Silent Songs (19 page)

Tesa clenched her jaw. "Okay, fine. It's unlikely. So
where
are Meg and Szuyi?
Where
are my grandparents?"

"I might be able to find that out," Bruce insisted, annoyed, "if you'd let me send--"

"No!" Tesa signed. "No messages. No invitations to orbiting aliens, come and get us, here we are! What's more, we're shutting down our equipment."

She indicated the ship, the sleds, the stove.
"Everything
off. No a-gravs. And no fires."

"Oh, come on, Tesa," Jib complained.

"If we don't keep trying to reach someone," Bruce insisted, "we'll never make contact."

"Meg and Szu-yi can contact us when they land here. When they give us a nice, logical explanation for those computer messages, then I'll admit I was acting foolish and you can all enjoy a good laugh at my expense.
But
... if Meg and Szu-yi aren't here in two days, we're moving camp. Jib, when you talk to K'heera, make sure she knows. Tell her,
no
arguments. Besides ...

we've got other ways to send a message."

She turned to Flies-Too-Fast, who was standing beside her. "I want you to fly home. Speak to any Wind people you meet on the way, or any Travelers.

Ask them if they've seen or heard of anything unusual, anything un-Worldly.

Halfway home, you'll

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start seeing Blue Cloud people. If anyone knows anything, they will. Ask the Travelers and the Wind people to bring the news to Lightning, so we can learn it."

"I understand," Flies-Too-Fast agreed. "Alone, I can fly home in as little as four days."

"It'll be a
week
before we learn anything!" Bruce protested.

She ignored him, focusing on Flies-Too-Fast. "Time to live up to your name, friend. If we're not here when you return, find the branch of this River that we followed down from the north. We'll be near the shore. And remember, whatever happens,
be careful.
I'm depending on you to learn what we need to know."

"I'll find you, Good Eyes," the youngster assured her. "Be careful yourself."

The huge avian ran, opened mammoth wings, and, pumping hard, lifted into the sky.

K'heera watched the misty spouts of spray marking the passage of the Spirit Singers. Whatever the humans had discussed after she'd left them angered the Terrans. The tension among them was palpable, and K'heera basked in secret delight over it--a most dishonorable emotion.

Jib had returned to the River, standing in chest-high water, communing with his Singers while Bruce fiddled desultorily with the
Demoiselle.
The Interrelator had gone back to her shelter, studiously preening one of the cloaks she slept on, while her cohort stood grouped about her, engaged in the same activity. All except for Flies-Too-Fast, who had left hours ago.

K'heera didn't know why, nor did she care.

Her
people were oversensitive, but humans were worthy of a Simiu's friendship? This must be another incomprehensible human joke. Bruce's acting the uncle to her had been mere patronizing. Jib had made a polite attempt to engage her in conversation after her argument with the Interrelator, but he had no real interest in her. A telepathic
animal
held more fascination for him.

K'heera wondered how it was possible to be on such an open world and yet feel so claustrophobic.

All this agonizing only compounded her isolation. It was dishonorable to wallow in self-pity, or delight in others' disagreements. She had to find something to distract her.

On a clump of coarse, bright red grass rested the container holding the alien probe. It still sat near the
Demoiselle,
but Bruce was so engrossed in the internal workings of the ship, he wouldn't notice her. Besides, she'd watched him clean the

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device and was familiar with most of the simple functions the container could perform. Patting the pockets of her tool-laden vest, K'heera approached it.

She examined the hieroglyphics closely and asked the container's computer if they appeared to form the kind of pattern that would indicate a map.

Frankly, K'heera thought maps were unlikely. Of all the Known Worlds, humans had been the only beings so naive as to put clear directions to their homeworld on satellites destined to rove aimlessly through space.

The computer couldn't find a map, but it did identify a raised design that might indicate a panel. What she really wanted to know was whether there was an inner power source. She thought they might be able to tap into it to help solve their communications problem. Bruce had even agreed with her about that. .. but first she needed more information about the exterior. Power cells could be dangerous.

