“And?” She wasn’t going to like what was coming, Laris was sure.
“They taught them some medicine, all about germs and bacteria, exactly how infection worked, and how you could immunize people against some diseases. Unfortunately, one of the crew was a history enthusiast, and the idiot also explained quite fully about how some diseases can change and mutate and cause epidemics. The people were ignorant in that area, but not stupid—and they already had rudimentary science and medicine.” Tani sighed, and slumped a little in her seat. She continued:
“So one of the world’s kings got a bright idea. He could conquer all the other places using germ warfare. It worked very well if you like to look at it that way. The Antares crew were immune, of course, but no one else was. They weren’t exactly sure what the king’s medics came up with, but it spread like wildfire and wiped out around ninety percent of the population.”
“That’s impossible!” Laris exclaimed in horror. “Ninety percent? It couldn’t. What about distance and isolation? On a primitive world they usually protect the population against pandemics.”
Storm shook his head. “Not this time. They have a religious network in place with priests and priestesses who travel widely and often. Each town had regular meetings run by a priest or priestess, where they held a religious service first then a sort of town meeting to share information, news, and talk business. Everyone, even the peasants and farmers, met every five days for a couple of hours, whether they were religious or not.
“The disease caused a highly contagious pulmonary infection. Every cough and sneeze spread it a couple of yards, and in that world’s very humid atmosphere, germs sneezed or coughed onto a surface could stay alive and infectious for half a day or even longer. It also had a long incubation, about two weeks with no obvious symptoms before it became active.” She eyed Laris grimly.
“It could be less than ninety percent. The Patrol have yet to make a full evaluation, but they are already certain that it’s above eighty percent as an absolute minimum. Effectively, civilization on that world has been destroyed. The population will ultimately breed back—they still have the scientific information they had to that point, but how do you think they regard outworlders now? And the Patrol is going to be really conservative about their laws of contact with other native peoples and their worlds from now on as well.”
“I can see that, but where does my losing Prauo come in?”
“That world out there is Prauo’s homeworld, not yours. The Patrol could insist he remain here, but you have to leave.”
*No!* Prauo’s mental shout made all five humans jump. *No one,* Prauo amplified in lower, but far more intense, tones, * is separating me from my sister!*
“Then we wait until we hear what the Patrol has to say about Tani’s theories.” Storm was firm.
It was Tani herself who broke in, her voice thoughtful. “There is one thing we might do.”
“What’s that?”
“The samples I took to study the bonding problem are all from the aikizai and their liomsa, under Terran law they own them legally. The questionnaires come under privacy laws as well, so they own them, too. What if E’l’ith demanded the samples and questionnaires be returned to her people? Is it possible the liomsa here have sufficient knowledge to understand my results and know what they’re seeing?”
There was a very long pause while everyone thought about that. Storm agreed finally. “Yes, neither thing required for full bonding is unusual. Both are produced here as a normal way of life. If E’l’ith asked for the samples and questionnaires back, and if they could put the two summaries together themselves . . . Then, I’d say the Patrol might be annoyed with us, but we’d have broken no laws nor should we be subject to legal penalties.”
He looked at Tani. “Just how are you going to manage that, though? E’l’ith hasn’t shown any signs of demanding the results as yet.”
“Because I haven’t told her she has a right to ask for the samples and questionnaires to be returned. I think I should tell her our laws so she knows she can ask, don’t you? I mean, we should obey the law, and doesn’t the law say that ignorance of it is no excuse? E’l’ith should know her rights.”
Storm and Captain D’Argeis gazed at each other before the captain threw up his hands. “That has to be the most peculiar interpretation of the law I’ve heard in a long and misspent life, but it makes a weird kind of sense. Perhaps you should make our laws clear to E’l’ith and her friends. We can see what happens after that.”
Tani opened her mouth to reply when a chime sounded. The captain looked at a panel. “Your friend is healed. He may not feel that way, but the med-bay says it’s done everything it can for him right now. Maybe we should let him go, and I can take the ship back to the other landing site before it’s dark.”
They farewelled a still dazed-looking T’s’ai and a jubilant Arrraal. The aikiza bounced, but T’s’ai appeared unsure if he should leave or demand to be locked up in punishment. Tani opened the smaller crew door and pointed him down the steps.
*Go! What happens to you after this is between you and your conscience—and on the consciences of V’a’een and any others who commanded you and your friends to do wrong.*
She wasn’t sure if he grasped all of that, but in return he sent agreement, regret, guilt, and something she felt was an apology for taking Laris.
*You paid for that when you prevented V’a’een from using his atori.* She pictured one of the others waving the native rifle then aiming it at Laris, and another leaping to stop him.
T’s’ai sent understanding and acceptance. Tani felt that he was still suffering considerable guilt over what he’d done, but he knew they would not seek to punish him. It was for him to deal with his own people and what they might do to him for his actions. Silently he plodded down the steps, his aikiza flowing in front of him. At the edge of the forest they both halted briefly to look back at the ship. Then they plunged silently between the trees and were gone from sight.
