Second Wave (13 page)

But she had realized such a long time ago, when still quite small, that the Friends only gave her things or rewarded her when they wanted something from her in return. She rather took it for granted that was how it was supposed to be, except that the Others weren’t like that. Of course, they had nothing to give but peace, healing, affection, comfort. No silks or jewels though. She sighed. Even the Others withheld knowledge from her that was hers by right and that they knew she had longed for her entire life.

Nobody really cared about her for her own sake, and she didn’t care about them either.

Before Akasa could refresh herself enough to interfere, Narhii went to the huge jewelry chest and began searching for the time device. She expected it would look much like the one Akasa wore, though perhaps less gem-encrusted.

As she pawed through the box, she slipped on bangles, a necklace that caught in her mane, a tiara that teetered above her horn, to make it seem as if she were truly accessorizing instead of hunting. It was hard not to be distracted by the color and gleam, rippling ribbons of shining stones or metal links so fine the piece looked solid but infinitely fluid.

The jewels dazzled her to such an extent that, when she started to replace a fistful of bracelets in a drawer before closing it, she was startled to discover she had been holding the timer all along.

It was made for a wrist much larger than hers and flopped about even when she fastened it on the smallest setting. Now that she had it, what did she do with it? How would she get to that safe time when her parents lived in the world and somewhere she had a twin her own age?

How did one get past that broken time when the monsters destroyed the machine? The timers didn’t depend on the machine, apparently, but she didn’t want to end up among the monsters. Nor did she want to go back to her own birth so she could grow up with her loving parents and sister. She had been erased enough as it was, thanks very much. She wasn’t about to erase further the life she already had lived. For better or worse, it was her life and what made it her own, and she wanted to know about it. She seemed to have learned some useful skills after all. Like finding things she wasn’t supposed to find and finding out other things people didn’t want her to know.

Hmmm. There was one person quite near who could tell her how to use the timer. If Akasa would only start mumbling to herself the way the technicians had…

She stopped and listened, Akasa’s jewels and silks draped all over her slight form. She listened hard. Akasa still slept, her breathy snores audible through the wardrobe door. But some knowledge of Narhii’s activities remained in her dreams and thoughts.
I should get up,
she thought drowsily.
Not that the mutant child will do any harm that can’t be quickly mended, and she was enjoying herself so much. If only Odus and the other males realized that one pleasure is so conducive to seeking others, even if they are quite different, they would be heaping us females with little gifts and agreeable experiences so often we’d never get any work done.”

Narhii was surprised that Akasa wasn’t even concerned about the timer. Why not? Was it broken or disabled in some way?

“Gracious me, and I am awfully gracious today, aren’t I?”
Akasa’s thoughts continued, the heaps of gifts and experiences and fine foods evaporating in her semi–dream state.
“I forgot all about Grimalkin’s timer. But that’s all right. I doubt the child would even recognize it for what it is and if
she did, she wouldn’t understand how to operate it. One does need to focus on something particular in the time when one wishes to be in the place where one wishes to be prior to activating it. And how would she do that? She’s unfamiliar with anything other than what she has always known here. She’ll be all right.”

Narhii frowned at the timer. Yes, she would be all right indeed if only she could overcome the problem Akasa had just brought up. How
would
she find the right time. Maybe she could visualize people instead of a place—or, well, how much could a meadow change anyway? She’d visualize the meadow and the descendants of the Others who looked like them—and also males and females like herself only taller and—someone who looked like herself. Her twin. She pressed the area on the timer that Akasa’s visualization of the device had shown.

F
or a long time nothing happened, then she saw a tiny red light. What did that mean?

Obligingly, Akasa’s thought drifted back to her,
“All the child would see on the timer if she accidentally activated it is the red light that shows that one or more of the variables in her visualization is not viable. She won’t know to eliminate them one at a time until the timer works.”

Narhii’s smile to herself was an echo of the one Odus’s face showed when he was feeling particularly pleased with himself. It didn’t usually mean anyone else would be similarly pleased. She had what she wanted. She had somehow gone, with the dawning of her telepathic power, from being the manipulated to the manipulator.

