As the first month passed Prauo found his own amusements apart from games and time with his friends. He and Laris had discovered early on in their association that his form of sight was similar to hers. He could see an extra—and indescribable—color, and he could see better in the dark, while having slightly less vision in very bright sunlight, when his sight apparently dimmed somewhat to protect his eyes.
However, these minor differences meant that he could still see anything Laris could—in color, and three dimensionally. So over the years he’d learned to access computers. Modern computers were all voice-activated, but for the voice-disabled, most also had included software, with a keyboard that could be modified, and which allowed Prauo to browse as he wished. The pads of his paws were flexible and could be used almost like fingers, so that with some keyboard adjustments he, too, could use the computer.
In the circus where he and Laris had grown up, he’d had to be very careful about doing this in the two years prior to their escape. Now, on a ship where all knew him to be an intelligent being, there were no restrictions, and he spent hour upon hour using the terminal in their cabin, listening and watching.
Often Laris was with him, watching history programs as they discussed what they saw and marveled at how different life could be. Then Logan would seek them out and drag them off to play foolish games of tag or catch in the gym, while Ho and Hing demanded attention and received it. Prauo liked the small beasts and they liked him. Mandy was friendly, too. Only the coyotes were still suspicious.
Prauo was slightly hurt when another of his friendly overtures to the coyotes had been ignored. *Do they think I will attack them?*
Storm sat beside him. “No, I think it’s more that they feel you aren’t natural. To their minds you should fit into one of three categories. Humans, beast-team animals, and ordinary animals. You aren’t any of those.”
*I like them,* Prauo sent sadly.
“How have you been relating to them?”
Prauo suddenly perked up. *As an ordinary animal. I have tried to play games with them, but without speaking in case it distressed them.*
“Just be yourself as you are with humans. Be intelligent; send to them in speech. See if that helps.”
It must have sorted out some of the coyotes’ confusion because six weeks into the journey, they were playing with Prauo when they wished, and increasingly they would communicate with him in their own limited way.
Storm had also been watching Laris over this initial period as she interacted with the beast team animals. Ho and Hing ran to her whenever she appeared. He’d noticed a number of times that she was able to understand their requests, and he suspected it was true with Mandy and the coyotes as well. She did not press herself on them, but the awareness of each for the others was present.
At the end of that six weeks Storm was startled at his own thoughts and the possibilities there might be when he took that idea to a conclusion. They were all sitting around the dinner table in the mess room when he sprung his thoughts over Laris’s abilities on his three human companions.
“The coyotes haven’t had anything to do with non-humans before. They’re genetically enhanced to communicate with those who have the empathic gifts anyway and none of the non-human races we’ve met so far have those.”
He addressed Prauo directly. “You do, and it’s my guess . . .” He paused as he considered what a bombshell this might be. “It’s my guess that you could be officially trained as a beast master.”
Laris sat there, her mouth half-open. Prauo made a small chirping sound, as if someone had nudged him unexpectedly. It was the big feline who responded first, mind-sending to Storm and the others.
*How would that sit with your kind, who would train me, and what sort of beast could team with me?*
Logan dived into speech. “It should be fine with most humans. I mean, I’ve never had any problems, the captain likes you, and Dad and Versha and Port Manager Gauda all accepted that you were intelligent, didn’t they?” He laughed abruptly. “And if we find a whole world of you and make treaties, then you’d have rights under our laws. No one would dare say you weren’t a person.”
Tani looked at her husband. “Prauo, in down-time between war missions, Storm taught basic classes to new beast masters. He could teach you, and it’s obvious what kind of beasts you’d need in a team. Something with hands, and others with wings. A paraowl like Mandy would be good, and I remember the carras in your circus. What about two of them, if any have been enhanced?”
Prauo sat. He blinked slowly once or twice as he thought. Then he sent, *If Storm would teach me I would be happy. Perhaps we could practice with Ho and Hing if it would do them no harm. They like and trust me, I believe.*
Storm nodded agreement to that. “They do. All right then. We’ll start basics with you and Laris at nine-hour ship-time.”
Laris squeaked. “Me too? But—”
Storm eyed her with quiet amusement. “Yes, you. I watched you in the circus and felt the touch when you worked with your tigerbats and the carra. I feel it when you speak silently with Prauo. You know you have the ability but I think for you, Prauo may be your team. Perhaps in the end neither of you will want others in the link. We’ll just have to see once you’ve had some basic training.”
Laris grinned. “I guess we’ll find out at nine tomorrow.”
They did, and it quickly became clear that both could learn beast-master basics with moderate ease. Training the duo provided Storm with a new interest. The two trainees learned at different rates and worked better in different areas. But that was when they worked together.
With Ho and Hing as test subjects both were equal. Storm wondered several times if Prauo and Laris’s mental link, which had developed over the years, of mental bonding together was not the reason for that equality. Over the next month, as the training advanced further, he concluded that their link with beast animals was good, but between themselves it was often at an almost instinctive level.
