Page 22 of Quozl


  “Hopefully all of us—myself, you, your humans—will expire of old age with the secret of the colony still intact. Should that not come to pass it would help to have at least two humans who could testify to our nonthreatening posture.”

  “There is good in everything,” opined one of the two philosophers present. “From now on you will record your meetings. These recordings will provide much useful information. You will be given questions to ask. Here there may be despair, but there is also opportunity.

  “Let these two young humans learn about us while we learn about them. When open contact comes in the future we will not have to rely on interpretations of human entertainment transmissions to tell us how humans react in specific situations. We can try out actual scenarios on real specimens.”

  Runs balked at hearing his friends described as “specimens” but was in no position to express moral outrage. At the same time he saw the barely repressed eagerness in the members of the scientific staff. They understood the need for secrecy but at the same time they were desperate for accurate information about humans and how they lived. Here was an opportunity, albeit unexpected, to learn about the natives of Shiraz without revealing the existence of the colony.

  With a start he realized that as deeply as they espoused secrecy, a few hungered for contact as much as he had.

  “I will do the best I can,” he informed his inquisitors. “I am a repair technician, not a trained observer, but I …”

  Apparently there was no end to the morning’s surprises.

  “You will not go back alone. Members of various study groups will accompany you. They will be few, as we do not wish to alarm the humans. If what you have told us is true they will be delighted to meet other Quozl. They know there is a colony. It does no more risk to our existence for them to encounter others, and may even reinforce in some way in their minds the need to keep our presence a secret.”

  Rationally Runs had no reason to object. Emotionally it was different. He had done something unique. Chad and Mindy were his friends. He had done the difficult work.

  Better to share than to die, he reminded himself. It would be stupid to try and keep the humans to himself. Why should he be jealous of other Quozl? Didn’t he want increased contact and exchange of ideas? Not only was he to be spared, his contacts were to continue. What more could he hope for?

  “We must hurry,” he found himself saying. “The warm season is drawing to a close. Soon my friends will be leaving this region with their parents, not to return until the next cycle. If they are worried about me they may decide to begin a search.”

  “Never fear,” said the senior staff member. “You will go to meet them soon. Remember as you do so that you are now acting in an official capacity on behalf of all Quozl. You will receive instruction and training for your new task. You will be provided with an innocuous new title and job description that you can mention to your relatives.

  “You have betrayed them as you have betrayed all of us. The continued safety of the entire colony lies loud in your ears.” She bent hers to emphasize her words.

  “You all worry needlessly. Once some of you have met and talked with my two humans you’ll see how groundless are your fears.”

  “You have not studied their transmissions,” said another member of the study team somberly. “If there is one thing certain about humans it is their unpredictability. I do not see why your pair should be any different. Unlike Quozl they frequently act in an irrational manner.”

  “Make no claims of absolutes for us,” said the Senior reprovingly. “Remember the tale of High-red-Chanter and Thinks-of-Grim before you credit us with what we may not deserve.”

  Like everyone else in the Burrows, Runs-red-Talking knew the story of the two Quozl who had disappeared on the surface many cycles ago. It was an accepted fact that their bones lay decomposing somewhere not far from the colony site, if they hadn’t been devoured by Shirazian scavengers.

  “I do not think that this one,” she was saying in reference to Runs, “is irrational in that fashion.”

  “My profoundest gratitude be yours, Honored Elder.” At that moment Runs would have laid all his jewelry at her feet.

  “No, not irrational,” she concluded. “Merely stupid.”

  Her closing comment did nothing to restrain his joy as he was dismissed. No more hiding in the woods or risking his life to cross the ventilation shaft. The next time he went to meet with his friends he would do so via one of the official exits, in the company of other important Quozl. They might be empowered to kill him if they believed the situation required it, but he would see to it that he did nothing to alarm anyone. He and Chad and Mindy would talk as they always had while others listened and recorded.

  As he strode rapidly toward his living quarters he took time to enter an aggression chamber and demolish a number of armored Quozl images, sending blood and viscera flying. When he emerged he felt confident and refreshed, kowtowing to Elders and favoring passing youths with a generous eye. Only one thing had come out of the meeting that mattered.

  He was going to be able to see his friends again.

  XIII.

  “WE’RE NEVER GOING to see him again.”

  Chad turned away from the water to watch his sister as she shook the thermos bottle containing water and fruit-mix powder. There was a spark of fall in the air today, an intimation of severe storms to come. Soon they would have to leave the mountain fastness for the balmy ozone of L.A.

  “He wouldn’t just vanish forever without saying goodbye.” Chad was insistent on that point without knowing why. How did he know what a Quozl would do. “He’s pretty resourceful. He’ll get in touch with us somehow.”

  “Something’s happened to him for sure.” Mindy set the thermos on the picnic table. “What if he finally miscalculated and fell down that shaft?”

  “I just don’t see that happening to Runs.” Chad came toward the tent, avoiding those rocks that were clad in slippery moss and algae.

  Or maybe I refuse to see that happening, he told himself.

  His sister suddenly looked up at him. “Do you suppose it’s me?” She was doodling on her sketch pad. In addition to her writing skills, Mindy was an artist of middling ability. And I can’t create a decent birthday card, Chad thought ruefully.