Now, then. What would she eliminate?

The Others, the Meadow—that was safe, because if the Others were there, the monsters couldn’t be and if the monsters were anywhere near, the Others would protect her until she could escape with the timer, she knew.

And she longed to meet her parents more than she could say. They must have missed her, somehow. Her mother must have realized she should have had two children instead of one. Narhii desperately wanted to reclaim her parents but in doing so—wouldn’t a twin complicate things? Perhaps the twin had died or was somewhere else? That would be convenient, actually. It would give Narhii a chance to have her parents all to herself. After all, the other twin had had them for six
ghaanyi.

It was Narhii’s turn.

Chapter 11

E
very world between LoiLoiKua and Paloduro reported itself clear of plague. Plant species regenerated in the cleansed garden areas, and Liriili’s teams were vigilant. After a consultation with the other rescue teams, they all agreed that the next emergency was to determine the exact nature of the sea monster and find a new safe harbor for the LoiLoiKuans.

The Linyaari Council, after consulting with the Ancestors and the
sii-
Linyaari, and with the cooperation of House Harakamian’s resources, agreed to provide a provisional home in the sea of Vhiliinyar for Nanahomea’s people, including the poopuus from Maganos Moonbase.

In the meantime, the
Balakiire
returned to Corazon. There Elviiz and Jalonzo could further analyze the sea monster specimen and its viral structure. They wished to learn if such abnormalities in the beast’s basic composition might be, as they expected, mutations caused by the impact of the plague on the environment.

Khorii was looking forward to seeing her friends in Corazon as much as she had been to see the crew of the
Balakiire.
While it was good to be among her own kind and to be able to thought-talk at will, it was also good to be among others of a similar developmental stage to her own. She also enjoyed the comfort of the extended family atmosphere that Abuelita had helped impose on the city, becoming a surrogate grandmother for so many orphans.

As the
Balakiire
docked, the huge cargo hatch of the
Mana
opened and Jaya, a tiny figure in the opening, waved something in the air and jumped up and down to catch the attention of the other ship. Well, mostly, Khorii sensed, Jaya wanted to attract
her
attention. The girls met on the walkway outside the terminal.

“A message came from Lord Hafiz,” Jaya told her excitedly. Uncle Hafiz was the founder of the parent corporation with which the Krishna-Murti Company, owners of the
Mana,
subcontracted. Since Jaya was only slightly older in human years than Khorii, Uncle Hafiz would have retired to the Moon of Opportunity around the time she was born, so Jaya could not have met him, but she would have heard of him. Uncle Hafiz’s eccentricities and excesses, his somewhat piratical business style and his therefore amazing altruism (which came into play, some said, only after Hafiz met Mother), had made him legendary.

Khorii was curious as to what the message might be, but she was fairly certain that if it were bad news, she’d have known about it sooner. Corazon and the
Mana
were much farther removed from the relay than the
Balakiire
had been.

But if it was good news, why hadn’t the
Balakiire
been contacted directly? Perhaps the specialized physician healers on Vhiliinyar had discovered a true cure for the plague strain infecting Mother and Father?

Jaya held up a printout. “Actually, the message is from Captain Becker, confidential to you, and was only forwarded by Lord Hafiz, but still…I’m sorry, I couldn’t help seeing what it said, nor could Captain Bates. We didn’t mean to look, but it’s a bit hard when it comes over the com unless it’s encrypted. I don’t know what the
White Star
is anyway.”

