The Companions

  “I don’t want to endanger that project, and I don’t want to interfere with my brother’s contract. He’s trying to learn the language of the Mossen, and he hasn’t had a chance to get anywhere yet.”

  “What are Mossen?”

  “The things, the flame-shaped things, the ones who dance in a circle, different colors.”

  Gavi laughed. “You mean words!”

  “He’s trying to learn the language of the Mossen, yes.”

  “Not language of words. Words are language.”

  “Ai sai,” said Behemoth. “Wrrns.”

  Gavi looked at him. “You smelled them?”

  Behemoth replied. “Ess.”

  “The dog did not tell you?” asked Gavi.

  “He did tell me,” I snarled, enlightenment hitting me in the face like a splash of frigid water. I was furious at myself. “Behemoth told me, and I wasn’t listening! Not properly. It isn’t color, is it? Each one of them has a different smell!”

  “True,” said Gavi, with dancing eyes. “You know! How wonderful. No one up there knows. I learned their talk when I was tiny, only little child. Come out, I am showing you.” She lifted the blanket and moved out into the night, calling back, “Bring your light thing.”

  I brought my torch. Gavi was across the clearing, amid a thick growth. When I approached, Gavi took the torch, and said, “There. See!”

  The plant had a rosette of huge, basal fronds, longer than I was tall, from the center of which grew even longer, arching stems, with a row of tiny bell shapes hanging under each one.

  “I see it,” I growled. “There was something like that on the moon.”

  “This is talker,” said Gavi, pointing at the plant. “Those hanging down are words, not ripe yet. They grow in order, each one set of smells, each one word. They swell up, they make gas inside like balloon, they get little tentacles at bottom, for holding them down, little tentacles on sides to hold other words on each side, each one fitting only between foreword and after-word, they get ripe, all at once, break free and they go dancing, dancing, all across world, telling World what is message, getting riper and riper, being smellier you know? When all ripe, they float up, go pop, seeds fall, new talkers grow. These ones, they are message from World.”

  “In smells!”

  “In smells, yes. Until we are getting here, mosses did not see, did not hear, but they could smell. This is message to World saying maybe, ‘Eat human beings,’ or maybe ‘No more moss-demons,’ or something else.”

  “And you can…sniff these words?”

  “When they ripen. I have very good nose. All our people have very good noses. That was our profession, long ago, being noses. When I was very, very small, I come down from up there to here. Baby is no threat to anything. Baby only plays. So, I learned all smells. A smell like morning means morning. A smell like death means death. Death also means stop or finish. Morning means start, begin. Each person has smell, but there is also a smell for all of us. That smell says human. Smell of blood means hurt, or kill. World can make words saying kill all humans, or some humans, or single ones of us.”

  “Or to let us live.”

  “True, but maybe not…dependable. This is why our people live up in abysses. They do not know moss language, as I do, but they know it is safer up there. We stay up there, nothing bothers us. When army comes down, very soon now, everyone is wearing armor and going forced march, very fast, so by time message growing against them in one place, they are gone already. When they are coming back, they are coming different way, where no messages are. So we are doing it, each time.”

  “What do you know about the moon?” I asked.

  “The green moon? It is growing and shrinking like stories of Earthmoon. Only this one turns around, so it isn’t always same side we see. Sometimes we see light flashes on it, like harvesters…”

  “You said, you came down here as a child. Alone? Ah. Then you had parents like mine, gone or dead or something?”

  “Something,” said Gavi, solemnly. “Yours?”

  “Dead. When I was young.”

  “Ah. So you are lonely child. Then you find him, your husband…”

  “Witt. Yes. Then I was not lonely.” At that moment, I was sure that this was true. Or should have been sure.

  “But he has been gone many years. Can you not find someone else?”

  I stared at her, seeing nothing there but compassion and true interest, to which I answered truthfully. “No. No one else is even…interesting to me, in that way…I have tried a few times to become interested, but, it doesn’t work. When Witt went, I think that part of me went, too.”