Impulsively, she asked it to identify the alloys making up the probe's shell, as she'd seen Bruce do earlier. The scanner hadn't been able to identify the casing, but K'heera thought she could boost it by adding a different power cell. Once they knew more about the shell, they could learn more about any possible control panels, or even think about removing the casing. She'd suggested upgrading the computer, but Bruce pointed out that Meg was due imminently, and the
Crane
had much better equipment. How many hours ago was that?

Opening the tiny computer, she sorted through her extra cells, finding the one she wanted. Clipping it into an empty slot, K'heera closed the computer and asked it to scan again. New information scrolled across the screen. She drew closer.

Then, without warning, the small probe sprang to life. Bright rays flashed out of nearly invisible seams, stretching impossibly far, brilliant even in the strong daylight. One of them hit Thunder, sleepily perched in a nearby tree, and she squawked and leaped into the air. Terrified, K'heera scrambled away while the alien machine continued its bizarre light show.

Bruce darted around the ship and stared at the probe. He lunged for the container, slapping the controls, shutting the computer off. Instantly, the rays disappeared, and the probe resumed its harmless appearance.

K'heera's heart slammed, her face burning. Jib ran up from the beach, dripping water. At the same time, the Interrelator, who had bolted out of her shelter, skidded to a stop. All around them, airborne Grus landed with a flurry of nervous calling. Sand blew

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everywhere. Overhead, Thunder wheeled, still shrieking. K'heera

approached the container cautiously.

"What happened?" Bruce demanded. All eyes were on her.

"I... I don't really know . . ." she answered.

"The container's scanner was on," Bruce continued. "And it'd been
boosted.

Did you do that?"

And who else would have?
she thought. "Yes." She forced herself to sign evenly. "I wanted to analyze the casing. I thought it would be a good way to pass the time."

"I told you not to do that!"

"You said we should not bother because we would soon be on the
Crane
where there was superior equipment."

"Well"--Bruce paused--"that's true. I should've been more specific. I didn't want the scanner boosted because sometimes a scanning device can alert certain satellites--like spy satellites-- that they're being read. There have even been some satellites made to fire on anything probing them. On the
Crane
we can contain it, so even if it did that we wouldn't be in danger. I should've explained my reasons more clearly."

Weapons, again,
K'heera thought disgustedly.
They think other beings are
all like them. What perverted creatures could be so insane as to put
weapons in a probe?

"What
did
it do?" Jib asked.

Bruce examined the container's diagnostic analysis. "Looks like the boosted scanner triggered it, turned it on. I guess the rays are part of its workings."

"So this thing just told its owners everything about us?" the Interrelator asked, alarmed.

"I don't think so," Bruce reassured her. "It was just on for a second. It barely had time to store that information."

"I don't want
anything
electronic used, I thought I made that clear!" Now she was addressing them all. K'heera could tell she was furious, which only baffled the Simiu more.

It was Jib's turn to look embarrassed. "Sorry, Tesa. We talked . . . but I'm afraid ... it slipped my mind." The Interrelator shot Jib an irritated glance.

You mean you were too eager to return to the Singers to remember,
the Simiu thought.

"Forgive me, K'heera," the Interrelator signed. "We won't be using any modern equipment near the camp until we know more about what's

happening with our main computers. If we aren't joined by Meg and Szu-yi in the next two days, we'll reevaluate. I should've told you myself. It was my oversight."

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It must madden them to keep apologizing to me,
the Simiu thought. Then she realized she'd just been cut off from doing anything interesting. The next two days would creep along with painful slowness. What had she ever done to deserve this? She felt the very presence of these humans suffocating her.

Suddenly her stomach growled. "Honored Interrelator, since there is little else for me to do, may I go foraging?"

Tesa nodded. "Of course. The Grus will go with you."

She was about to suggest that was not necessary, but the look on the woman's face was not indulgent. "Very well," she agreed with forced good cheer.

"But why is she carrying that?" None-So-Pretty asked Lightning, stretching her head to see around him.

