet, but I would not be surprised if I found evidence of genetic senescence.”

  “Neither would I,” agreed Kasumi. “I said this to Germy earlier, but I think they might have been clones.”

  “I will check for that as well,” Morning Mist asserted.

  “Well, this was interesting, but we have more important things to deal with,” the commander said. “Sergeant Major, dismiss your squads,” he ordered. “We have work to do.”

  Bright Sunlight of the Hot Springs Clan sat in his command chair as his navigator brought the starship Safe Haven out of hyperspace. Bright Sunlight forced himself to wait calmly as his crew ran through all the post-jump safety checks. Finally, his crew chief turned in his chair.

  “All checks complete, Trade Master,” the crew chief reported. “The fleet has arrived in good condition.”

  Bright Sunlight grunted in acknowledgement. “Open a channel to the Seeker.”

  “Trade Master, we are being hailed,” the communication officer said. His crest rose in surprise. “They’re asking for you.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Bright Sunlight barked. The communication officer nodded. “Bright Sunlight of the Hot Spring Clan speaking.”

  “Hello, darling,” boomed a voice. “Kasumi sends her love, but she is a little busy right now.”

  “Who in all the spirits’ names is Kasumi?” Bright Sunlight growled.

  “Oh, that’s right, you wouldn’t know,” the voice replied. “Your daughter has taken a new name.” There was a chirping. “Yes, maybe that would be best,” said the voice.

  “Spirits bless you,” came another voice. “This is Morning Mist speaking. The one once known as Small Snow Flower has changed her name. She is now Kasumi Blunt of the Forest Cabin Clan.”

  “What nonsense is this?” Bright Sunlight growled. “Does my daughter disown her family?”

  “Kasumi, who once was Small Snow Flower, does not feel comfortable being part of a clan that does not properly train its successors,” Morning Mist replied. “She does not wish to claim incompetence, but that is only out of love for her parents.”

  “Incompetence?” sputtered Bright Sunlight. “How dare …”

  “Not properly training a successor is incompetence. Placing a successor in the hands of an unstable individual is incompetence. Not recognizing a successor’s weaknesses and not taking action to correct the weaknesses is incompetence,” Morning Mist chirped angrily. “Your actions led to a mutiny, placed the ship’s personnel in the hands of a madman, and nearly cost Kasumi her life,” she snapped. “It was only by the spirits’ blessings that she and we survived.”

  “What?” Bright Sunlight bolted half out of his command chair. “I know nothing of this,” he protested. “All that I know is that Small Snow Flower …”

  “Kasumi,” corrected Morning Mist.

  “As you will,” grumbled Bright Sunlight. “All I know is that after a worrisome silence, my daughter advises me that all is well and that I should come to these coordinates to discuss a trading opportunity,” he said. “Was that a lie?”

  Morning Mist chittered in amusement. “No, that was no lie,” she confirmed. “If anything, it was an understatement.”

  “Trade Leader, an unknown craft is approaching,” reported a bridge officer. “Spirits!” the officer chirped to its Torque. “Sensors indicate that the ship has a combined crew of Rynn and … something else.”

  “They’re called humans,” Morning Mist chittered in amusement again. “As the humans say, you are now living in interesting times.” She added, “Whether that is a blessing or a curse has yet to be determined.”

  YEAR 5

  26

  TIME IS AN ILLUSION THAT ONLY THE DEAD DO NOT SHARE

  Bright Sunlight, patriarch of the Hot Springs Clan, chief trader, and up until recently the most powerful Rynn on the planet known as Nest, stared nervously at the figure seated opposite him. She was tall for a Rynn and extremely muscular, and she carried a sword strapped to her back. That would be enough to convince any Rynn to deal cautiously with her.

  He had recently watched as this Rynn woman went through an exercise session using that same sword. What he had seen caused two conflicting emotions to fight for dominance within his soul.

  The first emotion was a fear that bordered on terror. The skill demonstrated was beyond anything he had imagined possible. It’s no wonder she was able to defeat Sun-Warmed Boulder so easily, he had thought. Spirits, but she looks like some barbarian warrior out of legend. Bright Sunlight, who was himself an accomplished swordsman, had no doubt that he’d fare no better than the dead duelist.

  The second emotion was pride. This same barbarian warrior who so terrified him was his daughter, Small Snow Flower.

  And now she calls herself Kasumi Blunt of the Forest Cabin Clan, he thought almost mournfully. His once loving and respectful daughter was now a stern and menacing presence. “That was an impressive demonstration, Daughter,” he said in falsely calm tones.

  Kasumi chittered in cold amusement. “It was passable,” she corrected. “Teacher Germy pointed out a few areas that needed attention.” She indicated one of the other beings present.

  Bright Sunlight forced himself to look at the strange being sitting on the edge of the strangely shaped desk and not show his fear. The creature was tall—taller than any sentient being had any right to be—and his shoulders were absurdly wide. He was mostly Rynn-like in form, though his skin was strangely leathery, and what bare skin Bright Sunlight could see seemed to be lightly covered in a white filament. Hair, the Rynn reminded himself.