Half an hour later, as the dusk darkened quickly toward full night, the ship lifted and was gone—though rather less quietly than the departure of T’s’ai and his akiza. A short time later the Lady touched down again on the short grass where it had rested when Laris was stolen, and the engine sounds drummed slowly down into quietness. Outside nothing moved in the evening’s growing chill, and no one awaited them outside the silent trees.
Chapter Nineteen
The ship spent the night closed up while her crew slept. Only the scanners and viewscreens noted that at dawn a native had appeared with an aikiza. The humanoid had studied the ship for a brief period before trotting back into the forest. Storm, once he was awake, checked the records and nodded thoughtfully to himself. So the liomsa knew the ship was back. Hopefully that meant E’l’ith and some of her group would be along by midmorning. In the meantime he was hungry and he guessed everyone else was as well.
He programmed the autochef and went to call Tani. “Wake up, Dearling. Time to rise and shine.”
Tani groaned. He nudged her gently until she sat up and eyed him severely. “Please, you shine. I just feel dull in the mornings.”
“You sparkle as always, beloved. Now let’s eat breakfast, then you can go and talk to E’l’ith. One of her friends was out there at dawn checking to see if we were back again. The scanners picked that up and it’s on the record.”
Tani rolled out of the bed. “Good, that’s just what we wanted. You go and put out the food. I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.” True to her word, she was, and they ate in silence, both considering their strategy for the coming day.
They were just dumping their cellulose plates into the recycler when Laris and Prauo appeared. Storm and Tani eyed the aikiza, suddenly noticing something that they hadn’t seen before as the big feline walked by the mess table.
“Is it my imagination or has he been growing lately?” Storm asked. “He looks taller against that table.”
“Yes, he has.” Laris appea
red casual, but her pride in her magnificent aikiza was plainly to be seen. “I hadn’t noticed either. I normally measure and weigh him every couple of months but I’d forgotten during this trip. When I checked last night I knew he’d grown quite a lot. The measure says that he’s gained another three inches at the shoulder and the scales say he’s gained twenty pounds, all in the past six months.” She turned to Tani. “Has there been any sign of E’l’ith?”
Tani nodded. “Storm says one of the others was out there sometime near dawn checking to see if we were back again. I’d expect E’l’ith and some of her assistants to come to the ship at the usual time.” She saw the question in Laris’s face. “Yes, I do plan to explain Terran laws and rights to her as soon as she arrives. I’m heading for my desk right now to sort out the lab results and download them onto plasheets so I can hand those over if the natives require it.”
She spoke the last words in an official monotone, so that Laris giggled and replied. “Perhaps I should explain their rights to E’l’ith when she gets here. That way you’re only doing what’s lawful and no one will think you prompted her request.”
From her side Prauo added, *And since Laris was kidnapped, naturally she’d be more concerned with someone’s rights just now.* There was a teasing undertone to his comment that brought smiles to everyone’s faces.
Tani and Storm exchanged glances before he spoke. “That makes sense. Keep an eye on the viewscreens. Once E’l’ith turns up out there, you two go out and tell her how you were kidnapped. Then explain that you’re concerned over her people’s rights to Tani’s material. Make sure she understands she can demand copies of it all.”
Laris’s return glance was mischievous. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she understands everything she should know. But we’re eating first. After a couple of days with nothing much to eat I’m still trying to catch up.” She tapped buttons to acquire meals on two plates before she and Prauo went to sit at a table.
She was almost finished when Captain D’Argeis entered, provided himself with a plate, and joined her. Logan followed. They all ate companionably before the captain rose again to bring back a jug of swankee. Laris, like many people who’d tried it as a novelty at first had come to love it and now she drained her mug, refilling it to drink a second mugful more slowly.
“Logan, do you want to come out with me and Prauo when E’l’ith arrives?”
He grinned. “I could if you’d like me to.”
“I would. You could help, too. If there’s anything I miss telling her about Tani’s records, you can remind me.” She didn’t add and would never have said it aloud to anyone, let alone Logan whom she loved, but her old refugee-camp instincts insisted that if anyone was acting slightly illegally, then all should. That way none in their group was more to blame than anyone else.
She wanted Logan with her anyhow. At the time she’d known the danger V’a’een posed to her, but she’d been able to brush it aside in her fight for survival. Last night in her cabin as she remembered the threat to her life, realized the possibility that she might have lost everything she cared about and never achieve any of the things she wanted to do, she’d cried desperately. She wept silently into her pillow while Prauo nuzzled her, sending comfort and love.
In those hours of misery and remembered fear she’d made up her mind. She had come to understand that her years in the refugee camps had wounded her emotionally, but wounds heal if they are allowed to do so. She believed that Logan loved her as she loved him. Prauo was agreeable to sharing his sister with Logan. She grinned as she finished her swankee, a small, very private smile, which only her aikiza saw.
Tani came hurrying back into the mess, “Laris, E’l’ith is out there with M’a’ein and three aikizai. They’re sitting down, and they look as if they’re prepared to wait a while, so there’s no great hurry. Finish your breakfast, then go out and have a quiet chat with them. I’ll have everything ready here.”
