Authors: T. Jackson King,A. C. Crispin
Why defy Father's Anger? But perhaps Sky Infidels did not know how futile this was. He did as directed, even though the half-melted casings leaked acid onto his hands. His scales repelled it, but the pain was strong.
Mahree pulled two long wires from the back of her alien box. She twisted them onto the thicker cables that had been connected to the ruined batteries.
Then she pushed past him, reaching for the yoke. "Hold the box! Keep the cables from separating!"
Krillen did that. A hissing sound made him look up. Father's Anger roared toward them, red and orange and angry. Its fury bubbled high, as if...
Wheee-rup!
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He felt the craft lift up on fan-blown air. "You did it!"
"Grab something!" cried Mahree.
Krillen wrapped his tail around the door handle, and prayed to Mother Sky that he, a poor Investigator tossed into the clutch of off-worlders who did not know how to show proper devotion to her, might yet survive. Survive to teach them the ways of the People. Survive to see Nalado once more. Survive to ...
"We're going to clear it!" yelled Mahree.
"We are?" Krillen blinked, looking up. The lava flowed with a crinkling, sticky sound. The heated air pushed forward by its rapid approach dried his eyes and buffeted his face. It felt like Mother's Eye had come down to Father Earth. To slow the pace of Father's Anger?
"Yes!" she yelled joyously as they sped beyond the northern edge of the flow.
Behind them, molten rock roared across the stone pavement of the Royal Road. Ahead of them shimmered the blue waters of Sand Lake. His heart thumped in his chest, his tail dropped limply to the floorboards, and Krillen, of the clan Moon Bright, knew that Mother Sky had other plans for his future.
"Thank the Ancestors!"
Mahree slowed the headlong rush of the skimmer, looking over her shoulder at the alien box he held in his acid- burned hands. "Oh, Krillen! You're injured."
He flared his ears. "Better than being roasted to death." He blinked at her.
"May I put down this device?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Just... just wedge the replacement battery into place.
Use my duffel bag. Don't let the wires come apart."
Krillen did as directed, then rejoined her on the front bench seat. The rush of hot afternoon air across his face felt... delicious. "It's not often one escapes Father's Anger. We seem to be blessed by the Ancestors."
Mahree frowned, then glanced at him. "Maybe. But those batteries shouldn't have melted down like that. The overheating sensors built into the batteries were disconnected. And someone must have put the wrong kind of
electrolyte into the batteries."
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Krillen didn't like what he was hearing. "You mean ... the battery failure was intentional? We were supposed to be stranded out here?"
Mahree nodded. "Or worse. The fumes could have poisoned us, or they could easily have ignited ..."
His ears drooped. Who among the people at Base Camp wanted them dead? "This could only have been done recently. By someone who knows about alien transports. Who? One of your new scientists?"
She wiped sweat from her forehead. He noticed that her hand was trembling.
"I doubt it. But that leaves only Gordon and Khuharkk' and Sumiko and--"
"Axum and her diggers," Krillen said harshly. "They are very familiar with your devices. They even ride aboard the jumpjet when going to the City of White Stone." Mahree looked at him, curious. "Why would a Na-Dina want to kill us? Or Bill, for that matter?" She frowned. "But none of them can pilot a jumpjet, can they? Hey!" She pounded her fist against the dashboard. "The Nordlund pilot who brought us from the spaceport--he left before the smuggler raid. So maybe--"
"He sabotaged the batteries?" Krillen said. "Perhaps. If Bill was dead before the jumpjet landed, then only someone with pilot knowledge could have been the murderer."
Her jaw muscles clenched. "I can't forget that, Krillen. Is that what you think?
That he was already dead when the ship landed?"
"I have no evidence to suggest that. I am hoping that your alien machines will give us some. But my instincts ... after twenty years at my job ... my instincts tell me that Bill was dead before the ship landed."
Mahree gripped the steering yoke tightly. "God, I don't like this. It means someone in camp tried to kill us. And it would have looked like an accident, if it had succeeded. We face a deadly foe."
Krillen nodded slowly. "Perhaps several foes. We must think well, and carefully. Yes?"
