Early Byrd (11 page)

Li smiled. "Because an honorable warrior is
always armed in times of danger.” He nodded at my shotgun. "Robert,
you did every bit as much as your brother to get us all out and
were certainly just as brave. Yet, how did you feel before I gave
you that gun?"

"Second-class," I answered, not hesitating
at all. My eyes met Tim's. "Like a little kid."

Li nodded. "In some ways, Rapput is right
about you two. You're indeed children of a warrior culture, though
a far more muted and toned-down one than his own. Most human
cultures are at least in some ways warrior-based, but you're closer
to your violent tribal past than most. The frontier times weren't
that long ago, and your culture reflects it." He smiled. "Now, how
would Rapput feel if he were to come around again and find out that
we thought so little of his fighting ability—and you might as well
say 'thought so little of his manhood,
'
to his way of thinking—that we didn't even bother
to pick up a weapon and bring it along for him?"

Tim and I pondered that for a long time as
we crawled through the brush. The river was so close now that we
could hear it trickle and rush. We came upon an opening, a sort of
green-roofed cave amidst the vegetation, and Li smiled again before
lying Rapput's travois down. Clearly, this was where we were to
spend the night.

"When this is all over, he won't be
insulted," Tim said, nodding. "Or at least he won't have been
insulted by
us
."

"He'd have been really hurt," I added. "It
would've made him look bad to his own kind, too. I can see how, now
that you've explained it."

"Honor is the most important thing there is
to an Artemu." Li shrugged. "That's part of why you two are armed
as well. Not only would Rapput expect it, but you might as well
start to learn how to think that way yourselves. And it won't hurt
your future at all if the other Artemesians are aware that you
honorably bore arms in this crisis as well."

My face fell; I didn't like being reminded
that I was still a hostage. "So why are we camping so near to the
cold water, Mr. Li?" I crossed my arms and shivered to reinforce my
point.

"You tell me," he answered. "Think it
through for yourself—it's how we learn. But I'll give you a hint.
We won't have a fire tonight either. Instead we'll all huddle with
Rapput, who luckily for us has a body temperature higher than
ours."

I frowned again, but it was Tim who came up
with the right answer. "Night-vision gear," he said. "Starlight
scopes. Infra-red detectors."

Li smiled. "Excellent, Tim!" He drew his
assault pistol then returned it to its holster. "This is advanced
military gear. While clearly they don't have an unlimited supply of
the stuff, we have to assume they have imaging equipment. So—"

"—so we're camped in weeds so thick that
they can't see any further than we can despite all the gadgets in
the world," I finished. "Leaving both sides equally blind."

"Not equally," Li answered, reaching for
Tim's pillowcase. It held most of the food, and I was pretty sure
he wanted to dig back into the poutine. After all, he'd burned an
awful lot of energy. "They'll have to make noise to get close. So
in a pinch, we shoot at the sound. Which our weapons are
excellently suited for, I'll add."

I nodded back. It made sense. Then I sighed
and untied my right sneaker. The sooner I dealt with my blister,
the sooner it'd stop hurting.

19

Rapput, it turned out, made an excellent substitute
for an electric blanket. He regained his senses for a few minutes
while we were nestling up close to him and arranging the comforters
and such, long enough to grasp what was going on and what he needed
to do to help. So it was that Tim slept curled up in the small of
the alien's back, while I spent the night hugged to Rapput's chest.
It was a lot like sharing a bed with a huge dog, except that Rapput
was warmer and softer than any dog could ever be. He even smelled
nice once you got used to him—sort of like cinnamon. And unlike any
dog, he kept his hand cupped over the top of my head all night
long, which I suppose would've made me feel even more safe and
special if I were a real Artemu. Even Li snugged up close, which
was of course right and proper under the circumstances, though
sometimes he disappeared. Presumably, this was to scout.

Despite Rapput's pleasant presence, no one
slept much. The ground was terribly cold, for one thing, and not
nearly as soft as it might've been. Tim and I'd been through a lot
the day before, so much that even we'd have admitted it was
bothering us. And even worse, Li had gotten me thinking about a lot
of things all at once, so many that every time I thought I had one
idea all chased down and worked out it blurred and merged with six
others and I had to begin all over again.

