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Authors: Anne Mccaffrey

BOOK: Second Wave
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Elviiz, who had appeared in the doorway beside Hap at the same time as Jaya, said, “I will go there now and determine the validity of Captain Bates’s hypothesis.” He didn’t always talk like that but just after he recharged, he always seemed to express himself in that annoyingly I-can-store-and-process-gigabillions-more-bits-of-information-gigabillions-of-times-faster-than-any-of-you-mere-human-gits way.

But in this case he was making himself useful, so Khorii didn’t mind. She sat on the bed and pulled Sesseli and Khiindi into her lap, then she laid her horn against Sesseli’s fluffy blond head. The short golden spiraling horn in the middle of her forehead allowed Khorii and other Linyaari to heal trauma, pain, injury, and illness to a degree that seemed miraculous to most humans.

“It wasn’t just a bad dream, Khorii,”
the little girl told her privately.
“I woke up and went to pee and stopped to look out the window on my way back to bed. I saw it move, plain as day.”

The wind and rain made the night and the city streets and buildings dark. But although most of the city’s bright lights had died with its people, the survivors kept the central graveyard well lit so that no one would venture there by mistake. As Captain Bates had mentioned, the ground was still settling from the excavation of the mass graves and it would be far too dangerous for a living person to fall into a sinkhole and land among the dead. Though Khorii’s parents and later others of the Linyaari rescue team had cleansed the dead of contamination, one never knew and, besides, the experience would be enough to give one of the child survivors of the recent tragedy nightmares for a lifetime, given what they had already endured.

Through the window, Khorii saw Elviiz. His silvery white mane, normally thick and fluffy on top and extending down the sides of his face, was instantly drenched flat the moment he stepped into the street. He walked as if there were no rain at all, and indeed his shipsuit was impervious to moisture, and his extra weight and strength let him walk easily, even against the strong wind. He stopped on the sidewalk surrounding the cemetery. Although the graves were recent, vegetation grew quickly because of the hot and humid climate of Corazon, and the graves were already covered by grasses and tropical wildflowers, even low bushes and ivy in places. Except for the marker stones, it looked very lush and inviting to someone who, like Khorii, was a grazer, but she would starve before she’d ever eat any of
those
plants.

Elviiz did not proceed into the graveyard itself, but stood on the edge and scanned the glistening vegetation and muddy ground. He had optical sensors that could determine things like soil density and depth, and because he was not entirely flesh and blood, he was much heavier than a normal boy his size. If there were sinkholes, he’d be likely to fall in one, and he was smart enough to know that.

After a few minutes he crossed the street again and returned to the dormitory.

Elviiz, Khiindi, and Khorii had been staying in the dormitory of the University Paloduro for the past three nights while she took her mandatory rest from her plague-hunting duties. As the only Linyaari with the ability actually to
see
the disease organisms, her presence was critical to the plague eradication effort. But she, like all Linyaari, was required to rest after every major operation so that she did not end up as a carrier, as her parents had. So although her horn was still perfectly opaque, and after the first night she hadn’t even felt very tired, she more than any of the others understood the necessity for the rest period.

She had returned to Corazon because it was the last place she’d seen her family and because all of her new friends were there. With so few uncontaminated resources and places available to the survivors, a brilliant young man named Jalonzo, his grandmother Abuelita, and some of his game-playing friends had taken up residence in the university’s dormitory. Jalonzo, Hap, and Jaya had been working on a vaccine for the plague, something that would be available when the Linyaari all returned home. In fact, they had been very excited yesterday by one formula they had concocted and had talked of nothing else all afternoon. They were the ones who had suggested moving into the dormitory because it was convenient to the well-equipped university research laboratory Khorii had meticulously cleansed for them.

By the time Elviiz returned to Sesseli’s room, he was perfectly dry again and accompanied by Jalonzo, who was asking him a number of technical questions about his observations. A few minutes later, Abuelita showed up. “Since everyone is already awake, we may as well take this meeting to the common room. I’ll make cocoa, and perhaps that will help you all return to sleep.”