The third and fourth month of travel were filled with interest for the three of them. Storm taught not only the basics but also for their amusement, some of his war training, games of hide and seek, sabotage, and strike. For that they reconfigured part of the cargo hold, using a program Laris found on one of the Patrol disks Versha had given her.
The program had probably been intended to help acclimate new officers to the differences that might be found on other worlds, but it included sub-routines on hunting, setting up camp in dangerous territory, stalking food animals, and being stalked by predator animals. Storm incorporated the disk into his teaching and for the final three months of the trip into sector ten, a good time was had by all—even the captain, who watched benignly as his temporary crew played.
By now he had heard Laris’s history and how she had come to be the last of the Trehannans. He’d shipped with the previous ship’s owner—Laris’s kinsman’s partner—for much of their lives, and he knew how the old man had valued his original Trehannan partners in trade. It was why the ship, and everything else the man had made, had in the end been willed to any surviving Trehannan.
The lass was learning well, and she was generous and kind. Besides, it was possible Captain D’Argeis would end his days on the ship he loved; that thought pleased him beyond measure. Once this trip was over he would have to sort out a new crew; he would look for decent lads he could train from the start. Lads with the initial certificates who’d not look down on a Garand but enjoy the greater room and the sense of belonging. The Lady needed five crew if they were trading and it seemed as if they would be.
“Free Trader,” Laris had called him. It wasn’t a bad name. There were a few starting up again since the war had ended. Ships that were not affiliated to any of the major companies but were single vessels often owned by their captain, or sometimes by a small combine. Yes, he guessed that was him. A free trader out of Arzor.
When he found the ship had been left to a young girl he’d feared his life as an acting capta
in would be over. Maybe he’d been wrong about that. It could be just beginning all over again, and somehow he had a suspicion that his life could be more interesting—if not more strange—from now on. He watched Storm, Laris and the meerkats play and mused on the twists of fate that could catch a man in their coils.
The Trehannan Lady swept into the unsurveyed portion of sector ten after six months of voyaging. A bell dinged on the control panel and an alarm sounded quietly in the captain’s cabin. He noted the information and relayed it over breakfast.
“Don’t go leaping to any conclusions that now we’re here we’ll find something immediately,” he warned his attentive crew. “Space is large and anything you’re looking for is small in comparison.”
“But we’re looking for a planet,” Laris protested.
“And there are hundreds out there. It’s not finding one that is the difficulty, it’s finding that particular one you want. Pretty much the only way is to go and look at each one that fits the parameters you program into the ship’s computers. The program will reject ninety-nine out of a hundred planets, but you still have to look at that hundredth.”
Storm agreed. “He’s right, but I have a chip Versha had made for me. We were able to estimate the world’s gravity, air content, and possible spectrum from studying Prauo. That information has been made into a program with wide limits, and the ship’s computers will scan for a world that fits them. We start searching and hope something turns up. And we can land this ship and refuel on other worlds that are suitable for such a landing, so we should be okay to search for as long as we want to. Just don’t get too excited. This is likely to take time, and lots of it.”
It was as well he’d warned them. Two months later they’d examined four worlds that fitted loosely into the programmed parameters. None was quite Earth-type, although one could have been after several hundred years of terraforming. They stayed longer in orbit around that world, making records and taking samples.
“If we don’t find anything Earth-type, this planet could still be of interest to the Patrol and Terran High Command,” Storm noted. “It could be terraformed easily enough; it’d just take time. But with something so close they’d only have to lay the groundwork and then sit back and wait a while. They could decide when we get back, if that world’s worth starting to terraform further down the track.”
“So Versha won’t be in trouble for giving Patrol equipment to civilians?” Laris wanted confirmation. She liked the warmhearted officer who’d helped her keep Prauo when there were initial doubts about her ownership and his intelligence.
Logan grinned at her. “Versha’s autonomous on Arzor anyhow. The only ones who could come down on her are High Command, and they aren’t likely to bother over a bit of minor rule-bending. But with the records on this planet, I suspect her Command superiors would overlook it even if she’d broken a few minor rules completely. If we find nothing else, this planet is enough to cover everything she did for us.”
“But it isn’t Prauo’s world.” Laris sighed.
“Not yet,” Tani promised. “But we still have several hundred worlds to look at.”
Six months later Laris felt they’d just about done that. The captain had said space was large—but she’d never quite understood before just how large it was. She was reading in her cabin, with Prauo sprawled on his own bunk, when her computer chimed an alert. Laris looked up and gave the order.
“Computer on.”
“Message for you, Laris.”
Prauo blinked lazily. *I thought we were not in contact with any but those on the Patrol ship?*
*We aren’t, and they wouldn’t be saying anything private to me. It would have come through on the main transmitter. It has to be something Versha or Brad left on the disk to be time activated and downloaded to me.* To the computer, she spoke aloud.
“Open message file, deliver message.”
“Laris, this is from Versha and Brad. Brad speaking. I continued to check on your family and finally discovered more records. You may find this interesting. The records on Kowar had been slightly altered, apparently so the authorities in charge of the camp could both retain you longer and be paid at the higher rate applicable to younger children.” Laris gave a small gasp. Just how old was she really?
