Changelings (10 page)

“Now then,” she said at the end of class one day, “for your homework, I want you all to design a holo of your own home world. Yes, yes, I know a few of you are station born and bred and have never been dirtside, so you will need to ask your parents for help locating, gathering information about, and depicting their worlds of origin. If they are from one of the older planets, you may place your focus on the country from which they come, its language, if other than Standard, customs as they deviate from those in station life, imports and exports, and contributions to the Federation. If you or your parents come from one of the planets terraformed by Intergal to house the inhabitants of Old Earth and some of the other older worlds, then we’d like to know what life is like there.

“Focus on how your world has been developed and what it’s like for boys and girls who grow up there. If possible, compare their lives with yours here on the station. You will be sharing your holos with the rest of the class in two weeks. In the meantime, this class period will be devoted to learning to design holos. My assistant, Top Tech Wayans, will be helping you develop the technical end of your projects.”

Murel’s hand shot up and Dr. Freyasdottur called on her. “What if there’s two of us from the same planet? Can we do our holo together?”

“Certainly, Murel. In fact, most of you here have other family members in class. Even if you share a holo, you will each have to do a presentation of a different aspect of your planet’s culture, environment, or social structure, of course.”

Marmie’s eyebrows rose when they told her about the assignment. “Alors! That should be extremely challenging for children your age, but no doubt you will all learn a lot about each other as well as other places in the universe and how to design a holo.”

The twins were so involved in their own project, they didn’t realize how truly Marmie had spoken until the other kids began their presentations.

“This is Wurra-Wurra, where my folks came from,” a boy named Rory said. His skin was very dark, almost black, and his features looked like the ones some of the old men carved with chain saws out of tree stumps. His eyes were a brilliant and startling blue. He opened his program, and a stretch of salmon pink sky and blowing sand that looked like a spray of blood under two glowing suns spun out before them. Tall rusty spires rose in clusters here and there. “It’s got two suns, see, and they dry everything up. So it’s desert, right?”

“Are those tall things the buildings of your cities?” Lan Huy, a girl a year or two older than the twins, asked.

Rory laughed, a sharp little yip. “Not our cities, Lan. They are cities, though. The ants that live there could probably tell you all the best places to get tea or go shopping.”

“So—you’re not the dominant species on your planet?” Ke-ola asked curiously and with no hint of humor or mockery. In school he spoke more correctly than he did when he was just messing around with the other kids, Murel noticed.

“We think so. Don’t know what the ants think. Stay away from them, my folks said, much as possible.”

“Where’s your water?” Murel asked.

“Underground, what there is,” Rory said. “Mum says you have ter dig for it.”

Murel said, “Underground water is the
only
water you have? We have underground water too, but we’ve got regular rivers and seas and such as well.”

“You’ll have your turn soon enough, Murel,” Dr. Freyasdottur said. “Go on, Rory.”

Rory finished up.

Ke-ola was next. He shuffled to the front and tapped in his program, picked up his laser wand. As soon as he started his presentation, Murel and Ronan realized there was even more to their large friend than there appeared to be. Three worlds started spinning.

“I am Ke-ola O’honu-aumakua. On Old Earth my people lived on islands in the warmest of the two great oceans, the Ocean of Peacefulness. Originally we ate what the islands brought us, fish from the sea, fruit from the trees. The climate was mild and warm, and except for volcanoes erupting at times, or monsoon rains, our lives were peaceful. Then other people came to the islands with things and ideas they said would make our lives better. Some things seemed to but others did not. Finally came the day when Intergal came to the few of us who were left and still in possession of some of the islands in our chain. They told us they now owned our island and we could not live there any longer but would be moved to a better place. We did not quite believe them because, although the islands were not as good in many ways as they had been before the new ideas and things came, they were still a very good place to live. The new place was a specially prepared world that much resembled our own. We brought with us the seeds to some of our trees, and the eggs and young of our fish and animals. My family brought the eggs of the sacred Honu, the sea turtle that is our special animal. Our last name means ‘people of the sea turtle.’

“For a time we lived in the new place fairly contentedly, though it was a new place and never home and we still sang to each other of the old islands lost to us. Then the company came and told us that our new place, which they already owned, had been found to have a rare mineral they needed for a vital manufacturing process, but that another place had been prepared for us and we would be moved again.

