Authors: Anne Mccaffrey
Grandsire nodded.
Captain Coco shrugged magnanimously. “When you put it that way, I accept,” he said. “As soon as we are able to ‘steal’ this vessel from House Harakamian, my people will abandon the
Mana,
leaving only the girl and her kiddie crew aboard. Until then, however, she’s ours.”
“Jaya?” Grandsire asked.
“I guess so,” she said, shooting Coco a grudging glance.
“Coco, an oath on your ancestors,” Captain Bates said.
“Aisha, you haven’t turned out well, have I mentioned that? You have become such an interfering old maid, butting in to betray your own—”
“The oath, Coco,” she insisted.
He swore, and Jaya nodded, then stuck her tongue out at him.
Coco snorted and revenged himself on Captain Bates for the insult, saying, “I need to find you a husband.” He sighed deeply and changed tacks, turning to Uncle Joh and saying in a distinctly oily tone, “Speaking of House Harakamian, you mentioned a cargo belonging to them that could be found on this world?”
Grandsire narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at Uncle Joh, who shrugged. “That’s what the old man told me, but mostly he said he was worried about Rafik here.”
Grandsire looked resigned. “I doubt the shipment made it, or survived if it did. We could take one of the shuttles to check on it.”
“That would be safest,” Uncle Joh agreed. “Less yummy ship stuff to attract a hungry inogre.”
“In—what?” both of the other men asked.
Uncle Joh began relating the story of Puss in Boots, enhanced in his own inimitable style, as the three men returned to the
Condor
to board a shuttle.
Mother, Father, and the other Linyaari, including Khaari, had spent the time during the argument healing both clansmen and Fridans injured during the transfer. They also delivered a premature human child born to a young Fridan woman, Melissandra Ortega. Acorna Neeva Melireenya Khaari Ortega was born with birth defects that Mother and Neeva, with her recently acquired knowledge of human physiology, were able to correct.
At Mother’s suggestion, Khorii preceded the others to the abandoned log mansion, looking for the blue plague dots. She didn’t expect to find any, and she didn’t. Once she completed her inspection, she and the other Linyaari helped the Fridans settle in. The clansmen appropriated the lounge and kitchen and camped out there and in the gardens.
Ariin knew she was supposed to be soothing and comforting people, taking care of them, being helpful, but the truth was she didn’t actually know how. Nobody had cared for her in any special way for as long as she could remember except for the unicorns, and they used thought-talk and equine body language. It seemed to be necessary to use words with humans, and pat them or put your arms around them or touch them with your horn even if there didn’t seem to actually be anything wrong with them. It was very awkward, and she resented it that just because she was a Linyaari, she was supposed to know how to do this stuff automatically.
A horde of ragtag children from the
Black Mariah
were fighting among themselves for the opportunity to slide down a large conference table with many chairs (soon overturned) and several large screens, like the com screens Uncle Hafiz had, except his were on a ball. An office then. One of the smaller kids who kept getting kicked off the table found the vid controls and clicked on a screen. Ariin paused to see what was on it, in case it was more interesting than wandering around looking solicitous toward a bunch of strange humans with whom she felt no connection.
Well-dressed men and women flickered across the screens in a random fashion, but one screen was devoted to a casually dressed male against a background that looked identical to the log-walled room in whose doorway she stood.
The kid flipped the controls so that sometimes the people spoke comically, in reverse, and sometimes different people appeared on the screens. All they did was talk in very serious tones about topics with which she was unfamiliar. Then, as she was turning to leave, she heard someone mention the
Estrella Blanca.
The boy clicked past it, and she entered the room, sending a strong mental push to him to stop. It was so strong that not only did he stop clicking but the kids sliding on the table, fighting under the table and fending off each other with chairs also stopped, staring at her as if she’d hit them.
“Go—” She started to say “go back,” then was riveted by the face on one of the screens. “Akasa?”
“What?” the boy with the clicker said.
