A Beautiful Friendship-ARC (38 page)

“Okay,” she said, keeping her voice as confident as possible and speaking to herself as much as to the waiting treecats. “Okay. I see the problem Now I think we probably need to get a little advice on how to deal with it.”

The treecats looked up at her and she sensed their deep worry . . . and their confidence in her. She wondered if she was picking it up directly from the other treecats, or sensing it through her link to Lionheart. Or, for that matter, if she was simply reading their body language and the intensity of their huge green eyes.

She didn’t know about that, but she reached for her uni-link.

* * *

“—so then Dad said I should com you, Scott. What do I do now?”

“Don’t do
anything
for a minute, Steph,” Scott MacDallan said firmly. “You may have a point about possible booby traps, and I don’t want anything happening to
you
!”

“Well, I can’t just
sit
here! I’ve got to get him out of there, somehow. Besides, what if the . . .
person
”—she’d been about to use another, much ruder word, but she stopped herself in time—“who set this trap comes back to collect it before I get him out of it?”

“A good point,” he conceded. “But let me think for a minute first, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied more than a little grudgingly, and he shook his head. He’d come to know “sweet little” Stephanie Harrington too well to expect her to sit there passively for very long.

Why, oh
why
did both her parents have to choose today of all days to be out on business?
he asked himself.

Richard Harrington was even farther from his daughter at the moment than MacDallan was, and he was smack in the middle of a surgical procedure to save a genetically modified Morgan horse’s leg. And Marjorie Harrington and her Forestry Service guide were half-buried (more or less literally) in the root structure the picketwood network the BioNeering release had contaminated, trying to figure out how the rest of the picketwood had separated itself from the dying portion before the contaminant spread still further. She was at least as far from home as her husband was, which meant neither of them could get to Stephanie before—

“Look,” he said, “Frank and Ainsley should both be closer to you than your parents are. Can I go ahead and give them your GPS coordinates? I know how hard we’ve all been trying to keep Lionheart’s clan’s location a secret, but it sounds like
someone’s
figured it out, anyway. And we need an official presence on-scene as quick as we can get it there.”

“Wellllll . . . all right.” She knew he’d heard the unhappiness in her voice, but she’d already seen the suggestion coming. And little though she liked the idea, she had to admit it had to be done.

“Okay. I’ll get them on their way as soon as you and I are off the com,” he said. “ Now, what did your dad say when you asked him about why the treecat’s unconscious?”

“He says it’s probably some kind of knockout gas. I’ve been looking at the trap with my binoculars, and I see what could be a kind of swivel-mounted dispenser in the roof of the cage. At the moment, it’s pointed at the treecat. I guess it may be waiting to give him another squirt if he starts to wake up before somebody gets here to collect him.”

“Which doesn’t mean it won’t turn itself around to squirt
you—
or one of the other treecats—if you start fooling around with it!” he said sharply.

“I’m not a
complete
null wit, Scott,” she said testily. “I already figured that out. But Dad says most of the gases that would be most effective—and safe to use—against a native species with a treecat’s body mass wouldn’t be powerful enough, or effective enough against humans, to knock
me
out.”

“Which is all fine and good, assuming whoever set this trap is as smart as your father and equally concerned about not harming the critters he’s trying to trap,” he pointed out.

“I
know
that. But if you don’t want me to ‘start fooling around with it,’ what
do
you want me to do?”

“To be perfectly honest,” he said, “what I’d
like
to do is order you to climb down out of that tree and get back to a safe distance before whoever set the trap comes along and realizes you’re onto him. I don’t know what kind of person we’re dealing with here, Stephanie. I don’t know how far he’d go to . . . eliminate any witnesses. Unfortunately, I
do
know it won’t do me any good to tell you to back off, will it?”

“Not much,” she admitted, lips twitching in a brief half-smile, and he chuckled.

“Well, in that case, I think the best thing you could do is probably to back off at least a little ways and keep an eye on things. If somebody turns up to collect that trap, try to get a look at the air car. Maybe you can identify it later. In the meantime, find yourself a good spot to keep a lookout while I get Frank and Ainsley. I’ll be in the air, headed your direction myself by the time I get hold of them.”