  “You still have a habit of lifting your shoulders when you are about to attack,” the creature said. “An observant opponent will notice and exploit it.”

  “Oh quit it, Gramps,” said another being in the room. Obviously of the same species as the white-haired being, this one’s hair was reddish. While tall, this creature was of a more reasonable height. “She’s only been training for a little over four years. I think she’s doing fantastic.”

  “Thank you, Mel,” the Rynn woman now known as Kasumi replied. “But if Germy says I have a weakness, then it must be so.” She smiled at the white-haired being and briefly covered her eyes.

  “I have trained for most of my life,�
� Bright Sunlight said. “And I don’t doubt that Small … I mean, Kasumi could easily defeat me.”

  The tall white-haired being leaned over and bared his teeth. Bright Sunlight flinched. “Remember that,” he said in soft tones that somehow conveyed menace. Bright Sunlight nodded. The white-haired being stood. “If you will excuse me, granddaughters, I have some errands to attend to.”

  “Will you be at dinner tonight, Grandfather?” Kasumi asked. “Morning Mist is cooking, and she’d be very disappointed if you were not there.”

  The white-haired being laughed. “Well, we can’t have that,” he agreed cheerfully. “Tell Morning Mist to set a place for me.” He walked over and hugged Kasumi and the other female known as Mel, gave Bright Sunlight a cold look, and left.

  Bright Sunlight took out a square of cloth and wiped his crest. “I do not think Teacher Jeremy likes me very much,” he said quietly.

  “Well, Gramps is very protective,” Mel replied. She bared her teeth at Bright Sunlight in much the same way the older man had. “Personally, I’ve always found Gramps a little too forgiving.” She leaned over much as the white-haired being had. “Fortunately for you, Kasumi still thinks you are worth forgiving,” she said.

  Kasumi nodded. “Germy does not hate you, Father,” she said. “But he is still angry at you.” She raised a long-fingered hand to stop any comments. “This is not the time or place to discuss your failings,” she said. “We have more important matters.”

  “Trade,” Bright Sunlight said. “They are very primitive, Daughter,” he said in serious tones. “Some of what you wish to provide them may be beyond their current level of development.”

  “You have not lived among humans, Father,” Kasumi said in wry tones. “They have a habit of surprising you.” She chirped and a globe of light appeared in front of her. “Remember that ship that greeted you?” she asked. Bright Sunlight nodded. “It was created by a human, by hand, a few weeks after he discovered the theory behind the propulsion system.”

  “Impossible,” exclaimed Bright Sunlight.

  “Not for a human,” Kasumi replied. “They’re as smart, as intelligent as we are and twice as creative.” She smiled slightly. “If they somehow managed not to destroy themselves, we probably would have met in space in less than a hundred years.”

  “I wouldn’t bet against us destroying ourselves,” Mel said under her breath.

  “Maybe not, Core Sister,” Kasumi agreed. “But betting against humans does not seem wise.” She looked at the globe. “Germy has suggested a two-tier approach,” she said. “Humans on Earth will be provided the technology to construct fusion reactors, inertial compensators, and any other instrumentality that can be maintained by humans with little or no supervision,” she said. “Humans who travel with Rynn will be allowed access to any technology they wish.”

  “But Daughter …” protested Bright Sunlight.

  “In return, humans will fight alongside the Rynn,” Kasumi replied. “I want you to watch something.” She chirped and the globe expanded. Images began to form.

  “You are looking at a recording from one recent battle,” Kasumi said. “Notice the Rynn involved.”

  Bright Sunlight watched as the recording unfolded. “What is wrong with their faces?” he shuddered. “They look like monsters.”

  “That was the general idea,” Mel said. “It’s called war paint.”

  “War paint,” echoed Bright Sunlight. He continued to watch the recording. His crest flattened as he watched one Rynn slash at a human with his claws and then follow the slash with a kick to the human’s knee. The human crashed face first to the ground. “Humans don’t seem so …” He stopped as the downed human suddenly grabbed the attacking Rynn and flung it away one-handed. “Spirits.”

  “Two things, Father,” Kasumi said. “Notice that the Rynn is running back toward the fight,” she said. “And now notice what his human partner does.”

  Bright Sunlight watched as, just as Kasumi said, the Rynn fighter did run back into the fray—and then he saw that a human had joined in the fight. “They’re protecting each other.”

  “Very good, Father,” agreed Kasumi. “What else?”

  Bright Sunlight watched some more. His crest suddenly snapped open. “Are they laughing?” He leaned closer to the globe. “By the Spirits, they appear to be enjoying themselves,” he said in awe. “Rynn don’t …”

  “Don’t what, Father?” Kasumi almost purred. “Enjoy fighting? Face an enemy when they can run away?” She smiled. “That Rynn is, or was, a maintenance tech.”