Laris stood up and walked to the recycler, dropping her mug into the opening. “I’m ready now.”
Prauo padded silently after her, his large, plush paws making no sound. He wasn’t going to be left out of this, either. He didn’t much like E’l’ith, and if there were three aikizai, one of them was probably Purrraal—and he most definitely didn’t like or trust her, even if she was his dam. He had no memories of her, anyhow, and he heartily disliked what he knew of her actions in the past. Laris wasn’t going to meet any of those outside without him at her side, just in case someone else out there got ideas about trying to use Laris again.
Inside the ship four humans stood watching the viewscreens and listening intently. Laris had pinned her communicator firmly within her breast pocket so they’d hear anything said aloud. Storm would be recording some of the conversation from Laris’s communicator.
Outside Laris approached the small waiting group. Prauo walked half a pace in advance of her, his eyes fixed on the aikizai. He was sending as he paced, nothing clearly defined, merely a warning, a sending that indicated he was alert and ready to attack if his sister was threatened, and a strong underlying suggestion of hungry readiness, almost eagerness, to do so. He was substantially larger than any of the three aikizai who faced him. He yawned slowly, allowing his lips to peel back from gleaming finger-length fangs.
Two of the aikizai made no reply but Purrraal yawned back at him in ritual display of readiness to fight. Laris laid a hand gently on his shoulder. *Don’t start anything, brother-in-fur.*
*I will not, but if they plan to do so, let them beware. I am no longer a cub.*
That was the truth, Laris mused; by her standards, his, and by the laws of this world. His last accepted mental leap had been made shortly before the ship had lifted from Arzor. With his final physical growth stage completed, Prauo was legally adult on his world; by their laws he was independent and could leave her if he wished. She felt the quick protest in his mind at that thought, and a leap of emotion. She smiled at him.
*I know, we are together always. But you are an adult now. Let them know it.*
*I plan to.*
*I also plan, brother. Let them see neither of us is a child, let them approach us as equals and no less.*
Laris halted at the length of woven material E’l’ith always laid on the grass, the liomsa version of a formal table. She dropped silently to sit cross-legged on her own side of the cloth. Prauo too dropped down to sit sphinxlike at her side, his eyes focused dangerously on the five who waited.
E’l’ith began. *It is well to see you have returned safely.*
Laris bowed her head in acknowledgment of that, but said nothing.
After a moment, E’l’ith continued, *I heard on our radio network that you had been taken away by T’s’ai. One of our people has been able to tap into the rebel communications. V’a’een was very angry when he told his followers you had been rescued. You were unhurt?*
*I was unharmed,” Laris sent before waiting once more. She could feel the sudden tinge of exasperation in the next sending. The liomsa wanted to know the details of what had happened. They hadn’t wanted to ask outright, but Laris was giving them no option. According to their own customs, if they asked, they could not protest anything she said that was part of that requested information.
E’l’ith turned her head to one side and Laris could feel the sending, though not the contents. The other turned her gaze back to Laris and sent formally, *It would please us here to hear what occurred between you and the rebels who stole you from your friends, if you are free to speak.*
Laris bit back a grin. There’d been a suggestion of gritted teeth in that request, but she had permission now to speak—of anything she wished. She began with the tale of her abduction and rescue. Then she told of T’s’ai’s agonizing grief still over the murder of his two original aikizai; of his desperation that it should not happen a third time . . . and her own feelings of disgust that E’l’ith’s people had countenanced such executions at all.
Purrraal yawned widely, a
llowing all present to see her fangs, her sending colored with the feeling of boredom. All that was old news to her, chewed bones, dead and dry. *I did what was right. The cubs and their lives were mine.*
Laris sent distaste, the feeling of someone who bends to pluck a flower and finds it half-rotten and squirming with foul life. Purrraal winced as Laris sent more, saying the words aloud, partly for emphasis and partly so that her friends within the ship would know what point of the discussion they had reached.
“The death of cubs, the murder of children, the slaughter of the innocent. My people do not find such things—civilized.” She felt the jolt of outrage from all five of the beings before her at the cutting tone of the last word. Purrraal half-rose, a defensive snarl rising in her throat. E’l’ith put out a hand to stop the aikiza.
*This may be truth to you, but we say we had no choice.* Her sending was calm but Laris could pick up the twinges of anger, pain, and guilt beneath the words.
She shrugged and spoke aloud as she sent. In the ship Storm turned on the recorder. “Let us speak of other things since on your custom of killing cubs we shall not agree. There is a thing I am required under our laws to tell you. My friend asked you many questions about the aikizai and yourselves, and she recorded your replies. She also took tissue samples from several hundred of your people and their aikizai. Under the laws of our kind, the information gathered from that which you provided—belongs to you still, and must be returned to you if you request it.”
She raised her gaze, locking it with E’l’ith’s and, in a powerful sending, allowed hints of urgency to creep around her words, although the words themselves and the tones in which she uttered them were bland and calm. The sound recording would show nothing to those who listened later. Only those who received her sending beneath the words would know what she urged.