Ariin had no idea how or why Akasa was on a vid screen in this particular conference room on this particular planet, but she knew it was important. She said not a word to the boy. She wasn’t aware of thought-talking to him or pushing him any further, but the room stayed absolutely silent, and the boy wordlessly handed over the control device. She found the symbol for reverse and the symbol to increase the audio output, and returned the screen to the place where Akasa’s face first appeared.
Another person, a human male clad in white garments that were not a shipsuit but looked to be of high quality and for formal usage, appeared beside Akasa. He spoke in Spandard, the dialect of Standard spoken on worlds that were heavily influenced by a certain cultural and linguistic group from Terra, the original breeding grounds of all the humans populating the habitable landmasses in this sector of the universe. He introduced her as “La Doña Akasa.”
Ariin snorted at the title, though she didn’t exactly know what it meant.
Pointing to the remote control, the boy said, “Press 1 for Standard.”
She did, and when Akasa spoke, it was in Standard, though that hadn’t been the language she’d spoken when Ariin lived in the cell off the laboratory. “I am from a race of superior beings who live on a world not far from yours,” she said. “I bring to you, the business leaders of the Solojo system, an unparalleled opportunity to invest in a magnificent venture. It will vastly improve the lives of your people and enrich you greatly.”
“We are already rich, Doña Akasa,” one of the other screen-framed faces told her. “And several of us, including your host, are pressed for time, as we have a ship to catch within a few hours.”
She smiled, confidently, beautifully. “What I have to share with you is so wonderful it will make you forget all about some silly trip. You’ll be dying to stay at home and enjoy all of the variety you could hope for. You see—”
“Your pardon, Madame, but this is an extremely important trip to us all. Its launch initiates the maiden voyage of the
Estrella Blanca,
flagship of our proposed new luxury cruiser fleet.”
Akasa said, “Even though this ship of yours can travel from one place to another, she will always look the same. These wonderful homes I am prepared to show you constantly change at the whim of the owner. From castle to cottage to country cabin, the structure, size, color, and apparent materials all alter to suit…” She hauled out some vids and began to run through them, but the committee wasn’t paying close attention, no doubt distracted by the journey they were about to take.
Good for them,
Ariin thought.
Those homes aren’t some new invention—those are vids of Kubiilikaan back on Vhiliinyar. She can’t sell them those!
Her host said, “Doña Akasa, perhaps you can provide a live demonstration of this amazing technology—a sample? That way my colleagues could grasp the full importance of your product.”
“A sample will be ready soon, but these prototypes clearly show—” She recomposed her face and gave them a dazzling smile. “This trip you are about to undertake. What is its ultimate destination? Perhaps it could make a stop where my prototypes are located so that you could see how marvelous they truly are?”
Her host looked pained. And a bit pale, even against the whiteness of his suit. It was not truly a change in pigmentation, Ariin realized, but a blanching around the eyes, a tightening of the mouth.
“You don’t seem to understand,” one of the women said indignantly. “This voyage has been planned for years, and the passenger manifest filled with the cream of Solojo society even before the ship was completed. It is a great—”
Whatever she was about to say was overridden by another man, this one with dark, slicked-back hair and a thin mustache. His eyes looked out as if at Akasa’s image. His expression was speculative, and not just regarding Akasa’s business deal. It was a look Ariin had seen on Odus’s face at times, except that his was somewhat subtler. “I might have room in my party. One of my traveling companions has become indisposed. I would like to see more, Doña Akasa.”
“That is wonderful. I have so much more to show you,” she said, with a purr worthy of Grimalkin.
T
he coordinates Odus had provided led Grimalkin to a system just beyond what had been, before the plague, Federation-patrolled space, on the far side of the Solojo system. This reinforced Grimalkin’s suspicions that Odus had started the intergalactic infestation as it had first manifested among Solojo’s worlds.
Picking a time for his departure had been tricky for Grimalkin. He had been quite busy right up until he was stripped of his crono and shapeshifting capabilities. He wanted a recent-model ship that could travel vast distances through space and required only a single operator. Once Grimalkin deposited Aari back in the cave on Khleevi-ridden Vhiliinyar, he timed it back to the mass exodus from the planet and, disguised as a Linyaari, traveled with Aari’s people to narhii-Vhiliinyar. He graciously waited until the transfer of the populace was completed, then stole one of the smaller ships.