  “If you think he’s impressive, you should see Cool Evening Breeze,” Mel said cheerfully. She whistled. “Now that is one mean Rynn.”

  “Only when Hendriks is threatened,” Kasumi corrected with a Rynn grin. “Or if Crystal is mad at both of them.” She looked at her father, who was listening with his crest half lowered and his mouth open. “Rynn have always believed that we were small and weak,” she said. “And because we believed that, we were.” She nodded toward the images playing in the globe. “Humans fear just like Rynn, but they have learned how to face their fears.” She briefly covered her eyes. “As Germy says, when you are no longer afraid, you can do anything.”

  Bright Sunlight’s crest trembled. “For what end?” he asked plaintively. “Even if some Rynn learn to … face their fears, then what?” His crest flattened, and he began to visibly shake when a different image appeared. It had an elongated reptilian long-toothed jaw, a blue-black exoskeleton, six segmented legs, and two pairs of tentacles that ended in stubby fingerlike projections.

  “How many Rynn ships have been captured by the Polig-Grug?” Kasumi demanded angrily. “How many Rynn have been eaten by these monsters?” She cut her father off with a slicing motion of her hand. “Too many,” she answered her own question. “We have been lucky that they have not as yet attacked our home planet,” she said. “But it’s only a matter of time before they do.”

  Kasumi stood and stared into her father’s eyes. “You asked to what end, Father,” she said. “This is my answer. Too long have we cowered in fear. Too long have we ceded planets and resources to the Polig-Grug,” she snapped. “With humans by our sides, we will teach the Polig-Grug, the Zaski, and anyone else who thinks we are nothing but prey the true meaning of fear.”

  “You’re mad,” gasped Bright Sunlight.

  “No, my core sister is not mad,” Mel said in almost cheerful tones. “She is acting like a human.” She smiled. “My grandfather would probably comment that there is little difference between being mad and being human.” Her smile became a grin when Kasumi covered her eyes.

  “There are seventy-one Rynn on the Seeker. Do you know how many volunteered to fight alongside the humans?” Kasumi asked. “Do you know how many want to go with the Seeker when she leaves to hunt our enemies?” Bright Sunlight shook his head and his crest flattened even further. “More than half,” Kasumi said, and her crest flared to its fullest. “And of the ones who did not volunteer, all of them were willing to give up their trade shares,” she said proudly. “I refused that offer, but asked instead that they donate some portion to refitting Seeker.” She smiled. “I had to give some of it back.”

  “Rynn are angry. I almost pity the Polig-Grug,” Mel said. “Well, not really, but if I were the Polig-Grug or the Zaski, I’d be getting very, very frightened right about now.”

  “Do the humans understand what you are proposing?” demanded Bright Sunlight. “Do they even know what a Polig-Grug or a Zaski is capable of?”

  “Did you see the Rynn with the war paint?” Kasumi shot back. Bright Sunlight shuddered, then nodded. “Every one of them has at least one human partner willing to go with them.”

  “Kasumi has two,” Mel said. “The only reason Gramps is not going … well, the reason is complex, but he would if he could.” She shrugged. “But when the Seeker leaves, me and David will be on
it.”

  The princess walked to the Temple of Light. Like the last time, it seemed empty and deserted. A wry smile came to the princess’s face. “Another test,” she told herself. She clapped her hands together twice. “Spirits of my ancestors, I am the Princess Kasumi,” she said. “I have learned what thirst is. I have learned what hunger is.” She removed her fine robes. “I stand before you naked.”

  “To what end, Granddaughter?” came a familiar voice.

  The princess turned and bowed to the old monk. “Greetings, Grandmother,” she said. “To what end?” she asked, repeating the question. “No end other than to speak with you.”

  “What? No plea for advice?” the old woman asked. “No demands to enter the temple?”

  “I have no need to enter the temple,” the princess replied. “I am already home.” She smiled slightly. “As for pleading for advice, I would hope you would offer me counsel if I needed it.” The old monk snorted in amusement. “No, my only reason for being here is to do what I have not yet done.” She bowed again. “I have never properly thanked you.”

  “What I did does not require thanks,” the old monk replied, “but it is a measure of your growth that you offer it.” She returned a bow. “Still, I see there is a question in your heart,” she said after a moment.

  “Yes, Grandmother,” the princess replied. She waved a hand. “This … is a dream,” she said. “And yet … it is not.”

  “Tell me of the Teacher,” the old monk said.

  The princess blinked and then bowed. “As you wish, Grandmother,” she said. “The Teacher is well, though I believe he thinks he’s lived overlong.”

  The old monk snorted. “He always was a fool,” she said. “An honorable and true fool, but still a fool.” She raised a hand palm outward. “Tell me what you see,” she commanded.

  The princess narrowed her eyes and looked at the hand. “There is a scar,” she said in realization.