Silent Songs (21 page)

the female?--stepped onto the shore and picked up something from the ground.

K'heera stared. The being held a small container. As soon as she lifted it, the Simiu could tell it had been manufactured of some natural substance, perhaps wood. It was simply but elegantly designed.

Scooping something from it, the creature playfully splashed back into the water after her companion. She rubbed her hands along her partner, singing all the while. The male must have found the experience pleasurable because he just lay in the water passively while the other one massaged him.

A bipedal creature, with hands, who can communicate vocally, make
containers, and perhaps even medicinal ointments?

How many measurably intelligent beings could one planet evolve? Could K'heera's flight have helped her stumble upon the one thing that might pull her family from their shameful caste?

She had to communicate with them, she
had
to. K'heera watched with a suddenly inexhaustible patience as the two beings played. Finally, the female stood in the shallow water. Slowly, the Simiu parted the vegetation, allowing the two to see her.

Both creatures were plainly startled by her presence. Calmly, K'heera stepped from behind the vegetation and sat facing them. Then she made the Simiu greeting sign, extending her hand in the gesture of welcome, peace, and honor. She did it again, then waited for them to make the next move.

Lene's first thought when she heard the rustle of the brush was that Arvis'

mother had come spying on them. Her hindbrain tried to force her into panicked flight, because the stodgy matriarch would be furious if she found them both nude, with the scent of male mating hormone rich on Arvis' skin.

Arvis became frightened, too, and crouched behind her, hiding there as if her small body could somehow protect his huge frame. But when the brush parted, out stepped ... an animal? No, Lene realized, not an animal. No animal wore clothing, and this beast had a garment slung over its back and shoulders. There was artwork on the garment, and things bulged from its pockets.

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This had to be one of the
humans
they'd been hearing so much about. Even now, the Glorious First pursued them in his private transport. Lene hadn't seen one yet, but she hadn't realized they had so much hair. Also, they were supposed to walk on two feet, like the Chosen, yet this one clearly walked on all fours.

Well, those details hardly mattered. This human had to be unaware of the capture of its fellows on their space station, since it was plainly eager to communicate. There were only a few humans widely scattered on this planet, and she'd heard they were here for scientific study and peaceful interactions with native species. Lene paused. Could this human think
they
were natives? That would explain its willingness to interact. And wasn't that the whole purpose of the League these beings belonged to?

Lene considered her actions carefully. If she handled this right, she might be able to capture this human. What would the First think of that? He had a small army and still hadn't captured one personally. The Second, Dacris, had had his humans just placidly walk into his trap. This would take cunning.

The creature made a gesture toward them, and when they didn't respond, repeated it more slowly. Lene lifted her head. It could be a greeting. Slowly, she repeated the gesture. The tiny, monochrome eyes of the alien widened.

Arvis watched Lene carefully, then clumsily repeated the gesture. The alien then tapped itself and made a terrible sound, nearly panicking Arvis completely. Lene held his arm firmly.

"It's all right," she reassured him. "This human is trying to tell us its name.

Don't be afraid."

"This is a human?" Arvis asked.

"Yes," Lene sang.

He stared at the alien for a long moment. "What's a human?"

She sighed, trying not to think of the years ahead, the endless, childlike questions, that slack, expressionless face, or the passionless, clumsy touch of this idiot her father's stupidity had forced her to marry. To marry him was bad enough, but to have to woo this creature . . . ?

Lene turned to the alien, and pointed to herself and sang her name. Then she turned to Arvis and did the same.

"Why did you tell it
my
name?" Arvis asked fearfully.

"We have to make friends with it," Lene explained. "You have to help me."

Arvis was good at making friends among the Industrious. That tendency was the remnants of the strong political personality the First's family all had. She hated thinking about the potential that had been lost when Arvis had been stunted. But then,

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if he hadn't been stunted, he would have been too highly ranked to marry her.

