The Nitra had learned the catapult from the early settlers. Only children used it amongst the tribes, but most children became very, very good at its use. Tani, with a naturally accurate eye and superior materials, carried a weapon Storm had made for her which could be lethal at close ranges or crippling at a slightly longer distance. Even at thirty or forty yards it could be painful and distracting. She removed her hands from her pockets as they neared the waiting duo.
To the surprise of all three it was not E’l’ith who greeted them first. Instead, Saaraoo paced to meet them as they halted, facing Prauo and his other. He mind-sent:
*I greet the son of my kin, returned. I greet Prauo and his Mind-Sister, Laris. Be welcome among us, Two Who Are Truly One.* He invested the last five words with an emphatic significance so that the three standing opposite understood it was both a title and an honor given. But it was the initial naming that caught at Laris. Without thought she blurted out a question, backing it by mind-sending the same words. “You say ‘my kin.’ Is Prauo blood-related to you?”
The sending was clear and powerful in return. *He is the son of my litter-sister, her only living cub who has a true liomsa. Greatly will she rejoice that he is returned to us.*
Saaraoo gazed imperturbably back as Laris, Tani, and Prauo all gaped at her. Laris felt a pang of terror, Relatives? Prauo had found real kin; would it be now that he left her? On the ship the three men, who could not receive what the aikiza had mind-sent, could only watch and worry. Something seemed to have frozen their friends to the ground out there. Let the gods grant it was not bad news!
Chapter Thirteen
There was silence as the two sides continued to gaze at each other, before Laris finally spoke aloud, mind-sending at the same time.
“Is Prauo’s dam still alive?”
*She is,* Saaraoo sent back.
“Can we meet her?”
This time his sending was full of warmth. She could taste the affection for his sister, and his delight at being able to restore to her one long since feared dead or forever lost to them. *My kin-female comes already to greet the returned one. My mind-sister, E’l’ith, also wishes you to be welcome.*
They were managing the language better now, and far more quickly than the women would have expected. Laris thought it was their experience in mind-touch, hers with Prauo, and Tani’s with her team. They were unconsciously translating the emotions and gestalt-blocks which went with the words, and that helped them absorb the language far more quickly than would be possible for others who did not have the beast-master gift. In a way, that bothered her. She found she liked this pair and she didn’t want to, not if she might lose Prauo to them.
Tani said quietly then, “But those others of your people who met us on the seacoast were not so eager to know us. Nor to warn us of danger. They would have seen my mate’s kin dead for lack of warning, and the one of your kind silenced his aikiza who would have spoken.” She quickly outlined the events on the beach and the attack of the sea-beast. Her accusing gaze met that of the liomsa, who listened. “What assurance have we that we may trust here?”
E’l’ith and Saaraoo both nodded an acknowledgment. The undertone of E’l’ith’s words in reply was sorrow. “I understand that having been endangered once, you are reluctant to risk another trap. I can only swear upon the life of my aikiza that we offer nothing but welcome; we take nothing from you but friendship. You spoke earlier of a T’s’ai. Was he the one who failed in his duty to guests?”
“He was.” Laris’s voice was chilled with the memory of Logan’s danger.
“And perhaps two others of his people walked with him?”
“They were introduced as T’s’en and T’k’ee,” Tani informed her.
E’l’ith gave a sound that both women suspected was the native version of a sigh: A soft, hissing whistle as she exhaled. The girls could feel a brief conversation between the liomsa and her aikiza. It ended with a word they could just pick up. “Outcasts.” Before the liomsa spoke to them again directly.
“Three united in their folly, leading other fools over a cliff. It is a long tale. May we tell it another time? On my aikiza’s life, I will warn you of any dangers here. I so swear.”
Prauo had remained silent all this time, listening and evaluating. Now he broke his silence, sending to them all. *I trust Saaraoo. Let me remain here alone, sister, if you would return.” His mouth opened in a feline grin as Laris squawked an incoherent and indignant refusal of that. *So I knew you would say. Then let us sit and talk; maybe we can find answers between us to the questions we have?*
In reply Saaraoo flopped comfortably to the ground, stretched like a kitten, and rolled over to rise into a sphinx posture. E’l’ith folded herself neatly to the ground and sat beside him.
“Ask your questions. I do not promise answers you will like, or even answers if it touches on some matter we consider improper. But I can at least swear I will tell you no lies. Because I would be honest, I tell you that those of my friends who wait for me receive what is said here. They relay it to most of our people.” She waited.
“Is it true you can’t gather together in larger numbers?” Tani was remembering some of what she’d heard on the seacoast. As she spoke she fingered the tiny button on her collar, hoping Storm was getting all of this on record. Maybe the record wouldn’t have a sound recording for much of this, but it would have the pictures, and a competent alien specialist could learn a lot from those alone.
“That is true. Our healers believe that this is part of our mind-gift. The more of us together above perhaps thirty duos, the more it pains us until we can no longer remain close but must scatter. Our healers think it could also be that while we learned to touch, mind to mind, it may be that we have not yet learned fully how to shield ourselves when we are together in numbers.”