27

Stephanie Harrington sat on the crown oak limb, her back braced against the trunk, with her knees drawn up under her chin and her arms wrapped around her shins.

Her expression was not a happy one.

She was willing to admit MacDallan might have a point, but that was one of her
friends
in that trap over there. It was almost certainly one of the treecats who had helped save her from the hexapuma. She owed him. More than that, he was part of her
family
, and she
hated
just sitting here doing nothing!

Lionheart shifted slightly on the branch beside her, and she made herself draw a deep breath, then unwrapped her arms from her shins. She stretched her legs out along the limb, making a lap, and held out her arms to him. He swarmed into them, cuddling against her, and she tucked her chin over the top of his head and hugged him.

* * *

Climbs Quickly pressed his nose more tightly against his two-leg’s collarbone, buzzing with a bone-deep, reassuring purr. He felt her anxiety, her frustration, but he and Broken Tooth and Short Tail had listened to her conversations with her parents and with Darkness Foe. They hadn’t understood any of the mouth-sounds, but they’d understood enough—at least in general—from Death Fang’s Bane’s mind-glow to know Darkness Foe, Swift Striker, and Darkness Foe’s friends who had helped teach Death Fang’s Bane the use of her weapon, were all on their way to Twig Weaver’s rescue. They knew that, and it filled them with hope, but they also understood Death Fang’s Bane’s worry and burning desire to
do
something.

<
Well, at least we know what has been happening to the missing People
,> Broken Tooth said, sitting beside Death Fang’s Bane and gazing much further down the tree where half a dozen other females were gathered around Water Dancer to comfort her.

<
And with Darkness Foe and the uniformed two-legs involved, I think there is an excellent chance all of them will be rescued,
> Climbs Quickly agreed.

<
If they can determine which of the evil two-legs did this thing,
> Short Tail objected. <
What if they cannot? And what if the evildoer responsible for this is like the one who destroyed Bright Heart Clan’s range? What if he is prepared to slay his captives and conceal their bodies before the other two-legs can catch him? The two-legs are mind-blind, Climbs Quickly. They cannot simply taste his mind-glow and know he is the guilty one. I think that may be the reason there
are
evildoers among them—because unlike us, they cannot
know
what another of their kind is truly thinking or feeling. That is why they seem to insist so strongly on
proof
of evil doing. So what becomes of our missing brothers if the evildoer realizes what is happening and . . . disposes of them?
>

He kept his mind-voice low, but it was perhaps fortunate Water Dancer was too far distant to overhear him anyway, Climbs Quickly reflected sourly. Not that Short Tail’s point wasn’t valid.

<
You may be right
,> he acknowledged. <
Yet even if you are, we and the good two-legs are in a far better position to discover who has done this than we ever were before
.>

<
Yes, we are
,> Broken Tooth said. <
Although, if we succeed in rescuing Twig Weaver, I think perhaps Water Dancer will be hearing from him about this day.
>

<
Not if Twig Weaver has any wisdom at all!
> Climbs Quickly retorted. <
Take it from a memory singer’s brother—and one who has bonded with a female
two-leg
, to boot—no good
ever
came of trying to tell a female what she must or must not do! And if he should be foolish enough to try that in Water Dancer’s case, she will only send him the mind picture of him lying asleep in the two-leg trap
.>

Both of his companions’ mind-glows radiated wry amusement at that. Water Dancer hadn’t wanted her mate to go off unaccompanied when so many of the People had been disappearing. But he’d been confident in his ability to look after himself, and with the clan so short of scouts and hunters, he’d refused to ask another to go with him. And when she’d threatened to follow him herself, he’d delivered a tremendous scold, pointing out that their kittens were scarcely weaned. Surely she had better things to do than follow him about! And if there actually was any danger, they had no business risking
both
of their kittens’ parents!

In Climbs Quickly’s opinion, any male—especially a bonded male—should have known how useless it had been to issue that sort of decree. In fact, Twig Weaver should have realized it would only make Water Dancer even more determined to keep him safe. Which was precisely why she had asked one of the older females to keep watch over her offspring while she went scuttling through the branches behind Twig Weaver.