Lene stepped out of the water, urging Arvis to join her. Cautiously they moved closer to the alien. Lene squatted on her haunches, much as the alien did. Arvis sat also, but first he moved a bit closer to the alien. He pointed to it and sang, "Human. You are a human?"

The alien must've thought he was trying to say its name, because it repeated that terrible sound again. Lene wondered how they were ever going to use these people as workers, when communication between them was clearly impossible. Suddenly the alien held up its hands. Slowly, deliberately, it gestured, then made the sound for its name again, then pointed to itself.

Lene was confused. The alien gestured again.

Arvis chirped cheerfully, imitating the gesture. The alien made a different hand motion, then pointed to them. Arvis repeated that gesture as well. The Industrious were all very imitative, and the First's son was more intelligent than some.

The alien made a third gesture, and Arvis copied that as well. Surprised, Lene realized the alien could use its
hands
to make a language of gestures.

What a clever creature! No wonder the Glorious First was so excited about their potential.

Arvis and the human were happily building a small repertoire of gestures.

Very appropriate, since it was destined to spend the rest of its days communicating with the Industrious. As the two proceeded with their language interchange, Lene considered how she might lure the human back to the settlement. It would have to be overpowered and drugged, but the only thing Lene had with her was the male mating hormone.

That oil was Lene's gift to Arvis. Rubbing that hormone on the lower back and tail had begun an unstoppable process that would culminate during the next long rain. Then, whether Arvis' mother liked it or not, Lene would bear the First's grandchild.

Lene knew that if the rains came before Arvis was truly in love with her, his mother would demand they wait until the next season. And what if Arvis could never transfer his emotional attachment from his parents to her?

She had no intentions of waiting for future rains or the fickleness of an Industrious' emotions. She had been waiting her whole life for the rank she should have been born into. When the rains came, whether Arvis loved her or not, he'd
have
to breed.

Distractedly, Lene glanced around for the oil container. For her, that was more valuable than even this human. It wasn't where

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she'd left it. Arvis and the alien were still happily gesturing to one another; in fact, the First's Industrious son seemed completely smitten with his new language skills. Then Lene looked again. Her round eyes opened wide.

Arvis was holding the oil container so the alien could see it. The human sniffed it, then, before Lene could move, Arvis smeared some on the alien's bare palm, singing that the oil would make the human feel good.

Oh, no!
Lene thought, fighting panic. What effect could that hormone have on an alien physiology? The human must've had a similar concern, because it jerked its hand back and rubbed it on the ground to remove the oil. Arvis acted confused. The hormone must've begun stinging because the alien shook the affected hand wildly and, darting to the river's edge, plunged its arm under the water, scrubbing its hands.

Water will make it worse!
Lene thought. The human didn't have the moist, glandular skin she had, but she couldn't risk the chance that water might speed the absorption of the hormone into its blood, as it did on her people.

Impulsively, she leaped at the alien, grabbing its arm, pulling it out of the water.

The alien shrugged her off with surprising ease and washed frantically, in obvious pain. Desperately, Lene tackled the creature, wrapping her long limbs around it. If she could only immobilize it with a wrestling hold!

Suddenly Arvis screeched, "NO! Don't hurt the human! Don't hurt!" and flung himself at her. The three of them tumbled into the river in a jumble of fur, skin, arms, and legs. Completely terrified, the human fought against the pain in its hand, their combined arms, and the pull of the river.

"Stop, Arvis!" Lene sang in her most commanding voice. To her amazement, Arvis defied her, grasping the human and pulling it out of Lene's grip. "Arvis, watch your patch!" she shrilled.

The warning came too late as the dull yellow tissue on Arvis' right arm brushed the human lightly.

The Industrious' poison is too weak,
Lene thought desperately.
The water
would've washed his small toxin residue away. The male hormone couldn't
have strengthened it so soon. . . .

The human stiffened, a soft moan of pain escaping its clenched jaws. Then it fell like a stone under the water.

