Silent Dances (37 page)

"... safe hunting before ... (
untranslatable
) ...
the skies The incoherent
fragments trailed across the small screen. Sailor touched her shoulder
.

"
What a
re
you doing?"

She hesitated.
She was afraid to tell him she wanted to communicate

with a c
re
ature his people so despised. "Can you underst
an
d what
she's saying
?"
she
as
ked the youngster.

He looked shocked. "
Saying
?
She's screaming, that
'
s all." His signing
set the Aquila off on
an
other chorus of sh
ri
eks.
"...
Our nests
...
the
World
... (
untr
an
slatable) ...

Tesa wan
ted to shake the voder, make it translate.

She stared at the bird.
If
you
'
re intelligent, you could change your
behavior
,
the way the Grus did with the Blue Cloud people.
The avian

threw her head back
,
as though laughing. Tesa signed again
,
asking

the predator why she wished to kill people who never hu
rt
her
,
people
who were not her true food.

The avian became more agitated.
Tesa looked at the voder.
"...
to kill the
trees ...
(
untr
an
slatable
) ...
come from (English word
)
Ea
rt
h
...
to kill
the trees
..."

Tesa froze the translation and stared at it
,
inc
re
dulously. Sailor was
also amazed
.
He had heard the Aquila say an English word, a word

he'd heard other hum
an
s say. Ea
rt
h. The planet.

Tesa swallowed and decided to use her voice. "I come from Earth,"
she said
in English.

The voder
repeated the sentence about coming from Ea
rt
h, then
, "...

you kill the trees ... now, (untr
an
slatable
)
the others kill them
... (
un
tran
slatable
)
burn nests ... the children ... until the White Winds die ...

(untranslatable
) ...
go back to
(
English word) Ea
rt
h
..."
The rest trailed
off into gibbe
ri
sh.

Then,
without wa
rn
ing, the Aquila launched herself off the limb
an
d th
re
aded her way through the forest
.
Tesa eased her

181

self onto an upthrust root and stared at the voder, frustrated.

This is
just like all
my damned
dreams
. Snatches and fragments-but that beast said an English word-a word she had to learn from
another human

being. She realized that Sailor
was staring
at her in stunned surprise.

"What's the matter?" she signed, wanting to ease his fears. "You spoke to Death, Good Eyes," he signed timidly. "Well, I might as well have spoken to

this tree."

Sailor looked in the direction the Aquila flew. "Yes, but when you speak to

trees ... they don't kill and eat you."

"Well, neither did she. We'd better get out of here." She

realized the youngster was thoroughly shaken by this new experience.

"Sailor?" she signed.

"Yes?"

"I don't think we should mention this to your parents." He gazed at her for a long,
telling
moment, giving her "the

look."

"Yes," he finally signed, "I think you're right." They lifted off for home together.

Peter parked the little solo shuttle they called the
Demoiselle
behind
a mass
of shrubs. According to Thorn's maps, this brackish marshland was usually

the final
staging
area for Black Feather's flock on their return to their river

home. Thorn would check the river tomorrow, but since Peter had told the

Crane
crew he'd be planetside for a few days, the Senegalese man decided

he might as well catch up with the flock himself.

If Black Feather's flock hadn't reached this marsh, then they'd be too far

away to find today. In that case, he'd just finish his mapping survey-his

excuse to be on Trinity.

As he walked through the soggy marsh, he touched the sound nullifiers in

his ears, adjusting them for the onslaught of noise that usually surrounded a

roosting Grus flock.

He was almost through a stand of small, wiry trees eking out a living in the

saturated ground when he became aware of the change in the air. Brackish

marsh always smelled to him like a charnel house because of all the

decaying vegetation.
This stink could gag a crow,
he thought, just as a flock

of green, pigeon-sized carrion-eaters burst from the ground in an agitated

cloud.

Peter pushed through the trees, finally seeing the feeding ground, but it was

a long
moment before he
truly
saw it. Bodies, one after the other, were

stretched out, raw,

182

bleeding--skinned. Black Feather's entire flock-dead. Over a hundred

avians-living, breathing,
intelligent
beings-had been slaughtered. Their

exposed muscles lay red, nude in the bright sunlight as scores of carrion-

eaters converged on the feast. They were only the beginning, Peter knew.

Soon there would be armies of insects, rodents, carnivores descending on

the grisly scene until not one morsel, not one bleached white bone, was left.

On Trinity, everything was food to someone.

Struck with horror, he took a cautious step back, even as his brain registered

the other details he had yet to notice. There were Aquila everywhere, like

bald eagles converging on the Chilkat River in Alaska. They were perched

in the scrubby trees, in the water, and on the bodies. Dozens of Aquila, more

than he had thought lived on the World, were feasting in this open cemetery.

He swallowed bitter bile, trying not to notice how they were all staring at him

as he took another step back.

Slowly he removed his nullifiers, then took another cautious step. Then he

heard it, the soft snick of a modern weaponAnd the strange, quiet voice that

said, "That's far enough."

183

Weaver pulled her head out from under her wing, listening. She heard
it

again
, a soft noise, like a rousette's whimper. She snaked her head over to

Good Eyes' bed.