  “I don’t think so, Mindy. If he had second thoughts about you, after all these years, I think he would have said something before now.”

  “That’s what I thought, but I wanted your opinion.” She studied the afternoon sky. “We’re due back the day after tomorrow. Dad’s talking about packing up in a couple of weeks. He’s been talking to the old-timers in Boise who say it’s going to be an early winter. They say that every year, but Dad’s getting older. He’s afraid of getting caught in a fall snowstorm.” She looked upriver. “What if he never shows up again? What will you do?”

  “He made me promise never to try and find his home. I wouldn’t even know where to start, which direction to take. I don’t think he trusted me that much.”

  “Maybe it was for your own good,” a high, breathy voice said by way of interruption. “Aren’t you going to offer us something to drink?” Brother and sister whirled in the direction of the unexpected greeting.

  “Runs!” Chad moved to greet his friend, halted when he saw that he wasn’t alone.

  Three other Quozl accompanied him, another male and two females. All wore subdued clothing with a minimum of jewelry and flash scarves. They were clad as inconspicuously as it was possible for a Quozl to be without feeling naked.

  It was easy to tell male from female. Besides subtle differences in attire, the suits of the females had slits marking the location of their pouches. Both were shut, indicating that neither was carrying an infant. They also had slightly more muscular legs, necessary for supporting the weight of a maturing youngster for a full year or more.

  Runs wasted no time introducing his companions, who studied the two tall humans with undisguised interest.

  “
I don’t understand,” said Chad. “I thought your secret was …”

  “Found out,” Runs informed him. “After careful consideration of all alternatives it was determined that not only should contact be maintained with you and Mindy, but that it should be expanded to include members of the colony’s scientific staff. This in no way mitigates the need for continued secrecy on your part.”

  “We understand,” said Mindy.

  “I think that’s great.” Chad stepped forward and reached for the face of the nearest Quozl. She instinctively brought her left hand up as if to strike at his throat. Anticipating as Runs had instructed him, Chad twisted his arm as if to knock hers aside without invading her Sama straight on.

  Her eyes widened. Turning to her colleagues she chattered excitedly in Quozl as they discussed this sophisticated reaction on the part of a clumsy, ignorant native. Chad watched them debate, until finally she turned back to face him afresh.

  If anything, her English was more polished than that of Runs, though her voice was no less whispery. “Where did you learn that?”

  “From my friend.” He indicated Runs, who looked properly humble.

  Unable to restrain herself any longer, Mindy stepped up alongside her brother. Her sketchbook hung from her left hand.

  “So you’re going to study us?” The female’s ears bobbed in a gesture Mindy had learned to identify. “Great! Let’s all sit down and get to know each other.”

  It wasn’t how Chad would have handled it, but he deferred to his sister. She’d always been the one with the instinct for the social graces.

  It must have translated well because the Quozl readily complied, taking seats as best they could manage around the fold-up plastic picnic table. The cold fruit juice was passed around and eagerly sampled.

  Runs downed his without hesitation, having enjoyed such delights previously. He took care not to try and dominate the exchange. It would have cost him status, and his was so low it could not survive further damage. Expeditions such as this one would never exonerate him, but they would go a long way toward making his presence acceptable to his peers.

  With Runs to help explain, the encounter went smoothly, except that Chad and Mindy managed very little sleep since the three newcomers kept them awake long into the night with endless questions about everything from human foods to international relations. The time passed all too quickly, with Chad and Mindy promising to return to the campsite for a longer visit in one week.

  When they returned, after restocking their packs and reassuring their parents, they found the Quozl already camped by the river awaiting them. On the basis of what they’d learned from the previous encounter, the Quozl scientists were able to prepare their questions beforehand. Composing suitable replies kept brother and sister busy every waking hour. In many ways it was akin to meeting Runs-red-Talking for the first time, Chad mused, only multiplied by three.

  The Quozl sometimes seemed guarded in their response to his own questions, though he always received an answer. He supposed some suspicion on their part was understandable. Mindy disagreed, finding them always open and trusting.

  Though offered the use of the tent, the Quozl chose to sleep outside beneath their thin wraps. Their fur protected them against the early morning chill, though it was not thick enough to cope with an Idaho winter. While they could stand and indeed preferred cooler temperatures than humans, they still had their limits.

  The Indian summer was drawing to a close the day they looked on in amazement as Chad frolicked in the deep pool where Runs-red-Talking had nearly drowned. Runs was brave enough to wade out in the water up to his high waist, but his companions would advance no farther than ankle-deep.

  “We are not aquatic by nature or inclination.” The senior female in the party spoke as Chad emerged to dry himself. “We utilize water for grooming and cleansing, but the idea of immersing oneself totally in deep liquid for purposes of recreation is utterly alien to us. Your ability to ‘swim’ is one we do not possess and, frankly, do not envy.” With her ears she indicated the depths of her revulsion.

  Chad toweled away recalcitrant droplets. “Runs and I have spent a lot of time discussing our different tastes. I wouldn’t find squatting in a small dark room very relaxing. Like many humans I suffer from something called claustrophobia.” He tried to explain.