“This time, the new place was not as well prepared as the other, and though we brought our plants and animals with us again, they do not thrive in this new place. Neither do we. The gravity is greater, the weather is colder and more changeable, and our animals must be kept in artificial pens and tanks, our plants in big houses with artificial sunlight. Once, on the old world, and to a lesser extent on the second one, we were scientists and singers, ranchers and dancers, teachers and creators of beautiful and useful items.”

He paused, pointed the wand to the first globe and drew up a picture of what looked like a hat made of flowered fabric with a pineapple-shaped container strapped to either side of it. Ke-ola suddenly grinned, a warm and funny expression that seemed totally at odds with the serious and even sad look he’d worn throughout the rest of his recitation. “Well, some of the items were ugly and useless too, but the outsiders seemed to want them so we sold them to them.” Then the grin went away as if it had never been and he continued in the same slightly singsong voice, “We were healers, lawgivers and musicians, makers of food and purveyors of goods. We have become a people of zookeepers and gardeners.

“The company tells us that we are ungrateful for everything they have done for us and that our people must learn new jobs and new ways to be more productive to repay the kindness of the company. And so I have been sent here to school on a special scholarship to learn more about how to maintain space stations. I cannot tell you of imports or exports—everything my people have they have brought with them or have had provided for them, at a cost, by the company, who may take back whatever they need, including us. Fortunately, even though the heavy gravity is very hard on the mamas when they give birth, our families have become large with little to do but grow food and children. We don’t manufacture much anymore or work away from home much either. Mostly the older people tell the younger ones stories and teach us our old songs and dances so we don’t forget who we are or what we had a long time ago. That’s all good, but as you can tell, we don’t always have enough to eat.” He patted his round stomach. “So probably it is a good thing I am here among you, my classmates, where I don’t get so skinny I blow away on the wind. Makes more food for my family at home too.”

As he talked, he spun the worlds and brought up the animals, trees, volcanoes, fish, and turtles of the first world, and showed people like him doing the jobs he described. The second world he showed had less of everything, and the new one had a lot of the same things, only in containers set on stark landmasses.

That’s terrible that they just kept taking his people’s homes away from them,
Murel said.
They’re i.p.’s too, just like us—the inconvenient peoples Intergal moved to terraformed worlds from places the company had a better use for.

Yeah, that’s kind of what the older people were afraid of about Petaybee, that once the company realized how good our world was, they’d try to move us off of it. That was before Mum and Da straightened it all out,
Ronan replied.

“That was excellent, Ke-ola, and far exceeded the assignment,” Dr. Freyasdottur said. “Your holos turned out so well I’m afraid you may have raised the grading curve on this assignment.”

The big kid flushed and grinned but to their surprise said, “Don’ do that, teachah. I cheated a little.”

“You did? You mean you didn’t make those holos?”

“I did. But I made two of ’em a long time ago, back on three world. Auntie Kimmie Lee, oldest lady living, she learned to make them to sell to visitors back on two world a long time ago. She taught us kids to keep us out of trouble, she says. Also, it shows us what it was like on those two worlds. What we were like. So I just uploaded the old ones I made for fun for the assignment. I did do the last one though, just like you said.”

“Oh well,” Dr. Freyasdottur said. Both twins could see she was trying hard not to giggle. “I won’t raise the curve then if you cheated, but I’ll just grade you on the new one. By the way, maybe instead of bothering Top Tech Wayans the next time we do holos, you must share your unfair advantage with the other students and teach them how to make their holos the way you did. Am I clear?”

“Yes’m,” he said, and sat down, trying to look suitably chastised.

Chesney Janko gave her presentation next. She was a year and a half younger than the twins and had grown up on a large industrial planet that was a company headquarters. Her family had moved to the station when her parents left the company’s employment to take a job with Marmie. She seemed to list imports and exports for hours. “Computer chips and antibiotics and guidance systems and butter and laser rifles and . . .” She listed them as they occurred to her and not in any particular order or with any particular interest.

Lan Huy had grown up on the station. Her father was one of Marmie’s top engineers. She said that at one time, a very long time ago, her father’s people had come from a small client country that paid tribute to a very large one. Some of the animals in the larger country were dragons, horned beasts that sounded a little like the curly coats, and birds called phoenixes that self-destructed and rebuilt themselves from ashes. She had seen evidence of these things, but had never encountered any herself except sometimes in dreams. Her presentation seemed to be mostly made up of imaginary stuff, which she said was legend, because although her people were once the most numerous on Old Earth, a catastrophic plague had all but wiped them out.

By the time it was their turn, the twins were both feeling even luckier than usual to be Petaybeans. They looked forward to showing their new friends what a proper planet should have.

