Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (42 page)

“He
is sleeping and must be allowed to do so,”
Balthazar
said to Jeff
. “He has had a difficult trial, but mastered himself so that we
might succeed. ‘Carl’ is a brave human and worthy packmate. When he awakens,
assure him that our work was not damaging.”

When
Jeff went in search of a blanket to cover Carl with, Balthazar directed an
amused thought at Cynic.

“
You
have a mind we can appreciate, horse-brother. Do you still believe we would eat
you?”

Cynic
looked directly at Balthazar.
“I no longer doubt your intent,
wolf-who-may-be-brother, but will you speak for all of your kin?”

After
a period of trading slams with Cynic, Balthazar turned his attention back to
Jeff. His humorous bent of mind gave way to one that was deadly serious,
 

“Come
into our mind, brother, and learn what you must.”

A
combination of Alarai minds working with and through the wolf burst into his
brain. Forces beyond previous conception filled it to overflowing until Jeff
thought his skull would split. At several points the pain was so bad he was
afraid it might kill him.

“We
are an old people even by our accounting, Jeffrey Friedrick, and have resided
on this planet for many ages. Our origins are lost in time, although some
relate that we came from the stars in great ships. The machines that still
serve us in our travels lend support to this possibility. How it is that many
of us also came to live on Earth and labor for its welfare is not documented,
and also escapes myth.

“You
are descended from these Alarai through your grandmother’s line. While
intermarriage has diluted such descent, in you our blood runs nearly true. It
was Gaereth, the Alarai you met as a child, that uncovered your lineage.”

The
common voice took on a wry cast.
“Always has Gaereth enjoyed and employed
his particular humor, if also always to commendable ends. It is thus not
remarkable that we find similar traits in you and in those you associate with,
for Gaereth is your grandfather seven times removed.”

Gaereth
his grandfather? Jeff’s mind went blank with shock. Seven times removed would
make him over two hundred years old! That’s got to be a fairy tale. Such things
just don’t happen in real life. Then he thought, You mean, like getting
transported to another planet?

The
Alarai let it sink in for a few moments before continuing.
“On the day you
met in the forest, Gaereth buried in your mind that which led you to Aketti. He
understood even then that, given your heritage, you were unlikely to find a
place among earth’s humans. For the abrupt and destructive manner in which you
were ripped from Earth, we apologize, but of needs we were forced to employ the
vast energies of the earthquake. While we had no intention of transporting
Carl, and are shamed that he was taken, his presence speaks of more than
chance.”

A
large flag waved for attention in the back of Jeff’s mind.
“If Alarai remain
on Earth, why was it necessary to bring me here? And if it was necessary for
some reason, why did you not employ your machines?”
A final question that
had been jostling for position found expression
. “Why was I not given
warning or choice?”

The
combined Alarai mind pulled back, and Jeff got the sense that an ad hoc
conference had been called. Mentally crossing his arms, he nodded to himself
and thought, Well now, boys and girls—having a little trouble with that one?

“Forgive
our silence. It must seem that we dissemble to avoid revealing motive, but this
is not our intent. Rather, there is so much we would communicate and this
meeting made so precarious by distance. We find it difficult to select words
that will convey fact without implying deception. However and briefly, for we
would not do injury to our wolf-brother’s mind by prolonged conversation, you
were not transported by machine because we were not certain that your mind
could be attuned to its function. While you are of the Alarai, your blood is
also influenced by many generations that are not. Thus we were forced to
utilize the earthquake.

“But
our wolf-brother’s peril grows. Jeffrey, we sense your unease and distrust. Do
you doubt that your life on Earth was desperately unhappy? Or that it would
have been otherwise in the absence of your meeting with Gaereth?”

A
moment’s reflection and Jeff knew the answer to those questions: not a chance.

“Just
so. We are, you belong to, an ancient people whose lives have been dedicated to
serving others for untold centuries. Now we are few, but duty remains and
catastrophe of untold proportion threatens Earth.”

Earth?
What are they talking about? Jeff felt like his brain had turned inside out.
“Then
why in God’s name did you bring me here?”

Before
any reply was possible, the link nearly crumbled and Balthazar collapsed onto
his belly.

“Quickly
now! We are few, crisis looms first on Aketti, and you must come into full maturity
before contemplating a return to Earth. Always we have been close to the
Alemanni, for so we named the yellow-hairs after an ancient people of Earth.
You and they discovered each other, now your fates intertwine. Lead them and
find your destiny, Jeffrey.

“Finally,
given our numbers, can you not understand that we must search out every man and
woman of good will whether of the Alarai or not? Can you not see what must be
done? You are both Alarai and not!

“In
the spring, Gaereth returns to us and will seek you out. Then you will learn
much more. Until we speak again, Jeffrey Friedrick, may the gods that look over
us all protect and guide you.”

The
connection dissolved and Jeff tumbled into a pile near Carl. Exhausted by his
efforts, Balthazar sprawled onto his side. The remaining wolves curled up to
keep watch.

Carl
got as far as his knees. Bending over with a gasp of agony, he threw up. Wiping
his mouth, he crawled to the woodpile, tossed some sticks onto remaining coals,
and set water to heating.

“Oh
shit it hurts. I’ve got to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

Blearily
looking around the campsite, Carl noticed Jeff lying curled up and starting to
twitch. The wolves were gone. Carl got to his feet in slow stages, nearly fell
down, and had to lean over with hands on knees until his head stopped spinning.

“Coffee,”
he mumbled, “got to have coffee.”

He
made it to the saddlebags in short stages, and nudged Jeff with a boot on his
way back to the fire with a bag of grounds. Carl stared at the pot, willing it
to boil, but had to settle for sniffing the bag.