She shrugged. “Our historians believe otherwise. They think it may have once been a survival trait, necessary in the long, dark times when disease slew and slew—and struck first and hardest at larger gatherings.”
Laris and Tani nodded; that made sense. Laris leaned forward. “What about Prauo? Did you let him go, or was he really stolen?” She remembered she hadn’t been supposed to ask that question. Oh, well. It was done now and the reply could be enlightening.
*Both, sister to my kin,* was Saaraoo’s reply. *He was stolen, yes, but we chose not to take him back, hoping that the one who seized him might bond with him, and Prauo would thus survive.*
Tani was onto that last word like a cat pouncing. “ ‘Survive.’ It is then a matter of survival that your aikizai bond with you?”
*Even so.* He left it at that and the women exchanged glances, unsure if they could press the question without offense. They decided in that quick exchange to keep silent until they knew the people better.
“Why did T’s’ai risk Logan’s life?” Laris asked at last. “He even made his aikiza say nothing, and the aikiza wanted to, I could see.”
“Ah, to understand that, you must understand our beliefs. Those of my people here, and Saaraoo’s also, believe that even those who find no aikiza should be treated with respect. The cubs die young and without intelligence. My kind live alone forever and are much the less for it.”
*We all lose when there is no bonding,* Saaraoo assured her. *Your kin, mine, and those who are unborn.*
Laris had the glimmering of a thought from all of this. In a tight send she spoke to Prauo alone: *Brother-in-fur, does it seem to you that E’l’ith is suggesting that our bonding is what gives you intelligence?*
*I think it may be so. But let us leave the questions on that until another time. If anything is likely to be a matter best left undiscussed, I would say that is. Later, once we know these ones better, I can perhaps ask my kin who come.* He felt Laris’s agreement and they returned to the general conversation.
E’l’ith rose again to her feet and bowed slightly to them. “Prauo’s dam will be here after the sun is at its highest. But I think you grow tired. It
is heavy work speaking with those who do not know the tongue so well; we must slow our thoughts, make them clear, and send strongly. Return to your ship and rest. Saaraoo will come for you when it is time.” She strolled away casually, her aikiza following. Abruptly left to themselves, Laris and Tani grinned.
“No long good-byes in this culture, apparently,” Tani said.
*Not quite,* Prauo corrected. *I sensed a reason for their departure. What it was I do not know, but it isn’t their usual custom.*
Laris nodded. “I think I caught something of that. There was a very tight mind-send, coming to E’l’ith as a message from elsewhere. It was right after that she found they had to go. I can’t be sure, Tani, but I think someone told her something important and she had to rush away to find out more. It may be she has to do something about whatever she was told.”
“Interesting. We’ll hope to hear about it once Prauo’s dam arrives.”
“Or we may not,” Laris said wryly. “There are secrets here.”
She strolled back to the ship, firmly blocking off her worries and content to enjoy the warm air and the bright sunshine, the unfamiliar but pleasant smell of the nearby forest, and the sight of two of the small birdlike creatures as they chased each other above her. Yes, she was sure there were secrets here, although it would take time to discover them.
She repeated that comment to Logan and Storm later over a meal. Storm nodded, but not entirely in agreement.
“It seems like that on any world. But usually they aren’t deliberate secrets. They’re things everyone knows there that you don’t. Often it simply doesn’t occur to the people that you don’t know and don’t know the right questions to ask to find out.” He paused to consider some of what the women had been telling them.
“I think there may be a few things on this world I’d like to know more about, at that. This question of bonding and cub survival for one thing. And exactly what beliefs T’s’ai and his friend had that are so different from E’l’ith’s ideas. I got the impression from what you say, that the difference—and the disagreement—on some of their beliefs is fundamental and not merely minor points of culture.”
“It felt like that to me. When the subject came up, that’s when they started talking to each other.” Laris paused to consider what she had received in mind-send at such times. “I couldn’t get anything but a few wisps of emotions. E’l’ith was angry—and disgusted, too, I think. Prauo, you got more?”
*Only one thing. They repeated the word that means “outcasts.” And there was a mind-taste of really strong disapproval around it. I got the impression that they didn’t just disapprove of T’s’ai and his friends so much as that they loathed the whole way they believed. As if T’s’ai and his group could be perfectly acceptable as people if they didn’t have these ideas.”
Captain D’Argeis studied the faces about him, before speaking carefully. “I would recommend you move cautiously. When passionate belief without evidence comes in the door, common sense tends to fly out of the window. Fanatics are more dangerous than any loaded weapon. Unfortunately, fanatics tend to have loaded weapons.”
Storm endorsed that. “Tani, you and Laris are not to discuss anything E’l’ith seems uncomfortable about. If she makes a flat statement, don’t argue.”
Laris looked puzzled. “What sort of statement?”
“Anything with a religious imperative, for example. If she tells you her ancestors were gods or that her world is flat, accept that it may be her own honest belief. Don’t tell her she’s wrong.”
“But if she said that she would be.”
Storm exchanged a smile with Tani. “My own ancestors, and Tani’s as well, believed that the gods created us and that we were their children. Back in history Terrans believed their world was flat, and if you sailed too far across the ocean you could fall right off the edge of the world.”