But when they were finished, Rory made a big display of shivering. “Brrr, sounds cold to me.”

“It is cold, but we don’t mind really. Everyone is used to it and our bodies are adapted to it,” Murel told him.

“How’d they do that?” asked Chesney.

“The planet did it,” Ronan said. His sister looked away. She wished he hadn’t said that. She didn’t think it was a good idea to tell offworlders any more about Petaybee than they might already know.

“How could it do that? It’s not like planets think,” Rory scoffed.

“Petaybee does,” Ronan said. “It’s like it’s this really big person we all live on.” The holo spun on his computer screen.

“Looks like an ice ball to me,” Chesney said, shaking her head.

“It is an ice ball,” Murel said, her brows lowering and coming together to make a fierce expression, had she been able to see it. “But it’s
our
ice ball and at least it has ground water.”

“Now then, young’uns,” Dr. Freyasdottur said. “This lesson was to help you learn about one other’s home planets, not to criticize them or brag about your own. Please continue, twins.”

They did, but it was hard to give the other kids the right feeling about Petaybee when they couldn’t talk about winter swims with-out at least hinting that they could turn into seals. And they just couldn’t do that. They understood that much about what Da and Mum were trying to protect them from.

But at least the assignment let them know more about the other students and gave them some idea of how many different kinds of worlds and peoples there were on them.

By the end of the week they had heard from kids whose planets were desert, jungle, rich farmland, or mostly water.

“Nobody else seems to be able to talk to their world, though, Marmie,” Ronan said when their hostess asked them how their presentation went and how they liked the others. “Is Petaybee the only one that’s—you know—alive?”

Marmie shrugged. “I very much doubt it, mon petit. Perhaps it is just that Petaybee is more gregarious than the others. More outgoing. Or perhaps your people are simply more in tune with the world they were placed upon than others are elsewhere. It’s a great mystery.”

“Yes,” Murel said. “But I still think it would be cool if sometime some of those other worlds started letting their people know whose surface they were living on, don’t you?”

“Very cool, my darling. Very cool indeed,” Marmie agreed, fluffing Murel’s hair with her hand. “Perhaps, given enough time, they will.”

CHAPTER 11

F
OR THE FIRST
few months, the twins were able to talk to their parents often. At first it was every day, and then one of the expensive relays went down and the com systems had to be rerouted, so it was only possible to talk face-to-face every week. Then Petaybee began emitting electromagnetic interference so that half the time neither one could make out what the other was saying, or see the other either.

“How come it’s more that way now than when we left?” Murel asked.

“Lots of reasons,” Marmie replied. “Sunspots, the increased activity from the midsea volcanic region your father mentioned. You remember him saying that on his last recon swim he felt the heat in the water and smelled the sulfur much earlier than he had on previous trips?”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, “He said it was just a matter of a couple of years now before it surfaces. I hope we can go home by then. I want to see! Besides, if we can’t talk to them . . .”

The face-to-face calls finally became impossible, and the messages had to be routed through a number of different stations. It was hard to say anything important, much less be silly or share a joke, with so many people between you. Petaybee, Kilcoole, the people of their village, and their family began to feel very far away. Fortunately, school was interesting and they liked the other kids and most of their teachers; and of course they had each other, so they could forget to be homesick for long periods of time.

One day toward the end of the first term, Marmie asked them, “What flavor cake do you two like best?”

“Chocolate,” “Raspberry,” they answered at the same time.

“Chocolate raspberry it shall be then. Your parents cannot come for your birthday, but they’ve sent gifts and I’ve invited all of your classmates here for a party. I thought, if it was all right with you, we could make it a theme party and set it up as if it were a latchkay on Petaybee. How would that be?”

Ronan looked at Murel and Murel looked at Ronan.

Marmie said, “You do not care for the idea? Would it make you too homesick?”

“Oh, it’s a good idea, Marmie,” Murel said. “It’s just—we don’t think the other kids are really ready for Petaybee yet. I don’t think some of them liked our holo.”

Marmie gave an elegant lift and fall of her shoulders, with her hands outstretched, palms up. What Mum called a “Gallic shrug.” It said, basically, What is a sensible person supposed to do when other people are being so silly?

“Your holo was very nice,” she said finally. “Those who did not care for it were foolish. But a holo and Petaybee are different, yes?”

“Still. . .,” Murel said, and let her voice drift off as she looked at Marmie, hoping she’d understand the rest without her actually trying to say it.

