The Tower and the Hive (31 page)

“Did many die?” Kincaid asked.

Zara nodded slowly. Her expression was grim. “Not the best way to reduce excess population.”

“Were any very important 'Dinis lost?” Laria asked.

“Yes, and some whose matches were also lost so they can't be replaced as Gil and Kat were. No big 'Dinis were involved in the Clarf fiasco. Their hibernations are strictly for the 'refreshment' aspect of the seclusion. The ‘creative' stage is quite individual, but the larger the 'Dini, the less it is likely to have enough left of the ‘creative' material required to produce a juvenile.”

“That's a lot more than we've ever known,” Laria said thoughtfully.

“It took us Humans long enough to learn to control
our
populations,” Zara said. “We have had many 'Dinis, every color, come forward and agree to be used as anatomical subjects ...”

“What?”
Kincaid was no less horrified than Laria, but she was able to voice her objection.

“Well, they don't leave a corpse, you know.... Oh, you didn't know? Since they evolved on such a hot planet, they have a water-regulating physiology, reacting to osmotic pressure. So they sort of turn to mush when the physiology shuts down at death, the cells rupture and essentially the body disintegrates. Unless they are immediately used—ooops ... Well, let's not get into the archaic tradition of ‘going on the line.' They are rendered unconscious but have to be used immediately or immersed in a solution of the right liquids until they are used. None of us like the idea of ... operating on a live entity ... and keep hoping we won't be forced to that expedient.” Her face had turned as pale as theirs. She went on more briskly. “They do have an entirely different attitude toward death. You both know that from the history of suicide raids on the Hiver spheres. They were convinced that they, as themselves, would be re-created. As Gil and Kat were.”

“But to dissect a
live
'Dini ...” Laria could not continue, shaking her head in repugnance.

“I've learned a lot more about Mrdinis since I started this assignment, Laria,” Zara said, in the most solemn and respectful tone Laria had ever heard from her younger sister. “And since we're seeing it more and more as a pheromone problem, we won't need to do biological dissections. Ooops, sorry. You're looking very green, Lar.”

“Exactly
what
is happening to our friends?” Kincaid said anxiously.

“We're refreshing them. They're in separate tubs, to get the full benefit of that osmotic therapy, and in the same room. At the rate they're absorbing the substance, they should be physically fit again in about three more weeks. You were smart to get them here as fast as you did. I've made arrangements with the head keeper to allow you to come and see them whenever you wish. They're not really conscious right now, but they'll know you're there.”

“Three weeks?” Laria was alarmed. There was no way she could be absent from Clarf that long.

“There's not a thing that prevents us from coming back as often as we're needed,” Kincaid said, a reassuring hand squeezing Laria's knee.

Clarf's Tower Prime rolled her eyes as she realized that he was right.

“You've had a shock, sis,” Zara said. Then she shook a finger at them. “You're not to wear yourselves out—not with the time distortion between Iota Aurigae and Clarf. You especially, Laria.” Her finger settled warningly. “Not”—she smiled, “that I'm not delighted.”

“You looked?” Laria was perversely annoyed at her sister's knowledge of her pregnancy.

Zara guffawed. “Honey, the change didn't require me to look any farther than the glow in your skin and a certain shine in the eye that many pregnant women develop.”

Laria turned to Kincaid. “Do I look
that
different?”

“If I say yes, you'll thump me,” Kincaid replied with mock fear, pretending to recoil from her wrath.

“Would not!”

“Then you've mellowed, sis,” was Zara's tart response. “You're built right for having babies, unlike the Rowan, but take it easy—as easy as possible,” she corrected herself immediately, “in Tower work. Give Morag more of the merges. She can handle anything. And it wouldn't hurt Kaltia to take a few either. They're well able to do it after their apprenticeship here, even if they are technically too young to be full Primes.” She grinned. “Just as if I had the say in the matter.”
Okay to join us, Mother, Dad.