Arvis stared at the limp form as Lene thrashed toward it and grabbed a handful of its hair, yanking its head out of the river. "Help me!" she demanded and the frightened Arvis assisted her as they wrestled the creature onto dry land.

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"Did ... I kill . . . ?" Arvis' song dissolved into whimpers.

"Did you kill the human?" Lene asked him viciously. "Yes, you did! You didn't listen to me, and look what happened."

"But you tried to hurt the human," Arvis argued back. "I only tried to make it feel
good!"

Lene started to explain about the hormone, then realized how useless that would be. Instead, she went on the defensive. "Who are you to
disobey
me?

I am
Chosen
and you are
not!
Do you know what can happen to a disobedient Industrious servant?"

Arvis' big eyes became huge. "No. . .."

No, you wouldn't,
Lene realized,
the son of the Glorious First has never
tasted the rod in the hands of a good punisher, or had a day's hunger, or
been sold to a pharmacist and forced into maximum toxin production. You
have no idea. . . .

The spark of defiance Arvis had displayed dissolved, and the childlike servant began trilling in terror.

Lene took a deep breath to regain her decorum. These damned, stupid Industrious could make you enjoy hurting them. Then she heard a strange whistling sound.

She stared down at the prostrate human, who was dripping water onto her feet. Slowly, the alien's breath whistled into its lungs. With agonizing deliberation, the air whistled back out again.

Arvis was looking at the human, also. "Oh, good," he sang pathetically.

"You're
not
dead. I didn't kill you."

But the laborious breathing was the only positive sign the human could give them. Its eyes, opened wide, did not blink as they had when it communicated with them, and its limbs were held out rigidly. Perhaps the doctors could save it.

"You
disobeyed
me, Arvis," Lene sang softly. His fearful expression was now tinged with confusion. "I'm
supposed
to punish you, you know that, don't you? But I'm sure you didn't mean it. You'll never do it again, will you?"

"Never!" Arvis sang in a soft whisper.

"Do you know
why
I won't punish you for your disobedience?"

"No." Arvis seemed baffled.

"Because that's not the way you treat people you
love.
And I love you, Arvis,
don't
I?"

The servant didn't answer, just stared, confused.

"I love you very much," Lene insisted, her tone soothing. "I could never hurt you, dear." She let him think about that. Then she asked softly, "Do you love me?"

Arvis closed his eyes, obviously at a loss as to what to say. Even someone as simple as Arvis understood the significance of

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the word "love." He loved his parents; he'd learned the power of that word from them. Their love protected him.

"If you didn't love me, Arvis, I would be so sad. ... I don't know what I'd do. Do you love me?"

He blinked. "You'll never tell. . . about my disobeying?"

"I couldn't... if you loved me ... ?"

Finally, he sang, "Yes, Lene, I love you."

"You've made me so happy, Arvis," she sang sweetly. "Now, get dressed.

We've got to get this human to the doctors, to see if they can counteract
your
toxins." He flinched at the reminder, but docilely began pulling his clothes on. "And one more thing, my love." She considered how to phrase this next command. It couldn't be a suggestion, because then he might not do it, yet she didn't dare demand it too blatantly. "Please tell your mother, Arvis, about your love for me."

"She won't like that," he sang bluntly.

"Oh, she will, my dear, you'll see," Lene assured him. And once the old matriarch heard that song from her son's own throat, she'd be helpless to stop the marriage. The First's wife would never deny Arvis the joy of a wife, the pleasure of a breeding cycle. Lene suppressed a shudder at that eventuality, as she leaned down to lift the heavy, water-soaked human.

Every breath that K'heera pulled into her paralyzed, pain- wracked body was liquid fire, but it was one more breath away from death. And when she'd first felt the poison course through her blood, she knew death would be her next experience. The ointment the alien had slapped into her palm had burned without leaving a mark, but that had been nothing compared to what had happened when the spot of yellow on his arm had touched her.

She'd felt as though she'd wrapped her hands around a voder's power pack, and then there'd been a brief respite as she'd lapsed into unconsciousness.