  “Ah,” said Gavi Norchis. Then she was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. “He was first man for you?”

  “Oh, oh yes.”

  There was a momentary silence. I broke the quiet. “What do you do now? What is your work?”

  “I am scent mistress. It is laudable calling. We are regarding scent very highly, as science. So, I am scent mistress, and I use scent for moving people, for curing, for calming, for making them fall in love, making them hate, too, if I choose.” She drew herself up, proudly. “I am best one, because I understand what I am doing, and others do not. Others make up words, this smell is label ak, that one is label uk. Then they make rules about ak and uk, ak is of category warm, uk is of category cold. Ok is of color red, ik is of color blue. Rules meaning nothing, just someone making up system. Like in olden times, people making up rules about stars, planets, called…”

  “Astrology,” I offered.

  “That, yes. This star influences that, this planet something else. Even on Jardinconnu we were having them: ‘For many credits, I will do plan of stars and planets for you to keep away from danger.’ Foolish men are always buying such things. Ha-ha. Mankind does that, makes up systems, even when no sense in them.”

  I smiled, knowing she was right. “Our need to control our future by understanding the rules is greater than our need to know the truth.”

  “Is being true!” Gavi laughed. “When they follow system that means nothing about labels meaning nothing, they are feeling good even though achieving nothing except by accident. I use language belonging to World. I achieve much.”

  “You’re speaking very frankly.”

  “We are two women, not? Meeting strangely? I give your wedding thing, I show you where it was. You give me your swearing you will not speak of me to anyone. Also, if one day you meet my people, you do not speak of me to them. I have been saying much to you! Too much. Our meeting here is secret thing.”

  “Will you teach me Moss’s language?”

  Gavi considered my request, head bowed, forehead furrowed. “You should learn it yourself for understanding best. Rise early, smell dawn, ten mornings. Ten mornings is one word, subtle variations. Common smell is all mornings. Variations are other words: rainy morning, cold morning, sunshiny morning. Smell where tree is dying, until it is dead. You will have several words. Fated to die. Started dying. Almost dead. Dead. Rotted. Follow words dancing in woods, be seeing what happens where they dance. Does this growth start and that stop? Is redmoss dwindling into nothing or growing into huge levee? You will see, and you will have message. From that, you can make meanings for words. This is what I did, as child. If you reach hard place, I will help.”

  “The words are dancing over and over again in the meadow near our camp. From the colors, I think it was the same ones in the same order every time.”

  “Ah,” said Gavi. “Telling you something important.”

  “Whatever it is, we are not hearing it. Can you at least tell us what that message is?”

  Gavi shook her head. “That message is where you are, and I do not have one idea. I would need to be smelling for myself, and I am not safe going alone so far.”

  “If we smell the message, back there, and then come here and tell you the smells…?”

  Gavi shook her head. “How can you tell me? Some are easy. Rotten meat. Smell of apples. Smell of smoke,
fifty different kinds…But others, how define?”

  “We need a machine,” said I. “Something to measure the smells, analyze them, reproduce them, in order. If we had that, could you tell us what it means?”

  She nodded. “If you could be doing it quietly, without telling bad people.”

  Clare asked plaintively, “Where did you get the seeds and tools for your gardens?”

  I looked up, confused. There Clare stood, fully clothed, having changed back into her own form and dressed herself without our noticing. Her face, however, was still changing. Gavi leapt to her feet, crying “Demons! Moss-demons!”

  “No,” said I, catching hold of her. “No, no. They…they have two forms, that’s all. One doglike form, one human form. Clare has changed back as we have been talking.”

  “All of them?” Gavi shivered.

  “No. Just three. Adam, Frank, and Clare. The others are true dogs, the puppies are true puppies. They are smarter than dogs used to be, and healthier, and they live longer, but otherwise they are dogs in every respect.”

  “Why?” Gavi cried. “This is evil thing!”