Damia and Afra did, Damia carrying a tray of hot canapés.

“You shouldn't've let us sleep so long,” Laria began.

“After your sister the healer said you obviously both needed it?” Damia replied, raising an eyebrow in reproof. “We've checked with the girls and they're coping superbly.”

“Though they do feel,” Afra added, “that not every single relative of the many they have—bar Thian and Rojer, who probably are unaware of the circumstances at Clarf Tower—needs to check in on an hourly basis.”

“Lionasha would let us know,” Laria started, sharing what she also considered an affront to the capabilities of the pair, as well as a tacit criticism of herself.

Kincaid gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow. “Where are all the
other
'Dinis I know live here?”

Zara chuckled. “The adults are all taking turns nursing your lot, and the young are out with Ewain and Petra, hunting. Eat!” She pointed imperiously at the tray Damia now presented to them.

“I'd sort of looked forward to hunting,” Kincaid remarked in mild disappointment.

“You can hunt all day tomorrow if you want ...” Damia began.

“Only after we've seen our friends,” Laria said.

“You can come in with me after dinner,” Zara said. “They'll be lucid enough to know you're nearby.”

“Lucid?” Every ounce of Laria's anxiety returned.

“Because”—Afra sat himself down on the other side of his distressed eldest daughter—“they're swimming in a nutrient fluid and so surfeited with regenerative substances that they're not likely to make much sense.”

Laria wasn't sure she found that description any more reassuring.

I wouldn't lie to you, Lar,
Zara said, passing her cheese sticks. “Don't you like them anymore?”

Well,
that's nicer than reminding me I'm eating for two.

You
haven't even started
that.

“Enough,” Damia said.

“Why, Mom? Can't you read us?” Zara grinned, reverting to her gamine and younger self.

“There's a level at which you two can communicate that excludes us,” Afra admitted as Damia hesitated. He looked directly at Kincaid. “The sort of level that develops between two people who are often in merge and rapport. Morag and Kaltia, being so close in age, have that facility. So do Ewain and Petra. Thian could go in either direction, to you, Laria, or to Rojer. But clearly”—he waved the cheese stick he was eating from Zara to Laria—“the girls can activate the old sideslip at will.”

“Sideslip?” Kincaid asked. “Is it limited to siblings and couples?”

Damia shrugged. “I doubt it. It works when it works.”

Afra chuckled, deep down in his chest. “Jeff has often remarked that he can't say anything that your mother doesn't hear.”

“And you, Afra Lyon?” asked Damia, cocking her head at her mate of twenty-seven years.

Afra merely smiled. “That's for me to know and you to find out!”

“Why, you ornery yellow-eyed Capellan—”

“Kitchen timer's ringing, Mother,” Zara said, pointing.

“Oh Lord ...” Damia moved so quickly she might as well have 'ported.

“Do you, Dad?” Zara asked in a whisper.

Afra's response was another chuckle.

“Oh, you!” she exclaimed in disgust when he refused to answer.

The clatter of horses' hooves, yells from jubilant hunters, provided an additional distraction.

“I can't believe Ewain and Petra hunt for the family now,” Laria said, rising.

“They're pretty good at it too,” Afra said, unfolding his long frame. He peered out the window. “They'll need help.”

Which the young hunters did, their horses laden with avians and scurriers.

“Did you bring me in any fresh greens and tubers?” Zara demanded, her expression somewhat censorious as she watched the unpacking.

“Sure, sis.” Ewain tossed her a sack that had been tied to the front of his saddle. “Not much at this time of the year, but there's enough for your needs.”

In the absence of any of the family Mrdinis that enjoyed helping in the kitchen, the Humans all pitched in, Kincaid electing to dress down the carcasses outside the back door. Avians particularly were best eaten fresh and the scurriers lightly grilled. Vegetables were prepared, and with so many to help, dinner was ready in a very short space of time: a dinner to which Laria and Kincaid did full justice.