“It seems to have been a habit with the camp administration to drop the ages of incoming orphan children by a year and it is clear they did this for you. When you came to live with us on Arzor you were not sixteen years old as you believed, but seventeen. From the records we have checked we know your birthday. Happy birthday, Laris. Today you are eighteen, and you are now legally an adult under Terran Federation law. Furthermore—”
Versha’s voice broke in and continued smoothly, “I have discussed Prauo with the Patrol and High Command. It is agreed that as there is no reason to consider him as anything but an intelligent being, he is hereby granted autonomy and freedom of the Federation under law. He is not your property but is a free being. This information will be shared with all worlds within Terran space and under Terran law. Should he wish to apply for any form of documentation to prove this claim he is entitled to these as a right, and they will be provided upon application.”
Then came the final words in unison. “Happy eighteenth birthday, Laris. Happy citizen day, Prauo.” The message ended with a long triumphant flourish of trumpets. At which Laris laughed until she had trouble catching her breath.
“I’m eighteen, I have a spaceship, I have credits, and you’re free. I guess I’ll never have another day as good as this one.”
Prauo eyed her, amusement leaking across their bond. *Somehow I suspect there may be other days as happy, furless-sister, but perhaps few better. Yes, it is good to know I am accounted a free intelligent being. Except that . . . * He waited for her attention to focus on him, then made his mind-voice disillusioned and cynical-sounding:
*I’m sure the government agreed I’m intelligent because only beings so listed pay taxes.*
That was it so far as Laris was concerned. The mental picture of Prauo rushing in to the Arzor tax offices to pay out a percentage of his grass-hen catch completed her descent into hilarity. She laughed until tears rolled down her face and she was only just recovering when Tani tapped on the cabin door. Prauo activated the door-opener, and Tani entered to find her young friend apparently in tears.
“Laris! Dearling, what’s wrong? Has something happened? Are you all right? Why are you crying?”
Laris giggled through tears. “Everything is wonderful, I’m so happy, I’ve gained a year I didn’t know about, and . . . and . . . Prauo has to pay taxes.” That set her off again with Prauo joining in, making the quiet half-growling barks which were his own laughter.
Tani stared. “Are you both all right?”
“No!” Laris wailed, and reached out to signal the computer to repeat its message. Tani listened before her face lit with understanding and sympathy.
“Oh, I see. That’s great, Laris. You’re eighteen, and Prauo’s a free citizen. What was all that about taxes though?” Laris explained it, and this time it was Tani who exploded into laughter.
“You don’t know the half of it. Prauo could pay that way on Arzor. It’s been known for frawn ranchers to hand over frawns to be sold to pay their taxes. Arzor’s constitution from the very early days provides that anything that is of salable value may be used to pay. The tax office actually maintains a a corral and a warehouse near the spaceport where they store animals or other items they’ve accepted for tax.”
Laris stopped laughing finally and wiped her eyes. “But what about Prauo? Does he have to pay taxes now he’s a person?”
“Only on income.”
“He doesn’t have an income.”
“Then he doesn’t pay taxes.”
“You mean if he never made a credit, just lived off the land, he wouldn’t ever owe anything?”
“That’s pretty much right. It was the way they set it up in the old days. There’s even a lower limit and
if you earn less than that each year, you still don’t owe anything. Even in this generation there’ve been a few people that has applied to. Ask Storm—he’ll tell you I’m right. The uncle of one of the hands on Brad’s ranch is like that. Jhan Benro’s uncle is a fossicker out on the edges and around the Big Blue.”
Laris stared at her with interest. “What’s a fossicker, what’s the Big Blue?”
“A fossicker picks up catseye gems, herbs, unusual bits and pieces. He doesn’t have a proper mine or mining rights; he just scratches anything he finds from the land’s surface. Most fossickers never make more than a few hundred credits a year beyond basic living costs. Jhan’s uncle has never paid even a quarter-credit tax in his life. Oh, and the Big Blue is the main desert on Arzor. You’ve ridden on the fringe of it every time we left the Basin to hunt. It’s mostly unexplored because of the dangers.”
Prauo returned to the original subject of taxes and affected a relieved tone as he sent, *So I won’t have to share my grass hens?*
At that moment Storm entered with Logan in tow, just as the girls doubled over laughing once again. It took some time for explanations, but at length Storm nodded.
“The useful thing about that is Prauo’s being a citizen. If we do find his people it’s evidence to them that Terrans accept other races as equals.”
Laris scowled. “You don’t think that was the only reason, do you?” Tani glared at Storm, so he took a few seconds to take her hand and squeeze it reassuringly before turning back to Laris.
“You know Brad and Versha. Would they think that way?” Both women shook their heads. “No, of course not. But High Command has to take everything into consideration. I’m quite sure if they weren’t convinced Prauo was intelligent, they wouldn’t have listened to Versha and granted Terran citizenship. But since they are convinced, they deal with two possibilities at once. They do the right thing, and they may also give a good—and true—impression to his people if we find them. Doesn’t that make sense?”
“Yes, I guess so.”