  “No,” said Clare. “This was to help dogs and learn about dogs, and we volunteered. I asked about the seeds.”

  Gavi answered, mechanically. “We had supplies, seeds, farm tools, small farm animals. We were moving to Jardinconnu, for living on new world, necessary food growing, necessary flower planting. Our people said on way they would make detour, seeking Splendor, for Hessing headman had old map given him by Tharstian. It was joke! No one was really believing it. It was kind of playing they did, my ancestors. So, our people were misbehaving, making little side trip, getting caught in space hole, and then this place and no way back. Ships had what we needed for planting, growing. Later, when Day Mountain went away, we shared supplies with them.”

  Clare nodded. “What animals do you have?”

  “Chickens, for eggs. Goats, for milk and leather. Some goats got away, one time, and redmoss ate them quickly. Goat moss demons came home, crying for letting in. We burned them, crushed bones. Now we are very careful with livestock. When I learned moss language, words say to me no goats, goats eat talkers, eat other necessary things! We have also cats. No dogs.”

  Clare said, “You could come with us on the floater, smell the message in the evening, stay with us, then we would return you.”

  Gavi thought about it. “I am trusting you. I am not trusting others of you. Things happen. Maybe others would find me there and would not let me come back. No. I am telling you. You have things that make fires in sky? We had them, long ago.”

  “Flares? Signals?”

  “Signal flares, yes. I am explaining something: On Forêt we were not speaking common speech each day. Learning it in schools but not speaking it. So, when our people are coming here, so many words we do not use anymore. We read aloud to each other from old books for not forgetting, but we do forget. What is plumbing? What is computer? What is hot pan…griddle? Now I am speaking to you in Standard, but our talk being much changed. I am remembering book words, how they go together. Probably I sound strange…”

  “Only a little,” said I. “You were asking about signal flares.”

  “Yes. Red, I am thinking. From where I live, I can see your sky. Today, just past, is day one, day of our meeting. You are counting, I am counting. On day seven, I am watching your sky when dark is coming. If you want meeting me, make three red flares in early dark. Be doing this several times in evening, if I do not see first time, I will see later time. If you do not, count again, seven days. Each seven, I will be looking at sky. If I see flares, I will be coming down in next day or day after. If you are alone or with these people or dogs, I will find you. If you bring other people, you will not find me.”

  “Dogs?”

  She rose to her feet. “Protecting you, yes. Dogs are…fine. Now you come to bath place and warmwall!”

  Gavi took me deeper into the cave, showing me the bathing place and the warmwall as she spread her own blankets against it. She pressed the album projector into my hands before rolling herself against the wall, eyes shut, already seeming asleep. I returned to the outer chamber, where Adam had joined Clare in human shape. His muzzle was also very slightly extended. Changing the jaw and reshaping the tongue always took time; the calmer the situation, the more time it took. Being very frightened or completely enraged made the change happen so fast they didn’t have time to undress first, as when Adam had changed on Earth that time, almost getting caught at it.

  “What do you think?” I murmured.

  “She smells perfectly honest,” said Clare. “Friendly. Not hiding anything or falsifying anything. Usually, we can smell that.”

  “I was thinking more about what she had to say. Moss-demons. Willogs. Both might be dangerous to dogs. Moreover, she identified a plant as the message grower, and it looks exactly like one I saw on the moon, only larger. There was a smell there, Adam, remember? Just as we left, like an assault!”

  Adam said slowly, “Moon, planet, both from same source…”

  I nodded. “During formation, meteoritic ejecta went from Moss to moon, from Jungle to moon, and vice versa. Possibly it still happens, now and then. Will we find willogs all three places? Moss-demons in all three places? Is that what happened to Witt? Is there redmoss on Jungle? And how did my little album get here? He had it in his hand when he left…”

  “Space anomaly,” said Clare. “We knew there was one. The Derac fell into it.”