Climbs Quickly didn’t know how she’d managed to keep him in sight without his detecting her familiar mind-glow, but it was obviously as well for Twig Weaver she’d done so. At least the clan knew where he was, and now Death Fang’s Bane and Darkness Foe knew what had been happening. Now if only they could—

His head came up suddenly, ears pricking forward, and a faint snarl sounded deep in his throat as he recognized the sound of one of the two-leg flying things.

* * *

Stephanie saw Lionheart’s head rise abruptly and sensed a sudden spike in his emotions. She didn’t know what he’d heard, but she strained her own ears, trying to catch whatever sound had alerted him.

For several seconds, she heard nothing but wind sighing through foliage and the distant call of the Sphinxian equivalent of birds. But then she heard another sound, and her face went pale.

That can’t be Scott or either of the rangers—not this quick!
she thought.
But if it isn’t any of
them
. . .

Her eyes darted back to the trapped treecat, and her stomach twisted into a sudden knot. Of course. Whoever had set that trap would have fitted it with some sort of signal to tell her when it had something in it. She wouldn’t want to leave it sitting too long lest one of the other treecats come along, discover the victim, and realize what had been happening to the members of his clan. Which meant she was going to activate that counter-grav unit any second now and the only physical evidence of what she’d been doing would disappear . . . along with yet another member of Stephanie’s treecat family.

Her jaw clenched. No. No, that
wasn’t
going to happen! Not to another of
her
treecats, it wasn’t! But how—?

“Give me your net!” she told Lionheart, pointing at the net wrapped about his middle. “All of you—give me your nets, now!”

Lionheart looked at her, his expression perplexed. For just a moment she thought he didn’t understand. Then she realized he
did . . .
and that he didn’t want her risking herself.

“Give me the
nets
!” she repeated harshly, holding out both hands and making grabbing motions. He looked at her for a second longer, and then his true-hand and hand-feet moved, unwrapping the cargo net he continued to carry with him everywhere he went.

He held it up to her, and by the time he had it unwrapped from around his torso, the other two treecats with him had unwrapped their nets, as well. Stephanie snatched them up, twitched her own counter-grav up to reduce her weight to no more than a kilo or two, and went racing along the branch.

* * *

Climbs Quickly watched Death Fang’s Bane run along the branch towards Twig Weaver’s prison and pride warred with fear in his heart.

He was terrified his two-leg was about to be rendered unconscious exactly as Twig Weaver had been. If that happened, there was nothing any of the People could do about it, for they would simply be put to sleep themselves if they came near the trap. And despite the magic device that so reduced Death Fang’s Bane’s weight, she would still fall from the tree, a triple hand and more of People-lengths above the forest floor. When she hit, especially if she was unconscious, what had happened to her when her flying thing crashed would probably seem minor compared to the hurts she would suffer.

Yet with the terror, and brighter by far, was his fierce, fresh pride in his youngling. She knew as well as he did what might happen—no, she knew
better
than he did. Yet it never even occurred to her to hesitate, and in the blazing corona of her mind-glow he tasted her unyielding determination to protect Twig Weaver and every member of Bright Water Clan, whatever the cost.

Yes, there
are
evildoers among the two-legs
, he thought.
But there is also
my
two-leg, and her friends, and there is no evil in
them!

* * *

Stephanie flung herself to her knees beside the caged treecat.

The trap’s motion sensor detected her and swivelled the gas dispenser in her direction. She heard it hiss, but whatever gas it had been loaded with had no effect on her. Not immediately, at least, and she looped the first treecat cargo net through the camouflaged bars.

It was long enough to go around two of the bars, then loop around a side branch of the main crown oak limb, and she knotted it tight. Then she flipped the second net through a bar on the other side of the cage, wrapped it around another side branch and tied it just as tightly. The third net went around a bar at one end, and it was just long enough to reach around the main limb and still leave her ten or twelve centimeters of slack. She knotted that one, as well, and then went running back along the limb toward Lionheart and his friends.