His colleague grimaced, showing many teeth. "Yes. But that's something I'm good at. Especially when I'm angry."
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* * *
All Mahree wanted to do was take a bath, wash her hair, and sleep on something that didn't tremble underfoot. As if on cue, the stone floor under her boots rumbled to a series of microquakes.
"You were lucky," Coreen said sympathetically. "You could have joined the list of Disappearances."
"Disappearances?" Mahree said, putting down her overnight bag. "What are they?"
Krillen looked embarrassed. "A rural fable," he muttered.
Matron Coreen lifted her tail. "Not to those who live outside your cities, Investigator. I myself saw an empty village on a trip beyond Salt Dream. It was unsettling." Mahree could see how people might disappear on a planet where lava flows and earthquakes struck without warning. "Krillen, what about the Royal Road? It's blocked now."
Krillen seemed to welcome the change of subject. "That it is." The Investigator glanced briefly at Coreen. "Matron, tens of kilometers of the Royal Road are buried under the new flow. Have you been expecting such an eruption?" He looked down at the stone floor.
"No." The Matron stared at Krillen. "The snores of Father Earth have been louder of late. And they do not match the decennial Pond cycle common for these parts." Mahree wondered at that. "Pond cycle? What's that?" The Matron eyed her politely. "For two millennia, Blue Pond has been famous for its earthquake forecasting, based
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on observations of ripple patterns in the village's Royal Pond." She shook a claw at the floor. "The ways of Father Earth are familiar to us. And the Temple of Earth Quaking often sends acolytes to study with us. My own daughter follows now in the family tradition." She looked up, again fixing her attention on Krillen.
The Investigator shuffled nervously. "Uh, your clan is blessed by your family's devotion, I am sure."
Strange. Mahree wondered why the Matron stared at Krillen, while the alien kept his gaze downcast. As if embarrassed. Or nervous about something.
But no, his ears perked skyward, showing an emotion she hadn't seen before. "Krillen, perhaps we should go to our rooms? I need to find some soap and then take a bath."
Both Na-Dina looked sharply at her, then cast their gazes downward.
Mahree got the clear impression that she'd just stuck her foot in her mouth.
After years of dealing with alien customs, it wouldn't be the first time she'd made some kind of gaffe without intending to.
After a short, loaded silence, Krillen asked, "Matron in Charge, is your... is your cleansing pond available for nonfamily use?"
"It is." The Matron eyed Mahree. "Daughter of Sky, my name is Coreen, of the clan Farms Well, of the Trade Father Snoring, and I am Mother of two eggs. My cleansing pond is located in the courtyard behind the kitchen. You may use it tonight."
Tension sang between the two aliens, and Mahree hadn't the slightest idea of what she'd said to set it off. Too tired to worry more, she touched her forehead in the greeting custom of the Na-Dina. "Mother Coreen, I am honored by your sharing." The female's fan-ears twitched. "Uh, I am Mahree, of the clan Human, of the Trade Interrelator, and Mother of one daughter,"
Mahree said softly. "My family gives you thanks."
"Your thanks are accepted." The tension eased. The Matron offered them each a ceramic token, inlaid with a cloisonne glass pattern. "Your room ownership tokens. No
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one will disturb you so long as these hang from the pivot- bar. Do you require a meal?"
"No," said Krillen. "We brought our own food. Thank you for asking."
Coreen shuffled back behind her counter, tail lifting. "As you wish. You are both welcome to join the break of our morning fast, at first light of Mother's Eye."
Mahree shouldered her duffel bag, wondered if her equipment would be safe in the skimmer, then recalled the Na-Dina penalty for theft--amputation of one or both hands. She shuddered, and followed after Krillen as he shuffled up the stone steps to the second floor, his tail slithering through a rut cut deep into the edge of each step.
"Uh, Krillen," she said after they had passed out of earshot of Coreen. "What did I say wrong back there?" Kril en continued climbing but slowed. "We Na-Dina can speak bluntly. I will oblige you. Bathing is often a sexual activity among us, and your juxtaposition of my name with your desire to bathe could be construed to mean that... you wished to share sex with me." Mahree opened her mouth, but found nothing to say. "Of course, I know better from observing your species' toiletry rituals at Base Camp. Matron Coreen does not."