Thereafter, it was a race against time. He would find it very awkward if the trip to Odus’s new planet took so long it ran into the time after Khorii’s birth. He had no wish to be stranded in space as a small kitten.
When he saw the large red, yellow, and blue planet his kind had selected for their new home, and saw their first settlement, he understood why Odus and Akasa had been driven to try to replenish the supply of mutable-dwelling creatures. The new world was, to put it charitably, a fixer-upper.
Grimalkin landed without unintentionally sprouting a tail or pointy ears, though it was a close thing. His former agenda regarding Acorna, Aari, and their children would be catching up with him momentarily.
There was no spaceport, merely a flat place between the group of rather sad-looking buildings and a pretty blue stream. However, technicians still bustled about inspecting this and fueling that. Grimalkin found their presence reassuring.
One female feline-fancying tech saw him and rushed to greet him. “Lord Grimalkin! You’ve returned to us. We feared you were lost forever.”
Grimalkin embraced the woman tenderly. They had had an erotic encounter at one point, and while it was probably more of an exotic erotic encounter for her than for him, he did admire the taste and discernment of those who admired him. Getting his ears scratched was nice, too.
“I’m not that easy to lose, Sona. I urgently need to speak with Odus and Akasa. Do you know where I can find them?”
“Lord Odus hasn’t left the laboratory in many days. Lady Akasa is resting in her dwelling.”
“What’s Odus working on?” Grimalkin asked casually.
“Look around you, lord. Not to be impertinent, but I’m sure you have observed already how much less grand than Kubiilikaan this city is.”
“I have noticed that these dwellings never change size, color, or shape. Why is that?”
“They’re just ordinary houses, milord. The toffs thought if they left the mutable dwellings behind, they could always get bigger, grander ones, but it didn’t work out that way. Lord Odus has been trying to clone new ones from some windowsills and roofing bits we brought with us, but the shock of separation didn’t set well with the creatures. They died on the journey, or at least haven’t moved or changed into anything since then. He’s still working with the remains, but judging from the way the laboratory quakes with the force of his rages, he doesn’t seem to be having much luck.”
Odus, Odus, Odus, you never did learn, did you? Grimalkin thought. “Perhaps I can be of assistance,” he said. “Which one of these—hovels—is the laboratory?”
“I’ll show you, milord.”
She led him to two of the low stone huts and threaded her way between them. The once-pristine uniform she wore was mended and patched, but clean. There also seemed to be somewhat more of her and less of the uniform than there had been formerly.
Behind the two huts was a shed that looked to be part of the hull of a large space vessel, its top roofed with more salvaged material.
He found it hard to believe that his race had fallen so low, and what was worse, seemed to be reacting to the situation so passively.
He nodded to Sona, who bowed and left. Opening the door/hatch, he boldly stepped inside.
He stood there for some time before Odus’s eyes focused enough to notice him. “Grimalkin?”
“None other. It took me a while, but I found you.”
“So it seems,” Odus said, and turned back to look at his work.
“The mighty have certainly fallen since moving from Kubiilikaan,” Grimalkin said, goading.
“Nonsense, old cat. Temporary campaign headquarters until we can get new dwellings trained.”
“It seems to me you could use better building materials, a good architect, and some workers to make plans into homes.”
“Where would the fun be in that? The mutable dwellings are perfect. I’m afraid I’ve been wasting my time trying to be frugal and reuse these old bits and pieces, but there were some annoying insectoid aggressive aliens lurking about, and it hasn’t been safe to retrieve new specimens. I understand that threat has been dealt with now, so Akasa and I are about to go on a little jaunt to collect new specimens.”
“Odus,” Grimalkin said, “that is not a good idea.”
“Whyever not? Because it wasn’t yours? You’re always zipping about the multiverse in a spacecraft. What do you know of the finer points of gracious living?”
“I’ve seen the Khleevi and what they can do, and I’ve also seen the future. When you go to collect your specimens, you’ll begin an intergalactic plague that will decimate mankind.”