“We’d like to keep the Petaybee part of our birthdays private, I guess,” Ronan said finally. “I’m sorry. It’s really nice of you to want to give us a party, Marmie, but we don’t have to have one. We could have the cake anyway, couldn’t we?” He looked at his sister. “And presents?”

Marmie laughed, and it sounded like bells jingling on sled dogs’ harnesses. “Yes, yes, we must have cake and presents and a party too. But the Petaybee part, that will be our own little celebration, after the others have left. I know! Everyone must come as a creature from their planet that either swims or flies.”

“Wouldn’t we be a little too realistic as seals?” Murel asked, wincing. She hated to keep shooting down Marmie’s ideas, but felt their friend got carried away with enthusiasm before thinking about how wrong things could go. Lately, it seemed to the twins that they’d had a lot of experience with how wrong things could go.

“Ah, but you will not be seals!” Marmie said.

“We will be if we go swimming,” Ronan said grimly.

“Only if you swim in the water. I am thinking you will not be swimming in the water, you will be swimming in the air.”

“Yes, but we can’t do that,” Murel said.

“You can in zero g,” Marmie told her. While they were thinking that over, she asked, “So, what will you be? Eagles? Fishes? Whales?”

“Otters,” they said at the same time. “We’ll be otters.”

E
VEN AFTER THE
humans rescued his family, Otter stayed in the small den in the riverbank, waiting for his friends the river seals to return. But winter ended and the ice melted and still they were gone and did not come home. Finally, Otter went to the dwelling he had seen them enter and sent his thoughts on the matter to the Father River Seal.

Father River Seal, where are your children? Shouldn’t they be back by now? Otters have many more games to play with them and things to show them. Marvelous things they will enjoy very much. Otters know lots of good secrets. Where are your river seal children?

What the . . .?
Father River Seal’s thought was fragmented and startled.

It’s me, Otter, Father River Seal. Do not be afraid,
Otter told him.

Laughter came into the Father River Seal’s thoughts.
I was not afraid, Otter. Merely thinking of something else.

Not thinking of your children? Although they are not here?

Always thinking of my children, Otter. Their mother and I both miss them very much, but we sent them somewhere they would be safe from the kind of people who took the other otters.

Those people are gone. The good people took them away. Why have your children not returned? No danger now!

A smile came into Father River Seal’s thoughts.
No danger for otters. But for my children, yes, there is still danger and their mother and I have been working hard to see to it that the danger such offworld scientific groups present will never threaten our children again.

That is good,
the otter said, for he could think of nothing else to say. His friends the river seal children were safe, but they were not in the river and so could not play with otters.
I will return to my family now but later I will come back here.

I’ll tell Ronan and Murel you were asking for them, Otter,
Father River Seal said, and went back to thinking his deep, unsealy thoughts and doing the unsealy things he did when in human form.

Otter was surprised, when he returned home again where the ice maze was in the winter, that none of his family were at play on the banks or in the river.
Where have all the otters who are not me gone?
he asked. He was asking himself but unexpectedly received an answer from the otters who were not there when he found a scent message.

Scent messages between river otters were quite complex, and in a way that would have astounded humans or river seals. River otters could write entire tomes with one spritz from the proper area or a rub from another. And there were dialects of scents understood only by otters of the same colony, as well as nuances of meaning, idiomatic expressions or slang of particular families, that only otters in the same colony could fully grasp, or smell.

It was fortunate that otters had excellent memories for scent too, because great otter romantic literature had been composed in scent messages, as well as geography texts and adventure stories.

The message that Otter found that day was somewhat simpler. It said, “Kinsman Otter who Plays with River Seals, we do not care for this place any longer. Too many wolves and too many men with otter cages. We are moving closer to the sea to seek solidarity with our cousins the sea otters. See you by the sea!” Otters could pun in scent messages too. The language of otters was full of puns. Not the same ones humans used, but otter puns, which were very funny because otters enjoyed laughing. Like humans, however, otters had similar sounds for the big water
sea
and what otters did with their eyes
see.

It was a long swim to the sea, especially all alone. The message was three days old, which meant the family was probably already at the shore. But it meant swimming with the current, and the weather was pleasant, as most weather was for otters, and so in a single day Otter caught up with part of his family, which had stopped at a particularly tempting mud slide. It was very long, slick, and muddy, and gave them a little “Whoop!” before they went splashing into the river, cleaned off the mud, and climbed back up the hill to slide again.