Mahree felt her face grow warm. Good grief! That's a new one! "Oh, Krillen, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."
"No offense taken." The alien stepped out of the stairwell into the stone hallway of the upper floor, his supply bag in one talon-hand, the room token in the other. He pointed with his tail. "That is your room, on the left. Mine is here. Do you wish to be awakened for morning devotions?"
She was still trying to recover her aplomb. Morning devotions? Oh. yes. "Uh, yes, please. I would be honored to share in your devotions. Thank you for inviting me." Krillen pushed open the cat door of his room and laid down his supply bag inside. Looking over his shoulder, he stared at her. "You're quite welcome. I hope you enjoy your bath and your night's rest."
"Just one more thing, Krillen. I noticed Coreen staring
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at you intently, but you kept your gaze downcast. Does this mean she is ...
appreciative of you, for some reason?"
Krillen blinked rapidly, then sighed. "Serves me right, daring to be blunt.
Some kinds of gazing are, well, different ... Coreen's mate has joined the Ancestors, yet she is still lively, even at her age. She was inviting me to share a soak in her pond, then her bedchamber tonight. I declined."
Krillen turned to go into his room.
"Oh," Mahree murmured. God, it's been a long day ...
Minutes later, Mahree stood at the edge of the stone-lined pond in the rear courtyard. Alone under the stars of early evening, she shucked off her shorts, panties, and blouse, then climbed into the shallow waters. The water was sleepy-warm, heated by the light of Mother's Eye during the day. Easing down with her back resting against the rough warm stone rim of the pond, she stretched out her legs and decided to soak first.
It was luxury. Pure, sensuous luxury.
Her pores opened up. The soles of her feet softened. The salty sweat floated away. And when she sank under the water to soak her hair, coming up for air with a shout, she felt indeed as if she had experienced something sexual.
The stars above spoke to her. Rob was out there, somewhere amid those stars. Awake? Asleep? Asleep and dreaming of her?
Mahree refused to continue that line of thought; it would just make her even lonelier and more depressed. She swam a few short laps and got out.
She slipped on her clothes, then padded back to her room, ducking under the cat door. I'm so tired, I'm not even hungry. She was, however, thirsty, and had a long, cool, refreshing drink from her canteen.
Then, pulling a faded old sleep-shirt over her head, she walked over to the padded, circular bed platform. Lying down, she tossed and turned, experimenting with positions. Na-Dina beds were too small for humans, even for a woman of medium height. She wondered for a moment
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whether Gordon Mitchell had ever had to try sleeping on a Na-Dina bed. He was a big man....
After a few minutes, her body relaxed and her eyelids grew heavy ... so heavy.
And there was somebody with her, in the darkness. Mahree felt her arms tingle as he stroked them sensuously. His hands traced the contours of her shoulders, trailed along her neck, then moved downward, covering her breasts.
It had been such a long time since she'd made love ... Mahree, half realizing she was dreaming, reached up to draw his face down to hers, wanting his kisses, wanting him.
His features hovered before her, dreamlike, indistinct. "Rob?" she tried to say, but of course she was dreaming and could make no sound.
And then the shifting image coalesced, sharpening, becoming, for a moment, only too clear.
Gordon Mitchell.
Mahree gasped, and awoke. No, she thought. No, I won't. I can't. Shaken, she lay there, making herself relax, muscle by muscle. It was only a dream, she repeated to herself, reassuring herself. You can't control dreams.
They're not real. Nothing happened. I didn't DO anything. Relax... relax...
But it was a long, long time before she was able to sleep again....
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The next morning, as the golden gleam of Mother's Eye cleared the eastern horizon, Krillen watched Mahree of the clan Human offer water to Father Earth and salt to Mother Sky. Kneeling on the sandy ground of the rear courtyard like he and Coreen, she seemed unusually subdued. Perhaps the lava flow of yesterday still worried her.
Mahree looked to him. "Krillen, did I do that properly?"