As Lightning watched the Simiu, Sunrise, lumbering ahead of the group, walking along on three legs, he wondered that same thing. They'd been traveling along an animal path through very dense forest for a long time now, but the alien continued to pass shrub after shrub of rich fruit. Twice he'd asked her why she felt it necessary to carry the clumsy flyer but she had rudely refused to answer him. Her bringing the sled disturbed him.

"Good Eyes doesn't want these un-Worldly devices used," Scorched reminded him, as if she needed to.

Sunrise seemed to be in compliance, Lightning rationalized, since she had not turned it on. Instead, she'd strapped it to her back and trudged along, holding it in place with one hand.

"Obviously," Frost Moon announced, "she carries it in the hopes it will protect her from the Spirit Singers' songs."

Lightning began to wonder how sensible it had been for him to bring the youngest cohort members with him. He'd wanted Hurricane, Snowberry, and Winter Bloom to stay behind with Good Eyes, just in case anything happened. He trusted his human friend's instincts. They'd saved his life more than once.

"If she's carrying it for protection," None-So-Pretty pointedly asked Frost Moon, "then why did she sneak it out from behind her shelter, when she'd gone for her mesh bags?"

Scorched agreed with the little female. "She was hiding it from Good Eyes.

And she won't answer Lightning's questions. It's plain enough to me."

"What is?" Frost Moon and None-So-Pretty asked at the same time.

Scorched just blinked at them, suddenly confused herself. They all turned to Lightning for clarification. But he already knew

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that understanding un-Worldly creatures was something that he had yet to master.

Finally, the Simiu stopped, unstrapped the flyer from her back, and took a few moments to groom her matted crest. Lightning could see nothing available for the alien to eat.

"This isn't a very good place," he told her. "We should go back to where we passed the sweet briar bushes."

"You go back," she suggested. "I'm going west." She finished her grooming, leaned over the flyer, and turned it on. It lifted eerily into the air, hovering there. The three young cohort members watched Lightning, waiting to see what he'd do.

"Good Eyes does not want that on," he reminded her gently.

"The Interrelator said she does not want any equipment operating
near the
camp."

Yes, that was what Good Eyes had signed, but. . .
He took another tactic.

"Why do you need the sled?"

Sunrise turned her vivid purple eyes on the young avians. "I
need
to
fly.

Surely you can understand that, my friend. I feel surrounded. I need to be alone."

Lightning understood that need well enough, yet... "Good Eyes would not want you to fly far."

"We will all be together," Sunrise insisted.

"This forest is too dense for us to fly through," he told her, though he had the feeling she already knew that. "I suggest you turn the flyer off and .. ."

"What are you, the Interrelator's pet?" Sunrise demanded angrily, "or are you an independent thinking person? Must you do
everything
she tel s you?"

Lightning stood tall, glancing back at his cohort, aware that things had taken a turn he didn't understand. "I'm Good Eyes' friend. She's more than friend, she's been a parent to me. She teaches me about un-Worldly things I must understand to lead my people someday."

Behind him, he saw None-So-Pretty sign, "What's a
pet?

Before Frost Moon could offer an explanation, Sunrise responded angrily.

"How can you stand to be so beholden to her? She is perverse! Refusing to have her handicap corrected. And she is without honor. In the face of the enemy, she
fled
and hid. Is this what she teaches you, how to be dishonorable?"

Lightning's feathers stood out slowly and he drew himself up to his full height, even as the youngsters around him drew back.

"Do
not
insult Good Eyes again!" he ordered the Simiu, his eyes blazing.

The patch where his crown would soon be stretched

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and the short feathers covering it stood up. "Good Eyes' decision to take us away led to the greatest compromise my people have ever known. She has more than your tiny
honor,
Sunrise, she has the power to forge alliances between the people and creatures we once cal ed Death. You wil
not
speak badly of her again."

K'heera's crest lifted. He knew her people were easily goaded into bodily combat, but he did not fear that. Simiu were not the only ones who could defend themselves.