Tim and I had killed two men, and we hadn't
played fair doing it. Every time I looked back and thought things
through logically, I was convinced we'd done the right thing. Even
if Rapput hadn't been involved and the aliens wouldn't have killed
everyone by throwing rocks, we'd been kidnapped by force and
kidnappers didn't deserve a lot of sympathy.

Yet . . .

I frowned as Rapput's hand gently pressed
down on me in what I knew was meant as a reassuring and even loving
gesture. Rapput had kidnapped us too, just as thoroughly as the
Rocky Mountain Free State. Yet somehow, despite his social gaffes
and lack of understanding of what made us humans tick, I couldn't
bring myself to hate him. By his own lights he'd treated us all,
especially Dad, with a degree of respect that in a conqueror
bordered on the remarkable. He'd also sworn to protect us, and I
hadn't the slightest doubt that he'd have fought like ten-thousand
wildcats had the elevator's fall not so seriously injured him.

But then, Sam and Yukon had sworn to protect
us too, and . . . and . . .

I rolled my eyes in the darkness and sighed.
Right and wrong sure was awfully hard to work out sometimes! Dad
had said teaching us ethics was his most important job and that he
was sorry he wouldn't be around to finish it. That was where we
truly
belonged, back on the ranch with Mom and Dad! But even
if a by a miracle we somehow were allowed to go back, someone else
would have to go with Rapput in our places. And knowing that would
be pretty terrible, too. So things couldn't be like they were
before. Not
ever!
No matter
what
!

I slept in fits and starts all that night,
my dreams slithering like fat-bellied snakes through the spells of
wakefulness so that sometimes I wasn't sure which was which. Linda
had turned into Mother lying dead in her kitchen, and Sam was Dad
and Yukon was Rapput and I couldn't keep track of who meant what to
me anymore. All I wanted to do was cry, cry, cry. Tim's night
wasn't much better, from the snatches of weeping I caught on the
other side of the alien.

I can't speak for anyone else, but I
actually felt worse when dawn finally broke than I had before lying
down. My muscles were stiff and achy, my nose was all stuffed up,
and my t-shirt soaked with cold, muddy ooze. "Please, sir," I asked
Rapput, whose good hand was still firmly clamped on my head. "Will
you let me up?"

"Eergh!" he complained at first, making a
sound like a grizzly clearing its throat. Then his hand moved. "Of
course, beloved nephew." He smiled. "Was your night as awful as
mine?"

"Worse, probably," I answered, sitting up
and looking across to where Tim had been. He was already up and
gone. "Thank you for keeping us warm."

"Heh!" he answered. "That was the only good
part, actually." His smile faded. "You're aware our females aren't
. . .
Cannot
. . ."

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then you should also know that as soon as
the nursing time ends, we take our male young from their mothers.
This is unpleasant for all involved, I fear, but necessary. If a
child is left too long, valuable months of learning speech and
similar advanced social skills are lost. Your kind is more flexible
than our own in this regard—if we fail to master language within a
certain developmental period, it becomes much more difficult and
sometimes even impossible later." His face fell. "Some of our most
ancient horror stories center on male children whom the females
successfully hide away, so that they grow up as little more than
especially cunning animals. Like their mothers." He shivered.

"That's pretty terrible," I said.

"Yes," he agreed, reaching out and
straightening my hair with a single claw. "Among we Artemu, the
ordinary household is made up of a group of brothers, or sometimes
cousins if they're few enough. We share the burden of raising our
sons equally with each other. So . . . as your uncle, I in many
ways will be as close to you as your father, whom you've yet to
meet. It's normal for us to sleep with our young as we did last
night, though you and your brother are a little old for it except
under special circumstances. For me, it was very much a . . .
bonding experience."

I started to frown, but then caught myself.
"I don't even know yet how to properly address you, sir."

"I've been waiting for you to ask. I'm
simply Rapput to you, where all others outside the family should
use my honorifics. I’d equally
accept Uncle
Rapput
, or even just Uncle."