“If
you are going to feed yourself, why not me?”

“Yeah,
yeah, give me a minute, will you?” Carl snarled. He had put the lid back on
from checking the water for the umpteenth time when it hit him. Whirling too
fast, he grabbed his head with a groan and stared at Cynic. “What did you say?”

The
horse just stared at him as if he were a hopeless cretin.

“Okay,
okay, let’s try this again.”

Focusing
his mind, Carl directed what he hoped was a thought in Cynic’s direction.
“What
was that you said, big mouth?”

“I
think the wolf should have thought longer before he opened your mind,”
Cynic huffed, knowing an insult when he heard one.

His
pain momentarily forgotten, Carl let out a jubilant shout. “By, damn! What do you
know about that?” Carl grabbed his head again and started dry heaving.

Some
minutes later he added coffee to boiling water and in a short while eased the
pot from the fire. Carefully decanting a dark brew into metal cups, Carl added
a dollop of fruit syrup to both. With the satisfaction of one who does not want
to suffer alone, he noted Jeff crawling toward him with his eyes fastened on
the cups, groaning under his breath as he came.

Civilized
conversation was out of the question. They nursed their coffee and headaches in
silence for some time before Carl spoke up.

“Some
night, eh bucko?”

“Dammit,
Carl, you don’t have to shout!”

A
few minutes later, grimacing with pain, Jeff grunted belligerently, “Yeah, a
hell of a night. I’m glad someone’s feeling enthusiastic about it.”

Having
completed his mental ordeal well before Jeff’s, Carl’s headache was rapidly
diminishing. He was able to smile equably as he poured another cup of coffee
for them both.

“Now
now, let’s not be that way.”

By
late morning Jeff’s headache was gone and he felt capable of polite
conversation. “I’ve been through something like this before, but compared to
last night that first experience was nothing.” Jeff related the gist of what he
had learned the previous night. “…So, it sounds like I was elected to act as
proxy for the Alarai. Sort of a half-breed fill-in.”

“I
think you may have missed the real point,” Carl replied with a vigorous shake
of his head. “The Alarai are now so few that they face extinction. At the same
time, everything is going to hell on two planets. What was their last comment,
again?”

“Something
to the effect that I belonged to two peoples.”

“Exactly.
Pardon my saying it, but they also suggested you use your head and figure it
out. It isn’t just one world, Jeff, it’s two. I think you were brought here as
much for training as anything, and thank heavens I happened to be in the right
place at the right time.”

“They
did use the term crisis when talking about Aketti,” Jeff reflected, “and
catastrophe when referring to Earth. There’s a big difference between those
terms.”

“A
very big difference. Maybe it’s going to take some folks who are really
concerned but have no kinship with the Alarai?”

“Like
yourself. Damn. I am so slow at times it makes me want to cringe.” There was no
humor in his laugh. “They really don’t expect much of us, do they? Just get our
shit together, whip the Salchek, then maybe recruit some bravos and see what
can be done for Earth. You know—a little weekend outing, kick some butt and
skip back here. No big deal.”

“Yeah,
it does sort of take your breath away when you think about it,” Carl replied
with an appreciative chuckle. “What are we going to do? Shake a finger under
the noses of our esteemed leaders while giving them a tongue lashing?” Carl
narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Here’s something else to think about—I’m really
beginning to wonder if my being transported was an accident. From what you’ve
related, it sounds like the Alarai aren’t sure themselves.”

“I
think it’s more a matter of suspecting it wasn’t an accident. There is so much
that we don’t know. If they didn’t bring you here, who did? There we were on
Earth without a clue, now we’ve been handed two worlds to worry about and are
still in the dark. It’s all so confusing I’m tempted to take what Gurthwin said
about his gods at face value and invoke divine intervention.”

Carl
did a little hop and let out a whoop. “Yeah, but what a task. What a time! And
divine intervention? Considering everything that’s happened, why not? Wouldn’t
that be something? Nothing to live for back on Earth, now all of this. Damn,
it’s good to be alive!”

Not
wanting to lose any more time in their race with the onset of fall, they
hurried to the task of packing up. By evening they had emerged back onto the
prairie and were jogging along paralleling the forest border as planned. Carl
was delighted with his new ability and used passing weeks to sharpen its
control.

While
discussing their plans, he switched back and forth between telepathy and normal
speech so often and randomly that he nearly drove Jeff to distraction. Cynic
wasn’t spared, either, and soon threatened rebellion from the frequent teasing
he suffered. When he judged the time was right, Jeff angled away to the west.
Crossing farmland, they cut the south road from Rugen.

It
was nearly dark when the top of Rugen’s wall appeared over the horizon. They
picked up the pace, but the gate was locked tight when they arrived.

“Hoy
the guard,” Jeff shouted through cupped hands.

A
voice hailed back, “Who goes there?”

“I
can’t believe he said that.” Carl laughed with delight. “Who goes there? This
is great!”

“Yeah,
I suppose so. It’s after dark and he has to challenge us, but some of the
guards I’ve encountered are bloody idiots. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t take a
shot at us.” Jeff shook his head in resignation, and bellowed, “Jeffrey
Friedrick. I am expected and return from the South with important news. Open
the gate.”

“Begone,
ere I call out the guard. The city is closed to…uh, to vagabonds.”

“Whoa,
this guy really is an idiot,” Carl murmured.

“Open
the fucking gate,” Jeff shouted at the top of his lungs, “or I’m going to have
your ass!”

“I
think that might have gone right over his head, Jeff.”

Someone
winded a bugle, and they heard what had to be a heated argument followed by a
crash that reminded Carl of a cooking pot hitting stone.