The human tossed fitfully, her face contorted, reflecting the nightmares she

conjured up. These last two nights had been the worst, since Sailor had

begun sleeping outside with his father. Perhaps, Weaver thought, she

should've expected that.

She'd seen many children pull away, and remembered every one-especially

those who never came back. It was hard on a parent's heart, but it was part

of life's cycle.

But to Good Eyes, this was all new.
When the first one leaves,
Weaver

thought,
every parent's heart breaks.
Sailor might go this morning. Things

had changed with her son since he and Good Eyes had had an adventure

they would not discuss. That was typical. The first big adventure, the thrill of

independence, and then the wish-the need-for new places.

A soft moan escaped Good Eyes. Weaver touched her gently, trying to

comfort the sleeping woman. Some nights she could

184

ease her out of the dream,
but tonight, the human
sat bolt upright.

"Has he left?" Good Eyes signed
. "Is the
re
lightning?"

"
He's here," Weaver assured her. "There'
s no storm."
The human blinked, rubbed her face, then looked around.
"It's mo
rn
ing
," Weaver signed. "He may ... leave soon." The Grus saw the human's soft lips tremble, heard her

sharp

intake of breath. Good Eyes covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders

shook, and she made hard, choking sounds. Her sorrow was so vivid,

Weaver also felt a flood of pain, pain she thought she'd learned to accept.

When Good Eyes looked up, her face was wet. "Does it always hurt like this,

to see them go?" she asked.

Weaver wanted to say something that would lessen the ache, but she could

only
sign
, "It always hurts. Every time."

The human took a deep breath and rubbed her face hard. "Okay, I'm all right

now. Can I ... is it okay to go outside?"

"Of course. The parents should be together on this day." When they stepped

onto the platform, they could see Sailor
on one leg
, not far from his father,

his body poised with an
ticipation
. Father Sun touched the western sky,

coloring it with reds and blues. The Mother
Sun was
now so close, she

came up beside him, but the Child Sun would not be seen for hours.

Sailor looked at Taller. "I'll remember who I am," he signed the traditional

parting phrase. He turned to Weaver. "I'll remember where I live," he told her as she had told her own mother. Then he faced Good Eyes. There was no

traditional
saying for his parting from her. "I'll remember what you taught me," he promised. He ran across the clear water, lifting effortlessly, as Taller

threw back his head and called,
announcing
to the World that his son was

grown, his
son was
leaving. Weaver answered his call with her own ringing

voice.

Good Eyes signed the words every parent felt on this day. "Come home

safely. Come home
soon
." Then she held up her hand in the human sign

that
meant
"I love you."

Meg walked through the shelter, toweling her freshly washed hair, and found

the note Thorn had left on her terminal.

"There's fresh coffee for you and a thermos for Tesa. I'll

185

be in late, so don
'
t wait dinner
.
Any emergencies
,
just tap into my
voder
,
I'll
re
spond
.
See you
, Thorn."

"This
place is worse th
an
a hotel
,"
Meg grumbled. She
an
d Scott used
to do eve
ry
thing together
,
they we
re
a team. Well, those days were
over
.
Perhaps she could spend her time working with Sco
tt'
s stuff

now that things were slowing down around he
re
. She could probably

get a bunch of papers out of itcoautho
re
d posthumously
by old

Hedford.
She didn't want anyone to forget who it was who'd made the

big b
re
akthrough a
ro
und here.

There are
breakthroughs yet to be made
,
she felt him say. "Hmph
,"
she
grunted
,
ambling into the kitchen and pou
ri
ng herself some coffee
.

The front
door opened
,
and Meg was sta
rt
led to see Tesa
. "
Well, good
mo
rn
ing
!"
she signed, surprised. "Is your coffee that late
?"
she
as
ked
,
smiling.

Tesa'
s sad exp
re
ssion wiped her
grin off. "
Sailor
'
s gone," the young
wom
an
signed
. "
He left a few hours
ago."

Ya durak!
the older woman
chided herself.
You should've been able to tell
that as soon as you saw her
face. "Oh,
honey
, I'm sorry. Are you okay?

Come on
,
sit down, talk to me."

Tesa let herself be led to the small dining table. "I'm okay,"
she insisted as
Meg poured her a hot cup
. "
I know he had to go
,
but ... he never
looked back
.
That
was hard." She wrapped her hands around the steaming coffee cup. "Did you know that the Grus abandon the nest shelter

after the chick leaves?"

"I knew something happened to it,
but I wasn't sure what."

"It's too painful to go back there
an
ymore, so they sleep outside
,"

Tesa signed
. "
When the chick
re
tu
rn
s, they give him his hatching
cloak
,
and they move back in until the yearling gets established in a

coho
rt
group his own age
.
But if the chick dies on the
flyaway,
they
hang his hatching cloak outside
an
d let the whole thing decay."

"Well, we have plenty of room for you here, Tesa."

Tesa gave her a small, tired smile
. "
I didn
'
t think you'd leave me
sleeping in the water on one leg. I came to ask for a diffe
re
nt kind of

favor."

"What is it?"

"First,
what will happen to me now that Sailor has left?" Meg sat back
. "

Well, we didn
'
t know when that might happen
,
so we couldn
'
t make
definite pl
an
s, but
..."
She