I nodded and stretched my kinked muscles.
"Then . . . Uncle, may I speak the truth to you, even though I
don't think it'll make you happy?"

He blinked. "Robertherman, even before what
you and your brother achieved yesterday I would've encouraged you
to always be honest with me, for honesty is the root of all honor.
Now, however, at a remarkably young age you've earned the right to
be regarded as a warrior-youth. An adult in many ways." He paused.
"You don't wish to be adopted, do you? Nor your brother."

I gulped. "No one ever asked us. But we
still have to go."

He nodded and leaned back in his travois,
wincing for an instant as the broken bones shifted. "In our
society, opinions are only rarely asked for. When orders are
issued, they are followed. Or at least this is true at the lower
levels, as with children." His eyes narrowed. "You two are the best
choices available. The researchers selected you and your brother as
having far more potential for success than any of the others
anywhere. Subsequent events have proven them correct. And your
mission is far more important than either of your lives, or even my
own."

"What exactly do you
want
from us?" I
demanded, my fists forming balls and my eyes leaking tears again.
"What's so damned important, anyway, that you have to ruin
everything for us?"

"I grieve for your very real loss," Rapput
replied. "But your kind and my own
must
learn to work
effectively together, and in order to achieve this a bridge
must
be built." He closed his eyes and sighed. "The universe
is a far darker and more dangerous place than your kind yet knows.
Or can for now be allowed to know. You wouldn't believe us if we
told you."

"Most humans won't ever trust us again," I
replied. "Not after you've held us off-planet for a while. They'll
all be like Yukon and Sam."

He opened his eyes again. "You may be
correct. But has it occurred to you that the attitudes of many of
we Artemesians may be in equal need of readjustment? And that
you're already taking serious steps toward this most noble of
goals?" He reached out for the nearest pillowcase. It was just
beyond his grasp, so I helped him. "Thank you, Robertherman. Li and
your brother went out to refill the water bottles and to scout. In
the meantime, I suppose I can be of at least some use by getting
breakfast ready." His smile widened in a way that I was beginning
to associate with sarcasm. "Cold poutine! I don't know about you,
but I can hardly wait!"

The poutine was indeed pretty awful stuff,
but the cold flapjacks with maple syrup dribbled over them were
better. Fortunately for the rest of us, maple syrup was on the
short list of human foods the Artemu couldn't stomach. So we only
had to share the limited supply three ways. Li ate like a wolf, and
I couldn't blame him after the way he'd worked so hard yesterday
dragging Rapput.

"Colonel Li," the alien began as we finished
off the last of everything—from this point forward we'd simply
starve unless we stumbled across some berry-bushes or something
else equally unlikely happened. "I . . . am deeply moved by the
efforts
you made upon my
behalf yesterday."

The Korean smiled and nodded
acknowledgement, but said nothing.

"I've not exactly been myself lately, "
Rapput continued. "And perhaps haven't been thinking as clearly as
I might hope. But now I've no further excuses." His eyes rose to
meet those of our instructor. "I'll admit it's been many months
since I've read any reports on the subject, but humans of your
physical stature aren't supposed to be capable of such strength and
endurance as you've been displaying."

Li straightened his back and smiled his
usual gentle smile. "I'm a world-class athlete, sir. Over-age,
perhaps. But still in excellent training."

Rapput nodded. "Far out on the edge of the
statistical curve, then—I can see that." Then he frowned. "It's
still not, I don't believe, reasonable to expect you to repeat the
effort all day today."

Li looked down. "I can, and I shall.
Eventually we'll climb a small mountain. It's essential to my
escape plan." He explained about his past mission, and how he was
certain that the authorities would still be looking for his
symbol.

Rapput nodded "You fear the impact of my
death on we Artemu and from there on all humanity, and in all
honesty well you should." He sighed and flipped his robe aside,
exposing his ornate belt-buckle—its design featured two crossed,
overly-curved swords. "This is a recorder, Li. It's on all the
time. If anything should happen, take it with you. The truth shall
at least clear you and the boys of any suspicion of complicity,
though I doubt it'll help with the larger issues."