  I stared at the device in my hands. “Keep in mind what she said about harvesters. ‘They come in much light.’ We saw a flash on the moon. The people on Jungle saw a flash when Witt and the others disappeared…So much information! How do I pass it on without mentioning her?”

  Adam yawned, moving his shortened jaw from side to side to settle it into place. “You can tell Gainor. He’ll keep his counsel, and he’ll know what to do, won’t he?”

  I nodded. Gainor had been at this longer than I had. Perhaps he would. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to use that nice hot-spring place to take a bath.”

  Adam waved me off. “We’ll come make up our beds shortly.”

  Gavi was kneeling beside the stone trough, her hand in the water, when I approached.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said. “I was going to bathe in it. I thought you were asleep.”

  “Oh, yes, you must bathe.” Gavi smiled. “I was falling in sleep, then I thought of putting some scent in it for you. Nice, not? Is excellent for relaxing.”

  “That’s very kind.”

  It was relaxing. The scent, whatever it was, for I could barely detect it, seemed to penetrate to my very bones. I did something I had not done in a while: took Matty’s album, the Seventh Symphony, from my pack and let it play softly as I soaked. I opened my eyes to see Gavi leaning against the wall, listening. I smiled, letting her know it was all right to share it with me as my very bones softened, and my thoughts softened, flowing together. I found myself following odd chains of associations that had no meaning for me. No matter. I felt wonderfully clean and totally limp. I dried myself with my shirt and put on a clean one before leaving the hot-spring area to lie down.

  As I was doing so, Gavi approached. “The words they sang, to that music. The words about being forsaken, will you tell them to me again?”

  I said yes, I’d tell them to her, and she went away. I slept soundly and long, only to come straight up off the blanket to the sound of a strangled howl. One of the lanterns was alight, on dim, and I saw Gavi rising and starting for the cave entrance. I leapt up and followed, hearing that strange, strangled howl, now accompanied by a wild outcry from the dogs.

  As I went through the outermost cavern, I picked up a lantern and turned it high, pushing past the hanging blanket into the barely lighted world beyond. I saw the struggle immediately, Behemoth, caught in something that was strangling him, the other dogs attacking the something, without success. I saw Behemoth’s legs leave the ground, he was hanging by his thro
at in a sort of thicket…

  And then Gavi went past me with the water jar from the cavern and flung the contents over the strange growth that was killing my lovely dog, and it shuddered all over and went limp. Behemoth fell in a heap, I yelled for Clare and Frank, both of them came running and we struggled to get Behemoth breathing again. At some point, I heard the thicket growl and shake itself, and when I finally looked up, it was gone.

  “What?” I demanded of Gavi.

  “Moss-demon,” she said. “Mostly made from willog! This is why we are sleeping inside! This is why we are not going sticking noses in things outside at night!”

  “What did you throw on it?”

  “Stuff to make it tangle itself, forget what it was doing,” she said, her manner indicating it would not do any good for me to ask for details.

  Behemoth’s neck was scratched, but he was otherwise unhurt. Scramble was licking his muzzle and whining softly to him. I contented myself with saying, “Gavi saved your life, Behemoth. Maybe someday we can return the favor.”

  He gave me a look that said, “I am aware of my obligations.” We all went back to bed. Gavi Norchis woke me early to tell me where I could see the most spectacular falls and the most interesting growths.

  “When we come here,” I said, “We have to spend at least one night sleeping out. How do we protect ourselves…?”

  She handed me a tiny pottery bottle, stopped with a cork. “This I am making for you this morning. Rub on before sleeping. Is taking only tiny bit. Moss-demons are not liking it, and enough is here for several trips. Now, please be telling me the words in the music you were playing.”

  She had certainly earned that and a good deal more. She had a quick memory. I needed to repeat it only twice.

  She left me, saying, “I am telling you, do not bother talkers! Moss is not liking people bothering talkers.”

  I took the words seriously enough that I searched out a talker, one with slightly unripe Mossen on it, and showed it to the dogs and trainers so they could sniff it from the end of one long stalk to the other.