“You three go on now,” Damia said. “We'll clean up ...” She included Ewain and Petra.

“Aw, Ma, we hunted,” complained Petra. “And I've studies...”

“You may 'port to save time,” Damia said, “but don't you dare show off or break a single dish.”

Zara beckoned for Laria and Kincaid to exit quietly before Ewain could start his protests.

 

The main hibernatory on Iota Aurigae was in the hills above the city and had been built with considerable care by the first 'Dinis that came to the mining world. Damia and Afra had insisted on, and 'ported in, the favorite woods and other materials preferred by the Mrdinis. A special “growing” tank had also been constructed, though until very recently no Human had known what was grown in it. Only that the substance was essential for a good hibernation.

Zara did not park the airsled in front of the entrance, but swung around back, landing on a ledge that apparently had been built for discreet and private use. Two other small craft were parked. Zara neatly took the single remaining empty space. Emerging, Laria and Kincaid could see no visible entry.

Zara grinned. “They've left nothing to chance,” she said, and walked right up to the apparently seamless rock. She touched something and instantly a door opened outward. She ducked inside, for the lintel was low, gesturing urgently for Laria and Kincaid to enter quickly. The door shut and Laria felt her ears pop.

Zara turned on a wrist light. “I know the way, but it's narrow and I don't want you falling.”

Laria caught the unusual odor and had to cram a finger under her nose to keep from sneezing. Then she became conscious of the incredibly humid heat.

Her wrist light showed them the door and they followed close enough that they nearly stumbled in their effort to enter. The panel slid shut so fast it just missed Kincaid's heels. They were on the landing of a flight of stairs, lit from a brighter light below, and Zara led the way down to yet another door. This opened into a laboratory of considerable size, filled with smells that made Laria very nauseous—those pheromones Zara had been talking about? There were busy Humans and 'Dinis, diligently peering into microscopes or other instruments at their workstations. Zara's entry with her companions was noted only briefly by those they passed.

“Your 'Dinis are in the private infirmary.” Zara pointed to her right, to the side aisle in which closed doors were unevenly spaced. “Third one on the left.” Again a swift parting and then closing of the door. LR AND KNCD HERE NOW, she said, pointing to a viewing window that gave onto a dimly lit inner room.

Instantly a panel slid aside and her parents' two 'Dinis, Tri and Fok, emerged. As they embraced her, their heads at her shoulder level, Laria was immediately surprised at how much larger they'd become.

YOU ARE SO BIG NOW, she exclaimed, leaning only slightly down to hold them tightly against her. THANK YOU FOR HELPING TLP AND HGF.

AND NPL AND PLS, Kincaid added. spreading his fingers on their shoulders.

THEY DO BETTER NOW, Fok told Kincaid, turning to hold out its flipper and squeeze Dano's hand firmly. SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN TAKEN THERE IN FIRST PLACE. WHY WERE YOU NOT TOLD?

WE DON'T KNOW WHY, Laria said. THEY NEEDED TO GO AND DID NOT ASK TO BE TAKEN UNTIL WE REALIZED THEY HAD TO GO.

Tri looked up at Laria, its poll eye unblinking. CAN GUESS.

GUESS WHAT, TRI? Laria insisted.

YOU SEE THEM NOW, Tri said, and pulled her with it. YOU TOO, KNCD.

Then they were inside the dim room and could make out the four tanks, smell the astringent odor of the fluid in which their 'Dinis were floating. There were other odors mixed in with astringency, as well as traces of the strong smell that had assailed them as they entered the hibernatory.

Despite the immersion of her friends almost to the poll eyes, Laria had no trouble identifying Tip and Huf, and knelt between their tanks, reaching out to stroke the sides of their heads, below the poll eyes.

WE HAVE MISSED YOU AS MUCH AS WE WOULD MISS OUR HEARTS, Kincaid murmured, one hand on each 'Dini's neck.

BETTER NOW, Nil muttered in a voice just barely above a whisper.