Laris gaped at him. “Anyone in space can see that a world is round.”
Tani nodded at her. “Laris, they believed that way a long time before we went into space. People in those days lived in small villages; often they never left their hometowns their entire lives let alone going into space. They couldn’t see the truth.
“What Storm is trying to say is that you can’t reason with fanatics anyway. They believe what they believe because they believe it. It’s a matter of faith. Even if you could bring them all the proof in the world they still wouldn’t change their minds, and if you try you only reveal yourself to them as a heretic. Someone to attack.”
“But—”
Storm shook his head very firmly. “Just accept that’s the way it is. If you try arguing some things with E’l’ith and the others, you could endanger us all.”
That Laris could understand. “I’ll be careful. I won’t argue.”
“Good. Then let’s eat and relax for a while. If Prauo’s mother is on her way and Saaraoo will let us know when she arrives, we need to have only one person keeping an eye on the viewscreens. The rest of us can do other things. I plan to catch up on my report to the Patrol for a start.”
Tani looked up at that. “Is that a two-way system, Storm? Are they letting you and the captain know how their search for the Antares is going as well?”
“I’m told they’d let me know if they find the ship. Since all they’ve done so far is discover marginal planets, incur minor injuries doing that, and annoy the supply officer who’s finding his stores raided more often than he likes, I gather there isn’t a lot to tell.”
Everyone grinned. They were all aware of supply officers, They tended to hoard and were not happy when asked to hand out supplies from their cache of lovingly stowed items . . . some of which they’d held on to for years.
“These planets?” the captain questioned. “Nothing inhabited, nothing worth surveying?”
“Nothing interesting so far,” Storm replied. “One planet has life, but nothing to get excited about. It has amphibians with the size and intelligence level of a very smart frog. The cruiser’s xenobiologist thinks they could be the coming species for that world—in another few million years.
“They found two other worlds, both of which are marginal and would cost more time and money to terraform than they’d be worth. Very long-term projects if they were chosen, but the patrol sent the specifications to High Command anyhow. Still no sign of the Antares, but they have a lot more places to search as yet.”
Laris sighed. “And Prauo’s world is Earth-type but we couldn’t colonize it.”
“No, and if they’re destined to have a civil war over their beliefs, we may not stay in contact, either,” Tani added. “The Patrol and Terran Command don’t like trading with worlds that could explode into violence. They’ve had too much experience in the way Terrans can become caught up in that sort of thing.”
Laris looked horrified. “You mean once we leave this world we might not ever be able to come back again?”
Storm intervened at that point. “No, Prauo’s a legal citizen of this world by Terran law. He’d always be able to return to this world unless their own laws forbade him. I also suspect that under this world’s laws or customs, you’d fall into the same category but the rest of us won’t. However, that wouldn’t prevent us coming back on a ship, just so long as we don’t land, and so long as we leave orbit if we’re ordered to by planetary authorities.”
“Phew!” Laris exhaled vigorously. “That’s all right then. I wouldn’t want Prauo not to be able to go home when he wants.”
“Nor would we,” Storm assured her. “Now, before we talk to anyone out there again, I want us all to watch the whole recording of their murals. I’m slowing it down so we can look closely at everything. We’ll watch all the way down one side of the walls, then the other. Make notes on anything you want to question or comment on later.”
The playback was already set up and he had only to touch a button. At once they were surrounded by an apparently solid hologram of the building. But only one wall revealed the brilliant murals; the oth
er remained dark and blank. They watched in silence until the recording halted at the third door. Then it began again, the other wall’s murals gliding by them with exquisite slowness.
The recording ran out and Storm shut down the projector, dialed up the room lights, and invited discussion.
Logan coughed to announce his words. “I don’t think there’s a lot to say. Whoever painted those murals did a wonderful job.”
“Not ‘whoever,’ ” Tani contradicted. “They cover a long time—not just decades, I’d say more like close on a thousand years. It may have been the task of a guild of painters. Perhaps a large family with the skills to paint.”
“Okay, so they’ve done a great job,” Logan agreed. “But that’s a minor issue. The point is that those scenes are clear. I don’t think there’s too much doubt what basically happened, maybe just in the details, which aren’t important right now.”
“Captain?” Storm questioned. “How did you see this?”
“I’d say the lad is right enough. The two wall murals were meant to work together. I’d guess that they use them as a demonstration for their young. They walk them to the end of one section, then turn and walk them back along the other wall. The mural provides a continuous narrative.”
He leaned back in his seat. “Let me see if I can sum it up and you can all argue with my conclusions. I’m no expert, but a ship’s captain does have to know a number of things and history has always been a hobby of mine.” He touched the button and started the recording once again. “We don’t know how long ago this happened. Storm thinks it could have been as much as five thousand years. Let’s just keep times indefinite and say a very long time ago.”
He indicated the first mural section. “So, a very long time ago the humanoids amongs these people were divided into countries or territories of some sort. They had a war between them, and like all wars it wasn’t pleasant. Here they had biological weapons and something similar to nuclear power. They razed the buildings with that and tossed in biological bombs to make things worse.”