  The Quozl was dubious. “But you know that the walls aren’t going to close in around you.”

  “I’m just telling you what it feels like. For a clinical explanation you’d have to talk to a …”

  A scream interrupted him, made the four of them turn toward the tent. The noise came from beyond, from the edge of the forest.

  “My God.” Chad fumbled frantically with his sandals. “That sounded like Mindy!”

  “Something has frightened her,” said Runs worriedly. He thought of the stuffed monster moldering in the surface study museum. “Perhaps a bear. What do we do if it is a bear?”

  “We run out into …” Chad caught himself. The Quozl couldn’t swim. “Can you climb trees?”

  “Climb a tree?” The senior female sounded doubtful. “We can do many things with trees, but climb? What a novel concept.”

  Their ancestors were not primates, Chad reminded himself. Their fingers were designed for delicate manipulation, not strong gripping. And their legs were impossible.

  His sister emerged from the forest, followed by a rapidly moving bipedal shape. It wasn’t a bear. All of them recognized the other male Quozl. He was running alongside Mindy, paralleling her sprint without breathing hard, and apparently talking rapidly.

  She stumbled to a halt and to Chad’s immense surprise, clutched at him for protection.

  “What’s the matter, what’s wrong?” he was thoroughly confused.

  “He …” she gulped air, “that animal—I was sketching in the woods and he attacked me!”

  “He attacked you?” Her words still made no sense. “What do you mean, he ‘attacked’ you? Are you telling us that he tried to hurt you?” Chad was not alone in his disbelief. He was flanked by a trio of dumbfounded Quozl.

  Mindy was calming down. “Well, no. Not exactly, I guess.”

  “Not exactly? You guess? Mindy, we’re not characters in one of your stories.” She was avoiding his eyes. “Say what you mean.”

  “All right.” Her face came up and she stared hard at the Quozl. “He tried to put the make on me.”

  “Say what?”

  “Do I have to act it out?” Sarcasm had replaced the anger in her voice.

  The Quozl under scrutiny, Turns-theme-Over, was a respected member of the surface studies staff. As he responded he was careful to stand well clear of what he perceived to be Mindy’s Sama. His voice was controlled and devoid of emotion, but his ears were frantic.

  “I fear I have been the progenitor of a misunderstanding.”

  “Misunderstanding mild!” Runs had to recite his very favorite stanzas to keep himself under control. “If you have violated Sama …”

  “Wait a minute, everybody slow down!” Chad considered the words of the Quozl and of his sister. They involved a subject which the Quozl dealt with much more openly than humans. It was something he’d been reluctant to discuss with Mindy. After all, she was his sister. Now he saw that he’d been remiss.

  All of which notwithstanding there was something peculiar about what had or had not happened. Turns-theme-Over was an alien, for crissakes.

  The Quozl tried to explain himself, but in Quozl fashion it took him an hour just to get past the requisite preliminary apologies. Chad could sense his bewilderment. He had no idea what if anything he’d done wrong. When he had finally calmed down some, Chad took over for him.

  “What exactly,” he asked his sister, “did Turns-theme-Over do?”

  Now that the initial shock had faded, Mindy sounded uncertain. “Well, he touched me.”

  “Touched you where?”

  She bugged her eyes at him, then replied. “Here, and here.”

 
“What makes you so sure the contact was of a sexual nature?” Chad was surprised at his own openness. All those conversations with Runs-red-Talking had done some good. No therapist could have achieved more with a gangly, shy teenager. “Turns-theme-Over is a specialist in human affairs. He might simply have been trying to obtain information of a statistical nature.”

  “This may come as a surprise to you, little brother, but that’s a line I’ve heard before.”

  Turns-theme-Over was anxious to defend himself, grateful as he was for Chad’s intercession. “Again let me plead misunderstanding.” He sounded honestly hurt and concerned. “I don’t see what I did to cause the human to react in such a fashion.”

  Runs allowed a touch of sternness to creep into his tone. “Are you not, after all your studies, familiar with the strange human taboos in this area?”

  “Forgive me.” Chad knew what it took for the senior scientist to request forgiveness of Runs, a Quozl inferior in status to himself. Turns was truly apologetic. “I had grown so relaxed in their company I had forgotten. That is why research into this matter is so important, so that we may come to fully understand each other.”

  “That doesn’t mean your studies can be carried out on a personal level,” Chad admonished him.

  Green-by-Shadow spoke up. “We have firsthand knowledge of male human anatomy.” Chad was familiar with the story of the unfortunate first encounter between human and Quozl. “No similar opportunity has henceforth presented itself for examination of the other gender. Turns-theme-Over’s actions may be explained if not excused by his professional enthusiasm.”

  “He was enthusiastic, all right.” Mindy stepped away from her brother, hands on hips. “I’m not taking my clothes off for him or anyone else.”

  It was growing more and more difficult for Chad to treat the situation seriously, now that it was clear that his sister had not been injured.

  “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed to undress in front of a Quozl?” He indicated Theme-turns-Over. “He’s interested in you as a specimen, not a partner.”