They walked together to the common room, Captain Bates holding Sesseli’s hand. Khiindi leaped onto Khorii’s shoulders as she caught up with Elviiz and Jalonzo. “What caused the shifting?” she asked. “Did you find out?”

“Naturally, I discovered the cause of the displacement of the monuments—Sesseli only saw one, but several have moved from their original positions as my sensors could detect from the moisture and compactness of the soil beneath the stones as well as some breakage of surrounding vegetation. I have compiled a list of the plants involved and their specific areas of injury if that would be of use?”

“Not right now, Elviiz. You were going to tell us what made the stones move?”

“It was as I suspected. The ground has shifted and subsided with the increased soil density from the rain. In fact, quite substantial sinkholes have developed over the affected graves. In one case, the stone actually fell into the grave. I did not attempt to retrieve it because of the possibility of contaminating myself.”

“Good thinking,” Jalonzo said. But of course, good thinking was the only kind that Elviiz did.

The common room was meant to stimulate minds and bodies and at the same time provide a comfortable area to study amid the din created by other students playing games, eating, and talking. Tables and chairs brightly painted with flowers and birds sat in the middle of a green area rug with borders of lime and aqua. Twisted sculptures of glass provided light for the space, supplemented with smaller lights in each of the padded booths lining two walls. Their upholstery matched the rug. The walls were a golden orange with arched holes sculpted into them—nichos, they were called. These contained trophies, portraits, and other artwork made by students mostly now among the dead. Masks both grotesque and comic were numerous, as were brilliantly floral-embellished animal figures and alien-looking monsters. A Ping-Pong table, for a game Captain Joh Becker described as being more ancient than the ruins of Terra, stood there with its ridiculous little net strung across the center and its balls and paddles carelessly tossed onto the surface, waiting for the next players. A snooker table balanced the Ping-Pong one on the opposite side of the long, shuttered cantina window, which was used to provide students with casual meals and snacks. The shutters were painted bright blue and decorated with intricate street scenes of Corazon at carnivale, the festive weekslong celebration that had ended when the plague arrived to strike down the revelers.

Khorii and her friends chose a table nearest the cafeteria, where Abuelita was preparing her specialty, a delicious hot cinnamon-and-pepper-laced chocolate beverage. Jalonzo did not sit, but went to the kitchen and returned with a tray of the frothy drinks. Abuelita followed him, wiping her hands on a bib apron to keep her bed gown tidy. Because decontamination cost the Linyaari dearly in terms of their strength and energy, survivors kept their possessions and wardrobes to a minimum. When Jalonzo and the others developed another effective cleansing process, there would be time enough to reclaim less critical items from all their abandoned homes, offices, and businesses.

The Linyaari, for whom clothing was optional, took the word of the survivors about what was essential and what was not for each of them. In Abuelita’s case, clearly a bed gown and apron were necessary.

When Elviiz had shared his findings with everyone while they sipped their chocolate, Abuelita ran a hand over Sesseli’s blond curls as if to smooth them, which wasn’t actually possible. Nothing short of genetic modification would smooth those curls out. “You see,
chica,
it was nothing to fear. Merely a natural thing.”

Sesseli shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“I assure you, Sesseli…” Elviiz began, but the little girl kept shaking her head.

“It shifted, but something made it shift.”

“Are we talking vampires here? Walking dead maybe?” Jalonzo asked matter-of-factly.

“Jalonzo, don’t scare the
niña,
” Abuelita said. “Such things are common in those games you play, but they are not real things. You are a brilliant student of the sciences, and you know such creatures are impossible and imaginary.”

Jalonzo shrugged. “Perhaps, Abuelita, but such stories often have some basis in fact or actual events. Misinterpreted or misreported, no doubt, but not imaginary. We have had so many deaths, and the burials were so hasty, the bodies unexamined for fear of contamination.” He leaned forward, widening his eyes and saying in a deep, quavery voice, “What if some who were buried were not dead, and dug their way up from the graves, clawing their fingers to the bone, maddened by what they experienced and their effort to survive, perhaps deranged from lack of oxygen while entombed with the dead?”