“It’s a luxury liner from Dinero Grande with the Spandard name
Estrella Blanca,
” Khorii said. “It was the first plague vessel we encountered, and we boarded it before we had any idea there was a plague. Captain Becker and the cats both almost died then. But my parents and I were able to heal them and cleanse the ship—at least, all the parts we came into contact with. Captain Becker claimed it as salvage and hauled it off to a private asteroid where he keeps some of his salvage.” She shook her head, half-amused that Uncle Joh was still protecting his tainted merchandise after everything that had happened. He had to know that sooner or later the ship would need to be returned and its occupants, of whom Elviiz had downloaded a passenger and crew roster, officially declared dead and their bodies and belongings, once deemed safe, returned to what was left of their families. Her guess was that Uncle Joh wanted to keep his possession of the ship and its location quiet until he was out of quarantine and would have some negotiating room with the administrative remnants of the Federation. He had made himself and his ship quite useful during the plague until he was stricken with the mutant strain of the plague carried by her parents. To his way of thinking, he would be entitled to a certain leeway where the law was concerned once law was again enforceable.

She smiled when she read the message. Uncle Joh might be intent on protecting his interests, but he wanted to help her help others, too. “I think you got the message for a reason, Jaya,” she said. “Uncle Joh knows I trust you, and he has decided to trust the
Mana
with a mission. I’ll need to speak to Neeva and the others first, but if Uncle Joh is correct, this should help us decide once and for all if the plague has ended without me having to revisit every single infected planet in the galaxy.”

Jaya nodded, “Yeah, I can see where something that would save that much time would be worth doing. Captain Bates and I will start the checklist for takeoff.”

While they were talking, Khiindi and Elviiz had sped off toward the dormitory. Elviiz was anxious to consult with Jalonzo about the specimen. Khiindi no doubt was equally anxious to consult with Abuelita about cat treats.

“Where’s Hap?” Khorii asked. The tall light-haired boy who looked like a Linyaari minus the horn usually came out to see what was happening when a vessel landed.

Jaya frowned. “Making some repairs. We’ve had some unusual damage to the ship since you’ve been gone and—other things, too. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Melireenya, Khorii, and Neeva passed them, and Mikaaye galloped out to meet his mother, who caught him up in a hug, as did her crewmates. As Khorii watched, he glanced her way and waved before returning his attention to his mother.

She had almost forgotten how wonderful the common room smelled. Even for a grazer, the smells of the spices Abuelita used were heady and luscious.

For Jaya’s sake, Jalonzo’s grandmother had learned Indian cooking as well as traditional dishes of her region, so there were chapattis and nan bread as well as tortillas and sopapillas, curries as well as dishes flavored with chilies, cheese, and mole sauce, and the air was filled with cinnamon and coriander, ginger, tumeric, curry, and chocolate.

Sesseli met her, carrying Khiindi, who was licking his whiskers, having already extorted tribute from the kitchen. “Elviiz went into the lab with Jalonzo,” the little girl told her. “He wouldn’t let Khiindi or me come in. He treats me like a baby.”

“Don’t be offended, Sess. He treats me like a baby, too, and has ever since
he
was a baby, or as babyish as he ever was. Any more incidents while we were gone?”

Sesseli nodded. “Yes, but we’re getting kind of used to them now. Jalonzo and Mikaaye sleep in the lab, and when he leaves, Jalonzo backs up his work with copies of his notes and samples of his latest formulas. But Abuelita says that at night the square is busier than it was during the daytime before the plague. And people still think they see moms and dads and grown-up kids who died wandering around at night. Jaya and I sleep in your room, with Hap next door. Captain Bates and Abuelita are just across the hall. But you can have your room back now if you want.”

“I don’t think I’ll be here that long. But the
Balakiire
crew is due for their rest, so they may join you. You’ll feel safe with them around, won’t you?”

For an answer, Sesseli gave her an appraising look. “Are you trying to tell me that wherever you and Khiindi are going I can’t go with you?”

“It wouldn’t be a good idea, Sess,” Khorii said, squatting so she wasn’t
talking
down to the child. “It’s going to be really gross. It’s another graveyard, really, except there was nowhere to bury the bodies. There are all these dead people floating around. Only now they’ll be decomposing, and it will stink—”

“You can purify the air,” Sesseli pointed out.

“Yes, I can, but we’re also going there to make sure the plague is all gone.”