They had been playing for some time and were ready to join the rest of the family, so Otter had time for only a few slides—certainly not hundreds—before he resumed swimming again.

At last, after much swimming, with a few games along the way, they were reunited with the rest of the family on the banks of the river at the mouth where it spilled into the sea.

Where are our cousins the sea otters?
Otter asked his mother.

You see that island over there?
she replied, indicating a large landmass squatting amid the waves rolling onto the shore beyond their river camp.
They live there. It is full of sea otter dens, and you can see them lying on the rocks eating clams. Some have been coming over to show us where the best places to build dens might be here. We do not swim in that salty stuff they call water, but they say that in the winter, when the ice is in, we could walk to their island, though of course we would not do so unless asked. Like us, sea otters protect their homes with great ferocity.

She bared her teeth in a suitably ferocious way, and Otter backpaddled away from her a little. He knew his mother’s teeth and claws very well from times when she had been greatly ferocious about how her offspring should behave.

The river otters moved into their comfortable new dens in the wide river mouth. There were low hills nearby that made passable mud slides, once the otters removed the rocks at the bottom, which they did with great efficiency. These were useful in breaking open the delicious shellfish they found on the shore, which was technically their cousins’ territory, though the cousins did not use it much, preferring their island.

Otter loved the new delicacy and hunted on the shore as often as he could, keeping a careful eye on the island, lest ferocious cousins come and attack him for his boldness. Then one day he noticed that there were no longer any sea otters to be seen on the island. Not one. Not anywhere.

“Hah!” he said.
Where have they gone?
He alerted his family, and they all came to the beach to see for themselves. They could see he was right. No sea otters on the island’s narrow beach, no sea otters in the water, no sea otters on the shore, no sea otters higher up on the island. No sea otters anywhere.

Later in the day, all of the sea otters returned. To Otter’s surprise, three of the cousins swam straight to the shore. Otter was afraid at first, thinking that he’d been caught stealing their shellfish.

“Hah!” he said, greeting them.
Cousins, where did you all go? You disappeared. Otters who live in the river saw no otters who live in the sea all day.
Otter hid the shell of the fish he had just eaten behind him while pushing forward three rocks.
Otters came to the shore to bring you gifts but we did not see you on your island. Here are the gifts. Rocks for shell cracking.

Sea otters cannot possibly have too many rocks!
his cousins said, accepting the rocks as if they were better than shellfish.
Rocks are for preparing food and also for leaving messages.

Like scent messages?
Otter asked.

Scent messages are for river otters. Rock talk is for sea otters. You live in the riverbanks and the water. We live almost always in the water, and scent would wash away. Rocks are better.

To himself, Otter thought that rocks could wash away too and that otters who lived always in the water had to come out of it to pile rocks and leave messages and to find piles of rocks and read the messages.
I would like to see a rock talk message,
he said.

The sea otters had a lot of fun stacking the rocks first one way and then another, adding one kind of rock and then another, going from just a few rocks to—well—probably hundreds! Each time, they made him guess what the message said and translate it into scent for them. Each time, they agreed among themselves that, yes, rocks were definitely better. Otter did not disagree with them. They were the bosses of otters here, and besides, they had rocks.

Instead Otter tried to learn what he could about their rock messages. They were so pleased that they agreed he surely must have some sea otter ancestors.

Shall we tell this smart river otter our secrets?
one cousin asked another.

Yes, he is our cousin and gives good gifts. Besides, we were going to tell all our cousins the big secret.

Before Otter knew it, his family surrounded him, all of them waiting to hear the big secret of the sea otters.

The planet is making a new home for us,
said the sea otters.
It’s a bit hot, but it will be a wonderful home when it is done.

How will we know when it is done?
Otter asked.

It will come up out of the water and cool off and not smoke or make fire anymore,
said a cousin.
At least, that is what Senior Sea Otter says, and Senior Sea Otter has lived a long long time and spoken to many creatures who have lived much longer. A few of the oldest have seen this thing happen in other places, long ago. Others have heard of it happening from their grandparents and their grandparents’ grandparents. And now it is happening again and sea otters can watch!

So you go to watch it being made?

And to eat! Everything in the sea is attracted to the new home and many delicious fish already live near it, sheltering in it.

Suddenly, right under his paws, Otter felt the ground tremble. It did that sometimes but it always startled him. “Hah!” he said nervously.

Do not be alarmed, cousin. That is what the planet does when it is making the home.

That is an extremely fine secret,
Otter said, impressed.
Is there another secret?

We have found a new branch of the family.

New branch?