“Stop it, Jalonzo,” Khorii said. “It’s not true that the dead were unexamined. As you very well know, my parents and I and other Linyaari decontaminated each corpse before it was buried, and as you also know, that involved close personal contact on our parts. And we
know
death from life.”

Abuelita said quickly, “He meant no disrespect, of course, Khorii. We are eternally grateful for what you and your people, particularly your parents, have done for us, and I weep for the sacrifices they made to save us. With the resilience of youth my grandson has already forgotten that he laid to rest friends among the dead, and tries with his stories to create the false drama and fear that the young so inexplicably enjoy.”

“He gave
me
goose bumps,” Hap said appreciatively.

“Now I suggest that we return to our beds.
Niña,
if you wish, you may sleep with me tonight. We should switch your room to one overlooking the interior courtyard instead of the square.” The interior courtyard was paved for sporting activities, so no bodies had been interred there.

Sesseli shook her head. “No, but can I borrow Khiindi, Khorii?”

“I doubt he’ll object,” Khorii replied, looking for her lifelong feline companion. He was on no one’s lap, nor was he licking the dregs of chocolate from anyone’s cup. She called him, and he did not come, but that was no cause for alarm. Khiindi was an entity unto himself and chose where he wanted to be. If her request did not interfere unduly with his own agenda, he would come. Otherwise, she had to wait until he finished what he was doing.

He had been a birthing present to her from the regent of Makahomia, Nadhari Kando, aunt of the future high priestess Miw-Sher and former security chief for Khorii’s human Great-uncle Hafiz Harakamian, patriarch of the mighty House Harakamian empire. On a visit to Makahomia with Captain Becker, Nadhari had renewed her family alliances and Roadkill had formed alliances of his own with some of the beautiful and revered Makahomian Temple Cats. Khiindi was believed to be an offspring of one such union.

When Khiindi failed to reveal himself, Khorii rose to look for him. She finally found him crouched, tail bushed and fur on end, under the snooker table. He was glaring up at one of the nicho-framed grotesque masks, and growling menacingly.

In Khiindi’s opinion, something was terribly wrong.

Chapter 2

K
horii reached under the table and retrieved Khiindi, something that was not always the safest thing to do at times like this. But, instead of scratching her or wriggling loose, now he tried to burrow his nose under her arm. He was quivering with fear, the poor little cat. The mask had frightened him. Khorii stroked him and studied the mask from a distance. Keeping her distance was prudent, since when she tried to get closer, Khiindi’s claws dug into her.

The piece was made of some sort of clay. Like most of the other artwork she had seen in the city, it was painted in bright shades—red, ochre, and chartreuse with its googly eyes outlined in black and the red-tipped teeth a ferocious white. She was only starting to understand the human idea of art and aesthetics, and knew that it didn’t all have to be pretty. But why would anybody want to live with such a thing as the mask?

Clearly, Khiindi shared her taste in art in this case. The cat hissed again, then buried his face in Khorii’s mane.

Khorii took the hint and moved away from the ugly, though vibrant, piece of art.

Returning to the table, she told Sesseli, “I think Khiindi will be as glad to have you as you will be to have him, but who will keep me safe? May I stay with you, too?” She wasn’t sure why she made the offer. Maybe it was just something about the atmosphere, by which she did not mean the mixture of elements comprising the air. Many Standard months had passed since this planet was cleared of plague. The dead had been laid to rest, and the living had tried to resume some semblance of their previous lives. But tonight, the air felt heavy with a sense of foreboding and almost weighted down with fear.

Which was strange, because she had never been uneasy like this before, even when the plague had been active everywhere on the planet. There was sadness in the collective thought-forms of the living inhabitants, of course, and anxiety about the future, but certainly not fear, not since they’d stopped the plague and cleansed reasonable living space for the survivors. The city had been remarkably calm, considering what had happened here. The need for the survivors to escape contamination had kept looting under control, especially after some initial incidents when looters had dropped dead with their booty still in their arms. Even the thieves were keeping out of trouble after a few events like that.

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